Poor Peter [Folk Tales Of Flanders]
There
was once a man named Jaco Peter who was so poor that he had not two sous to rub
together. His clothes were rags, his boots were shocking, and as for his house,
it was nothing but a miserable hovel hardly fit for a dog. The only friend poor
Peter had in the world was a big fox who was called Reynard the Red because of
the colour of his hide.
One day as Poor Peter
was walking along the road looking out for stray scraps of food which he could
pick up for his dinner, whom should he meet but Reynard, who was going off to
spy round a farmhouse where, he had been told, there were some fine fat
chickens.
“How now, Peter,”
said Reynard, “you look very miserable to-day! What is the matter?”
“I have fallen on bad
luck,” answered Peter gloomily. “I have found nothing to-day but two
cabbage-stalks and a half-gnawed bone, and to make matters worse, the bone has
no marrow in it.”
“Why do you eat such
stuff?” asked Reynard disgustedly. “Look at me—I am just as poor as you, yet I
live on the fat of the land! And how do I do it, Peter? Why, by using my wits!
Cheer up, my friend, you shall be a man of fortune yet, for I’ll take your case
in hand myself!”
Reynard was as good
as his word. The same day he called at the King’s palace and asked if he might
borrow a bushel measure. Such an unusual request from a fox caused some
amazement and the matter was brought to the notice of the King himself, who
sent for Reynard and asked him what he wanted with such a thing.
“The fact is,”
answered Reynard, “that a friend of mine, a certain Lord Jaco Peter, has come
by a good deal of money, and he wishes to measure it.”
“Very well,” said the
King, “you may take the measure, but I would like to have it back when you have
done with it, if you do not mind.”
Off went Reynard with
the bushel basket, and the same night, having stuck a couple of sous to the
bottom of it with a bit of grease, he sent it back with a message to say that
it was not large enough, and might he have another? In reply, the King sent a
two-bushel measure, and after a time Reynard sent this back also, with a
request for a larger one still. “If I have to measure the money with a thing
like this,” said he, “I shall be a month over the task.”
“That friend of yours
must be an enormously wealthy man,” said the King. “Let me see—what did you say
his name was? Lord Jaco Peter? I do not seem to remember a lord of that name in
my dominions!”
“He is a foreign
noble,” said Reynard glibly, “who has only lately arrived in this country. He
will shortly be coming to pay his respects to your Majesty, for it is his
intention to ask for the hand of the Princess, your daughter, in marriage.”
“That is a thing one must consider,” replied the King, “but in the meantime I will gladly give your noble friend an audience.”
Away went Reynard in high feather and recounted to Poor Peter all that had happened. “The affair is as good as finished,” said he, “you shall marry the Princess and sit at the King’s right hand!”
Peter looked down at his clothes, which indeed, were too well ventilated to be quite seemly, and made a grimace. “A fine lord I shall look!” said he, “with my toes sticking out of my boots and holes in my breeches.”
“Never mind about that,” Reynard answered. “Just leave everything to me, and all be well.”
The next day, when
the time came for the pair to set out for the palace, Reynard said to his
friend: “Now pay great attention to what I have to say. Close by the King’s
palace there is a big muddy puddle in the middle of the road. When you come to
that puddle I want you to trip over yourself and fall plump into it. Don’t let
there be any half measures! Get right into the mud—wallow in it, and smear
yourself from head to foot!”
“But why … ?” asked
Peter.
“Never mind about
why. Do as I tell you!”
Poor Peter carried
out his directions to the letter. When they reached the puddle he pretended to
slip, and fell souse into it, covering himself with a thick layer of mud. At
sight of the disaster Reynard began to cry out in dismay, and the guards at the
King’s palace, who had seen the accident, came running up to offer their aid.
“Did you fall down?”
asked one of them politely. Peter was wiping the mud out of his mouth and could
not answer, but the fox cried: “Of course he has fallen down, oaf! Do you think
he sat in the puddle for amusement. Don’t stand gaping there, but run to the
palace quickly, and borrow a change of clothes, for this is Lord Jaco Peter who
is on his way to visit the King. And look you,” he added, as the guards ran
off, “see that you bring some robes worthy of my lord’s great estate, or it
will be the worse for you!”
Away went the guards, and told the King’s
Chamberlain about the catastrophe. A few minutes later they returned bearing
with them a magnificent robe of cloth-of-gold, beautifully embroidered and sewn
with precious stones. Then they led Peter to a chamber, where he bathed himself
and donned his new finery. Unfortunately the Chamberlain had forgotten to send
any shoes, so there was Peter with his toes sticking out of his boots under his
magnificent gown.
“Never mind,” said
Reynard, “you must keep your feet out of sight,” and he led him before the
King, who was immensely taken with his appearance.
“Tell me,” he said to
Reynard, after greetings had been exchanged, “why does your friend keep staring
at his clothes. One would think he was not used to them!”
Reynard smiled. “As a matter of fact, your
Majesty,” he answered, “he is not. This dress of his came out of your Majesty’s
wardrobe, for he
had the ill-fortune to spoil his own on the way here, by falling into a puddle.
The gown is good enough, as it goes, of course; but my friend is used to
something far finer. I would wager a thousand crowns he is thinking this very
moment that he has never been so poorly clad before in his life! Is it not so,
my lord?” he added, turning to Peter.
Peter gave a grin and
a nod of the head, and the affair passed without further comment, but on their
way in to dinner Reynard seized the opportunity to warn his friend against
further faults of deportment. But, as the saying goes, it is no use trying to make
a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, and no sooner were they seated at table, and
Peter saw the magnificent golden dishes, the delicate cut glass, and the fine
candlesticks, than he opened his eyes wide, and gave an exclamation of
astonishment.
“What is the matter now?” asked the King, staring at him.
“I crave your
Majesty’s pardon,” said Reynard. “My friend is a little overwhelmed, for your
customs are new to him. In his own palace, you see, he is used to a certain
degree of luxury—such a service of plate, for instance, as this on the table,
would there only be found in the servant’s quarters. Come, come, my lord,”
he added, clapping Peter on the shoulder, “it will do you good to live the
simple life. Spartan fare, my lord, Spartan fare!”
Peter rolled his eyes
and grinned again, before falling to, with a fairly good appetite, upon the
rich food spread before him.
“This lord must
certainly be of enormous wealth,” thought the King. “True, he has certain
curious tricks of manner, such as supping his gravy with a table-knife, but
what does a little thing like that matter! In other countries, other ways! That
is a very good proverb.”
After dinner was over
Reynard broached the matter of Peter’s marriage with the King’s daughter, and
the King gave his consent. He begged Reynard and his friend to remain at the
palace as his guests until the ceremony should take place, and apportioned to
them a magnificent suite of rooms. A week later Peter and the Princess were
married. The poor man could hardly believe his good luck as he stood before the
altar dressed out in gorgeous robes. All he could do was to stare like one who
is dazed, and Reynard had to nudge him from behind to get him to make the
responses. After the wedding a splendid feast was held, to which all the greatest
and wealthiest lords in the kingdom were invited, and then the King’s carriages
arrived to conduct the happy pair to Peter’s castle.
Now what was to be
done? Peter’s castle was a broken-down hovel at the edge of the forest. He
shivered with fear when he thought of what the Princess would say when she saw
it, with its mud floor, and its furniture consisting of one chair with no back,
one battered table, and a heap of brushwood covered with a ragged pallet which
served as a bed. Could Reynard overcome this difficulty as he had overcome all
the others?
Of course he could, and he did! Away went the
coaches, with Reynard sitting proudly on the box of the foremost, and presently
the whole cortège halted before the gates of an enchanted castle, which Reynard
had borrowed from the fairies of the forest. There Lord Jaco Peter and his
bride lived for many happy years. They had six children, three boys and three
girls, and Reynard was the friend of them all.
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