Maria and the Golden Slipper.

Maria and the Golden Slipper.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria’s father fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do all the work in the house,—cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince’s fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, “Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.”Then Maria said to the crab, “I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have no clothes to wear.” While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, “Maria, don’t eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.” After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell.When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, “You must be in your house before twelve o’clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.”After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, “The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.”The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards tocarry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, “Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.” And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, “Let her try. It is the prince’s order that all shall try.” So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria’s feet, they almost fainted with astonishment.So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.Abadeja.This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the narrator.Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished her severely.One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, “Take these two handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black, and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are not, I shall beat you.” Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, “I am crying because my step-mother has commanded me to do theimpossible. She told me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black one into white.” The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came, ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river, crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand, led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold her if she were late.The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened, told the girl to take the chicken’s feet and plant them in the forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces, and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother about her garden.One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came acrossthis little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his son’s wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried, and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden, put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man’s house. As soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.Notes.In another variant (c), “The Wonderful Tree,” which was collected by Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,—Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.For still other Philippine variants of the Cinderella story, see JAFL 19 : 265–272, where Fletcher Gardner gives two oral Tagalog versions. In the same journal (29 : 226 f.) I have given synopses of two Tagalog metrical romances which open with the Cinderella setting.The Cinderella story is perhaps the most widespreadMärchenin the world. See M. R. Cox’s bibliographical study of it: “Cinderella, 345 Variants of Cinderella, Catskin, and Cap o’ Rushes, abstracted and tabulated, with a discussion of medieval analogues, and notes. London, 1893.” Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 21, examine Miss Cox’s material from a somewhat new angle, and are very useful for reference. It seems hardly necessary to attempt to add here to those two exhaustive monographs. Attention may be called to the fact, however, that our story of “Abadeja,” which comes from Leyte,presents a number of interesting items not found in the other Filipino variants: e.g., (1) the task of washing a black handkerchief white, andvice-versâ; (2) the magic tree growing up from the feet of a wonderful chicken given the heroine by the mysterious woman; (3) the unusual device for providing a rich husband for the heroine. There are some slight resemblances between these last two details and corresponding incidents in Mr. Rusk’s variant “The Wonderful Tree.”Juan the Poor.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, who heard this story from her grandfather.Many years ago there lived a king who was always sad. He used to go to a mountain and climb the highest tree that was growing there. One day when he was in the top of the tree, he saw on another high mountain a beautiful princess, Doña Maria. When he returned home to his palace, he sent a proclamation all over his kingdom, saying that the one who could take Doña Maria from her mountain and bring her before him should have one-half of his kingdom.Juan was a beggar; and it was his custom, whenever he saw a beggar like himself, to share with that beggar the alms which had been given him. One day he saw a wretched old woman, and out of pity for her he gave her all the food he had begged that day. Then the old woman, who knew of the proclamation of the king, said to Juan, “You must tell the king, my boy, that you will fetch Doña Maria for him.” Juan did not want to, because he said that he did not know where and how he might get Doña Maria; but the old woman at last persuaded Juan to go by telling him that she would accompany him, and promising her help. After Juan had visited the palace and told the king that he would bring the princess Doña Maria to him, the poor boy and the old woman set out on their journey to the distant mountain. When they reached the gates of the city, the old woman said to Juan, “Juan, I am very tired, and I cannot go any farther, but I will give you this handkerchief. When you come to the first mountain, you must spread the handkerchief on the ground, and many fat horses will approach you; but I advise you not to choose any of them. You must choose the very last one, which will be lean and weak-looking. That is the horse which can endure hardships, and which will be able to carry you to the princess’s palace.”Juan followed the advice of the old woman, when the timecame, and chose the thin horse. He mounted on its back, and rode on towards the mountain of Doña Maria. When he had ridden very far, he saw before him a hill full of ants. He was afraid to try to pass over this hill, lest the ants should devour him and his animal. The horse said to him, “You must ask the handkerchief for food, and we will feed the ants.” Juan spread out the handkerchief, and asked it to bring him much food. After he had scattered it on the ground for the ants, the leader of the ants approached Juan, and said, “Since you have been very kind to us, I will give you one of my legs; and at any time you want aid from us, you must burn the leg, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to help you.”When Juan had again gone a long distance from the hill, he saw the sky full of birds flying around and looking for food. Again the horse told Juan to ask for food from the handkerchief; so that they might feed the birds, and not be killed by them and eaten. Juan did so, and gave the birds all they wanted to eat. Then the king of the birds, the eagle, flew up to Juan, and said, “To repay you for your kindness, I will give you some feathers from my wings. Any time you want aid from us, just burn some of the feathers, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to you.” Juan thanked the bird, and put the feathers in his pocket where he kept the leg of the ant.Then he continued his journey. When they came near the palace of Doña Maria, the horse told Juan to hide, and said that he alone would enter her garden; but before he should hide, Juan should ask his handkerchief for a complete equipment of saddle and bridle, so that the horse could be mounted by a lady. Juan did so, hid himself, and the horse wandered into the garden of Doña Maria. When the princess saw the horse, she became very angry, and said, “Who is the one who is so bold as to let his horse enter my garden?” She looked all about, but could see no one: so she said to herself, “I will mount this horse and find out who its owner is.” She mounted the horse, which immediately ran to the place where Juan was hiding, and told him to get up on its back. Then the horse carried them swiftly back to the small house of Juan. When he reached home, Juan sent word to the king that the princess Doña Maria was in his home. The king, accompanied by all his retinue, went in great state to Juan’s house, made over to him one-half of his dominion, and took Doña Maria back to his palace.Now, Doña Maria was very beautiful, and the king fell deeply in love with her. When he was alone with her in the palace, he began to court her. He asked her to be his wife; but Doña Maria said, “Only the one who can do what I wish him to do shall be my husband. I will mix one hundredcavansof husked rice with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice (palay). He who in one night can separate the two kinds of rice, and also bring my palace here to your kingdom, shall be married to me.” The king said that no one could accomplish those things; but Doña Maria told him that there was one who could accomplish the tasks, and that was Juan.The king then sent for Juan, and said to him, “Juan, here are one hundredcavansof husked rice mixed with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice. To-night you must separate the grain into two piles, and also transport the palace of Doña Maria to my kingdom. If you have not done both by to-morrow morning, you shall lose your head.” Juan went away very sad toward the mountain. As he was walking along, he met the thin horse which had helped him before. The horse said to him, “Why are you so sad, Juan?” Juan told the horse what the king had ordered him to do. Then the horse said, “Don’t be sad, Juan! you can accomplish both those difficult tasks. Don’t you remember the leg of the ant and the feathers of the eagle which were given to you, and the promise of the ant and eagle?” So Juan took the ant’s leg and the feathers from his pocket, burned them, and threw the ashes into the air. In a short time thousands of birds and ants came to him and asked him what he wanted. Then Juan said, “I want the palace of Doña Maria brought here before daybreak, and the two hundredcavansof mixed rice separated.” When they heard Juan’s order, the birds flew to the mountain to get the palace, and the ants hastened to the king’s grounds to separate the unhusked from the husked rice.By morning both tasks were completed: so Juan was married to Doña Maria, for she would have no other husband.Notes.Although this story is clearly derived from the Tagalog romance of the “Life of King Asuero,” nevertheless it is also told as a folk-tale, and for that reason I have included it in this collection. As has been intimated already so many times, it is often hard to draw the linebetween folk-tales and literary tales, especially when the latter are widely told and read. Since our object in this collection is to present to Occidental readers a comprehensive account of whatisin Philippine popular literature, it has seemed unwise to exclude this story.The full title of the romance is “The Story and Life of King Asuero, Doña Maria, and Juan the Poor, in the City of Jerusalem.” My copy is dated 1905; Retana (No. 4192) mentions an edition between the years 1860 and 1898. In outline the folk-tale differs little from the romance, hence it is unnecessary to give a detailed summary of the printed version. The more important variations might be noted, however. The romance opens thus:—Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.The folk-tale and the romance are practically identical, except that the romance is more detailed, up to the point where the horse leaves Juan to go to entice Doña Maria from her palace and get her in its power.The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....The romance closes with the inevitable war with the Moors, and the rescue of the kingdom from the hands of the Pagans by the invincible Juan.The exact source of this romance I am unable to point to; but without question it is Occidental, I believe.The Fate of an Envious Woman.Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. He was told the story by his gardener.There lived once upon a time a young couple of the middle class. The man was a reckless scapegrace and spendthrift; but the woman was a pious, faithful, and virtuous housewife. Juan was the husband’s name; Maria, the wife’s. One of the worst things about Juan was that he spent on another woman the greater part of the money which Maria could with difficulty scrape together. This other woman’s name was Flora. It is true that she surpassed Maria in personal charm, but in real worth Flora was greatly Maria’s inferior. Hence we should not wonder at the fact that Maria soon grew distasteful to her husband, and that after a year of married life he should seek to be entertained by a more beautiful woman. He spent most of his time in listless indolence by the side of Flora, returning home only to get his meals, which Maria prepared with the greatest care. But her efforts were all to no purpose. In vain did Maria array herself in her best clothes, and scent herself with the most delicate perfumes: her face remained pitted with small-pox scars, as before.Years came and passed, and Juan became more and more harsh to his wife. At last Maria sought the aid of St. Vicente Ferrer. She knelt before the image, and asked the saint torescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Her prayers were soon answered. The image became animated. It touched her face several times, and in a few seconds Maria was converted into an extraordinary beauty. Her once rough skin was now smooth and velvety. She then went to the window to await her husband’s return. When he arrived an hour later, he was at first unwilling to come up into the house, for he did not believe that the beautiful woman was his wife; but at last she disclosed her true self to him. A great change now came over Juan. The once despised wife now began to enjoy the caresses of her husband, who pressed her close to his heart.Days elapsed, and Flora began to get uneasy at her home. She wondered why Juan did not come to see her. At length she went to his house. After asking Maria how she had acquired her beauty, Flora decided to try her fortune also. She too knelt before the image of St. Vicente Ferrer. But, alas! instead of becoming as white and as beautiful as the women of a Turkish harem, she became as black and as ugly as the mistress of a Kaffir household. Her once delicate lips became thick and coarse, and her nose became as long as a monkey’s tail. Filled with shame at her appearance, and with a consciousness of her own guilt, she went home, where she pined away and died.The once homely Maria, whose home had rung with laughter by the taunt and ridicule of those who made fun of her ugliness,1now graced her house with sweet smiles and engaging features, which drew scores of visitors to her home. Juan confessed his sins, and underwent penance for his wickedness; and the two lived together in peace and happiness the rest of their lives.Notes.A Visayan variant, “The Two Wives and the Witch,” may be found in JAFL 19 : 105. In the southern version “Juan puts away his first, plain-looking wife, and takes another, handsomer one. The first wife, weeping by a well, is transformed by a witch into a beautiful woman. She wins her husband’s affections back again. The second wife, deserted in turn, weeps by the well, and is transformed by the witch into such a hideous old hag, that, when she looks at herself inthe glass and sees her ugliness, she refuses to eat, and in a few days dies.”In a broad way this story and ours belong to the “Toads and Diamonds” group (see Grimm, No. 13 [“The Three Little Men in the Wood”] and No. 24 [“Mother Holle”]; and Bolte-Polívka’s notes to the two stories). In these groups, however, the two young women are sisters,—one bad, and the other good. About all there is in common between the norm of the “Toads and Diamonds” cycle and our tales is the situation of the plain-looking but faithful, unselfish, good-hearted woman being granted by some supernatural creature wealth and beauty; while the handsome but selfish and wicked woman, envious of her rival’s good luck, becomes loathsome and miserable when she asks a boon from the same supernatural source.The only other member of this group that narrates the story oftwo wivesinstead of two sisters is Lal Behari Day’s No. 22. This Bengal tale, it appears to me, is related both to our stories and to those of the “Mother Holle” group, thus linking ours with the latter also. Following is Cosquin’s summary of Day’s story (2 : 123):—A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.It is unsafe to attempt to trace a story with only three examples as data: but it appears to me not unreasonable to suppose that our Tagalog story is a refined, pious, Christianized modernization of the Visayan form represented by “The Two Wives and the Witch;” and that the Visayan form, in turn, goes back to some Indian or Malayan moral tale of two wives, rivals for the affection of their husband. The Bengali tale can hardly be the direct source of our Visayan form, but it appears to be fairly closely related to that source.1The Filipinos have many mocking children’s rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.The Monkey and Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the “inhabitants of yesterday;” and that even now many are fond of it.Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called “La Campana” because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died: consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her.One day Juan went to Pit-pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his cornfield. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew backto the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again.For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, “I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.” He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field.The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. “Good-morning, Juan!” said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. “You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,” continued the monkey. “I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.” The waxen statue still stood motionless. “Do you hear me, Juan?” said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. “Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!” he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. “Let my hand loose!” the monkey shouted, “or you will get another present.” Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. “You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I’ll kick you.” He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, “Now I have caught you, you thief!” He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient tofulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. “Good-morning, Master Juan!” he cried. “I see that you are busy.”“Busy indeed!” replied Juan.“Master Juan, do you want to marry the king’s daughter? If you do, I’ll arrange everything for you,” said the monkey.Juan replied, “Yes,” little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true.The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king’s palace, and said, “Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow yourganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him theganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. “My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,” said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure.“Here, monkey, here are your three cents!” said the king. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” answered the monkey, laughing, “my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.” The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself.Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, “Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow yourgantaagain. He wants to finish measuring his money.”The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow theganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.”“My master, Juan,” replied the monkey, “is the richest man in the world.”Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of theganta. “I’ll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,” he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow.As he was walking towards Juan’s farm, the monkey noticedthe four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of theganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. “Good-afternoon, king!” said he, “my master, Juan, returns you yourgantawith a thousand thanks.”“Very well,” replied the king; “but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.”The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, “Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?”“I have not heard of him,” replied the lord, “except from this monkey and yourself.”The king then turned to the monkey, and said, “Monkey, if you don’t tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I’ll hang you.” Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth.Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, “My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi. If you will just look out of your window to-morrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.”The king’s anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. “This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,” he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, “The monkey desires to see you.”The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, “My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.” At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter.“If my master does not call on you to-day, he will surely come to-morrow.” So saying, the monkey left the palace, andran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan.“To-morrow, Juan,” said the monkey, “you will marry the princess. I’ll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.” Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. “What do you think of me?” asked the monkey.Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, “What are you trying to do?”“Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before tomorrow noon,” replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. “I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.”The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, “For mercy’s sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!” They were already trembling with fear.“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!” On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, “Tell us where to hide!”“If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I’ll jump into the well,” said the monkey in a hoarse voice.As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word “well,” they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. “Let me jump first!” said the monkey.“No, let us jump first!” shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going tofollow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. “They are dead,” he said to himself, laughing. “Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!”The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. “This is the very place where my master shall live!” He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: “My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.”Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. “My master is indeed rich,” he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, “Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.”After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, “Throw away your plough. Let’s go to the king’s palace, for to-night you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.”Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, “Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.”But the king replied, “He is rich. If you don’t marry him, I’ll punish you very severely.” The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, “O God! let me die.”When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, “Where is the couple going to live?”“In Don Juan’s palace,” was the reply of the monkey.The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, “Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.” Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. “I wonder who owns these, monkey!” said the king.The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. “Good-evening, king!” they said.“Good-evening!” replied the king. “Whose cattle are these?”“They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,” said the shepherds.The king nodded, and said to himself, “He is truly rich.” The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. “Why, it is not a palace; it is heaven itself,” he said.They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, “I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.” Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church.The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister.This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.Andres the Trapper.Narrated by Domingo Perez of San Carlos, Pangasinan, who heard the story from his grandfather, now dead. The story is popular among the Pangasinanes.Once upon a time there lived in a village a poor widow who had an only son named Andres. They lived in a small hut situated near the Patacbo forest. When Andres was between twelve and thirteen years old, his mother died. From now on he lived alone in his mean little hut, where he had to cook his own food and wash his clothes.One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickensused to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes.One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, “My dear Andres, don’t harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.”Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market.Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio’s house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure.“Who is your master?” said Don Toribio.“Don’t you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,” said the monkey.Don Toribio at once lent theganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned itto the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure.When the monkey handed thegantaback to Don Toribio, the man said, “Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?”“No, sir!” said the monkey, “we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.”“Well,” said Don Toribio, “we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?”“Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till to-morrow,” said the monkey.Don Toribio then brought acavan, which equals about twenty-fivegantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, “Where did you get that box?” The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town.“What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?” said Andres.“I told him that you wanted to count your money,” said the monkey.“Ah, me!” said Andres, “what money are you going to count? Don’t you know that we are very poor?”“Let me manage things, Andres,” said the monkey, “and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.”The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took thecavanwhich he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure.“Good-morning, Don Toribio!” said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house.“Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?” replied the rich man. “Have you come to return the box?”“Yes, sir!” said the monkey, “we have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.” When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, “Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.”“I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,” said Don Toribio to himself.“Perhaps he is even richer than I am.” When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation.On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter.When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio’s daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time.A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.Notes.Two other Philippine variants of the “Puss in Boots” cycle have been printed,—one Visayan, “Masoy and the Ape” (JAFL 20 : 311–314); and the other Tagalog, “Juan and the Monkey” (ibid., 108–109). It would thus appear, not only from the fact of its wide distribution, but also from the testimony of the recorders of the stories, that the tale is fairly well known and popular throughout the Archipelago.The most complete bibliography of this cycle is Bolte-Polívka’s notes on Grimm, No. 33 (a), “Puss in Boots” (Anmerkungen, I : 325–334). See also Köhler’s notes to Gonzenbach, No. 65, “Vom Conte Piro” (2 : 242 f.); Macculloch, ch. VIII (p. 225 f.); W. R. S. Ralston in the “Nineteenth Century” (13 [1883] : 88–104). The oldest known version of the story is Straparola’s (XI, i), which is translated in full by Crane (pp. 348–350). The second oldest is also Italian, by Basile (2 : iv); the third, French, Perrault’s “Le Chat Botté.” In all three the helpful animal is a cat, as it is without exception in the German, Scandinavian, English, and French forms. In the Italian the animal is usually a cat, though the fox takes itsplace in a number of Sicilian tales. In the Greek, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Russian, and in general all East European forms, the helpful animal is regularly the fox, as it is also in the examples collected from Siberia, Kurdestan, Daghestan, and Mongolia. In the four Indian variants known, the animal is a jackal; in the four from the Philippines, a monkey. In a Swahili tale (Steere, p. 13) it is a gazelle. It is not hard to see how, through a process of transmission, jackal, fox, and cat might become interchanged; but where the Philippine monkey, consistently used in all versions, came from, is more difficult to explain; so the Swahili gazelle. I have, however, attempted an explanation below.An examination of the four members of the Philippine group reveals some striking family resemblances: (1) The motive of the monkey’s gratitude is the same in all the stories: the thieving animal is caught in some sort of trap, and promises to serve the hero for life if he will only spare it. The animal is true to its word. (2) In all the stories occurs the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it. (3) In all the versions occurs the marriage of the poor hero with the chief’s daughter, brought about by the ingenious monkey. (4) In three of the versions (all except the Pangasinan) we have as the final episode the destruction of a powerful witch or demon, and the winning of all its fortune by the monkey for the hero. In the Hindoo variants we find that the motive of the jackal’s gratitude agrees with the motive in our versions. In other respects they differ (with the exception of the marriage, which is found in nearly all members of the “Puss in Boots” cycle): the Hindoo tales lack the incidents of the borrowed measure and the destruction of the demon. So far as the opening is concerned, then, our variants and the Indian belong to the same family. The separation, however, must have taken place ages ago; for in India the animal is consistently a jackal, and in the Philippines a monkey. The only other form that I know of in which the animal is a monkey is the Arabian, in the “1001 Nights,” “Aboo Mohammed the Lazy;” but here the helpful ape later turns out to be a malicious demon, who treacherously abducts the hero’s beautiful wife. At last, through the aid of a friendlyjinnee, the hero recovers her, captures the ape, and encloses it forever in a bottle of brass. He then gains possession of all the demon’s enormous wealth. It is difficult to see any immediate connection between the Arabian version and ours.Our two Visayan forms are of particular interest in that they make use of the “Tar Baby” device to catch the monkey. If Joseph Jacobs is correct in tracing this incident to the Buddhist birth-story, the “Pancāvudha-jātaka,” No. 55 (see Indian Fairy Tales, pp. 305 ff.), the Philippines may easily have derived it directly from India alongwith other Buddhistic fables (e.g., “The Monkey and the Crocodile,” No. 56, below). Indeed, Batten’s ingenious explanation that the Brer Rabbit of Negro lore is a reminiscence of an incarnation of Buddha may be applied equally well to the monkey in our Visayan tales, for the monkey is a much more common form for the Bodhisatta than is the hare. In the five hundred and forty-seven Jātakas, Buddha is born as a hare only once; whereas in eleven separate stories he appears as a monkey,—oftener, indeed, than as any other animal (lion, ten times; stag, nine; elephant, seven). This same explanation (viz., that “Puss in Boots” is the Bodhisatta) would account for the gazelle (deer) in the Swahili tale. The extreme cleverness of the Bodhisatta in most of his animal manifestations might easily have suggested the “Puss in Boots” cycle. Another point worth noticing in connection with this theory is the consistent faithfulness of the animal. The ingratitude of the human hero, which is found even in some of the Occidental versions, and the gratitude of the animal, form a favorite Buddhistic contrast. Altogether it appears to me wholly reasonable to derive not only the “Tar Baby” incident, but also the whole “Puss in Boots” cycle, from Buddhistic lore. For the appearance of both in the Philippines we do not need to go to Europe as a source. The “Tar Baby” device to catch a thievingjackalis found in a Santal story, “The Jackal and the Chickens” (Bompas, No. CXII). See also two South African tales in Honeÿ,—“The Story of a Dam” (p. 73), and “Rabbit’s Triumph” (p. 79). For other references, see Dähnhardt, 4 : 26–43 (ch. 2).There is a connection, however, between some of the Occidental versions and three of ours,—the incident of the destruction of the demon. This detail, as I have pointed out, is hinted at in the “1001 Nights” version.1In spite of the fact that it exists in a number of the oldest European literary forms of the story and is not found in modern Indian folk-tales, I believe that this incident is of Oriental origin. In Straparola it has been rationalized, so to speak. A significant version intermediary between the Orient and Occident in this respect, as well as geographically, is the Mongolian tale of “Boroltai Ku” (FLJ 4 : 32 f):—This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.In this story, it will be noticed, the animal’s ruse is the same as ours,—it persuades the rich khan (demons in ours) to hide himself in a pit. There he is subsequently killed.The borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it has already been met with inNo. 20 (c). The incident occurs elsewhere in Filipino drolls. It is curious to find it so consistently a part of the Filipino “Puss in Boots” stories.In conclusion may be noted the fact that in “Andres the Trapper” the monkey’s solicitude over the appearance his master will make at the rich man’s house has a parallel in the jackal’s similar concern in the Santal story:—Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.In Dracott’s story the human hero is a weaver also, as in the Santal. His last exploit has been borrowed from another Indian tale not connected with our group, “Valiant Vicky the Weaver” (Steel-Temple, p. 80; cf. Kingscote, No. IX).1The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The rôle of the ape; the conflict between the good and badjinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator’s statement, “All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!”—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

Maria and the Golden Slipper.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria’s father fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do all the work in the house,—cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince’s fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, “Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.”Then Maria said to the crab, “I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have no clothes to wear.” While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, “Maria, don’t eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.” After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell.When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, “You must be in your house before twelve o’clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.”After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, “The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.”The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards tocarry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, “Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.” And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, “Let her try. It is the prince’s order that all shall try.” So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria’s feet, they almost fainted with astonishment.So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.Abadeja.This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the narrator.Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished her severely.One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, “Take these two handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black, and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are not, I shall beat you.” Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, “I am crying because my step-mother has commanded me to do theimpossible. She told me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black one into white.” The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came, ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river, crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand, led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold her if she were late.The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened, told the girl to take the chicken’s feet and plant them in the forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces, and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother about her garden.One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came acrossthis little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his son’s wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried, and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden, put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man’s house. As soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.Notes.In another variant (c), “The Wonderful Tree,” which was collected by Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,—Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.For still other Philippine variants of the Cinderella story, see JAFL 19 : 265–272, where Fletcher Gardner gives two oral Tagalog versions. In the same journal (29 : 226 f.) I have given synopses of two Tagalog metrical romances which open with the Cinderella setting.The Cinderella story is perhaps the most widespreadMärchenin the world. See M. R. Cox’s bibliographical study of it: “Cinderella, 345 Variants of Cinderella, Catskin, and Cap o’ Rushes, abstracted and tabulated, with a discussion of medieval analogues, and notes. London, 1893.” Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 21, examine Miss Cox’s material from a somewhat new angle, and are very useful for reference. It seems hardly necessary to attempt to add here to those two exhaustive monographs. Attention may be called to the fact, however, that our story of “Abadeja,” which comes from Leyte,presents a number of interesting items not found in the other Filipino variants: e.g., (1) the task of washing a black handkerchief white, andvice-versâ; (2) the magic tree growing up from the feet of a wonderful chicken given the heroine by the mysterious woman; (3) the unusual device for providing a rich husband for the heroine. There are some slight resemblances between these last two details and corresponding incidents in Mr. Rusk’s variant “The Wonderful Tree.”Juan the Poor.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, who heard this story from her grandfather.Many years ago there lived a king who was always sad. He used to go to a mountain and climb the highest tree that was growing there. One day when he was in the top of the tree, he saw on another high mountain a beautiful princess, Doña Maria. When he returned home to his palace, he sent a proclamation all over his kingdom, saying that the one who could take Doña Maria from her mountain and bring her before him should have one-half of his kingdom.Juan was a beggar; and it was his custom, whenever he saw a beggar like himself, to share with that beggar the alms which had been given him. One day he saw a wretched old woman, and out of pity for her he gave her all the food he had begged that day. Then the old woman, who knew of the proclamation of the king, said to Juan, “You must tell the king, my boy, that you will fetch Doña Maria for him.” Juan did not want to, because he said that he did not know where and how he might get Doña Maria; but the old woman at last persuaded Juan to go by telling him that she would accompany him, and promising her help. After Juan had visited the palace and told the king that he would bring the princess Doña Maria to him, the poor boy and the old woman set out on their journey to the distant mountain. When they reached the gates of the city, the old woman said to Juan, “Juan, I am very tired, and I cannot go any farther, but I will give you this handkerchief. When you come to the first mountain, you must spread the handkerchief on the ground, and many fat horses will approach you; but I advise you not to choose any of them. You must choose the very last one, which will be lean and weak-looking. That is the horse which can endure hardships, and which will be able to carry you to the princess’s palace.”Juan followed the advice of the old woman, when the timecame, and chose the thin horse. He mounted on its back, and rode on towards the mountain of Doña Maria. When he had ridden very far, he saw before him a hill full of ants. He was afraid to try to pass over this hill, lest the ants should devour him and his animal. The horse said to him, “You must ask the handkerchief for food, and we will feed the ants.” Juan spread out the handkerchief, and asked it to bring him much food. After he had scattered it on the ground for the ants, the leader of the ants approached Juan, and said, “Since you have been very kind to us, I will give you one of my legs; and at any time you want aid from us, you must burn the leg, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to help you.”When Juan had again gone a long distance from the hill, he saw the sky full of birds flying around and looking for food. Again the horse told Juan to ask for food from the handkerchief; so that they might feed the birds, and not be killed by them and eaten. Juan did so, and gave the birds all they wanted to eat. Then the king of the birds, the eagle, flew up to Juan, and said, “To repay you for your kindness, I will give you some feathers from my wings. Any time you want aid from us, just burn some of the feathers, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to you.” Juan thanked the bird, and put the feathers in his pocket where he kept the leg of the ant.Then he continued his journey. When they came near the palace of Doña Maria, the horse told Juan to hide, and said that he alone would enter her garden; but before he should hide, Juan should ask his handkerchief for a complete equipment of saddle and bridle, so that the horse could be mounted by a lady. Juan did so, hid himself, and the horse wandered into the garden of Doña Maria. When the princess saw the horse, she became very angry, and said, “Who is the one who is so bold as to let his horse enter my garden?” She looked all about, but could see no one: so she said to herself, “I will mount this horse and find out who its owner is.” She mounted the horse, which immediately ran to the place where Juan was hiding, and told him to get up on its back. Then the horse carried them swiftly back to the small house of Juan. When he reached home, Juan sent word to the king that the princess Doña Maria was in his home. The king, accompanied by all his retinue, went in great state to Juan’s house, made over to him one-half of his dominion, and took Doña Maria back to his palace.Now, Doña Maria was very beautiful, and the king fell deeply in love with her. When he was alone with her in the palace, he began to court her. He asked her to be his wife; but Doña Maria said, “Only the one who can do what I wish him to do shall be my husband. I will mix one hundredcavansof husked rice with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice (palay). He who in one night can separate the two kinds of rice, and also bring my palace here to your kingdom, shall be married to me.” The king said that no one could accomplish those things; but Doña Maria told him that there was one who could accomplish the tasks, and that was Juan.The king then sent for Juan, and said to him, “Juan, here are one hundredcavansof husked rice mixed with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice. To-night you must separate the grain into two piles, and also transport the palace of Doña Maria to my kingdom. If you have not done both by to-morrow morning, you shall lose your head.” Juan went away very sad toward the mountain. As he was walking along, he met the thin horse which had helped him before. The horse said to him, “Why are you so sad, Juan?” Juan told the horse what the king had ordered him to do. Then the horse said, “Don’t be sad, Juan! you can accomplish both those difficult tasks. Don’t you remember the leg of the ant and the feathers of the eagle which were given to you, and the promise of the ant and eagle?” So Juan took the ant’s leg and the feathers from his pocket, burned them, and threw the ashes into the air. In a short time thousands of birds and ants came to him and asked him what he wanted. Then Juan said, “I want the palace of Doña Maria brought here before daybreak, and the two hundredcavansof mixed rice separated.” When they heard Juan’s order, the birds flew to the mountain to get the palace, and the ants hastened to the king’s grounds to separate the unhusked from the husked rice.By morning both tasks were completed: so Juan was married to Doña Maria, for she would have no other husband.Notes.Although this story is clearly derived from the Tagalog romance of the “Life of King Asuero,” nevertheless it is also told as a folk-tale, and for that reason I have included it in this collection. As has been intimated already so many times, it is often hard to draw the linebetween folk-tales and literary tales, especially when the latter are widely told and read. Since our object in this collection is to present to Occidental readers a comprehensive account of whatisin Philippine popular literature, it has seemed unwise to exclude this story.The full title of the romance is “The Story and Life of King Asuero, Doña Maria, and Juan the Poor, in the City of Jerusalem.” My copy is dated 1905; Retana (No. 4192) mentions an edition between the years 1860 and 1898. In outline the folk-tale differs little from the romance, hence it is unnecessary to give a detailed summary of the printed version. The more important variations might be noted, however. The romance opens thus:—Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.The folk-tale and the romance are practically identical, except that the romance is more detailed, up to the point where the horse leaves Juan to go to entice Doña Maria from her palace and get her in its power.The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....The romance closes with the inevitable war with the Moors, and the rescue of the kingdom from the hands of the Pagans by the invincible Juan.The exact source of this romance I am unable to point to; but without question it is Occidental, I believe.The Fate of an Envious Woman.Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. He was told the story by his gardener.There lived once upon a time a young couple of the middle class. The man was a reckless scapegrace and spendthrift; but the woman was a pious, faithful, and virtuous housewife. Juan was the husband’s name; Maria, the wife’s. One of the worst things about Juan was that he spent on another woman the greater part of the money which Maria could with difficulty scrape together. This other woman’s name was Flora. It is true that she surpassed Maria in personal charm, but in real worth Flora was greatly Maria’s inferior. Hence we should not wonder at the fact that Maria soon grew distasteful to her husband, and that after a year of married life he should seek to be entertained by a more beautiful woman. He spent most of his time in listless indolence by the side of Flora, returning home only to get his meals, which Maria prepared with the greatest care. But her efforts were all to no purpose. In vain did Maria array herself in her best clothes, and scent herself with the most delicate perfumes: her face remained pitted with small-pox scars, as before.Years came and passed, and Juan became more and more harsh to his wife. At last Maria sought the aid of St. Vicente Ferrer. She knelt before the image, and asked the saint torescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Her prayers were soon answered. The image became animated. It touched her face several times, and in a few seconds Maria was converted into an extraordinary beauty. Her once rough skin was now smooth and velvety. She then went to the window to await her husband’s return. When he arrived an hour later, he was at first unwilling to come up into the house, for he did not believe that the beautiful woman was his wife; but at last she disclosed her true self to him. A great change now came over Juan. The once despised wife now began to enjoy the caresses of her husband, who pressed her close to his heart.Days elapsed, and Flora began to get uneasy at her home. She wondered why Juan did not come to see her. At length she went to his house. After asking Maria how she had acquired her beauty, Flora decided to try her fortune also. She too knelt before the image of St. Vicente Ferrer. But, alas! instead of becoming as white and as beautiful as the women of a Turkish harem, she became as black and as ugly as the mistress of a Kaffir household. Her once delicate lips became thick and coarse, and her nose became as long as a monkey’s tail. Filled with shame at her appearance, and with a consciousness of her own guilt, she went home, where she pined away and died.The once homely Maria, whose home had rung with laughter by the taunt and ridicule of those who made fun of her ugliness,1now graced her house with sweet smiles and engaging features, which drew scores of visitors to her home. Juan confessed his sins, and underwent penance for his wickedness; and the two lived together in peace and happiness the rest of their lives.Notes.A Visayan variant, “The Two Wives and the Witch,” may be found in JAFL 19 : 105. In the southern version “Juan puts away his first, plain-looking wife, and takes another, handsomer one. The first wife, weeping by a well, is transformed by a witch into a beautiful woman. She wins her husband’s affections back again. The second wife, deserted in turn, weeps by the well, and is transformed by the witch into such a hideous old hag, that, when she looks at herself inthe glass and sees her ugliness, she refuses to eat, and in a few days dies.”In a broad way this story and ours belong to the “Toads and Diamonds” group (see Grimm, No. 13 [“The Three Little Men in the Wood”] and No. 24 [“Mother Holle”]; and Bolte-Polívka’s notes to the two stories). In these groups, however, the two young women are sisters,—one bad, and the other good. About all there is in common between the norm of the “Toads and Diamonds” cycle and our tales is the situation of the plain-looking but faithful, unselfish, good-hearted woman being granted by some supernatural creature wealth and beauty; while the handsome but selfish and wicked woman, envious of her rival’s good luck, becomes loathsome and miserable when she asks a boon from the same supernatural source.The only other member of this group that narrates the story oftwo wivesinstead of two sisters is Lal Behari Day’s No. 22. This Bengal tale, it appears to me, is related both to our stories and to those of the “Mother Holle” group, thus linking ours with the latter also. Following is Cosquin’s summary of Day’s story (2 : 123):—A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.It is unsafe to attempt to trace a story with only three examples as data: but it appears to me not unreasonable to suppose that our Tagalog story is a refined, pious, Christianized modernization of the Visayan form represented by “The Two Wives and the Witch;” and that the Visayan form, in turn, goes back to some Indian or Malayan moral tale of two wives, rivals for the affection of their husband. The Bengali tale can hardly be the direct source of our Visayan form, but it appears to be fairly closely related to that source.1The Filipinos have many mocking children’s rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.The Monkey and Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the “inhabitants of yesterday;” and that even now many are fond of it.Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called “La Campana” because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died: consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her.One day Juan went to Pit-pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his cornfield. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew backto the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again.For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, “I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.” He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field.The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. “Good-morning, Juan!” said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. “You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,” continued the monkey. “I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.” The waxen statue still stood motionless. “Do you hear me, Juan?” said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. “Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!” he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. “Let my hand loose!” the monkey shouted, “or you will get another present.” Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. “You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I’ll kick you.” He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, “Now I have caught you, you thief!” He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient tofulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. “Good-morning, Master Juan!” he cried. “I see that you are busy.”“Busy indeed!” replied Juan.“Master Juan, do you want to marry the king’s daughter? If you do, I’ll arrange everything for you,” said the monkey.Juan replied, “Yes,” little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true.The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king’s palace, and said, “Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow yourganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him theganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. “My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,” said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure.“Here, monkey, here are your three cents!” said the king. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” answered the monkey, laughing, “my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.” The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself.Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, “Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow yourgantaagain. He wants to finish measuring his money.”The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow theganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.”“My master, Juan,” replied the monkey, “is the richest man in the world.”Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of theganta. “I’ll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,” he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow.As he was walking towards Juan’s farm, the monkey noticedthe four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of theganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. “Good-afternoon, king!” said he, “my master, Juan, returns you yourgantawith a thousand thanks.”“Very well,” replied the king; “but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.”The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, “Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?”“I have not heard of him,” replied the lord, “except from this monkey and yourself.”The king then turned to the monkey, and said, “Monkey, if you don’t tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I’ll hang you.” Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth.Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, “My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi. If you will just look out of your window to-morrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.”The king’s anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. “This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,” he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, “The monkey desires to see you.”The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, “My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.” At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter.“If my master does not call on you to-day, he will surely come to-morrow.” So saying, the monkey left the palace, andran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan.“To-morrow, Juan,” said the monkey, “you will marry the princess. I’ll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.” Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. “What do you think of me?” asked the monkey.Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, “What are you trying to do?”“Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before tomorrow noon,” replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. “I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.”The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, “For mercy’s sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!” They were already trembling with fear.“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!” On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, “Tell us where to hide!”“If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I’ll jump into the well,” said the monkey in a hoarse voice.As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word “well,” they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. “Let me jump first!” said the monkey.“No, let us jump first!” shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going tofollow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. “They are dead,” he said to himself, laughing. “Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!”The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. “This is the very place where my master shall live!” He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: “My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.”Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. “My master is indeed rich,” he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, “Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.”After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, “Throw away your plough. Let’s go to the king’s palace, for to-night you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.”Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, “Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.”But the king replied, “He is rich. If you don’t marry him, I’ll punish you very severely.” The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, “O God! let me die.”When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, “Where is the couple going to live?”“In Don Juan’s palace,” was the reply of the monkey.The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, “Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.” Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. “I wonder who owns these, monkey!” said the king.The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. “Good-evening, king!” they said.“Good-evening!” replied the king. “Whose cattle are these?”“They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,” said the shepherds.The king nodded, and said to himself, “He is truly rich.” The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. “Why, it is not a palace; it is heaven itself,” he said.They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, “I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.” Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church.The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister.This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.Andres the Trapper.Narrated by Domingo Perez of San Carlos, Pangasinan, who heard the story from his grandfather, now dead. The story is popular among the Pangasinanes.Once upon a time there lived in a village a poor widow who had an only son named Andres. They lived in a small hut situated near the Patacbo forest. When Andres was between twelve and thirteen years old, his mother died. From now on he lived alone in his mean little hut, where he had to cook his own food and wash his clothes.One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickensused to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes.One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, “My dear Andres, don’t harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.”Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market.Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio’s house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure.“Who is your master?” said Don Toribio.“Don’t you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,” said the monkey.Don Toribio at once lent theganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned itto the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure.When the monkey handed thegantaback to Don Toribio, the man said, “Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?”“No, sir!” said the monkey, “we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.”“Well,” said Don Toribio, “we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?”“Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till to-morrow,” said the monkey.Don Toribio then brought acavan, which equals about twenty-fivegantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, “Where did you get that box?” The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town.“What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?” said Andres.“I told him that you wanted to count your money,” said the monkey.“Ah, me!” said Andres, “what money are you going to count? Don’t you know that we are very poor?”“Let me manage things, Andres,” said the monkey, “and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.”The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took thecavanwhich he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure.“Good-morning, Don Toribio!” said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house.“Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?” replied the rich man. “Have you come to return the box?”“Yes, sir!” said the monkey, “we have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.” When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, “Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.”“I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,” said Don Toribio to himself.“Perhaps he is even richer than I am.” When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation.On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter.When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio’s daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time.A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.Notes.Two other Philippine variants of the “Puss in Boots” cycle have been printed,—one Visayan, “Masoy and the Ape” (JAFL 20 : 311–314); and the other Tagalog, “Juan and the Monkey” (ibid., 108–109). It would thus appear, not only from the fact of its wide distribution, but also from the testimony of the recorders of the stories, that the tale is fairly well known and popular throughout the Archipelago.The most complete bibliography of this cycle is Bolte-Polívka’s notes on Grimm, No. 33 (a), “Puss in Boots” (Anmerkungen, I : 325–334). See also Köhler’s notes to Gonzenbach, No. 65, “Vom Conte Piro” (2 : 242 f.); Macculloch, ch. VIII (p. 225 f.); W. R. S. Ralston in the “Nineteenth Century” (13 [1883] : 88–104). The oldest known version of the story is Straparola’s (XI, i), which is translated in full by Crane (pp. 348–350). The second oldest is also Italian, by Basile (2 : iv); the third, French, Perrault’s “Le Chat Botté.” In all three the helpful animal is a cat, as it is without exception in the German, Scandinavian, English, and French forms. In the Italian the animal is usually a cat, though the fox takes itsplace in a number of Sicilian tales. In the Greek, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Russian, and in general all East European forms, the helpful animal is regularly the fox, as it is also in the examples collected from Siberia, Kurdestan, Daghestan, and Mongolia. In the four Indian variants known, the animal is a jackal; in the four from the Philippines, a monkey. In a Swahili tale (Steere, p. 13) it is a gazelle. It is not hard to see how, through a process of transmission, jackal, fox, and cat might become interchanged; but where the Philippine monkey, consistently used in all versions, came from, is more difficult to explain; so the Swahili gazelle. I have, however, attempted an explanation below.An examination of the four members of the Philippine group reveals some striking family resemblances: (1) The motive of the monkey’s gratitude is the same in all the stories: the thieving animal is caught in some sort of trap, and promises to serve the hero for life if he will only spare it. The animal is true to its word. (2) In all the stories occurs the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it. (3) In all the versions occurs the marriage of the poor hero with the chief’s daughter, brought about by the ingenious monkey. (4) In three of the versions (all except the Pangasinan) we have as the final episode the destruction of a powerful witch or demon, and the winning of all its fortune by the monkey for the hero. In the Hindoo variants we find that the motive of the jackal’s gratitude agrees with the motive in our versions. In other respects they differ (with the exception of the marriage, which is found in nearly all members of the “Puss in Boots” cycle): the Hindoo tales lack the incidents of the borrowed measure and the destruction of the demon. So far as the opening is concerned, then, our variants and the Indian belong to the same family. The separation, however, must have taken place ages ago; for in India the animal is consistently a jackal, and in the Philippines a monkey. The only other form that I know of in which the animal is a monkey is the Arabian, in the “1001 Nights,” “Aboo Mohammed the Lazy;” but here the helpful ape later turns out to be a malicious demon, who treacherously abducts the hero’s beautiful wife. At last, through the aid of a friendlyjinnee, the hero recovers her, captures the ape, and encloses it forever in a bottle of brass. He then gains possession of all the demon’s enormous wealth. It is difficult to see any immediate connection between the Arabian version and ours.Our two Visayan forms are of particular interest in that they make use of the “Tar Baby” device to catch the monkey. If Joseph Jacobs is correct in tracing this incident to the Buddhist birth-story, the “Pancāvudha-jātaka,” No. 55 (see Indian Fairy Tales, pp. 305 ff.), the Philippines may easily have derived it directly from India alongwith other Buddhistic fables (e.g., “The Monkey and the Crocodile,” No. 56, below). Indeed, Batten’s ingenious explanation that the Brer Rabbit of Negro lore is a reminiscence of an incarnation of Buddha may be applied equally well to the monkey in our Visayan tales, for the monkey is a much more common form for the Bodhisatta than is the hare. In the five hundred and forty-seven Jātakas, Buddha is born as a hare only once; whereas in eleven separate stories he appears as a monkey,—oftener, indeed, than as any other animal (lion, ten times; stag, nine; elephant, seven). This same explanation (viz., that “Puss in Boots” is the Bodhisatta) would account for the gazelle (deer) in the Swahili tale. The extreme cleverness of the Bodhisatta in most of his animal manifestations might easily have suggested the “Puss in Boots” cycle. Another point worth noticing in connection with this theory is the consistent faithfulness of the animal. The ingratitude of the human hero, which is found even in some of the Occidental versions, and the gratitude of the animal, form a favorite Buddhistic contrast. Altogether it appears to me wholly reasonable to derive not only the “Tar Baby” incident, but also the whole “Puss in Boots” cycle, from Buddhistic lore. For the appearance of both in the Philippines we do not need to go to Europe as a source. The “Tar Baby” device to catch a thievingjackalis found in a Santal story, “The Jackal and the Chickens” (Bompas, No. CXII). See also two South African tales in Honeÿ,—“The Story of a Dam” (p. 73), and “Rabbit’s Triumph” (p. 79). For other references, see Dähnhardt, 4 : 26–43 (ch. 2).There is a connection, however, between some of the Occidental versions and three of ours,—the incident of the destruction of the demon. This detail, as I have pointed out, is hinted at in the “1001 Nights” version.1In spite of the fact that it exists in a number of the oldest European literary forms of the story and is not found in modern Indian folk-tales, I believe that this incident is of Oriental origin. In Straparola it has been rationalized, so to speak. A significant version intermediary between the Orient and Occident in this respect, as well as geographically, is the Mongolian tale of “Boroltai Ku” (FLJ 4 : 32 f):—This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.In this story, it will be noticed, the animal’s ruse is the same as ours,—it persuades the rich khan (demons in ours) to hide himself in a pit. There he is subsequently killed.The borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it has already been met with inNo. 20 (c). The incident occurs elsewhere in Filipino drolls. It is curious to find it so consistently a part of the Filipino “Puss in Boots” stories.In conclusion may be noted the fact that in “Andres the Trapper” the monkey’s solicitude over the appearance his master will make at the rich man’s house has a parallel in the jackal’s similar concern in the Santal story:—Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.In Dracott’s story the human hero is a weaver also, as in the Santal. His last exploit has been borrowed from another Indian tale not connected with our group, “Valiant Vicky the Weaver” (Steel-Temple, p. 80; cf. Kingscote, No. IX).1The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The rôle of the ape; the conflict between the good and badjinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator’s statement, “All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!”—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

Maria and the Golden Slipper.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria’s father fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do all the work in the house,—cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince’s fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, “Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.”Then Maria said to the crab, “I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have no clothes to wear.” While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, “Maria, don’t eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.” After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell.When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, “You must be in your house before twelve o’clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.”After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, “The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.”The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards tocarry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, “Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.” And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, “Let her try. It is the prince’s order that all shall try.” So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria’s feet, they almost fainted with astonishment.So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.Abadeja.This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the narrator.Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished her severely.One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, “Take these two handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black, and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are not, I shall beat you.” Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, “I am crying because my step-mother has commanded me to do theimpossible. She told me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black one into white.” The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came, ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river, crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand, led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold her if she were late.The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened, told the girl to take the chicken’s feet and plant them in the forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces, and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother about her garden.One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came acrossthis little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his son’s wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried, and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden, put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man’s house. As soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.Notes.In another variant (c), “The Wonderful Tree,” which was collected by Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,—Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.For still other Philippine variants of the Cinderella story, see JAFL 19 : 265–272, where Fletcher Gardner gives two oral Tagalog versions. In the same journal (29 : 226 f.) I have given synopses of two Tagalog metrical romances which open with the Cinderella setting.The Cinderella story is perhaps the most widespreadMärchenin the world. See M. R. Cox’s bibliographical study of it: “Cinderella, 345 Variants of Cinderella, Catskin, and Cap o’ Rushes, abstracted and tabulated, with a discussion of medieval analogues, and notes. London, 1893.” Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 21, examine Miss Cox’s material from a somewhat new angle, and are very useful for reference. It seems hardly necessary to attempt to add here to those two exhaustive monographs. Attention may be called to the fact, however, that our story of “Abadeja,” which comes from Leyte,presents a number of interesting items not found in the other Filipino variants: e.g., (1) the task of washing a black handkerchief white, andvice-versâ; (2) the magic tree growing up from the feet of a wonderful chicken given the heroine by the mysterious woman; (3) the unusual device for providing a rich husband for the heroine. There are some slight resemblances between these last two details and corresponding incidents in Mr. Rusk’s variant “The Wonderful Tree.”

Maria and the Golden Slipper.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria’s father fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do all the work in the house,—cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince’s fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, “Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.”Then Maria said to the crab, “I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have no clothes to wear.” While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, “Maria, don’t eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.” After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell.When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, “You must be in your house before twelve o’clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.”After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, “The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.”The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards tocarry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, “Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.” And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, “Let her try. It is the prince’s order that all shall try.” So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria’s feet, they almost fainted with astonishment.So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.

Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She says that this is a Tagalog story, and was told to her when she was a little girl.

Once there lived a couple who had an only daughter, Maria. When Maria was a little girl, her mother died. A few years later Maria’s father fell in love with a widow named Juana, who had two daughters. The elder of these daughters was Rosa, and the younger was Damiana. When Maria was grown to be a young woman, her father married the woman Juana. Maria continued to live with her father and step-mother. But Juana and her two daughters treated Maria as a servant. She had to do all the work in the house,—cook the food, wash the clothes, clean the floors. The only clothes she herself had to wear were ragged and dirty.

One day Prince Malecadel wanted to get married: so he gave a ball, to which he invited all the ladies in his kingdom. He said that the most beautiful of all was to be his wife. When Damiana and Rosa knew that all the ladies were invited, they began to discuss what clothes they would wear to the ball; but poor Maria was in the river, washing the clothes. Maria was very sad and was weeping, for she had no clothes at all in which she could appear at the prince’s fête. While she was washing, a crab approached her, and said, “Why are you crying, Maria? Tell me the reason, for I am your mother.”

Then Maria said to the crab, “I am treated by my aunt (sic!) and sisters as a servant; and there will be a ball to-night, but I have no clothes to wear.” While she was talking to the crab, Juana came up. The step-mother was very angry with Maria, and ordered her to catch the crab and cook it for their dinner. Maria seized the crab and carried it to the house. At first she did not want to cook it, for she knew that it was her mother; but Juana whipped her so hard, that at last she was forced to obey. Before it was put in the earthen pot to be cooked, the crab said to Maria, “Maria, don’t eat my flesh, but collect all my shell after I am eaten, and bury the pieces in the garden near the house. They will grow into a tree, and you can have what you want if you will only ask the tree for it.” After her parents had eaten the flesh of the crab, Maria collected all its shell and buried it in the garden. At twilight she saw a tree standing on the very spot where she had buried the shell.

When night came, Rosa and Damiana went to the ball, and Juana retired for the night as soon as her daughters were gone. When Maria saw that her aunt was sleeping, she went into the garden and asked the tree for what she wanted. The tree changed her clothes into very beautiful ones, and furnished her with a fine coach drawn by four fine horses, and a pair of golden slippers. Before she left, the tree said to her, “You must be in your house before twelve o’clock. If you are not, your clothes will be changed into ragged, dirty ones again, and your coach will disappear.”

After promising to remember the warning of the tree, Maria went to the ball, where she was received by the prince very graciously. All the ladies were astonished when they saw her: she was the most beautiful of all. Then she sat between her two sisters, but neither Rosa nor Damiana recognized her. The prince danced with her all the time. When Maria saw that it was half-past eleven, she bade farewell to the prince and all the ladies present, and went home. When she reached the garden, the tree changed her beautiful clothes back into her old ones, and the coach disappeared. Then she went to bed and to sleep. When her sisters came home, they told her of everything that had happened at the ball.

The next night the prince gave another ball. After Rosa and Damiana had dressed themselves in their best clothes and gone, Maria again went to the garden to ask for beautiful clothes. This time she was given a coach drawn by five (?) horses, and again the tree warned her to return before twelve. The prince was delighted to see her, and danced with her the whole evening. Maria was so enchanted that she forgot to notice the time. While she was dancing, she heard the clock striking twelve. She ran as fast as she could down stairs and out the palace-door, but in her haste she dropped one of her golden slippers. This night she had to walk home, and in her old ragged clothes, too. One of her golden slippers she had with her; but the other, which she had dropped at the door, was found by one of the guards, who gave it to the prince. The guard said that the slipper had been lost by the beautiful lady who ran out of the palace when the clock was striking twelve. Then the prince said to all the people present, “The lady whom this slipper fits is to be my wife.”

The next morning the prince ordered one of his guards tocarry the slipper to every house in the city to see if its owner could be found. The first house visited was the one in which Maria lived. Rosa tried to put the slipper on her foot, but her foot was much too big. Then Damiana put it on her foot, but her foot was too small. The two sisters tried and tried again to make the slipper fit, but in vain. Then Maria told them that she would try, and see if the slipper would fit her foot; but her sisters said to her, “Your feet are very dirty. This golden slipper will not go on your foot, for your feet are larger than ours.” And they laughed at her. But the guard who had brought the slipper said, “Let her try. It is the prince’s order that all shall try.” So he gave it to Maria. Then Maria put it on, and it fitted her foot exactly. She then drew the other slipper from underneath her dress, and put it on her other foot. When the two sisters saw the two slippers on Maria’s feet, they almost fainted with astonishment.

So Maria became the wife of the prince, and from that time on she was very dear to her sisters and aunt.

Abadeja.This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the narrator.Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished her severely.One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, “Take these two handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black, and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are not, I shall beat you.” Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, “I am crying because my step-mother has commanded me to do theimpossible. She told me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black one into white.” The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came, ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river, crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand, led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold her if she were late.The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened, told the girl to take the chicken’s feet and plant them in the forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces, and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother about her garden.One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came acrossthis little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his son’s wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried, and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden, put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man’s house. As soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.

This is a Visayan story from Leyte. Unfortunately I have no record of the name of the narrator.

Once upon a time there lived in the town of Baybay a man whose name was Abac. The name of his wife was Abadesa. They had a beautiful daughter named Abadeja. The mother died when her daughter was about thirteen years old; and in a year her father married again, a widow who had three daughters. The second wife envied her step-daughter because Abadeja was much more beautiful than her own children: consequently she treated the poor girl very badly, and made her do all the hard work. When Abadeja could not do the work, her step-mother punished her severely.

One evening the step-mother said to Abadeja, “Take these two handkerchiefs to the river and wash them. The white one must be black, and the black one white, when you bring them back to me. If they are not, I shall beat you.” Abadeja went to the river, where she sat down on a rock and began to cry. In a little while she heard a noise that made her look up. There in front of her stood a beautiful woman. The woman asked Abadeja why she was crying. Abadeja replied, “I am crying because my step-mother has commanded me to do theimpossible. She told me that I must change this white handkerchief into black, and the black one into white.” The woman took the handkerchiefs, and in an instant they were transformed. Then she gave them back to Abadeja, and invited the girl to come see her any time she needed help. After she had spoken thus, she disappeared. Abadeja went home and gave the handkerchiefs to her cruel step-mother, who now had no excuse to punish her.

The next morning Abadeja was ordered to put some rice on a mat in the sun to dry. While she was in the house doing other work, a pig came, ate up the rice, and tore the mat to pieces. When the step-mother knew what had happened, she whipped Abadeja severely for having lost the rice, and told her that she would have to repair the mat so that it was as good as new. Abadeja took the mat and went across the river, crying. The beautiful woman met her again, and, taking her by the hand, led her to her home among the high trees. Then she asked Abadeja what she wanted. Abadeja told her friend that her step-mother had ordered her to repair the mat so that it would be as good as new. The woman took the mat from the girl and waved it in the air. Immediately it became a whole mat again. Then she gave Abadeja a beautifully-colored chicken. Abadeja thanked her for her help and her gift, and hurried home, for she knew that her step-mother would be waiting to scold her if she were late.

The next day when Abadeja was away from the house, her cruel step-mother took the chicken, killed it, and cooked it. When the girl returned, only the feet of her chicken were left. She cried over her loss, and ran to the river to ask the beautiful woman what she should do. The beautiful woman, when she heard what had happened, told the girl to take the chicken’s feet and plant them in the forest. Abadeja went home, took the feet, and carried them with her to the forest. There she made a little garden, in which she planted the right foot toward the east, and the left foot toward the west.

A month later she visited her garden in the woods, and was astonished to see that the feet had grown up into the air, and that they bore pearls, diamonds, gold dresses, rings, bracelets, shoes, necklaces, and ear-rings. She was delighted, but she did not tell her step-mother about her garden.

One day the son of the richest man in Baybay came acrossthis little garden in the forest. He picked off a ring and put it on his finger. When he reached home, his finger began to swell. His father called in all the best physicians, but they could not remove the ring. Then he called in all the girls of the town, and said that the one who could take the ring from the finger of his son should be his son’s wife. All the girls of the town tried except Abadeja. She did not try, because her mother would not allow her to go. At last some one told the rich man that there was still a girl who had not tried, and that it was Abadeja: so he sent for her. Now, her step-mother did not dare refuse to let her go. Abadeja ran to her little garden, put on one of the gold dresses, and went to the rich man’s house. As soon as she touched the ring, it slid off.

The next day Abadeja was married to the son of the rich man. The beautiful woman attended the wedding unseen by every one except Abadeja. The young couple lived happily for many years.

Notes.In another variant (c), “The Wonderful Tree,” which was collected by Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,—Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.For still other Philippine variants of the Cinderella story, see JAFL 19 : 265–272, where Fletcher Gardner gives two oral Tagalog versions. In the same journal (29 : 226 f.) I have given synopses of two Tagalog metrical romances which open with the Cinderella setting.The Cinderella story is perhaps the most widespreadMärchenin the world. See M. R. Cox’s bibliographical study of it: “Cinderella, 345 Variants of Cinderella, Catskin, and Cap o’ Rushes, abstracted and tabulated, with a discussion of medieval analogues, and notes. London, 1893.” Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 21, examine Miss Cox’s material from a somewhat new angle, and are very useful for reference. It seems hardly necessary to attempt to add here to those two exhaustive monographs. Attention may be called to the fact, however, that our story of “Abadeja,” which comes from Leyte,presents a number of interesting items not found in the other Filipino variants: e.g., (1) the task of washing a black handkerchief white, andvice-versâ; (2) the magic tree growing up from the feet of a wonderful chicken given the heroine by the mysterious woman; (3) the unusual device for providing a rich husband for the heroine. There are some slight resemblances between these last two details and corresponding incidents in Mr. Rusk’s variant “The Wonderful Tree.”

In another variant (c), “The Wonderful Tree,” which was collected by Mr. Rusk, and of which I have only an abstract,—

Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.

Maria’s mother was drowned by the cruel husband, a fisherman, who desired to marry another woman. The daughter was now ill-treated by her step-mother, and often went to the seashore to talk with the spirit of her dead mother. When the mother could no longer continue the meetings with Maria, she told her to plant in a certain place all the fins of all the fish the family should eat on a certain day. From these fins there grew up a magic tree of gold and precious stones. One day a prince, hearing the music made by the wind in the magic tree, approached the tree and found the beautiful Maria. Later he married her.

For still other Philippine variants of the Cinderella story, see JAFL 19 : 265–272, where Fletcher Gardner gives two oral Tagalog versions. In the same journal (29 : 226 f.) I have given synopses of two Tagalog metrical romances which open with the Cinderella setting.

The Cinderella story is perhaps the most widespreadMärchenin the world. See M. R. Cox’s bibliographical study of it: “Cinderella, 345 Variants of Cinderella, Catskin, and Cap o’ Rushes, abstracted and tabulated, with a discussion of medieval analogues, and notes. London, 1893.” Bolte-Polívka’s notes to Grimm, No. 21, examine Miss Cox’s material from a somewhat new angle, and are very useful for reference. It seems hardly necessary to attempt to add here to those two exhaustive monographs. Attention may be called to the fact, however, that our story of “Abadeja,” which comes from Leyte,presents a number of interesting items not found in the other Filipino variants: e.g., (1) the task of washing a black handkerchief white, andvice-versâ; (2) the magic tree growing up from the feet of a wonderful chicken given the heroine by the mysterious woman; (3) the unusual device for providing a rich husband for the heroine. There are some slight resemblances between these last two details and corresponding incidents in Mr. Rusk’s variant “The Wonderful Tree.”

Juan the Poor.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, who heard this story from her grandfather.Many years ago there lived a king who was always sad. He used to go to a mountain and climb the highest tree that was growing there. One day when he was in the top of the tree, he saw on another high mountain a beautiful princess, Doña Maria. When he returned home to his palace, he sent a proclamation all over his kingdom, saying that the one who could take Doña Maria from her mountain and bring her before him should have one-half of his kingdom.Juan was a beggar; and it was his custom, whenever he saw a beggar like himself, to share with that beggar the alms which had been given him. One day he saw a wretched old woman, and out of pity for her he gave her all the food he had begged that day. Then the old woman, who knew of the proclamation of the king, said to Juan, “You must tell the king, my boy, that you will fetch Doña Maria for him.” Juan did not want to, because he said that he did not know where and how he might get Doña Maria; but the old woman at last persuaded Juan to go by telling him that she would accompany him, and promising her help. After Juan had visited the palace and told the king that he would bring the princess Doña Maria to him, the poor boy and the old woman set out on their journey to the distant mountain. When they reached the gates of the city, the old woman said to Juan, “Juan, I am very tired, and I cannot go any farther, but I will give you this handkerchief. When you come to the first mountain, you must spread the handkerchief on the ground, and many fat horses will approach you; but I advise you not to choose any of them. You must choose the very last one, which will be lean and weak-looking. That is the horse which can endure hardships, and which will be able to carry you to the princess’s palace.”Juan followed the advice of the old woman, when the timecame, and chose the thin horse. He mounted on its back, and rode on towards the mountain of Doña Maria. When he had ridden very far, he saw before him a hill full of ants. He was afraid to try to pass over this hill, lest the ants should devour him and his animal. The horse said to him, “You must ask the handkerchief for food, and we will feed the ants.” Juan spread out the handkerchief, and asked it to bring him much food. After he had scattered it on the ground for the ants, the leader of the ants approached Juan, and said, “Since you have been very kind to us, I will give you one of my legs; and at any time you want aid from us, you must burn the leg, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to help you.”When Juan had again gone a long distance from the hill, he saw the sky full of birds flying around and looking for food. Again the horse told Juan to ask for food from the handkerchief; so that they might feed the birds, and not be killed by them and eaten. Juan did so, and gave the birds all they wanted to eat. Then the king of the birds, the eagle, flew up to Juan, and said, “To repay you for your kindness, I will give you some feathers from my wings. Any time you want aid from us, just burn some of the feathers, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to you.” Juan thanked the bird, and put the feathers in his pocket where he kept the leg of the ant.Then he continued his journey. When they came near the palace of Doña Maria, the horse told Juan to hide, and said that he alone would enter her garden; but before he should hide, Juan should ask his handkerchief for a complete equipment of saddle and bridle, so that the horse could be mounted by a lady. Juan did so, hid himself, and the horse wandered into the garden of Doña Maria. When the princess saw the horse, she became very angry, and said, “Who is the one who is so bold as to let his horse enter my garden?” She looked all about, but could see no one: so she said to herself, “I will mount this horse and find out who its owner is.” She mounted the horse, which immediately ran to the place where Juan was hiding, and told him to get up on its back. Then the horse carried them swiftly back to the small house of Juan. When he reached home, Juan sent word to the king that the princess Doña Maria was in his home. The king, accompanied by all his retinue, went in great state to Juan’s house, made over to him one-half of his dominion, and took Doña Maria back to his palace.Now, Doña Maria was very beautiful, and the king fell deeply in love with her. When he was alone with her in the palace, he began to court her. He asked her to be his wife; but Doña Maria said, “Only the one who can do what I wish him to do shall be my husband. I will mix one hundredcavansof husked rice with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice (palay). He who in one night can separate the two kinds of rice, and also bring my palace here to your kingdom, shall be married to me.” The king said that no one could accomplish those things; but Doña Maria told him that there was one who could accomplish the tasks, and that was Juan.The king then sent for Juan, and said to him, “Juan, here are one hundredcavansof husked rice mixed with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice. To-night you must separate the grain into two piles, and also transport the palace of Doña Maria to my kingdom. If you have not done both by to-morrow morning, you shall lose your head.” Juan went away very sad toward the mountain. As he was walking along, he met the thin horse which had helped him before. The horse said to him, “Why are you so sad, Juan?” Juan told the horse what the king had ordered him to do. Then the horse said, “Don’t be sad, Juan! you can accomplish both those difficult tasks. Don’t you remember the leg of the ant and the feathers of the eagle which were given to you, and the promise of the ant and eagle?” So Juan took the ant’s leg and the feathers from his pocket, burned them, and threw the ashes into the air. In a short time thousands of birds and ants came to him and asked him what he wanted. Then Juan said, “I want the palace of Doña Maria brought here before daybreak, and the two hundredcavansof mixed rice separated.” When they heard Juan’s order, the birds flew to the mountain to get the palace, and the ants hastened to the king’s grounds to separate the unhusked from the husked rice.By morning both tasks were completed: so Juan was married to Doña Maria, for she would have no other husband.Notes.Although this story is clearly derived from the Tagalog romance of the “Life of King Asuero,” nevertheless it is also told as a folk-tale, and for that reason I have included it in this collection. As has been intimated already so many times, it is often hard to draw the linebetween folk-tales and literary tales, especially when the latter are widely told and read. Since our object in this collection is to present to Occidental readers a comprehensive account of whatisin Philippine popular literature, it has seemed unwise to exclude this story.The full title of the romance is “The Story and Life of King Asuero, Doña Maria, and Juan the Poor, in the City of Jerusalem.” My copy is dated 1905; Retana (No. 4192) mentions an edition between the years 1860 and 1898. In outline the folk-tale differs little from the romance, hence it is unnecessary to give a detailed summary of the printed version. The more important variations might be noted, however. The romance opens thus:—Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.The folk-tale and the romance are practically identical, except that the romance is more detailed, up to the point where the horse leaves Juan to go to entice Doña Maria from her palace and get her in its power.The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....The romance closes with the inevitable war with the Moors, and the rescue of the kingdom from the hands of the Pagans by the invincible Juan.The exact source of this romance I am unable to point to; but without question it is Occidental, I believe.

Juan the Poor.Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, who heard this story from her grandfather.Many years ago there lived a king who was always sad. He used to go to a mountain and climb the highest tree that was growing there. One day when he was in the top of the tree, he saw on another high mountain a beautiful princess, Doña Maria. When he returned home to his palace, he sent a proclamation all over his kingdom, saying that the one who could take Doña Maria from her mountain and bring her before him should have one-half of his kingdom.Juan was a beggar; and it was his custom, whenever he saw a beggar like himself, to share with that beggar the alms which had been given him. One day he saw a wretched old woman, and out of pity for her he gave her all the food he had begged that day. Then the old woman, who knew of the proclamation of the king, said to Juan, “You must tell the king, my boy, that you will fetch Doña Maria for him.” Juan did not want to, because he said that he did not know where and how he might get Doña Maria; but the old woman at last persuaded Juan to go by telling him that she would accompany him, and promising her help. After Juan had visited the palace and told the king that he would bring the princess Doña Maria to him, the poor boy and the old woman set out on their journey to the distant mountain. When they reached the gates of the city, the old woman said to Juan, “Juan, I am very tired, and I cannot go any farther, but I will give you this handkerchief. When you come to the first mountain, you must spread the handkerchief on the ground, and many fat horses will approach you; but I advise you not to choose any of them. You must choose the very last one, which will be lean and weak-looking. That is the horse which can endure hardships, and which will be able to carry you to the princess’s palace.”Juan followed the advice of the old woman, when the timecame, and chose the thin horse. He mounted on its back, and rode on towards the mountain of Doña Maria. When he had ridden very far, he saw before him a hill full of ants. He was afraid to try to pass over this hill, lest the ants should devour him and his animal. The horse said to him, “You must ask the handkerchief for food, and we will feed the ants.” Juan spread out the handkerchief, and asked it to bring him much food. After he had scattered it on the ground for the ants, the leader of the ants approached Juan, and said, “Since you have been very kind to us, I will give you one of my legs; and at any time you want aid from us, you must burn the leg, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to help you.”When Juan had again gone a long distance from the hill, he saw the sky full of birds flying around and looking for food. Again the horse told Juan to ask for food from the handkerchief; so that they might feed the birds, and not be killed by them and eaten. Juan did so, and gave the birds all they wanted to eat. Then the king of the birds, the eagle, flew up to Juan, and said, “To repay you for your kindness, I will give you some feathers from my wings. Any time you want aid from us, just burn some of the feathers, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to you.” Juan thanked the bird, and put the feathers in his pocket where he kept the leg of the ant.Then he continued his journey. When they came near the palace of Doña Maria, the horse told Juan to hide, and said that he alone would enter her garden; but before he should hide, Juan should ask his handkerchief for a complete equipment of saddle and bridle, so that the horse could be mounted by a lady. Juan did so, hid himself, and the horse wandered into the garden of Doña Maria. When the princess saw the horse, she became very angry, and said, “Who is the one who is so bold as to let his horse enter my garden?” She looked all about, but could see no one: so she said to herself, “I will mount this horse and find out who its owner is.” She mounted the horse, which immediately ran to the place where Juan was hiding, and told him to get up on its back. Then the horse carried them swiftly back to the small house of Juan. When he reached home, Juan sent word to the king that the princess Doña Maria was in his home. The king, accompanied by all his retinue, went in great state to Juan’s house, made over to him one-half of his dominion, and took Doña Maria back to his palace.Now, Doña Maria was very beautiful, and the king fell deeply in love with her. When he was alone with her in the palace, he began to court her. He asked her to be his wife; but Doña Maria said, “Only the one who can do what I wish him to do shall be my husband. I will mix one hundredcavansof husked rice with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice (palay). He who in one night can separate the two kinds of rice, and also bring my palace here to your kingdom, shall be married to me.” The king said that no one could accomplish those things; but Doña Maria told him that there was one who could accomplish the tasks, and that was Juan.The king then sent for Juan, and said to him, “Juan, here are one hundredcavansof husked rice mixed with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice. To-night you must separate the grain into two piles, and also transport the palace of Doña Maria to my kingdom. If you have not done both by to-morrow morning, you shall lose your head.” Juan went away very sad toward the mountain. As he was walking along, he met the thin horse which had helped him before. The horse said to him, “Why are you so sad, Juan?” Juan told the horse what the king had ordered him to do. Then the horse said, “Don’t be sad, Juan! you can accomplish both those difficult tasks. Don’t you remember the leg of the ant and the feathers of the eagle which were given to you, and the promise of the ant and eagle?” So Juan took the ant’s leg and the feathers from his pocket, burned them, and threw the ashes into the air. In a short time thousands of birds and ants came to him and asked him what he wanted. Then Juan said, “I want the palace of Doña Maria brought here before daybreak, and the two hundredcavansof mixed rice separated.” When they heard Juan’s order, the birds flew to the mountain to get the palace, and the ants hastened to the king’s grounds to separate the unhusked from the husked rice.By morning both tasks were completed: so Juan was married to Doña Maria, for she would have no other husband.

Narrated by Dolores Zafra, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, who heard this story from her grandfather.

Many years ago there lived a king who was always sad. He used to go to a mountain and climb the highest tree that was growing there. One day when he was in the top of the tree, he saw on another high mountain a beautiful princess, Doña Maria. When he returned home to his palace, he sent a proclamation all over his kingdom, saying that the one who could take Doña Maria from her mountain and bring her before him should have one-half of his kingdom.

Juan was a beggar; and it was his custom, whenever he saw a beggar like himself, to share with that beggar the alms which had been given him. One day he saw a wretched old woman, and out of pity for her he gave her all the food he had begged that day. Then the old woman, who knew of the proclamation of the king, said to Juan, “You must tell the king, my boy, that you will fetch Doña Maria for him.” Juan did not want to, because he said that he did not know where and how he might get Doña Maria; but the old woman at last persuaded Juan to go by telling him that she would accompany him, and promising her help. After Juan had visited the palace and told the king that he would bring the princess Doña Maria to him, the poor boy and the old woman set out on their journey to the distant mountain. When they reached the gates of the city, the old woman said to Juan, “Juan, I am very tired, and I cannot go any farther, but I will give you this handkerchief. When you come to the first mountain, you must spread the handkerchief on the ground, and many fat horses will approach you; but I advise you not to choose any of them. You must choose the very last one, which will be lean and weak-looking. That is the horse which can endure hardships, and which will be able to carry you to the princess’s palace.”

Juan followed the advice of the old woman, when the timecame, and chose the thin horse. He mounted on its back, and rode on towards the mountain of Doña Maria. When he had ridden very far, he saw before him a hill full of ants. He was afraid to try to pass over this hill, lest the ants should devour him and his animal. The horse said to him, “You must ask the handkerchief for food, and we will feed the ants.” Juan spread out the handkerchief, and asked it to bring him much food. After he had scattered it on the ground for the ants, the leader of the ants approached Juan, and said, “Since you have been very kind to us, I will give you one of my legs; and at any time you want aid from us, you must burn the leg, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to help you.”

When Juan had again gone a long distance from the hill, he saw the sky full of birds flying around and looking for food. Again the horse told Juan to ask for food from the handkerchief; so that they might feed the birds, and not be killed by them and eaten. Juan did so, and gave the birds all they wanted to eat. Then the king of the birds, the eagle, flew up to Juan, and said, “To repay you for your kindness, I will give you some feathers from my wings. Any time you want aid from us, just burn some of the feathers, and let the ashes be carried by the wind. Then we will come to you.” Juan thanked the bird, and put the feathers in his pocket where he kept the leg of the ant.

Then he continued his journey. When they came near the palace of Doña Maria, the horse told Juan to hide, and said that he alone would enter her garden; but before he should hide, Juan should ask his handkerchief for a complete equipment of saddle and bridle, so that the horse could be mounted by a lady. Juan did so, hid himself, and the horse wandered into the garden of Doña Maria. When the princess saw the horse, she became very angry, and said, “Who is the one who is so bold as to let his horse enter my garden?” She looked all about, but could see no one: so she said to herself, “I will mount this horse and find out who its owner is.” She mounted the horse, which immediately ran to the place where Juan was hiding, and told him to get up on its back. Then the horse carried them swiftly back to the small house of Juan. When he reached home, Juan sent word to the king that the princess Doña Maria was in his home. The king, accompanied by all his retinue, went in great state to Juan’s house, made over to him one-half of his dominion, and took Doña Maria back to his palace.

Now, Doña Maria was very beautiful, and the king fell deeply in love with her. When he was alone with her in the palace, he began to court her. He asked her to be his wife; but Doña Maria said, “Only the one who can do what I wish him to do shall be my husband. I will mix one hundredcavansof husked rice with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice (palay). He who in one night can separate the two kinds of rice, and also bring my palace here to your kingdom, shall be married to me.” The king said that no one could accomplish those things; but Doña Maria told him that there was one who could accomplish the tasks, and that was Juan.

The king then sent for Juan, and said to him, “Juan, here are one hundredcavansof husked rice mixed with one hundredcavansof unhusked rice. To-night you must separate the grain into two piles, and also transport the palace of Doña Maria to my kingdom. If you have not done both by to-morrow morning, you shall lose your head.” Juan went away very sad toward the mountain. As he was walking along, he met the thin horse which had helped him before. The horse said to him, “Why are you so sad, Juan?” Juan told the horse what the king had ordered him to do. Then the horse said, “Don’t be sad, Juan! you can accomplish both those difficult tasks. Don’t you remember the leg of the ant and the feathers of the eagle which were given to you, and the promise of the ant and eagle?” So Juan took the ant’s leg and the feathers from his pocket, burned them, and threw the ashes into the air. In a short time thousands of birds and ants came to him and asked him what he wanted. Then Juan said, “I want the palace of Doña Maria brought here before daybreak, and the two hundredcavansof mixed rice separated.” When they heard Juan’s order, the birds flew to the mountain to get the palace, and the ants hastened to the king’s grounds to separate the unhusked from the husked rice.

By morning both tasks were completed: so Juan was married to Doña Maria, for she would have no other husband.

Notes.Although this story is clearly derived from the Tagalog romance of the “Life of King Asuero,” nevertheless it is also told as a folk-tale, and for that reason I have included it in this collection. As has been intimated already so many times, it is often hard to draw the linebetween folk-tales and literary tales, especially when the latter are widely told and read. Since our object in this collection is to present to Occidental readers a comprehensive account of whatisin Philippine popular literature, it has seemed unwise to exclude this story.The full title of the romance is “The Story and Life of King Asuero, Doña Maria, and Juan the Poor, in the City of Jerusalem.” My copy is dated 1905; Retana (No. 4192) mentions an edition between the years 1860 and 1898. In outline the folk-tale differs little from the romance, hence it is unnecessary to give a detailed summary of the printed version. The more important variations might be noted, however. The romance opens thus:—Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.The folk-tale and the romance are practically identical, except that the romance is more detailed, up to the point where the horse leaves Juan to go to entice Doña Maria from her palace and get her in its power.The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....The romance closes with the inevitable war with the Moors, and the rescue of the kingdom from the hands of the Pagans by the invincible Juan.The exact source of this romance I am unable to point to; but without question it is Occidental, I believe.

Although this story is clearly derived from the Tagalog romance of the “Life of King Asuero,” nevertheless it is also told as a folk-tale, and for that reason I have included it in this collection. As has been intimated already so many times, it is often hard to draw the linebetween folk-tales and literary tales, especially when the latter are widely told and read. Since our object in this collection is to present to Occidental readers a comprehensive account of whatisin Philippine popular literature, it has seemed unwise to exclude this story.

The full title of the romance is “The Story and Life of King Asuero, Doña Maria, and Juan the Poor, in the City of Jerusalem.” My copy is dated 1905; Retana (No. 4192) mentions an edition between the years 1860 and 1898. In outline the folk-tale differs little from the romance, hence it is unnecessary to give a detailed summary of the printed version. The more important variations might be noted, however. The romance opens thus:—

Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.

Once there lived an old man whose name was Asuero. He was the king of Jerusalem. One night he dreamed that he should be dethroned, and that a poor young countryman would take his place. He awoke and became sad and thoughtful. Unable to go to sleep again, he climbed a tower of his palace, and began to look around with a spy-glass. When he directed his gaze toward a mountain-region beyond the Nile (!), he saw an enchantress who was looking out of her window. She was Doña Maria. He was charmed by her beauty, and became restless. At length he resolved to relate to his council of chiefs what he had seen, and to ask their advice. Many suggestions were made, and many objections. Since the king could not be deterred from his purpose of attempting to get possession of Doña Maria, his chief counsellor proposed an assembly of all the people of the kingdom, where the king’s desire might be made known. At the assembly the king promised money to any one who dared to undertake the adventure, and his appointment as chief counsellor if he were successful.

The folk-tale and the romance are practically identical, except that the romance is more detailed, up to the point where the horse leaves Juan to go to entice Doña Maria from her palace and get her in its power.

The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....

The horse told Juan that it would go with the golden bit and saddle and get Doña Maria, while Juan should hide in a bush near by until they should come back. The horse also told Juan that when it passed by the bush, he should seize its tail and hold on tight. Then the horse left, and after a time came to the garden of Doña Maria. When the maiden saw the animal, she became angry at its owner for letting it into her garden. After looking about for the rider in vain, she claimed the horse, and was about to mount it when the animal spoke to her, and told her to put on a better dress, one which would be more appropriate for the golden saddle. When she returned, she had on a magnificent gown, and wore a magic ring. The horse told her that it had been sent by God to be her faithful steed, and then suggested that she visit the abode of the eagles. She was very anxious to see this wonderful place, and agreed to be taken there. Before they set out, the horse asked her for her magic ring, saying that he would carry it safely for her in his mouth. She surrendered the ring, and the horse carried her to the place where Juan was concealed. Juan seized the tail of the horse, and the animal flew into the air and alighted beyond thesea. Here, by the magic power of the handkerchief, Juan produced food, a table, and two chairs at the request of the horse. Six maids served them. The horse now gave Juan the ring of Doña Maria; and as long as he kept this, he was sure of keeping the maiden. After eating, Doña Maria asked Juan why she had been brought there; but Juan, following the advice of the horse, made no reply. She flattered him and tried to get him to sleep, but he paid no attention to her. At length the horse told them that they must resume their journey. The horse travelled rapidly, and soon reached the royal palace; but the gates were closed, for it was then about midnight. So the riders decided to spend the rest of the night at Juan’s house. There the old mother received them all gladly. When the saddle and bit had been taken from the horse, the animal said that it would return the following morning and carry Juan to the palace. It further warned Juan not to sleep if he valued his life ....

The romance closes with the inevitable war with the Moors, and the rescue of the kingdom from the hands of the Pagans by the invincible Juan.

The exact source of this romance I am unable to point to; but without question it is Occidental, I believe.

The Fate of an Envious Woman.Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. He was told the story by his gardener.There lived once upon a time a young couple of the middle class. The man was a reckless scapegrace and spendthrift; but the woman was a pious, faithful, and virtuous housewife. Juan was the husband’s name; Maria, the wife’s. One of the worst things about Juan was that he spent on another woman the greater part of the money which Maria could with difficulty scrape together. This other woman’s name was Flora. It is true that she surpassed Maria in personal charm, but in real worth Flora was greatly Maria’s inferior. Hence we should not wonder at the fact that Maria soon grew distasteful to her husband, and that after a year of married life he should seek to be entertained by a more beautiful woman. He spent most of his time in listless indolence by the side of Flora, returning home only to get his meals, which Maria prepared with the greatest care. But her efforts were all to no purpose. In vain did Maria array herself in her best clothes, and scent herself with the most delicate perfumes: her face remained pitted with small-pox scars, as before.Years came and passed, and Juan became more and more harsh to his wife. At last Maria sought the aid of St. Vicente Ferrer. She knelt before the image, and asked the saint torescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Her prayers were soon answered. The image became animated. It touched her face several times, and in a few seconds Maria was converted into an extraordinary beauty. Her once rough skin was now smooth and velvety. She then went to the window to await her husband’s return. When he arrived an hour later, he was at first unwilling to come up into the house, for he did not believe that the beautiful woman was his wife; but at last she disclosed her true self to him. A great change now came over Juan. The once despised wife now began to enjoy the caresses of her husband, who pressed her close to his heart.Days elapsed, and Flora began to get uneasy at her home. She wondered why Juan did not come to see her. At length she went to his house. After asking Maria how she had acquired her beauty, Flora decided to try her fortune also. She too knelt before the image of St. Vicente Ferrer. But, alas! instead of becoming as white and as beautiful as the women of a Turkish harem, she became as black and as ugly as the mistress of a Kaffir household. Her once delicate lips became thick and coarse, and her nose became as long as a monkey’s tail. Filled with shame at her appearance, and with a consciousness of her own guilt, she went home, where she pined away and died.The once homely Maria, whose home had rung with laughter by the taunt and ridicule of those who made fun of her ugliness,1now graced her house with sweet smiles and engaging features, which drew scores of visitors to her home. Juan confessed his sins, and underwent penance for his wickedness; and the two lived together in peace and happiness the rest of their lives.Notes.A Visayan variant, “The Two Wives and the Witch,” may be found in JAFL 19 : 105. In the southern version “Juan puts away his first, plain-looking wife, and takes another, handsomer one. The first wife, weeping by a well, is transformed by a witch into a beautiful woman. She wins her husband’s affections back again. The second wife, deserted in turn, weeps by the well, and is transformed by the witch into such a hideous old hag, that, when she looks at herself inthe glass and sees her ugliness, she refuses to eat, and in a few days dies.”In a broad way this story and ours belong to the “Toads and Diamonds” group (see Grimm, No. 13 [“The Three Little Men in the Wood”] and No. 24 [“Mother Holle”]; and Bolte-Polívka’s notes to the two stories). In these groups, however, the two young women are sisters,—one bad, and the other good. About all there is in common between the norm of the “Toads and Diamonds” cycle and our tales is the situation of the plain-looking but faithful, unselfish, good-hearted woman being granted by some supernatural creature wealth and beauty; while the handsome but selfish and wicked woman, envious of her rival’s good luck, becomes loathsome and miserable when she asks a boon from the same supernatural source.The only other member of this group that narrates the story oftwo wivesinstead of two sisters is Lal Behari Day’s No. 22. This Bengal tale, it appears to me, is related both to our stories and to those of the “Mother Holle” group, thus linking ours with the latter also. Following is Cosquin’s summary of Day’s story (2 : 123):—A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.It is unsafe to attempt to trace a story with only three examples as data: but it appears to me not unreasonable to suppose that our Tagalog story is a refined, pious, Christianized modernization of the Visayan form represented by “The Two Wives and the Witch;” and that the Visayan form, in turn, goes back to some Indian or Malayan moral tale of two wives, rivals for the affection of their husband. The Bengali tale can hardly be the direct source of our Visayan form, but it appears to be fairly closely related to that source.1The Filipinos have many mocking children’s rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.

The Fate of an Envious Woman.Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. He was told the story by his gardener.There lived once upon a time a young couple of the middle class. The man was a reckless scapegrace and spendthrift; but the woman was a pious, faithful, and virtuous housewife. Juan was the husband’s name; Maria, the wife’s. One of the worst things about Juan was that he spent on another woman the greater part of the money which Maria could with difficulty scrape together. This other woman’s name was Flora. It is true that she surpassed Maria in personal charm, but in real worth Flora was greatly Maria’s inferior. Hence we should not wonder at the fact that Maria soon grew distasteful to her husband, and that after a year of married life he should seek to be entertained by a more beautiful woman. He spent most of his time in listless indolence by the side of Flora, returning home only to get his meals, which Maria prepared with the greatest care. But her efforts were all to no purpose. In vain did Maria array herself in her best clothes, and scent herself with the most delicate perfumes: her face remained pitted with small-pox scars, as before.Years came and passed, and Juan became more and more harsh to his wife. At last Maria sought the aid of St. Vicente Ferrer. She knelt before the image, and asked the saint torescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Her prayers were soon answered. The image became animated. It touched her face several times, and in a few seconds Maria was converted into an extraordinary beauty. Her once rough skin was now smooth and velvety. She then went to the window to await her husband’s return. When he arrived an hour later, he was at first unwilling to come up into the house, for he did not believe that the beautiful woman was his wife; but at last she disclosed her true self to him. A great change now came over Juan. The once despised wife now began to enjoy the caresses of her husband, who pressed her close to his heart.Days elapsed, and Flora began to get uneasy at her home. She wondered why Juan did not come to see her. At length she went to his house. After asking Maria how she had acquired her beauty, Flora decided to try her fortune also. She too knelt before the image of St. Vicente Ferrer. But, alas! instead of becoming as white and as beautiful as the women of a Turkish harem, she became as black and as ugly as the mistress of a Kaffir household. Her once delicate lips became thick and coarse, and her nose became as long as a monkey’s tail. Filled with shame at her appearance, and with a consciousness of her own guilt, she went home, where she pined away and died.The once homely Maria, whose home had rung with laughter by the taunt and ridicule of those who made fun of her ugliness,1now graced her house with sweet smiles and engaging features, which drew scores of visitors to her home. Juan confessed his sins, and underwent penance for his wickedness; and the two lived together in peace and happiness the rest of their lives.

Narrated by Vicente M. Hilario, a Tagalog from Batangas, Batangas. He was told the story by his gardener.

There lived once upon a time a young couple of the middle class. The man was a reckless scapegrace and spendthrift; but the woman was a pious, faithful, and virtuous housewife. Juan was the husband’s name; Maria, the wife’s. One of the worst things about Juan was that he spent on another woman the greater part of the money which Maria could with difficulty scrape together. This other woman’s name was Flora. It is true that she surpassed Maria in personal charm, but in real worth Flora was greatly Maria’s inferior. Hence we should not wonder at the fact that Maria soon grew distasteful to her husband, and that after a year of married life he should seek to be entertained by a more beautiful woman. He spent most of his time in listless indolence by the side of Flora, returning home only to get his meals, which Maria prepared with the greatest care. But her efforts were all to no purpose. In vain did Maria array herself in her best clothes, and scent herself with the most delicate perfumes: her face remained pitted with small-pox scars, as before.

Years came and passed, and Juan became more and more harsh to his wife. At last Maria sought the aid of St. Vicente Ferrer. She knelt before the image, and asked the saint torescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Her prayers were soon answered. The image became animated. It touched her face several times, and in a few seconds Maria was converted into an extraordinary beauty. Her once rough skin was now smooth and velvety. She then went to the window to await her husband’s return. When he arrived an hour later, he was at first unwilling to come up into the house, for he did not believe that the beautiful woman was his wife; but at last she disclosed her true self to him. A great change now came over Juan. The once despised wife now began to enjoy the caresses of her husband, who pressed her close to his heart.

Days elapsed, and Flora began to get uneasy at her home. She wondered why Juan did not come to see her. At length she went to his house. After asking Maria how she had acquired her beauty, Flora decided to try her fortune also. She too knelt before the image of St. Vicente Ferrer. But, alas! instead of becoming as white and as beautiful as the women of a Turkish harem, she became as black and as ugly as the mistress of a Kaffir household. Her once delicate lips became thick and coarse, and her nose became as long as a monkey’s tail. Filled with shame at her appearance, and with a consciousness of her own guilt, she went home, where she pined away and died.

The once homely Maria, whose home had rung with laughter by the taunt and ridicule of those who made fun of her ugliness,1now graced her house with sweet smiles and engaging features, which drew scores of visitors to her home. Juan confessed his sins, and underwent penance for his wickedness; and the two lived together in peace and happiness the rest of their lives.

Notes.A Visayan variant, “The Two Wives and the Witch,” may be found in JAFL 19 : 105. In the southern version “Juan puts away his first, plain-looking wife, and takes another, handsomer one. The first wife, weeping by a well, is transformed by a witch into a beautiful woman. She wins her husband’s affections back again. The second wife, deserted in turn, weeps by the well, and is transformed by the witch into such a hideous old hag, that, when she looks at herself inthe glass and sees her ugliness, she refuses to eat, and in a few days dies.”In a broad way this story and ours belong to the “Toads and Diamonds” group (see Grimm, No. 13 [“The Three Little Men in the Wood”] and No. 24 [“Mother Holle”]; and Bolte-Polívka’s notes to the two stories). In these groups, however, the two young women are sisters,—one bad, and the other good. About all there is in common between the norm of the “Toads and Diamonds” cycle and our tales is the situation of the plain-looking but faithful, unselfish, good-hearted woman being granted by some supernatural creature wealth and beauty; while the handsome but selfish and wicked woman, envious of her rival’s good luck, becomes loathsome and miserable when she asks a boon from the same supernatural source.The only other member of this group that narrates the story oftwo wivesinstead of two sisters is Lal Behari Day’s No. 22. This Bengal tale, it appears to me, is related both to our stories and to those of the “Mother Holle” group, thus linking ours with the latter also. Following is Cosquin’s summary of Day’s story (2 : 123):—A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.It is unsafe to attempt to trace a story with only three examples as data: but it appears to me not unreasonable to suppose that our Tagalog story is a refined, pious, Christianized modernization of the Visayan form represented by “The Two Wives and the Witch;” and that the Visayan form, in turn, goes back to some Indian or Malayan moral tale of two wives, rivals for the affection of their husband. The Bengali tale can hardly be the direct source of our Visayan form, but it appears to be fairly closely related to that source.

A Visayan variant, “The Two Wives and the Witch,” may be found in JAFL 19 : 105. In the southern version “Juan puts away his first, plain-looking wife, and takes another, handsomer one. The first wife, weeping by a well, is transformed by a witch into a beautiful woman. She wins her husband’s affections back again. The second wife, deserted in turn, weeps by the well, and is transformed by the witch into such a hideous old hag, that, when she looks at herself inthe glass and sees her ugliness, she refuses to eat, and in a few days dies.”

In a broad way this story and ours belong to the “Toads and Diamonds” group (see Grimm, No. 13 [“The Three Little Men in the Wood”] and No. 24 [“Mother Holle”]; and Bolte-Polívka’s notes to the two stories). In these groups, however, the two young women are sisters,—one bad, and the other good. About all there is in common between the norm of the “Toads and Diamonds” cycle and our tales is the situation of the plain-looking but faithful, unselfish, good-hearted woman being granted by some supernatural creature wealth and beauty; while the handsome but selfish and wicked woman, envious of her rival’s good luck, becomes loathsome and miserable when she asks a boon from the same supernatural source.

The only other member of this group that narrates the story oftwo wivesinstead of two sisters is Lal Behari Day’s No. 22. This Bengal tale, it appears to me, is related both to our stories and to those of the “Mother Holle” group, thus linking ours with the latter also. Following is Cosquin’s summary of Day’s story (2 : 123):—

A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.

A man had two wives,—one young, and one old. The latter was treated by the other as if she were a slave. One day her rival, in a fit of anger, snatched from the old woman’s head the one tuft of hair she had, and drove her from the door. The old woman went into the forest. Passing by a cotton-tree, she saw that the ground round about the tree needed sweeping, and she swept it. The tree, much pleased, showered its blessings on her. She did the same thing for other trees—a banana and atulasi—and also for a bull, whose stall she swept out. All blessed her. She arrived next at the hut of a venerablemouni(a kind of ascetic), and she told him of her misery. Themounitold her to go plunge herself once, but only once, in a certain pool. She obeyed, and came up out of the water with the most beautiful hair in the world, and altogether rejuvenated. Themouninext told her to enter his hut and to select from among many willow baskets that which pleased her. The woman took one very simple in appearance. Themounibade her open it: it was filled with gold and precious stones, and was never empty. On her way back home she passed in front of thetulasi. The tree said to her, “Go home in peace! your husband will love you to madness.” Next the bull gave her some shell ornaments which were about its horns, and told her to place them on her wrists: if she would but shake them, she would have all the ornaments she could wish. The banana-tree gave her one of its large leaves, which filled itself of its own accord with excellent dishes. And, last of all, the cotton-tree gave her one of its branches, which would give her, if she shook it, every kind of beautiful garment. When she returned to the house, the other wife could hardly believe her eyes. Having learned of the old woman’s adventures, she too went into the forest: but she passed by the trees and the bull without stopping. And instead of dipping herself only once in the pool, as themounitold her to do, she plunged in a second time, hoping to become even more beautiful; and so she came out of the water as ugly as before. Themounidid not give her any present, either; and thenceforth, disdained by her husband, she finished her life as a servant in his house.

It is unsafe to attempt to trace a story with only three examples as data: but it appears to me not unreasonable to suppose that our Tagalog story is a refined, pious, Christianized modernization of the Visayan form represented by “The Two Wives and the Witch;” and that the Visayan form, in turn, goes back to some Indian or Malayan moral tale of two wives, rivals for the affection of their husband. The Bengali tale can hardly be the direct source of our Visayan form, but it appears to be fairly closely related to that source.

1The Filipinos have many mocking children’s rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.

1The Filipinos have many mocking children’s rhymes making fun of personal deformities, such as pock-marks, cross-eyes, very black skin, etc. They always raise a laugh when recited.

The Monkey and Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the “inhabitants of yesterday;” and that even now many are fond of it.Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called “La Campana” because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died: consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her.One day Juan went to Pit-pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his cornfield. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew backto the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again.For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, “I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.” He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field.The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. “Good-morning, Juan!” said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. “You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,” continued the monkey. “I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.” The waxen statue still stood motionless. “Do you hear me, Juan?” said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. “Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!” he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. “Let my hand loose!” the monkey shouted, “or you will get another present.” Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. “You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I’ll kick you.” He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, “Now I have caught you, you thief!” He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient tofulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. “Good-morning, Master Juan!” he cried. “I see that you are busy.”“Busy indeed!” replied Juan.“Master Juan, do you want to marry the king’s daughter? If you do, I’ll arrange everything for you,” said the monkey.Juan replied, “Yes,” little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true.The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king’s palace, and said, “Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow yourganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him theganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. “My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,” said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure.“Here, monkey, here are your three cents!” said the king. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” answered the monkey, laughing, “my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.” The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself.Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, “Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow yourgantaagain. He wants to finish measuring his money.”The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow theganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.”“My master, Juan,” replied the monkey, “is the richest man in the world.”Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of theganta. “I’ll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,” he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow.As he was walking towards Juan’s farm, the monkey noticedthe four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of theganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. “Good-afternoon, king!” said he, “my master, Juan, returns you yourgantawith a thousand thanks.”“Very well,” replied the king; “but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.”The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, “Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?”“I have not heard of him,” replied the lord, “except from this monkey and yourself.”The king then turned to the monkey, and said, “Monkey, if you don’t tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I’ll hang you.” Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth.Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, “My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi. If you will just look out of your window to-morrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.”The king’s anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. “This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,” he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, “The monkey desires to see you.”The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, “My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.” At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter.“If my master does not call on you to-day, he will surely come to-morrow.” So saying, the monkey left the palace, andran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan.“To-morrow, Juan,” said the monkey, “you will marry the princess. I’ll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.” Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. “What do you think of me?” asked the monkey.Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, “What are you trying to do?”“Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before tomorrow noon,” replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. “I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.”The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, “For mercy’s sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!” They were already trembling with fear.“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!” On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, “Tell us where to hide!”“If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I’ll jump into the well,” said the monkey in a hoarse voice.As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word “well,” they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. “Let me jump first!” said the monkey.“No, let us jump first!” shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going tofollow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. “They are dead,” he said to himself, laughing. “Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!”The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. “This is the very place where my master shall live!” He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: “My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.”Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. “My master is indeed rich,” he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, “Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.”After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, “Throw away your plough. Let’s go to the king’s palace, for to-night you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.”Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, “Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.”But the king replied, “He is rich. If you don’t marry him, I’ll punish you very severely.” The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, “O God! let me die.”When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, “Where is the couple going to live?”“In Don Juan’s palace,” was the reply of the monkey.The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, “Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.” Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. “I wonder who owns these, monkey!” said the king.The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. “Good-evening, king!” they said.“Good-evening!” replied the king. “Whose cattle are these?”“They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,” said the shepherds.The king nodded, and said to himself, “He is truly rich.” The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. “Why, it is not a palace; it is heaven itself,” he said.They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, “I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.” Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church.The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister.This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.Andres the Trapper.Narrated by Domingo Perez of San Carlos, Pangasinan, who heard the story from his grandfather, now dead. The story is popular among the Pangasinanes.Once upon a time there lived in a village a poor widow who had an only son named Andres. They lived in a small hut situated near the Patacbo forest. When Andres was between twelve and thirteen years old, his mother died. From now on he lived alone in his mean little hut, where he had to cook his own food and wash his clothes.One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickensused to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes.One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, “My dear Andres, don’t harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.”Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market.Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio’s house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure.“Who is your master?” said Don Toribio.“Don’t you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,” said the monkey.Don Toribio at once lent theganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned itto the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure.When the monkey handed thegantaback to Don Toribio, the man said, “Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?”“No, sir!” said the monkey, “we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.”“Well,” said Don Toribio, “we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?”“Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till to-morrow,” said the monkey.Don Toribio then brought acavan, which equals about twenty-fivegantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, “Where did you get that box?” The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town.“What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?” said Andres.“I told him that you wanted to count your money,” said the monkey.“Ah, me!” said Andres, “what money are you going to count? Don’t you know that we are very poor?”“Let me manage things, Andres,” said the monkey, “and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.”The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took thecavanwhich he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure.“Good-morning, Don Toribio!” said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house.“Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?” replied the rich man. “Have you come to return the box?”“Yes, sir!” said the monkey, “we have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.” When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, “Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.”“I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,” said Don Toribio to himself.“Perhaps he is even richer than I am.” When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation.On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter.When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio’s daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time.A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.Notes.Two other Philippine variants of the “Puss in Boots” cycle have been printed,—one Visayan, “Masoy and the Ape” (JAFL 20 : 311–314); and the other Tagalog, “Juan and the Monkey” (ibid., 108–109). It would thus appear, not only from the fact of its wide distribution, but also from the testimony of the recorders of the stories, that the tale is fairly well known and popular throughout the Archipelago.The most complete bibliography of this cycle is Bolte-Polívka’s notes on Grimm, No. 33 (a), “Puss in Boots” (Anmerkungen, I : 325–334). See also Köhler’s notes to Gonzenbach, No. 65, “Vom Conte Piro” (2 : 242 f.); Macculloch, ch. VIII (p. 225 f.); W. R. S. Ralston in the “Nineteenth Century” (13 [1883] : 88–104). The oldest known version of the story is Straparola’s (XI, i), which is translated in full by Crane (pp. 348–350). The second oldest is also Italian, by Basile (2 : iv); the third, French, Perrault’s “Le Chat Botté.” In all three the helpful animal is a cat, as it is without exception in the German, Scandinavian, English, and French forms. In the Italian the animal is usually a cat, though the fox takes itsplace in a number of Sicilian tales. In the Greek, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Russian, and in general all East European forms, the helpful animal is regularly the fox, as it is also in the examples collected from Siberia, Kurdestan, Daghestan, and Mongolia. In the four Indian variants known, the animal is a jackal; in the four from the Philippines, a monkey. In a Swahili tale (Steere, p. 13) it is a gazelle. It is not hard to see how, through a process of transmission, jackal, fox, and cat might become interchanged; but where the Philippine monkey, consistently used in all versions, came from, is more difficult to explain; so the Swahili gazelle. I have, however, attempted an explanation below.An examination of the four members of the Philippine group reveals some striking family resemblances: (1) The motive of the monkey’s gratitude is the same in all the stories: the thieving animal is caught in some sort of trap, and promises to serve the hero for life if he will only spare it. The animal is true to its word. (2) In all the stories occurs the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it. (3) In all the versions occurs the marriage of the poor hero with the chief’s daughter, brought about by the ingenious monkey. (4) In three of the versions (all except the Pangasinan) we have as the final episode the destruction of a powerful witch or demon, and the winning of all its fortune by the monkey for the hero. In the Hindoo variants we find that the motive of the jackal’s gratitude agrees with the motive in our versions. In other respects they differ (with the exception of the marriage, which is found in nearly all members of the “Puss in Boots” cycle): the Hindoo tales lack the incidents of the borrowed measure and the destruction of the demon. So far as the opening is concerned, then, our variants and the Indian belong to the same family. The separation, however, must have taken place ages ago; for in India the animal is consistently a jackal, and in the Philippines a monkey. The only other form that I know of in which the animal is a monkey is the Arabian, in the “1001 Nights,” “Aboo Mohammed the Lazy;” but here the helpful ape later turns out to be a malicious demon, who treacherously abducts the hero’s beautiful wife. At last, through the aid of a friendlyjinnee, the hero recovers her, captures the ape, and encloses it forever in a bottle of brass. He then gains possession of all the demon’s enormous wealth. It is difficult to see any immediate connection between the Arabian version and ours.Our two Visayan forms are of particular interest in that they make use of the “Tar Baby” device to catch the monkey. If Joseph Jacobs is correct in tracing this incident to the Buddhist birth-story, the “Pancāvudha-jātaka,” No. 55 (see Indian Fairy Tales, pp. 305 ff.), the Philippines may easily have derived it directly from India alongwith other Buddhistic fables (e.g., “The Monkey and the Crocodile,” No. 56, below). Indeed, Batten’s ingenious explanation that the Brer Rabbit of Negro lore is a reminiscence of an incarnation of Buddha may be applied equally well to the monkey in our Visayan tales, for the monkey is a much more common form for the Bodhisatta than is the hare. In the five hundred and forty-seven Jātakas, Buddha is born as a hare only once; whereas in eleven separate stories he appears as a monkey,—oftener, indeed, than as any other animal (lion, ten times; stag, nine; elephant, seven). This same explanation (viz., that “Puss in Boots” is the Bodhisatta) would account for the gazelle (deer) in the Swahili tale. The extreme cleverness of the Bodhisatta in most of his animal manifestations might easily have suggested the “Puss in Boots” cycle. Another point worth noticing in connection with this theory is the consistent faithfulness of the animal. The ingratitude of the human hero, which is found even in some of the Occidental versions, and the gratitude of the animal, form a favorite Buddhistic contrast. Altogether it appears to me wholly reasonable to derive not only the “Tar Baby” incident, but also the whole “Puss in Boots” cycle, from Buddhistic lore. For the appearance of both in the Philippines we do not need to go to Europe as a source. The “Tar Baby” device to catch a thievingjackalis found in a Santal story, “The Jackal and the Chickens” (Bompas, No. CXII). See also two South African tales in Honeÿ,—“The Story of a Dam” (p. 73), and “Rabbit’s Triumph” (p. 79). For other references, see Dähnhardt, 4 : 26–43 (ch. 2).There is a connection, however, between some of the Occidental versions and three of ours,—the incident of the destruction of the demon. This detail, as I have pointed out, is hinted at in the “1001 Nights” version.1In spite of the fact that it exists in a number of the oldest European literary forms of the story and is not found in modern Indian folk-tales, I believe that this incident is of Oriental origin. In Straparola it has been rationalized, so to speak. A significant version intermediary between the Orient and Occident in this respect, as well as geographically, is the Mongolian tale of “Boroltai Ku” (FLJ 4 : 32 f):—This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.In this story, it will be noticed, the animal’s ruse is the same as ours,—it persuades the rich khan (demons in ours) to hide himself in a pit. There he is subsequently killed.The borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it has already been met with inNo. 20 (c). The incident occurs elsewhere in Filipino drolls. It is curious to find it so consistently a part of the Filipino “Puss in Boots” stories.In conclusion may be noted the fact that in “Andres the Trapper” the monkey’s solicitude over the appearance his master will make at the rich man’s house has a parallel in the jackal’s similar concern in the Santal story:—Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.In Dracott’s story the human hero is a weaver also, as in the Santal. His last exploit has been borrowed from another Indian tale not connected with our group, “Valiant Vicky the Weaver” (Steel-Temple, p. 80; cf. Kingscote, No. IX).1The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The rôle of the ape; the conflict between the good and badjinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator’s statement, “All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!”—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

The Monkey and Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the “inhabitants of yesterday;” and that even now many are fond of it.Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called “La Campana” because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died: consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her.One day Juan went to Pit-pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his cornfield. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew backto the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again.For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, “I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.” He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field.The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. “Good-morning, Juan!” said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. “You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,” continued the monkey. “I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.” The waxen statue still stood motionless. “Do you hear me, Juan?” said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. “Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!” he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. “Let my hand loose!” the monkey shouted, “or you will get another present.” Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. “You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I’ll kick you.” He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, “Now I have caught you, you thief!” He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient tofulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. “Good-morning, Master Juan!” he cried. “I see that you are busy.”“Busy indeed!” replied Juan.“Master Juan, do you want to marry the king’s daughter? If you do, I’ll arrange everything for you,” said the monkey.Juan replied, “Yes,” little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true.The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king’s palace, and said, “Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow yourganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him theganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. “My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,” said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure.“Here, monkey, here are your three cents!” said the king. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” answered the monkey, laughing, “my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.” The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself.Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, “Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow yourgantaagain. He wants to finish measuring his money.”The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow theganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.”“My master, Juan,” replied the monkey, “is the richest man in the world.”Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of theganta. “I’ll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,” he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow.As he was walking towards Juan’s farm, the monkey noticedthe four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of theganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. “Good-afternoon, king!” said he, “my master, Juan, returns you yourgantawith a thousand thanks.”“Very well,” replied the king; “but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.”The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, “Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?”“I have not heard of him,” replied the lord, “except from this monkey and yourself.”The king then turned to the monkey, and said, “Monkey, if you don’t tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I’ll hang you.” Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth.Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, “My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi. If you will just look out of your window to-morrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.”The king’s anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. “This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,” he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, “The monkey desires to see you.”The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, “My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.” At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter.“If my master does not call on you to-day, he will surely come to-morrow.” So saying, the monkey left the palace, andran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan.“To-morrow, Juan,” said the monkey, “you will marry the princess. I’ll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.” Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. “What do you think of me?” asked the monkey.Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, “What are you trying to do?”“Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before tomorrow noon,” replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. “I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.”The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, “For mercy’s sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!” They were already trembling with fear.“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!” On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, “Tell us where to hide!”“If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I’ll jump into the well,” said the monkey in a hoarse voice.As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word “well,” they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. “Let me jump first!” said the monkey.“No, let us jump first!” shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going tofollow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. “They are dead,” he said to himself, laughing. “Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!”The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. “This is the very place where my master shall live!” He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: “My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.”Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. “My master is indeed rich,” he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, “Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.”After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, “Throw away your plough. Let’s go to the king’s palace, for to-night you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.”Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, “Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.”But the king replied, “He is rich. If you don’t marry him, I’ll punish you very severely.” The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, “O God! let me die.”When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, “Where is the couple going to live?”“In Don Juan’s palace,” was the reply of the monkey.The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, “Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.” Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. “I wonder who owns these, monkey!” said the king.The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. “Good-evening, king!” they said.“Good-evening!” replied the king. “Whose cattle are these?”“They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,” said the shepherds.The king nodded, and said to himself, “He is truly rich.” The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. “Why, it is not a palace; it is heaven itself,” he said.They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, “I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.” Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church.The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister.This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.

Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. She says that she has often heard this story; that it was very popular among the “inhabitants of yesterday;” and that even now many are fond of it.

Tiring-tirang was a barrio in the town of Tang-tang, situated at the foot of a hill which was called “La Campana” because of its shape. Around the hill, about a mile from the barrio, flowed the Malogo River, in which the people of the town used to bathe. It so happened that one time an epidemic broke out in the community, killing off all the inhabitants except one couple. This couple had an only son named Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.

When Juan had reached his twelfth year, his father died: consequently the boy had to go to work to earn money for the support of himself and his mother. At first Juan followed the occupation of his father, that of fisherman; but, seeing that he made little money from this, he decided to become a farmer. His mother had now reached the age of seventy (!), and was often sick. Juan frequently had to neglect his farm in order to take care of her.

One day Juan went to Pit-pit to buy medicine for his mother. On his way to the town he saw a flock of crows eating up his corn. He paid no attention to the birds; but on his way back, when he saw these same birds still eating his corn, he became angry. He picked up a stone about the size of his fist, and crept into a bush near by. He had hardly hidden himself when the birds heard a rustling, and began to fly off. Juan jumped up, and hurled his stone with such accuracy and force that one of the crows fell dead to the ground. He tied the dead crow to a bamboo pole, and planted it in the middle of his cornfield. No sooner was he out of sight than the crows flew backto the field again; but when they saw their dead companion, they flew off, and never troubled Juan again.

For six months Juan had no trouble from birds. He did not know, however, that not far from his field there was a monkey (chongo) living in a large tree. This monkey used to come to his field every day and steal two or three ears of corn. One day, as Juan was walking across his field, he saw many dead cornstalks. He said to himself, “I wonder who it is that comes here and steals my corn! I am no longer troubled by birds; and yet I find here many husks.” He went home and made an image of a crooked old man like himself. This he covered with sticky wax. He placed it in the middle of the field.

The next morning, when the sun was shining very brightly, the monkey felt hungry, so he ran towards the field to steal some corn to eat. There he saw the statue. Thinking that it was Juan, he decided to ask permission before he took any corn. “Good-morning, Juan!” said the monkey in a courteous tone; but the image made no reply. “You are too proud to bend your neck, Juan,” continued the monkey. “I have only come to ask you for three or four ears of corn. I have not eaten since yesterday, you know; and if you deny me this request, I shall die before morning.” The waxen statue still stood motionless. “Do you hear me, Juan?” said the monkey impatiently. Still the statue made no reply. “Since you are too proud to answer me, I will soon give you some presents. Look out!” he cried, and with his right paw he slapped the statue which he thought was Juan; but his paw stuck to the wax, and he could not get free. “Let my hand loose!” the monkey shouted, “or you will get another present.” Then he slapped the statue with his left paw, and, as before, stuck fast. “You are foolish, Juan. If you do not let me go this very moment, I’ll kick you.” He did so, first with one foot, and then with the other. At last he could no longer move, and he began to curse the statue. Juan, who had been hiding in a bush near by, now presented himself, and said to the monkey, “Now I have caught you, you thief!” He would have killed the monkey at once, had not the monkey begged for mercy, and promised that he would at some future time repay him for his kindness if he would only spare his life. So Juan set the monkey free.

It was now the month of April. The monkey, impatient tofulfil his word to Juan, went one day to the field, and there he found Juan hard at work. “Good-morning, Master Juan!” he cried. “I see that you are busy.”

“Busy indeed!” replied Juan.

“Master Juan, do you want to marry the king’s daughter? If you do, I’ll arrange everything for you,” said the monkey.

Juan replied, “Yes,” little thinking that what the monkey promised could be true.

The monkey scampered off towards the market. When he entered the market, he saw a boy counting his money. The monkey pretended to be looking in the other direction, but walked towards the boy. When he saw that the money was fairly within his reach, he seized it and ran back to Juan. After telling his master what he had done, the monkey went to the king’s palace, and said, “Sir, my master, Juan, wants to borrow yourganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him theganta. In three days the monkey appeared at the palace again to return the measure, in the bottom of which he stuck three centavos. “My master, Juan, thanks you for your kindness,” said the monkey. The monkey was about to leave the room when the king perceived the three centavos sticking to the bottom of the measure.

“Here, monkey, here are your three cents!” said the king. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!” answered the monkey, laughing, “my master cares not for three cents. He has too much money. He is very, very rich.” The king was much surprised to hear that there was a man richer than himself.

Two weeks later the monkey returned to the palace again, and said, “Pray, king, my master, Juan, desires to borrow yourgantaagain. He wants to finish measuring his money.”

The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow theganta, monkey, but you must tell me first who is this Juan whom you call your master.”

“My master, Juan,” replied the monkey, “is the richest man in the world.”

Before giving the measure to the monkey, the king went to his room and stuck four pieces of gold on the four corners of theganta. “I’ll find out who is the richer, Juan or I,” he said to himself. The monkey took the measure, and left the hall with a polite bow.

As he was walking towards Juan’s farm, the monkey noticedthe four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of theganta. He knew that they had been artfully placed there by the king himself. Two weeks later he went back to the palace to return the measure, not forgetting to stick a gold dollar on each corner. “Good-afternoon, king!” said he, “my master, Juan, returns you yourgantawith a thousand thanks.”

“Very well,” replied the king; “but tell me all about this master of yours who measures his money. I am a king; still I only count my money.”

The monkey remained silent. Not receiving a prompt reply, the king turned to Cabal, one of his lords, and said in a whisper, “Do you know who this Juan is who measures his money?”

“I have not heard of him,” replied the lord, “except from this monkey and yourself.”

The king then turned to the monkey, and said, “Monkey, if you don’t tell me who your master is, where he lives, and all about him, I’ll hang you.” Doubtless the king was jealous of Juan because of his great wealth.

Fearing that he would lose his life, the monkey said to the king, “My master, Juan, the richest and best man in the world, lives in the town of XYZ. He goes to church every morning wearing his striped (tambi-tambi) clothes. This is why he is known among his people as Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi. If you will just look out of your window to-morrow morning, you will see him pass by your garden.”

The king’s anger was appeased by this explanation. Early the next morning he was at his window, anxious to get a glimpse of Juan. He had not been there long when his attention was attracted by the appearance of a crooked man dressed in striped clothes. “This must be the man whom the monkey described to me yesterday,” he said to himself. Soon his servant entered the room, and said, “The monkey desires to see you.”

The king left the window and went to where the monkey was waiting for him. As soon as the monkey saw the king, he bowed politely, and said, “My master, Juan, sends me to tell you frankly that he loves your daughter, and that, if it pleases you, he will marry her.” At first the king was angry to hear these words; but, being very desirous to get more money, he at last consented without even asking his daughter.

“If my master does not call on you to-day, he will surely come to-morrow.” So saying, the monkey left the palace, andran about town, trying to think of some way he might escape the great danger he was in. It so happened that an old man who was carrying a bundle of clothes to his son in the mountains passed along the same road where the monkey was. The sun was very hot, so the old man decided to rest under a leafy tree. No sooner was he seated there than the cunning monkey climbed the tree, and shook the branches with such force that twigs and fruits fell all around the old man. Panic-stricken, he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him, leaving everything behind him. When the man was out of sight, the monkey climbed down the tree, picked up the bundle of clothes, and carried it to Juan.

“To-morrow, Juan,” said the monkey, “you will marry the princess. I’ll arrange everything for you if you will only follow my advice.” Half doubting and half believing, Juan asked the monkey if he really meant what he said. “What do you think of me?” asked the monkey.

Without waiting for a reply from Juan, the monkey left the hut, and ran towards the home of the Burincantadas who lived on the summit of the hill. As soon as he entered the gate, he began to scoop up the ground as fast as he could. The Burincantadas, who at that very moment were looking out of the window, saw the monkey. They rushed downstairs, and, half frightened, said to him, “What are you trying to do?”

“Why, our king has been defeated in the war. The enemies have already taken possession of the crown. The princess is dead, and it is said that everybody will be killed before tomorrow noon,” replied the monkey, his teeth chattering. “I am resolved to hide myself under the ground to save my life.”

The three Burincantadas seized him by the arm, and said, “For mercy’s sake, have pity on us! Tell us where we can hide!” They were already trembling with fear.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! let me loose! The enemy are coming!” On hearing these words, the Burincantadas all shouted at once, “Tell us where to hide!”

“If you will not let me scoop out a hole here, I’ll jump into the well,” said the monkey in a hoarse voice.

As soon as the Burincantadas heard the word “well,” they all ran as fast as they could, following the monkey. “Let me jump first!” said the monkey.

“No, let us jump first!” shouted the Burincantadas; and so they did. The monkey made a motion as if he were going tofollow; but, instead, he lifted up the biggest stone he could find and threw it down the well. “They are dead,” he said to himself, laughing. “Ah, I have caught you! Ha, ha!”

The Burincantadas now being dead, the monkey was at leisure to decide what to do next. He entered their palace, and there he found everything magnificent. “This is the very place where my master shall live!” He opened the first room, but there he found nothing but bones. He closed the door and opened the second, where he found many prisoners who were waiting to be eaten. He set them all free, and told them to clean up the palace at once. The prisoners set to work, not forgetting to thank the monkey for his kindness. Before he left the palace, he addressed the crowd as follows: “My brothers and sisters, if any one comes and asks you who your master is, tell him that he is Don Juan Pusong Tambi-tambi.”

Then he left the crowd of people busy cleaning the palace, and went to the farm, where he found thousands of horses, cows, and sheep. “My master is indeed rich,” he said to himself. He called the shepherd who was lying under the tree, and said to him, “Tell your other companions that, if any one comes and asks whose animals these are, they must answer that they all belong to Don Juan Pusong. Don Juan is your master now.”

After seeing that everything was in order, the monkey hastened to his master, who was still ploughing, and said, “Throw away your plough. Let’s go to the king’s palace, for to-night you will be married to the princess Doña Elena.”

Night came. The palace was splendidly adorned. The princess was sitting by her father, when Don Juan, dressed in his striped clothes and accompanied by the monkey, entered the gate of the palace. Soon the priest came, and the princess was called to the reception-hall. When she saw her bridegroom, she ran away in despair, and cried to her father, “Father, how dare you accept as my husband such a base, dirty, crooked man! Look at him! Why, he is the meanest of the mean.”

But the king replied, “He is rich. If you don’t marry him, I’ll punish you very severely.” The princess had to obey her father; but, before giving her hand to Juan Pusong, she said, “O God! let me die.”

When the marriage ceremony was over, the king called the monkey, and asked, “Where is the couple going to live?”

“In Don Juan’s palace,” was the reply of the monkey.

The king immediately ordered carriages to be gotten ready. Then they started on their journey. Four hours passed, and still no palace was to be seen. The king became impatient, and said to the monkey, “Monkey, if what you have said to me is not true, your head shall answer for your lie.” Hardly had he said these words when he beheld before him a number of men watching a herd of cattle. “I wonder who owns these, monkey!” said the king.

The monkey made some signs, and soon three shepherds came running up to them. “Good-evening, king!” they said.

“Good-evening!” replied the king. “Whose cattle are these?”

“They are all owned by Don Juan Pusong,” said the shepherds.

The king nodded, and said to himself, “He is truly rich.” The palace was now in sight. The king could hardly express his joy on seeing such a magnificent building. “Why, it is not a palace; it is heaven itself,” he said.

They were now upstairs. The king, on seeing still more beauties, said, “I confess, I am not the richest man on earth.” Soon he died of joy, and his body was placed in a golden coffin and buried in the church.

The couple inherited his dominion; but Queen Elena could not endure her ugly husband, and two weeks later she died broken-hearted. So Juan was left as sole ruler of two kingdoms. The monkey became his chief minister.

This story shows that a compassionate man oftentimes gets his reward.

Andres the Trapper.Narrated by Domingo Perez of San Carlos, Pangasinan, who heard the story from his grandfather, now dead. The story is popular among the Pangasinanes.Once upon a time there lived in a village a poor widow who had an only son named Andres. They lived in a small hut situated near the Patacbo forest. When Andres was between twelve and thirteen years old, his mother died. From now on he lived alone in his mean little hut, where he had to cook his own food and wash his clothes.One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickensused to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes.One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, “My dear Andres, don’t harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.”Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market.Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio’s house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure.“Who is your master?” said Don Toribio.“Don’t you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,” said the monkey.Don Toribio at once lent theganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned itto the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure.When the monkey handed thegantaback to Don Toribio, the man said, “Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?”“No, sir!” said the monkey, “we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.”“Well,” said Don Toribio, “we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?”“Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till to-morrow,” said the monkey.Don Toribio then brought acavan, which equals about twenty-fivegantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, “Where did you get that box?” The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town.“What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?” said Andres.“I told him that you wanted to count your money,” said the monkey.“Ah, me!” said Andres, “what money are you going to count? Don’t you know that we are very poor?”“Let me manage things, Andres,” said the monkey, “and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.”The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took thecavanwhich he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure.“Good-morning, Don Toribio!” said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house.“Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?” replied the rich man. “Have you come to return the box?”“Yes, sir!” said the monkey, “we have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.” When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, “Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.”“I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,” said Don Toribio to himself.“Perhaps he is even richer than I am.” When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation.On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter.When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio’s daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time.A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.

Narrated by Domingo Perez of San Carlos, Pangasinan, who heard the story from his grandfather, now dead. The story is popular among the Pangasinanes.

Once upon a time there lived in a village a poor widow who had an only son named Andres. They lived in a small hut situated near the Patacbo forest. When Andres was between twelve and thirteen years old, his mother died. From now on he lived alone in his mean little hut, where he had to cook his own food and wash his clothes.

One morning some boys invited Andres to go to the woods with them to trap. When they got to the forest, his companions set their traps in the places where the wild chickensused to feed. Then they went home. In the afternoon they returned to the woods, where they found that each trap had caught a wild cock. Now Andres became envious of his companions: so when he reached home, he took his knife and made two traps of his own. After he had finished them, he ran to the forest and set them. Early the next morning he went to the woods to see if he had caught anything. There he found two wild cocks snared. He took them home, sold one, and ate the other for his dinner. When he had finished eating, he made many traps, which he set up that afternoon. From now on he made his living by trapping, often catching as many as fifteen birds in a day. From the money he earned he was able to feed himself and buy clothes.

One day, after Andres had been a trapper for many years, he went to the forest, as usual, to see what he had caught. He found that his traps had been moved, and that in one of them was a big monkey caught by the leg. As Andres was about to kill the monkey with a big stick which he picked up, the animal said to him, “My dear Andres, don’t harm me! and I will be your helper by and by.”

Andres was much astonished to hear the monkey talk. He was moved to pity, and set the animal free. When he started toward his home, the monkey followed him. From now on they lived together. Soon the monkey learned how to sell wild chickens in the market.

Now, in that town there lived a very rich man by the name of Toribio, who had a daughter named Aning. The people considered Aning the most beautiful lady in the province. However, none of the young men of the town courted Aning, for they felt unworthy and ashamed to woo the richest and most beautiful girl. One fine day the monkey went to town and sold wild chickens, as usual. On his way home he stopped at Don Toribio’s house. Don Toribio asked what he wanted, and the monkey said that his master had sent him to borrow their money-measure.

“Who is your master?” said Don Toribio.

“Don’t you know? Don Andres, a very rich, handsome young gentleman who lives in the valley of Obong,” said the monkey.

Don Toribio at once lent theganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned itto the owner the next morning, he put a peso, a fifty-centavo piece, a peseta, and a media-peseta in the cracks of the measure.

When the monkey handed thegantaback to Don Toribio, the man said, “Why do you return it? Has your master finished measuring his money?”

“No, sir!” said the monkey, “we have not finished; but this box is too small, and it takes us too long to measure with it.”

“Well,” said Don Toribio, “we have a bigger one than that; do you want to borrow it?”

“Yes, I do, if you will let me keep it till to-morrow,” said the monkey.

Don Toribio then brought acavan, which equals about twenty-fivegantas. When the monkey reached home carrying the large measure, Andres said to him, “Where did you get that box?” The monkey said that it had been lent to him by the richest man in the town.

“What did you tell the man that you were going to do with it?” said Andres.

“I told him that you wanted to count your money,” said the monkey.

“Ah, me!” said Andres, “what money are you going to count? Don’t you know that we are very poor?”

“Let me manage things, Andres,” said the monkey, “and I promise you that you shall marry the beautiful daughter of the rich man.”

The following day Andres caught many wild chickens. When the monkey had sold them all in the market, he went back to their hut, and took thecavanwhich he had borrowed. Before returning it to Don Toribio, he stuck money in the cracks, as he had done to the first measure.

“Good-morning, Don Toribio!” said the monkey. Don Toribio was sitting in a chair by the door of his house.

“Good-morning, monkey! How do you do?” replied the rich man. “Have you come to return the box?”

“Yes, sir!” said the monkey, “we have finished. My master sends his thanks to you.” When Don Toribio took the box and saw the money inside, he told the monkey about it; but the monkey said, “Never mind! we have plenty more in our house.”

“I am the richest man in town, yet I cannot throw money away like the master of this fellow,” said Don Toribio to himself.“Perhaps he is even richer than I am.” When the monkey was about to take his leave, the rich man told him to tell his master to come there on the third day. The monkey said that he would, and thanked Don Toribio for the invitation.

On his way home, the monkey stopped at the market to buy a pair of shoes, some ready-made clothes, and a hat for Andres. He took these things home to his master, and in three days had taught Andres how to walk easily with shoes on, how to speak elegantly, how to eat with a spoon and fork and knife, and how to tell Don Toribio that he wanted to marry his daughter.

When the time came, Andres and the monkey set out for the town. They were welcomed by Don Toribio and his daughter Aning. After a short talk, Andres spoke of his purpose in coming there. He said that he wanted to marry Don Toribio’s daughter. Don Toribio gladly accepted the offer, and said that the wedding would be held the next morning. Hasty preparations were made for the ceremony. In the morning a priest came, and Andres and Aning were married. Many guests were present, and everybody had a good time.

A few years later Don Toribio died, and Andres inherited all his wealth. He then became a very rich man.

Notes.Two other Philippine variants of the “Puss in Boots” cycle have been printed,—one Visayan, “Masoy and the Ape” (JAFL 20 : 311–314); and the other Tagalog, “Juan and the Monkey” (ibid., 108–109). It would thus appear, not only from the fact of its wide distribution, but also from the testimony of the recorders of the stories, that the tale is fairly well known and popular throughout the Archipelago.The most complete bibliography of this cycle is Bolte-Polívka’s notes on Grimm, No. 33 (a), “Puss in Boots” (Anmerkungen, I : 325–334). See also Köhler’s notes to Gonzenbach, No. 65, “Vom Conte Piro” (2 : 242 f.); Macculloch, ch. VIII (p. 225 f.); W. R. S. Ralston in the “Nineteenth Century” (13 [1883] : 88–104). The oldest known version of the story is Straparola’s (XI, i), which is translated in full by Crane (pp. 348–350). The second oldest is also Italian, by Basile (2 : iv); the third, French, Perrault’s “Le Chat Botté.” In all three the helpful animal is a cat, as it is without exception in the German, Scandinavian, English, and French forms. In the Italian the animal is usually a cat, though the fox takes itsplace in a number of Sicilian tales. In the Greek, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Russian, and in general all East European forms, the helpful animal is regularly the fox, as it is also in the examples collected from Siberia, Kurdestan, Daghestan, and Mongolia. In the four Indian variants known, the animal is a jackal; in the four from the Philippines, a monkey. In a Swahili tale (Steere, p. 13) it is a gazelle. It is not hard to see how, through a process of transmission, jackal, fox, and cat might become interchanged; but where the Philippine monkey, consistently used in all versions, came from, is more difficult to explain; so the Swahili gazelle. I have, however, attempted an explanation below.An examination of the four members of the Philippine group reveals some striking family resemblances: (1) The motive of the monkey’s gratitude is the same in all the stories: the thieving animal is caught in some sort of trap, and promises to serve the hero for life if he will only spare it. The animal is true to its word. (2) In all the stories occurs the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it. (3) In all the versions occurs the marriage of the poor hero with the chief’s daughter, brought about by the ingenious monkey. (4) In three of the versions (all except the Pangasinan) we have as the final episode the destruction of a powerful witch or demon, and the winning of all its fortune by the monkey for the hero. In the Hindoo variants we find that the motive of the jackal’s gratitude agrees with the motive in our versions. In other respects they differ (with the exception of the marriage, which is found in nearly all members of the “Puss in Boots” cycle): the Hindoo tales lack the incidents of the borrowed measure and the destruction of the demon. So far as the opening is concerned, then, our variants and the Indian belong to the same family. The separation, however, must have taken place ages ago; for in India the animal is consistently a jackal, and in the Philippines a monkey. The only other form that I know of in which the animal is a monkey is the Arabian, in the “1001 Nights,” “Aboo Mohammed the Lazy;” but here the helpful ape later turns out to be a malicious demon, who treacherously abducts the hero’s beautiful wife. At last, through the aid of a friendlyjinnee, the hero recovers her, captures the ape, and encloses it forever in a bottle of brass. He then gains possession of all the demon’s enormous wealth. It is difficult to see any immediate connection between the Arabian version and ours.Our two Visayan forms are of particular interest in that they make use of the “Tar Baby” device to catch the monkey. If Joseph Jacobs is correct in tracing this incident to the Buddhist birth-story, the “Pancāvudha-jātaka,” No. 55 (see Indian Fairy Tales, pp. 305 ff.), the Philippines may easily have derived it directly from India alongwith other Buddhistic fables (e.g., “The Monkey and the Crocodile,” No. 56, below). Indeed, Batten’s ingenious explanation that the Brer Rabbit of Negro lore is a reminiscence of an incarnation of Buddha may be applied equally well to the monkey in our Visayan tales, for the monkey is a much more common form for the Bodhisatta than is the hare. In the five hundred and forty-seven Jātakas, Buddha is born as a hare only once; whereas in eleven separate stories he appears as a monkey,—oftener, indeed, than as any other animal (lion, ten times; stag, nine; elephant, seven). This same explanation (viz., that “Puss in Boots” is the Bodhisatta) would account for the gazelle (deer) in the Swahili tale. The extreme cleverness of the Bodhisatta in most of his animal manifestations might easily have suggested the “Puss in Boots” cycle. Another point worth noticing in connection with this theory is the consistent faithfulness of the animal. The ingratitude of the human hero, which is found even in some of the Occidental versions, and the gratitude of the animal, form a favorite Buddhistic contrast. Altogether it appears to me wholly reasonable to derive not only the “Tar Baby” incident, but also the whole “Puss in Boots” cycle, from Buddhistic lore. For the appearance of both in the Philippines we do not need to go to Europe as a source. The “Tar Baby” device to catch a thievingjackalis found in a Santal story, “The Jackal and the Chickens” (Bompas, No. CXII). See also two South African tales in Honeÿ,—“The Story of a Dam” (p. 73), and “Rabbit’s Triumph” (p. 79). For other references, see Dähnhardt, 4 : 26–43 (ch. 2).There is a connection, however, between some of the Occidental versions and three of ours,—the incident of the destruction of the demon. This detail, as I have pointed out, is hinted at in the “1001 Nights” version.1In spite of the fact that it exists in a number of the oldest European literary forms of the story and is not found in modern Indian folk-tales, I believe that this incident is of Oriental origin. In Straparola it has been rationalized, so to speak. A significant version intermediary between the Orient and Occident in this respect, as well as geographically, is the Mongolian tale of “Boroltai Ku” (FLJ 4 : 32 f):—This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.In this story, it will be noticed, the animal’s ruse is the same as ours,—it persuades the rich khan (demons in ours) to hide himself in a pit. There he is subsequently killed.The borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it has already been met with inNo. 20 (c). The incident occurs elsewhere in Filipino drolls. It is curious to find it so consistently a part of the Filipino “Puss in Boots” stories.In conclusion may be noted the fact that in “Andres the Trapper” the monkey’s solicitude over the appearance his master will make at the rich man’s house has a parallel in the jackal’s similar concern in the Santal story:—Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.In Dracott’s story the human hero is a weaver also, as in the Santal. His last exploit has been borrowed from another Indian tale not connected with our group, “Valiant Vicky the Weaver” (Steel-Temple, p. 80; cf. Kingscote, No. IX).

Two other Philippine variants of the “Puss in Boots” cycle have been printed,—one Visayan, “Masoy and the Ape” (JAFL 20 : 311–314); and the other Tagalog, “Juan and the Monkey” (ibid., 108–109). It would thus appear, not only from the fact of its wide distribution, but also from the testimony of the recorders of the stories, that the tale is fairly well known and popular throughout the Archipelago.

The most complete bibliography of this cycle is Bolte-Polívka’s notes on Grimm, No. 33 (a), “Puss in Boots” (Anmerkungen, I : 325–334). See also Köhler’s notes to Gonzenbach, No. 65, “Vom Conte Piro” (2 : 242 f.); Macculloch, ch. VIII (p. 225 f.); W. R. S. Ralston in the “Nineteenth Century” (13 [1883] : 88–104). The oldest known version of the story is Straparola’s (XI, i), which is translated in full by Crane (pp. 348–350). The second oldest is also Italian, by Basile (2 : iv); the third, French, Perrault’s “Le Chat Botté.” In all three the helpful animal is a cat, as it is without exception in the German, Scandinavian, English, and French forms. In the Italian the animal is usually a cat, though the fox takes itsplace in a number of Sicilian tales. In the Greek, Roumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian, Russian, and in general all East European forms, the helpful animal is regularly the fox, as it is also in the examples collected from Siberia, Kurdestan, Daghestan, and Mongolia. In the four Indian variants known, the animal is a jackal; in the four from the Philippines, a monkey. In a Swahili tale (Steere, p. 13) it is a gazelle. It is not hard to see how, through a process of transmission, jackal, fox, and cat might become interchanged; but where the Philippine monkey, consistently used in all versions, came from, is more difficult to explain; so the Swahili gazelle. I have, however, attempted an explanation below.

An examination of the four members of the Philippine group reveals some striking family resemblances: (1) The motive of the monkey’s gratitude is the same in all the stories: the thieving animal is caught in some sort of trap, and promises to serve the hero for life if he will only spare it. The animal is true to its word. (2) In all the stories occurs the incident of the borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it. (3) In all the versions occurs the marriage of the poor hero with the chief’s daughter, brought about by the ingenious monkey. (4) In three of the versions (all except the Pangasinan) we have as the final episode the destruction of a powerful witch or demon, and the winning of all its fortune by the monkey for the hero. In the Hindoo variants we find that the motive of the jackal’s gratitude agrees with the motive in our versions. In other respects they differ (with the exception of the marriage, which is found in nearly all members of the “Puss in Boots” cycle): the Hindoo tales lack the incidents of the borrowed measure and the destruction of the demon. So far as the opening is concerned, then, our variants and the Indian belong to the same family. The separation, however, must have taken place ages ago; for in India the animal is consistently a jackal, and in the Philippines a monkey. The only other form that I know of in which the animal is a monkey is the Arabian, in the “1001 Nights,” “Aboo Mohammed the Lazy;” but here the helpful ape later turns out to be a malicious demon, who treacherously abducts the hero’s beautiful wife. At last, through the aid of a friendlyjinnee, the hero recovers her, captures the ape, and encloses it forever in a bottle of brass. He then gains possession of all the demon’s enormous wealth. It is difficult to see any immediate connection between the Arabian version and ours.

Our two Visayan forms are of particular interest in that they make use of the “Tar Baby” device to catch the monkey. If Joseph Jacobs is correct in tracing this incident to the Buddhist birth-story, the “Pancāvudha-jātaka,” No. 55 (see Indian Fairy Tales, pp. 305 ff.), the Philippines may easily have derived it directly from India alongwith other Buddhistic fables (e.g., “The Monkey and the Crocodile,” No. 56, below). Indeed, Batten’s ingenious explanation that the Brer Rabbit of Negro lore is a reminiscence of an incarnation of Buddha may be applied equally well to the monkey in our Visayan tales, for the monkey is a much more common form for the Bodhisatta than is the hare. In the five hundred and forty-seven Jātakas, Buddha is born as a hare only once; whereas in eleven separate stories he appears as a monkey,—oftener, indeed, than as any other animal (lion, ten times; stag, nine; elephant, seven). This same explanation (viz., that “Puss in Boots” is the Bodhisatta) would account for the gazelle (deer) in the Swahili tale. The extreme cleverness of the Bodhisatta in most of his animal manifestations might easily have suggested the “Puss in Boots” cycle. Another point worth noticing in connection with this theory is the consistent faithfulness of the animal. The ingratitude of the human hero, which is found even in some of the Occidental versions, and the gratitude of the animal, form a favorite Buddhistic contrast. Altogether it appears to me wholly reasonable to derive not only the “Tar Baby” incident, but also the whole “Puss in Boots” cycle, from Buddhistic lore. For the appearance of both in the Philippines we do not need to go to Europe as a source. The “Tar Baby” device to catch a thievingjackalis found in a Santal story, “The Jackal and the Chickens” (Bompas, No. CXII). See also two South African tales in Honeÿ,—“The Story of a Dam” (p. 73), and “Rabbit’s Triumph” (p. 79). For other references, see Dähnhardt, 4 : 26–43 (ch. 2).

There is a connection, however, between some of the Occidental versions and three of ours,—the incident of the destruction of the demon. This detail, as I have pointed out, is hinted at in the “1001 Nights” version.1In spite of the fact that it exists in a number of the oldest European literary forms of the story and is not found in modern Indian folk-tales, I believe that this incident is of Oriental origin. In Straparola it has been rationalized, so to speak. A significant version intermediary between the Orient and Occident in this respect, as well as geographically, is the Mongolian tale of “Boroltai Ku” (FLJ 4 : 32 f):—

This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.

This story has the Oriental opening: the animal is a fox, which the hero digs out of its hole and spares. Through its cleverness the fox brings about the marriage of Boroltai Ku, the man who spared its life, with the daughter of Gurbushtên Khan. After the wedding the khan sends the newcouple back to their home, and with them an official attendant. On the return journey the fox runs on ahead, and requests every herdsman it meets to say, if he is asked whose cattle he is tending, “It is the cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan.” At last the fox comes to the tent of Khan Manguis, and groans. “What’s the matter?” says the khan. “A storm is coming,” says the fox. “That is a misfortune for me too,” says the khan. “How so? You can order a hole ten fathoms deep to be dug, and can hide in it,” says the fox. So done. Boroltai Ku and his party now appear, and he occupies the khan’s tent as if it were his own. The fox assures the official attendant that the tent is Boroltai Ku’s, but that it has one defect. “What is that?”—“Under the tent lives a demon. Won’t you bring down lightning to slay him?” The attendant brings down lightning and slays Khan Manguis, who is sitting in the hole. Boroltai Ku becomes khan, and takes all the possessions, cattle, and people of Khan Manguis, and goes to live near his father-in-law.

In this story, it will be noticed, the animal’s ruse is the same as ours,—it persuades the rich khan (demons in ours) to hide himself in a pit. There he is subsequently killed.

The borrowed measure returned with coins sticking to it has already been met with inNo. 20 (c). The incident occurs elsewhere in Filipino drolls. It is curious to find it so consistently a part of the Filipino “Puss in Boots” stories.

In conclusion may be noted the fact that in “Andres the Trapper” the monkey’s solicitude over the appearance his master will make at the rich man’s house has a parallel in the jackal’s similar concern in the Santal story:—

Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.

Before the wedding-feast, the jackal gave Jogeswhar some hints as to his behavior. He warned him that three or four kinds of meats and vegetables would be handed round with the rice, and bade him to be sure to help himself from each dish; and when betel-nut was handed to him after the feast, he was not to take any until he had a handful of money given him; by such behavior he would lead every one to think he was really a prince.—BOMPAS, p. 175.

In Dracott’s story the human hero is a weaver also, as in the Santal. His last exploit has been borrowed from another Indian tale not connected with our group, “Valiant Vicky the Weaver” (Steel-Temple, p. 80; cf. Kingscote, No. IX).

1The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The rôle of the ape; the conflict between the good and badjinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator’s statement, “All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!”—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

1The Arabian story, I believe, is well worth study in connection with the theory of the Buddhistic origin of this cycle. The rôle of the ape; the conflict between the good and badjinn, the ape belonging with the latter group; and the narrator’s statement, “All this I have received from the bounty of God, whose name be exalted!”—suggest at the base of this version the struggle between Buddhism and Mohammedanism; with Mohammedanism triumphant, of course.

Back to IndexNext