82. My Garden Is Better Than Ever
There was a poor woman who never saw money. Yet, one day while sweeping she found six centavos. “What shall I do?” she wondered. “If I buy sugar, it won’t last, and if I buy salt, it’ll be gone before I know it.”
At last she decided to get lettuce seed, and after she had sown it in a small plot and waited awhile, she harvested enough to sell. With the money she earned she was able to buy more seed, enough to make a large garden.
But there was a rabbit who tore things up just for the fun of it, and the rabbit began to ruin her garden. One day the poor woman came into the dooryard from her garden work, and a neighbor asked, “How are you doing? What’s happening with your garden?”
“A rabbit is tearing it up,” said the poor woman.
“Take my advice,” said the neighbor. “There’s an easy way to catch the rabbit. All you have to do is make a doll out of beeswax and put it in the path where the rabbit comes into the garden.”
The poor woman listened, but she did not hear all the neighbor’s words. Instead of using beeswax she made a doll out of rags. She put it in the garden. Later her neighbor asked, “How are you doing? What’s happening with the rabbit?”
“Nothing, neighbor. The rabbit tore up the doll.”
“What did you make it with?”
“Rags.”
“No-o-o-o, neighbor, I told you
wax.
”
The following day the poor woman tried again. This time she made the doll out of beeswax. That night when the rabbit arrived, he found the doll at the entrance to the garden. He said, “Good evening, little friend. May I have permission for lettuce?”
The doll said nothing. “Permission for lettuce?” said the rabbit again. No answer. The rabbit slapped it. “I’ll make you answer,” but his hand stuck fast. “Let me go. If you don’t, I’ll hit you again.” He slapped the doll with his other hand. Now both hands were stuck and the rabbit was angry. “Let my hands go,” he cried, “or I’ll kick you.” He did, and his feet stuck. Then he bit the doll, and his head stuck, too.
The next morning the owner went out to her garden. And what should she find but that she’d caught a rabbit. She made a cage out of sticks, put the rabbit inside, and after picking some vegetables, carried everything back to the house. Again the neighbor asked, “How are you doing, neighbor?”
“Very well,” she answered, both hands full. “My garden is better than ever.”
Mexico
(Popoluca)
/
Anastasio
García
83. Juan Bobo and the Pig
Before she left for Mass, Juan Bobo’s mama told him to watch the pig and the little chicks. When she’d gone, the pig started to squeal and the chicks tried to get out of the chicken yard. Juan Bobo saw that the pig wouldn’t be quiet, and he said to it, “Ah, you want to go to Mass with Mama, right? But don’t think I’m going to go with you.”
He took out his mama’s clothes and started to dress up the pig. He used the best things he could find, his mama’s new black mantilla, her lace collar, and everything else. Then he brought the pig to the road, and when it refused to move, he gave it a crack of the whip and off it ran.
Meanwhile the chicks were refusing to be still. So he caught them and hung them upside down from a stick. When Mama came home from Mass, she asked, “Juan Bobo, where’s the pig?”
He answered her a little worried, “You mean you didn’t see it at Mass? I dressed it up and sent it. It was crying to go with you. And the chicks were about to get out of the yard, so I hung them upside down from a stick. Look. They’re all perfectly quiet now.” And when he said, “Just wait, the pig will be back before you know it,” she whacked him until he was quiet himself.
Puerto
Rico
84. The Parrot Prince
If I tell it to know it you’ll know how to tell it and put it in ships for John, Rock, and Rick with dust and sawdust, ginger paste, and marzipan, triki-triki triki-tran.
It’s about a rich widower and his daughter, Mariquita, who was the apple of his eye. He doted on her without even thinking and gave in to her every whim. But she was all by herself when her father went out on business, and she began wishing she had sisters to keep her company.
Well then, in the house next door was a widow who had three daughters. Every time the widow saw Mariquita she gave her a little gift or something special to eat, while the daughters showered her with attention. They would say, “Tell your papa to marry our mama, then we’ll be together all day long.”
They kept at it until Mariquita imagined the world would be perfect if only this marriage could be brought about. She pestered her father to take the neighbor woman as his wife, pleading with him morning, noon, and night. Finally the father, for no other reason than to satisfy his daughter, said yes, and they had a wedding.
After that, things changed. Instead of gifts and tidbits, Mariquita’s stepmother and stepsisters gave her dark looks and scoldings and whacked her with the backs of their hands.
Knowing she had brought it all on herself, she couldn’t say a word to her father and had to suffer in silence. She would have gone on like this until who knows when, except that one day the whole thing boiled over. The sisters yanked her hair, and when she complained, the stepmother picked up a piece of stove wood and pummeled her with it. “Complain, will you? You had it coming! My daughters know you better than you know yourself!”
What they did know was that Mariquita was set to inherit her father’s fortune, and because of it they couldn’t stand the sight of her.
When the father came home that night, Mariquita told him the truth for a change. She refused to blame him, though. All she wanted was to live by herself in a certain little cottage her mother had left her, and the father at last agreed, since he could think of no other way to keep peace in the family.
Then one evening when Mariquita was sweeping her little dooryard, she heard a voice: “Mariquita, I’ll help you sweep.” Startled, she looked around but saw no one. The voice came again: “Look up in the
peumo
tree!” She looked, and there was a parrot. “Shall I come down?”
“Please! And be my friend, I’m so lonely. What can I get you? Nuts? Chocolate? Wine sops?”
“Not until after dark,” he said. “Put a basin of water on your windowsill, a comb, a mirror, and a hand towel, and you’ll see me later.”
At midnight there was a whirring of wings. The parrot dipped himself in the basin, dried off, combed his feathers, and looked in the mirror. Then, as he bounded into the room, he became the most handsome prince you ever dreamed of.
I’ll tell nothing at all of what they said to each other, except that when morning came the prince promised to be back that night and every night, and before he flew off he left a heavy bag. It was full of money. From then on Mariquita knew only happiness, and she began to wear silk and put on earrings and bracelets.
One of the stepsisters passed by the cottage one day and caught a glimpse of Mariquita through the open window. She ran back to her mother and sisters and told them she’d seen silk and jewels.
“Somebody’s giving her money,” said the mother. Then she instructed her eldest daughter, “Go pay a visit to little Mariquita. Spend the night and keep your ears open. Come back in the morning and tell us everything.”
The next day the girl showed up at Mariquita’s door with a hundred lies: “We can hardly stand it that you went away,” “All the little gifts we gave you!” “What thanks did we get?” “How it hurts!” “We’re dying to see you again.”
Then she added, “I’ve come to spend the day with you. And the night!”
Nothing if not good-hearted, Mariquita said, “Thanks.” But not wanting her stepsister to hear the prince arrive, she served her wine at dinner and kept refilling the glass until, when the stepsister stood up to go to bed, her head was spinning. By the time she lay down, a carriage could have rolled over her and she wouldn’t have felt a thing.
She went home the next day with tales of fine furnishings, perfect housekeeping, and rare foods and wines, which made the mother and the sisters more jealous than they’d been before. Worse, she had seen nothing of what she had been told to watch for. The mother took hold of her middle daughter. “Go now, and see if you can do better. I’m warning you, don’t sleep a wink!”
The girl set off, but she drank her dinner, just as her sister had done, and when she got back the following morning she couldn’t say any more than she could have said before she went.
The youngest daughter, who was the most jealous of all, said, “Mother, I’m going right now! Trust me, I’ll find out what we need to know!”
Off she ran. And when dinner was served, she only pretended to drink. She slept not a wink, her eye at the keyhole all night long. At midnight the parrot arrived at the windowsill, dipped in the basin, and became a prince. He sat close to Mariquita, caressing her, murmuring tenderly. By morning the stepsister’s jealousy had nearly eaten her alive, yet there she was, still hunched over the keyhole. She saw the prince jump to the windowsill, bathe himself, and fly away. And not without leaving a sackful of money.
Moments later she was out the door. As soon as she could no longer be seen from the cottage she started to run. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother. “Mama!” she announced. “Those ninnies fell asleep, but I stayed awake and saw it all, all, all!”
“We’ve got them now!” cried the mother. “That sow and her famous prince won’t be whispering tonight!”
Then shortly before midnight she slipped up to the cottage window and without the slightest noise laid three sharpened knives on the windowsill. When the parrot landed, the knives cut into his flesh and he let out with a shriek. “Mariquita, my love, you’ve betrayed me! Today was the last day of my enchantment. I would have been free, and now I am lost. May you repent! When you do, come after me. You must put on a pair of iron shoes, and not until the soles are worn through will you find me.” With that, he vanished.
Mariquita fell to weeping, then caught herself. “Why weep,” she thought, “when I could be looking for my husband?” She ran to the cobbler and ordered iron shoes. The moment they were ready she pulled them on. She bundled up a change of clothes, a pair of scissors, and a little flask, and off she went.
She climbed mountains and crossed prairies, never stopping to rest. Aches and pains couldn’t hold her back, not even exhaustion, though she felt it sorely. One day, when her strength had nearly ebbed away, she lay down in a thicket at the edge of a lake. She stretched out her legs and, oh bliss! the tips of her toes popped out. When she turned her shoes over she saw that the soles were completely worn through. “I’ve almost arrived,” she thought. “I’ll be with him soon.”
Night was coming, but there was a rustling nearby and she couldn’t sleep. Three duck women had landed at the edge of the lake:
“What kept you, comadre? And you, my goddaughter, what took so long?”
“Well, finally, comadre! That stupid husband of mine and my two older daughters, the good-for-nothings! I thought they’d never get to sleep. But here I am with my youngest, your goddaughter, comadre. She’s a witch after our own hearts. But tell us the latest. What’s happening with the parrot prince? Is he dead yet?”
“They say it’ll be only three more days. His wounds won’t heal. Those knives you laid on the windowsill were just the thing, comadre. His doctors will never guess the cure.”
“And what’s the cure?”
“Hush! Don’t you know the walls have ears and the bushes have eyes?”
“Go on, tell us. There’s nobody here but us three.”
“Well, who’d ever guess that the prince would be cured if they just took a feather from the right wing of each of us and waved it over the prince’s wounds after dipping it in our blood? Of course they’d have to kill us first.”
“But how would they ever guess? The Devil wouldn’t allow it.”
When their meeting was over, the three waddled into the reeds at the waterside and settled down for the night.
Mariquita waited until she was certain the ducks had fallen asleep. Then she went up to the closest of the three, which was none other than her own stepmother, and sliced off its head with one clip of her scissors. She took a feather from its right wing and poured a few drops of its blood into her flask. The next duck she came to was her stepsister, and she did the same; and the same again with the stepsister’s godmother. After that she changed into men’s clothing and hurried toward the city.
Running into the palace she yelled out to the king, “I’m a doctor!” She gave her orders: “I must be left alone with the prince.” When she reached his room, his eyes were already closed. She dipped one of the feathers into the flask and waved it gently over his wounds.
The next morning the king came in and asked, “How is my son?”
“See for yourself, sire. The worms have left, and the wounds are starting to close.” When the king had gone, Mariquita took the second feather, dipped it into the witches’ blood, and as she waved it in the air the prince opened his eyes.
The day after that she soaked up the rest of the blood with the third feather, passed it back and forth over the prince’s body, and he sat up and was well. Then she told him everything that had happened.
When the king came in, his joy was so great I haven’t the words to describe it. He gave his consent to the marriage, and they celebrated with much rejoicing throughout the kingdom.
And I can tell you it’s true, since they had me to the wedding banquet and fed me until I nearly burst.
With that my tale is done, and the wind blows it into the sea.
Chile
Chain Riddles
I.
“Where’s the corn?”
“Under a metate.”
“Where’s the metate?”
“In a gopher hole.”
“Where the hole?”
“Covered by a crab.”
“Where’s the crab.”
“Eaten by a heron.”
“Where’s the heron?”
“Perched in a tree.”
“Where’s the tree?”
“Fell in the water.”
“Where’s the water?”
“A deer drank it up.”
“Where’s the deer?”
“Scared off by a fire.”
“Where’s the fire?”
“Put out by the rain.”
“Where’s the rain?”
“Carried off by the wind.”
“Where’s the wind?”
“It blew away behind the mountain.”
Mexico
(Mixe)
II.
Comadre frog, where’s your husband?
“Coming, madam.”
“What’s he wearing?”
“His little suit.”
“And what’s its color?”
“Green-and-yellow.”
“Are we off to Mass?”
“I have no blouse.”
“Shall we hear the sermon?”
“I have no shawl.”
No bread to eat and nothing at all.
Puerto
Rico
III.
The moon, the moon, Santa Rosa,
Where did Rosa go?
“She went for two red-hot coals.”
“Why the fire?”
“To cook the corn.”
“Why the corn?”
“To make pancakes.”
“Why the pancakes?”
“For Grandfather to take to the orchard.”
“What’s Grandfather want in the orchard?”
“He went for a vine.”
“Why the vine?”
“To beat Grandmother, so she’ll get up from the kitchen and bring a jug of water.”
“Why the water?”
“For the chickens to drink.”
“Why the chickens?”
“To lay the eggs.”
“Why the eggs?”
“For food for the priest.”
“Why the priest?”
“To say a little Mass.”
Ting-a-ling, the milk palm nut,
Ting-a-ling, the
coyol
palm nut.
Mexico
(Zapotec)
IV.
“The king and queen have gone for water.”
“Where’s the water?”
“The chicks drank it up.”
“Where are the chicks?”
“They’re eating little bones.”
“Where are the bones?”
“The king took them.”
“Where’s the king?”
“He went to say Mass.”
“Where’s the Mass?”
“He wrapped it in paper.”
“Where’s the paper?”
“It flew to heaven.”
New
Mexico
V.
“Where are you going, daddy-long-legs?”
“Over there.”
“Why over there?”
“To get a white flower.”
“Why the flower?”
“To put at the feet of a girl.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“Bitten by a white snake.”
“Where’s the snake?”
“We killed it.”
“Where did you throw it?”
“Into the fire.”
“Where are the ashes?”
“The old church was patched up with them.”
“And the old church?”
“Collapsed.”
“Who knocked it down?”
“A crippled sheep gave it a kick.”
“And where’s the sheep?”
“A coyote ate it.”
“Where’s the coyote?”
“A vulture ate it.”
“Where’s the vulture.”
“Flew away.”
Mexico
(Otomi)
VI.
“Let’s hunt.”
“My rifle’s broken.”
“Where are the parts?”
“I burned them.”
“Where are the ashes?”
“Eaten by a falcon.”
“Where’s the falcon?”
“Went to the sky.”
“Where in the sky?”
“Fell.”
“Then where did it fall?”
“Went in a well.”
“Where’s the well?”
“Disappeared.”
“Where’d it disappear?”
“Into your belly button.”
“True.”
Mexico
(Yucatec
Maya)