Juan Manalaksan.

Narrated by Anicio Pascual of Arayat, Pampanga, who heard the story from an old Pampangan woman.

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a brave and powerful datu who had only one son. The son was called Pedro. In the same place lived a poor wood-cutter whose name was Juan Manalaksan. Pedro was rich, and had no work to do. He often diverted himself by hunting deer and wild boars in the forests and mountains. Juan got his living by cutting trees in the forests.

One day the datu and his son went to the mountain to hunt. They took with them many dogs and guns. They did not take any food, however, for they felt sure of catching something to eat for their dinner. When they reached the mountain, Pedro killed a deer. By noon they had become tired and hungry, so they went to a shady place to cook their game. While he was eating, Pedro choked on a piece of meat. The father cried out loudly, for he did not know what to do for his dying son. Juan, who was cutting wood near by, heard the shout. He ran quickly to help Pedro, and by pulling the piece of meat out of his throat he saved Pedro’s life. Pedro was grateful, and said to Juan, “To-morrow come to my palace, and I will give you a reward for helping me.”

The next morning Juan set out for the palace. On his way he met an old woman, who asked him where he was going.

“I am going to Pedro’s house to get my reward,” said Juan. “Do not accept any reward of money or wealth,” said the old woman, “but ask Pedro to give you the glass which he keeps in his right armpit. The glass is magical. It is as large as a peso, and has a small hole in the centre. If you push a small stick through the hole, giants who can give you anything you want will surround you.” Then the old woman left Juan, and went on her way.

As soon as Juan reached the palace, Pedro said to him, “Go to that room and get all the money you want.”But Juan answered, “I do not want you to give me any money. All I want is the glass which you keep in your right armpit.”

“Very well,” said Pedro, “here it is.” When Juan had received the glass, he hurried back home.

Juan reached his hut in the woods, and found his mother starving. He quickly thought of his magic glass, and, punching a small stick through the hole in the glass, he found himself surrounded by giants.

“Be quick, and get me some food for my mother!” he said to them. For a few minutes the giants were gone, but soon they came again with their hands full of food. Juan took it and gave it to his mother; but she ate so much, that she became sick, and died.

In a neighboring village ruled another powerful datu, who had a beautiful daughter. One day the datu fell very ill. As no doctor could cure him, he sent his soldiers around the country to say that the man who could cure him should have his daughter for a wife. Juan heard the news, and, relying on his charm, went to cure the datu. On his way, he asked the giants for medicine to cure the sick ruler. When he reached the palace, the datu said to him, “If I am not cured, you shall be killed.” Juan agreed to the conditions, and told the datu to swallow the medicine which he gave him. The datu did so, and at once became well again.

The next morning Juan was married to the datu’s daughter. Juan took his wife to live with him in his small hut in the woods.

One day he went to the forest to cut trees, leaving his wife and magic glass at home. While Juan was away in the forest, Pedro ordered some of his soldiers to go get the wood-cutter’s wife and magic glass. When Juan returned in the evening, he found wife and glass gone. One of his neighbors told him that his wife had been taken away by some soldiers. Juan was very angry, but he could not avenge himself without his magical glass.

At last he decided to go to his father-in-law and tell him all that had happened to his wife. On his way there, he met an old mankukulam,1 who asked him where he was going. Juan did not tell her, but related to her all that had happened to his wife and glass while he was in the forest cutting trees. The mankukulam said that she could help him. She told him to go to a certain tree and catch the king of the cats. She furthermore advised him, “Always keep the cat with you.” Juan followed her advice.

One day Pedro’s father commanded his soldiers to cut off the ears of all the men in the village, and said that if any one refused to have his ears cut off, he should be placed in a room full of rats. The soldiers did as they were ordered, and in time came to Juan’s house; but, as Juan was unwilling to lose his ears, he was seized and placed in a room full of rats. But he had his cat with him all the time. As soon as he was shut up in the room, he turned his cat loose. When the rats saw that they would all be killed, they said to Juan, “If you will tie your cat up there in the corner, we will help you get whatever you want.”

Juan tied his cat up, and then said to the rats, “Bring me all the glasses in this village.” The rats immediately scampered away to obey him. Soon each of them returned with a glass in its mouth. One of them was carrying the magical glass. When Juan had his charm in his hands again, he pushed a small stick through the hole in the glass, and ordered the giants to kill Pedro and his father, and bring him his wife again.

Thus Juan got his wife back. They lived happily together till they died.

Juan the Poor, Who became Juan the King.

Narrated by Amando Clemente, a Tagalog, who heard the story from his aunt.

Once upon a time there lived in a small hut at the edge of a forest a father and son. The poverty of that family gave the son his name,—Juan the Poor. As the father was old and feeble, Juan had to take care of the household affairs; but there were times when he did not want to work.

One day, while Juan was lying behind their fireplace, his father called him, and told him to go to the forest and get some fire-wood.

“Very well,” said Juan, but he did not move from his place.

After a while the father came to see if his son had gone, but he found him still lying on the floor. “When will you go get that fire-wood, Juan?”

“Right now, father,” answered the boy. The old man returned to his room. As he wanted to make sure, however, whether his son had gone or not, he again went to see. When he found Juan in the same position as before, he became very angry, and said,—

“Juan, if I come out again and find you still here, I shall surely give you a whipping.” Juan knew well that his father would punish him if he did not go; so he rose up suddenly, took his axe, and went to the forest.

When he came to the forest, he marked every tree that he thought would be good for fuel, and then he began cutting. While he was chopping at one of the trees, he saw that it had a hole in the trunk, and in the hole he saw something glistening. Thinking that there might be gold inside the hole, he hastened to cut the tree down; but a monster came out of the hole as soon as the tree fell.

When Juan saw the unexpected being, he raised his axe to kill the monster. Before giving the blow, he exclaimed, “Aha! Now is the time for you to die.”

The monster moved backward when it saw the blow ready to fall, and said,—

Juan lowered his axe, and said, “Oho! is that so?”

“Yes, I swear,” answered the monster.

“But what is it, and where is it?” said Juan, raising his axe, and feigning to be angry, for he was anxious to get what the monster promised him. The monster told Juan to take from the middle of his tongue a white oval stone. From it he could ask for and get whatever he wanted to have. Juan opened the monster’s mouth and took the valuable stone. Immediately the monster disappeared.

The young man then tested the virtues of his charm by asking it for some men to help him work. As soon as he had spoken the last word of his command, there appeared many persons, some of whom cut down trees, while others carried the wood to his house. When Juan was sure that his house was surrounded by piles of fire-wood, he dismissed the men, hurried home, and lay down again behind the fireplace. He had not been there long, when his father came to see if he had done his work. When the old man saw his son stretched out on the floor, he said, “Juan have we fire-wood now?”

“Just look out of the window and see, father!” said Juan. Great was the surprise of the old man when he saw the large piles of wood about his house.

The next day Juan, remembering the pretty wife of which the monster had spoken, went to the king’s palace, and told the king that he wanted to marry his daughter. The king smiled scornfully when he saw the rustic appearance of the suitor, and said, “If you will do what I shall ask you to do, I will let you marry my daughter.”

“What are your Majesty’s commands for me?” said Juan. “Build me a castle in the middle of the bay; but know, that, if it is not finished in three days’ time, you lose your head,” said the king sternly. Juan promised to do the work.

Two days had gone by, yet Juan had not yet commenced his work. For that reason the king believed that Juan did not object to losing his life; but at midnight of the third day, Juan bade his stone build a fort in the middle of the bay.

The next morning, while the king was taking his bath, cannon-shots were heard. After a while Juan appeared before the palace, dressed like a prince. When he saw the king, he said, “The fort is ready for your inspection.”

“If that is true, you shall be my son-in-law,” said the king. After breakfast the king, with his daughter, visited the fort, which pleased them very much. The following day the ceremonies of Juan’s marriage with the princess Maria were held with much pomp and solemnity.

Shortly after Juan’s wedding a war broke out. Juan led the army of the king his father-in-law to the battlefield, and with the help of his magical stone he conquered his mighty enemy. The defeated general went home full of sorrow. As he had never been defeated before, he thought that Juan must possess some supernatural power. When he reached home, therefore, he issued a proclamation which stated that any one who could get Juan’s power for him should have one-half of his property as a reward.

A certain witch, who knew of Juan’s secret, heard of the proclamation. She flew to the general, and told him that she could do what he wanted done. On his agreeing, she flew to Juan’s house one hot afternoon, where she found Maria alone, for Juan had gone out hunting. The old woman smiled when she saw Maria, and said, “Do you not recognize me, pretty Maria? I am the one who nursed you when you were a baby.”

The princess was surprised at what the witch said, for she thought that the old woman was a beggar. Nevertheless she believed what the witch told her, treated the repulsive woman kindly, and offered her cake and wine; but the witch told Maria not to go to any trouble, and ordered her to rest. So Maria lay down to take a siesta. With great show of kindness, the witch fanned the princess till she fell asleep. While Maria was sleeping, the old woman took from underneath the pillow the magical stone, which Juan had forgotten to take along with him. Then she flew to the general, and gave the charm to him. He, in turn, rewarded the old woman with one-half his riches.

Meanwhile, as Juan was enjoying his hunt in the forest, a huge bird swooped down on him and seized his horse and clothes. When the bird flew away, his inner garments were changed back again into his old wood-cutter’s clothes. Full of anxiety at this ill omen, and fearing that some misfortune had befallen his wife, he hastened home on foot as best he could. When he reached his house, he found it vacant. Then he went to the king’s palace, but that too he found deserted. For his stone he did not know where to look. After a few minutes of reflection, he came to the conclusion that all his troubles were caused by the general whom he had defeated in battle. He also suspected that the officer had somehow or other got possession of his magical stone.

Poor Juan then began walking toward the country where the general lived. Before he could reach that country, he had to cross three mountains. While he was crossing the first mountain, a cat came running after him, and knocked him down. He was so angry at the animal, that he ran after it, seized it, and dashed its life out against a rock. When he was crossing the second mountain, the same cat appeared and knocked him down a second time. Again Juan seized the animal and killed it, as before; but the same cat that he had killed twice before tumbled him down a third time while he was crossing the third mountain. Filled with curiosity, Juan caught the animal again: but, instead of killing it this time, he put it inside the bag he was carrying, and took it along with him.After many hours of tiresome walking, Juan arrived at the castle of the general, and knocked at the door. The general asked him what he wanted. Juan answered, “I am a poor beggar, who will be thankful if I can have only a mouthful of rice.” The general, however, recognized Juan. He called his servants, and said, “Take this wretched fellow to the cell of rats.”

The cell in which Juan was imprisoned was very dark; and as soon as the door was closed, the rats began to bite him. But Juan did not suffer much from them; for, remembering his cat, he let it loose. The cat killed all the rats except their king, which came out of the hole last of all. When the cat saw the king of the rats, it spoke thus: “Now you shall die if you do not promise to get for Juan his magical stone, which your master has stolen.”

“Spare my life, and you shall have the stone!” said the king of the rats.

“Go and get it, then!” said the cat. The king of the rats ran quickly to the room of the general, and took Juan’s magical stone from the table.

As soon as Juan had obtained his stone, and after he had thanked the king of the rats, he said to his stone, “Pretty stone, destroy this house with the general and his subjects, and release my father-in-law and wife from their prison.”

Suddenly the earth trembled and a big noise was heard. Not long afterwards Juan saw the castle destroyed, the general and his subjects dead, and his wife and his father-in-law free.

Taking with him the cat and the king of the rats, Juan went home happily with Maria his wife and the king his father-in-law. After the death of the king, Juan ascended to the throne, and ruled wisely. He lived long happily with his lovely wife.

Notes.

These two stories belong to the “Magic Ring” cycle, and are connected with the well-known “Aladdin” tale. Antti Aarne (pp. 1–82) reconstructs the original formula of this type, which was about as follows:—

In nearly every detail our stories vary from this norm: (1) The hero does not buy the life of any animals, (2) he does not acquire the charm from a grateful serpent that he has unselfishly saved from death, (3) the dog does not appear at all, (4) castle and wife are not transported beyond the sea, (5) the cat does not serve the hero voluntarily out of gratitude, (6) the hero himself journeys to recover his stolen charm. And yet there can be no doubt of the connection of our stories with this cycle. The acquirement of a charm, through the help of which the hero performs a difficult task under penalty of death, and thus wins the hand of a ruler’s daughter; the theft of the charm and the disappearance of the wife; the search, which is finally brought to a successful close through the help of a cat and the king of the rats; the recovery of wife and charm, and the death of the hero’s enemies, these details in combination are unmistakable proofs.

Most of the characteristic details, however, of the “Magic Ring” cycle are to be found in the Philippines, although they are lacking in these two stories. For instance, in No. 26 the hero buys the life of a snake for five cents, and is rewarded by the king of the serpents with a magic wishing-cloth (cf. E. Steere, 403). In a Visayan pourquoi story, “Why Dogs wag their Tails” (see JAFL 20 : 98–100), we have a variant of the situation of the helpful dog and cat carrying a ring across a body of water, the quarrel in mid-stream, and the loss of the charm. In the same volume (pp. 117–118) is to be found a Tagalog folk-version of the “Aladdin” tale.2

Neither “Juan Manalaksan” nor “Juan the Poor, who became Juan the King,” can be traced, I believe, to any of the hundred and sixty-three particular forms of the story cited by Aarne. The differences in detail are too many. The last part of Pedroso’s Portuguese folk-tale, No. xxx, is like (b), in that the hero himself seeks the thief, takes along with him a cat, is recognized by the thief and imprisoned, and by means of the cat threatens the king of the rats, who recovers the charm for him. But the first part is entirely different: the charm is an apple obtained from a hind, and the hero’s wife is not stolen along with the charm. No Spanish version has been recorded. It is not impossible that the story in the Philippines is prehistoric. “Juan Manalaksan,” which the narrator took down exactly as it was told to him, clearly dates back to a time when the tribe had its own native datu government, possibly to a time even before the Pampangans migrated to the Philippines. The whole “equipment” of this story is primitive to a degree. Moreover, the nature of the charm in both stories—a piece of glass and an oval stone instead of the more usual ring—points to the primitiveness of our versions, as does likewise the fact that the charm is not stolen from the hero by his wife, but by some other person (see Aarne, pp. 43, 45).

For further discussions of this cycle of folk-tales, and its relation to the Arabian literary version, see Aarne, 61 et seq. Compare also Macculloch, 201–202, 237–238; Groome, 218–220; Clouston’s “Variants of Button’s Supplemental Arabian Nights,” pp. 564–575; Bolte-PolÍvka, 2 : 451–458; Benfey, 1 : 211 ff. Add to Aarne’s and Bolte’s lists Wratislaw, No. 54. See also DÄhnhardt, 4 : 147–160.

In conclusion, I may add in the way of an Appendix, as it were, a brief synopsis of a Tagalog romance entitled “Story of Edmundo, Son of Merced in the Kingdom of France; taken from a novela and composed by one who enjoys writing the Tagalog language. Manila 1909.” This verse-form of a story at bottom the same as our two folk-tales is doubtless much more recent than our folk-tales themselves, and is possibly based on them directly, despite the anonymous author’s statement as to the unnamed novela that was his source. In the following summary of the “Story of Edmundo,” the numbers in parentheses refer to stanzas of the original Tagalog text.

The Prince’s Dream.

Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol of Tigaon, Camarines. The narrator says, “This story was told to me by my guardian while I was in Nueva Caceres. He told it to me in the Bicol dialect, and said that this must be a Bicol story.”

Once there lived a young prince who, after his father’s death, succeeded to the throne as the sole heir of a vast, rich kingdom. He indulged himself in all worldly pleasures. He gave dances, and all sorts of merry-making surrounded his court to attract the most beautiful ladies of the kingdom. Meanwhile the royal treasury was being drained, and his subjects were becoming disloyal to him; for, his time being chiefly absorbed in personal cares, he often neglected his duties as king. Disappointed by his conduct, his counsellors plotted against him: they resolved to dismiss him from the realm. The prince’s mother, the widowed queen, learned of their plot. So, when he returned to the palace from his evening walk one day, she said to him, “My son, I wish you would turn from your foolish trifling, and govern your people as you ought to do; for your advisers are planning to dethrone you.” The prince, who was not bad at heart, followed his mother’s sensible advice: he now began to devote himself to the welfare of his subjects. His ministers, too, gave up their plan, and aided the young king in his royal tasks.

One noon, when the prince was taking his siesta, he had a dream. A ghost appeared to him, and spoke in this manner: “Your father left a hidden treasure of gold and diamonds, which he forgot to mention in his will. Should you care to have that treasure, go to the city of Black. There you will find a Negro, the richest in that city, who will tell you all about the treasure.” On hearing these words, the prince woke up, and hurriedly acquainted his mother with his dream. “Undeceive yourself,” she said. “Never believe in dreams. I don’t believe in them myself.” In spite of his mother’s words, he decided to look for the Negro.

The next day, disguising himself as a poor traveller, the prince set out for the city of Black. He arrived there at ten o’clock at night, and the gate of the city was closed; for there was a law there, that, after the bell had rung ten, no person could enter the city. So he had to sleep outside the walls. Then the very same ghost that had spoken to him in his palace appeared to him, and said, “Go back to your palace, prince, and there in the cellar you will find the treasure I spoke of.” The moment he heard the voice, the prince got up and returned to his own city. When his mother saw him, she said to him, “Did you find what you were looking for?”—“Mother, the very same ghost told me that the treasure is buried in the cellar of the palace.”

“I have told you that dreams are never true,” she said. “The ghost must be joking you. You see, you have gone to a faraway land in vain. Banish all thoughts of that treasure, and continue ruling your kingdom well, and you will be very much better off.”

At first the prince followed his mother’s counsel, and tried to rid his mind of the thought of the treasure; but the ghost haunted him in his sleep, day and night, reminding him of the gold and diamonds. Early one morning, without the knowledge of his mother, he took a pointed iron bar and went down into the cellar of the palace. There he dug where the treasure was supposed to be. He dug and dug to find the coveted gold and diamonds. He remained there several hours, and had excavated a hole some three metres deep, but had found no sign of the hidden wealth. Just as he was about to give up, his bar struck something hard which produced a metallic sound. He went on digging until finally he uncovered an iron platform in the form of a square. It was locked with a padlock, and the key was in the lock. He lifted the platform, and to his great surprise and wonder found a low ladder made of diamond bars, leading down into a small apartment all shining bright as if it were day. Here he found two columns of diamond bars, each a foot in thickness and a metre in height, whose brightness shot through all the corners like sunbeams. This subterranean chamber immediately led to another in which there was a big safe about five feet in height and three feet wide. He opened the safe, and from out of it flowed gold coins like water in torrents from a cliff. His eyes were dazzled by their brightness; and he was so startled at the inexhaustible flow of money, that he said to himself, “Are these gold coins and diamonds real, or am I simply dreaming?” To assure himself, he filled his cap with the gold coins and went up into the sunlight. He rubbed his eyes and examined the coins: they were of pure gold. Greatly delighted by his discovery, he hastened to his mother, and said, “I have found the treasure, I have found the treasure!” When the queen saw the gold glittering in her son’s hand, she was very glad. Now both mother and son hurried down to the cellar. There the prince continued his search for the hidden treasure, while his mother contemplated in awe the columns of diamonds she saw in those underground apartments. Now the prince came to a third chamber, in which he found two more columns of diamonds like those in the first room; and finally he came to a fourth apartment, in which he saw a wide curtain of silk hanging on the wall. Back of this wall was another apartment, but it was securely locked. On the curtain were embroidered the following words in big golden letters: “Inside this chamber is another column of diamonds twice as large and twice as high as those in the other two; none can unlock this apartment but the wealthiest Negro in the city of Black.”

Anxious to have this last column of diamonds, the prince determined to find the Negro. Disguising himself again as a poor traveller, he set out for the city of Black. There he found the Negro, who received him very kindly. In the course of their talk the prince spoke of his dream, and told how he found the gold coins and the diamond columns, and finally gave the reason for his coming there as a poor traveller. Furthermore, the prince mentioned his father’s name. On hearing the prince’s story, the Negro knelt down before him, saying, “My prince, I was the most beloved servant of your father. I acknowledge you as my master, and am disposed and ready to do anything for your sake. As to the chamber you spoke of, I have not the power to unlock it. There is but one man who can unlock it, who knows very well your dead father, and who was his friend. He knows me, too, very well. This man is the king of the demons. And to him we will go together; but before we go, we should eat our dinner.” Then the Negro ordered all kinds of delicious dishes, and the two feasted together.

After they had dined, they set out on their journey to the palace of the king of the demons. Soon they came to a river. There the Negro instructed the prince not to say anything if he should see any extraordinary sights, lest some terrible danger befall them. The Negro waved his hand, and in a moment there came a sphinx paddling a small banca towards them. They got into it, and the sphinx rowed back to the other side. Then they walked on till they came to the palace of the king of the demons, which was protected by two circular walls. They knocked at the gate of the first. The moment they knocked, it became dark all around them; lightnings flashed before their eyes, and it thundered. Then the gate opened. After passing through the first gate, they came to the second. “They knocked, and the gate flung open. At once two lions ran out towards them with eyes glowing like balls of fire, and were ready to spring upon them and devour them; but on coming nearer the strangers, and recognizing the Negro, these two kings of beasts wagged their tails as a sign of welcome.

The Negro and the prince were conducted to the king’s throne. The king of the demons asked them what they wanted. The prince spoke: “King of the demons, I have found in the cellar of my palace a store of gold coins and several diamond columns, my father’s hidden treasure which he forgot to mention in his will. The last column is locked up in a separate apartment, and there is none who has the power to unlock it but yourself.”

“Young king,” replied the king of the demons, “it is true that I am the only one who can unlock it. I gave that diamond column to your father as a gift which he might bequeath to his son; and if you are his son, you shall have it. But, before giving it to you, I should like to have you do me a favor in return for that rich gift. If you will bring me a very beautiful woman to be my companion, one whose heart is untainted by any worldly passion, I will unlock for you your wished-for treasure, the diamond room.”

At this request the young man stood speechless for some time. At last, perplexed, he replied, “O king of the demons! it seems to me impossible to fulfil your wish. I am not a man of superhuman power to read into a woman’s heart.”

“Well,” returned the king of the demons, taking out of his pocket a small oval mirror, “if you see a beautiful woman, hold this mirror before her face. If the surface of the mirror becomes clouded, leave her; but if the surface of the mirror remains as clear as before, bring her to me, for she is the one I want for my comfort.”

The prince took the mirror, and with his Negro companion left the palace to look for the desired girl for the king of the demons. They visited cities and villages. In three days they had searched through three cities and three villages, but every girl that looked on the magic mirror clouded its surface. Then, discouraged by their failure, the travellers decided to go back to the palace of the king of the demons. On their return they felt very tired, and so stopped in a small village to rest. There they found a most beautiful girl, the daughter of a poor farmer. It was the very girl desired by the king of the demons; for, after she had looked on the magic mirror, its surface remained as clear as before. Then with joyful hearts the Negro and the prince set out with the lady for the abode of the king of the demons.

On their way, the prince, fascinated by her beauty, fell in love with the girl. He did not want to give her up to the king of the demons, and so proposed to the Negro that they take her to his palace. But the Negro would not consent, for the king of the demons knew all about their doings, he said. So the prince gave up his plan on condition that the girl’s face be veiled.

When they arrived at the palace, the king of the demons gladly met them, and said to the prince, “Now you have fulfilled my wish. You may go back to your palace, and there you will find the diamond apartment unlocked for you.” The sorrowing prince turned his back and left the palace with heavy heart; for he no longer thought of the treasure of gold and diamonds, but had his whole soul centred in that beautiful maiden that he had given up to the king of the demons. He reached his own palace sad and dejected. Yet, to divert his mind from the thought of her, he went to the subterranean apartment; and there he found the last chamber unlocked.

After some hesitation, he went into the apartment. There he found two veiled figures,—the one in the form of a king with his sceptre and crown; the other, a maiden. He unveiled the one with the crown, and was astounded to find the very same king of the demons. “Prince, unveil that figure,” said the king of the demons to him. The young king did so, and to his great joy saw the beautiful maiden he had lost his heart to. At once his sadness disappeared. Then the king of the demons said to the prince, “Young king, since on your way to my palace you fell in love with this maiden, I deem it fit that you should have her for your companion; but do not expect the diamond column any more.” Then the king of the demons disappeared. The prince at once embraced the maiden, and conducted her up to his palace. That same day their marriage was celebrated with pomp and luxury.

Note.

Dr. Franz Boas informs me that this story is from the “Arabian Nights,” “The Tale of Zayn Al-Asnam” (see Burton, Supplemental Nights,” iii, 3–38; for Clouston’s discussion of variants and analogues, ibid., 553–563).

The Wicked Woman’s Reward.

Narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, a Bicol from Camarines. The story was told by a father to one of his sons.

Once there lived a certain king. He had concubines, five in number. Two of them he loved more than the others, for they were to bear him children. He said that the one who should give birth to a male baby he would marry. Soon one of them bore a child, but it was a girl, and shortly afterward the other bore a handsome boy. The one which had given birth to the baby girl was restless: she wished that she might have the boy. In order to satisfy her wish, she thought of an ingenious plan whereby she might get possession of the boy.

One midnight, when all were sound asleep, she killed her own baby and secretly buried it. Then she quietly crept to her rival’s bed and stole her boy, putting in his place a newborn cat. Early in the morning the king went to the room of his concubine who had borne the boy, and was surprised to find a cat by her side instead of a human child. He was so enraged, that he immediately ordered her to be drowned in the river. His order was at once executed. Then he went into the room of the wicked woman. The moment he saw the boy baby, he was filled with great joy, and he smothered the child with kisses. As he had promised, he married the woman. After the marriage the king sent away all his other concubines, and he harbored a deep love for his deceitful wife.

Soon afterwards there was a great confusion throughout the kingdom. Everybody wondered why it was that the river smelled so fragrant, and the people were very anxious to find out the cause of the sweet odor. It was not many days before the townspeople along the river-bank found the corpse of the drowned woman floating in the water; and this was the source of the sweetness that was causing their restlessness. It was full of many different kinds of flowers which had been gathered by the birds. When the people attempted to remove the corpse from the water, the birds pecked them, and would not let the body be taken away.At last the news of the miracle was brought to the ears of the king. He himself went to the river to see the wonderful corpse. As soon as he saw the figure of the drowned woman, he was tortured with remorse. Then, to his great surprise and fear, the corpse suddenly stood up out of the water, and said to him in sorrowful tones, “O king! as you see, my body has been floating on the water. The birds would have buried me, but I wanted you to know that you ordered me to be killed without any investigation of my fault. Your wife stole my boy, and, as you saw, she put a cat by my side.” The ghost vanished, and the king saw the body float away again down the river. The king at once ordered the body of his favorite to be taken out of the water and brought to the palace; and he himself was driven back to the town, violent with rage and remorse. There he seized his treacherous wife and hurled her out of the window of the palace, and he even ordered her body to be hanged.

Having gotten rid of this evil woman, the king ordered the body of the innocent woman to be buried among the noble dead. The corpse was placed in a magnificent tomb, and was borne in a procession with pompous funeral ceremonies. He himself dressed entirely in black as a sign of his genuine grief for her; yet, in spite of his sorrow for his true wife, he took comfort in her son, who grew to be a handsome boy. As time went on, the prince developed into a brave youth, who was able to perform the duties of his father the king: so, as his father became old, no longer able to bear the responsibilities of regal power, the prince succeeded to the throne, and ruled the kingdom well. He proved himself to be the son of the good woman by his wise and just rule over his subjects.

Note.

I know of no other versions of this story. The incident of the animal substitution for child is a commonplace in folk-tales, though it is usually ascribed to an envious step-mother rather than an envious co-wife. For abstracts of Filipino stories containing this incident see JAFL 29 : 226 et seq., 228, 229; 19 : 265–272.

The Magic Ring (“Ang Singsing Nga Tantanan”).

Narrated by Encarnacion Gonzaga, a Visayan from Jaro, Iloilo. The story, she says, is very popular among the Visayans.

In the town of X, not far from the kingdom of Don Fernando, there lived an old religious woman named Carmen. She had a son named Carlos. She had been a widow since Carlos was nine months old. She was poor—poor even to raggedness. One day she said to her son, “I have named you Carlos because I love you. For me, no name is prettier than yours. Every letter in it means something.” Carlos asked his mother to tell him the meaning of his name; but she said to him, “I’ll tell it to you later. First go to the king’s palace, and there beg something for us to eat. O my son! if you only knew the miseries I have had to endure to bring you up, you would not refuse this request of your poor mother,” she said, weeping.

Carlos pitied his mother very much, so he ran towards the king’s palace to beg some food; but when he reached the gate, he hesitated to enter. He was ashamed to beg, so he went and stood silently under the orange-tree which was not far from the princess’s window. “If I should obey my mother’s request,” he said to himself, “what would the princess say? She would probably say to me, ‘You are too young to beg.’ What a disgrace then would it be for me!” As Carlos was looking at the declining sun with tears in his eyes, the princess raised her window and unintentionally spit on his head. Carlos’s eyes flashed. He looked at the princess sternly, and said, “If the Goddess of the Sea, who has a star on her forehead1 and a moon on her throat, does not dare to spit on me, how can you—you who are but the shadow of her power and beauty?”

At these harsh words the princess fainted. When she came to herself, she cried. Her tears were like drops of dew falling from the leaves in the morning. Her father entered her room, and found her in her sorrow. “Why do you weep, Florentina?” asked Don Fernando.

“O Father!” answered Florentina, “my heart is broken. I have been disgraced.”

“Why should you say so?” replied her father. “Who broke your heart, and who disgraced you?”

“There’s a man under the orange-tree,” answered the princess, “who said to me these words”—and she repeated what Carlos had said to her.

The king instantly ordered Carlos to be seized and brought into his presence. Carlos stood fearless before him, and answered all his questions. Don Fernando at last said, “If within a week you cannot show me that what you said to my daughter is true, you’ll be hanged without mercy.”These words frightened Carlos. With tears in his eyes and with his thoughts devoted to God, who alone could give him consolation, he walked down the shore of the Golden River. He sat down to rest under a pagatpat-tree2. An eagle which had a nest at the very top of the tree saw him crying, and said to him, “Why do you weep, Carlos?”

“O Eagle, queen of the birds! I’d be very thankful to you if you’d only tell me where the home of the Goddess of the Sea is,” said Carlos.

“Why do you want her house?” asked the eagle. “Don’t you know that no human being is able to see her?”

“I didn’t know that; but if I cannot see her, my life is lost,” said Carlos sadly.

The eagle pitied Carlos very much: so she said, “Come, Carlos, come! and I’ll lead you to the right path.” Carlos followed her until they came to the mouth of the river. There they stopped. The eagle shouted, “O king of the fishes! come and help me, for I am in great need of assistance.” The king of the fishes appeared, and asked what the eagle needed. The eagle told him the story of Carlos, and asked him if he could take Carlos to the home of the Goddess of the Sea. As the fish could not refuse the request of the queen of the birds, he said to Carlos, “Carlos, lie on my back and close your eyes: within five minutes you’ll be in the home of the goddess.”

Carlos obeyed the fish. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was in a very beautiful house. He was lying on a golden bed, and beside him was standing a beautiful woman with a star on her forehead and a moon on her throat. Carlos could not believe that the vision was true. By and by he heard a sweet voice saying, “What has brought you to this place?”

Carlos trembled, and answered, “I have come here to ask for your help.”

“What help do you desire?” asked the goddess. Carlos related his story. The goddess could not refuse help to one who had spoken so well of her beauty, so she took her diamond ring off her finger and gave it to Carlos, saying, “Take this ring with you. Whenever you want or need my help, touch the ring thrice, and say, ‘O God, help me!’ If the king wants my presence, touch the ring six times, and I’ll appear before you.”

Carlos received the ring, and, humbly kneeling before the goddess, said, “I can find no words in which to express to you my gratitude. I thank you with all my heart.”The goddess then called to the king of the fishes, and ordered him to take Carlos back to land. When Carlos arrived at the shore of the river, he met the eagle, who showed him the way to the king’s palace.

The king Don Fernando, on seeing Carlos once more before him, said, “You wretch! one day more is all you have to live.”

“To-morrow,” replied Carlos, “I’ll come before your Highness, and I’ll show to you that what I said to the princess is true.” When morning came the next day, Carlos was ordered into the king’s presence. All the lords and nobles of the kingdom were in the palace, anxious to see the Goddess of the Sea. It was already eight o’clock, and the goddess had not yet appeared. The king asked, “Where is she, Carlos?”

“She cannot come,” replied Carlos; “but, if your Highness wants me to, I’ll give you a trunk filled with gold in exchange for my life.”

“No,” said the king angrily: “what we want is the Goddess of the Sea. If you cannot show her to us, prepare to be hanged.”

Carlos touched the ring six times, and the beautiful Goddess of the Sea appeared. All were amazed to see a woman with curly hair, a star on her forehead, a moon on her throat, and wearing a white dress glistening with diamonds. “Carlos is an enchanter!” cried the king, and he ran to embrace the goddess. In five minutes she disappeared, and Carlos’s life was saved.

Don Fernando now proposed to marry his daughter Florentina to Carlos. At first the princess hesitated to say yes, but at last she consented. Carlos was glad to marry the beautiful princess; but, before the marriage took place, he went to get his poor mother, who was anxiously awaiting his return home.

Carlos with his diamond ring could now have everything he needed. In fact, he made the chapel in which he was married all of gold. The wedding-dress of the princess was adorned with diamonds. Immediately after the wedding, poor Carmen died of happiness. Carlos continued to live in the palace with his wife Florentina, but he never came to know the meaning of his name.

Note.

I know of no variants of this story. The detail of the helpful animals is common in Filipino MÄrchen; here, however, the kindness of the eagle and the fish lack the usual motivation.

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 to carry 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 the impossible. 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 across this 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,—

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 widespread MÄrchen in 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, and vice-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 time came, 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 hundred cavans of husked rice with one hundred cavans of 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 hundred cavans of husked rice mixed with one hundred cavans of 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 hundred cavans of 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 line between 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 what is in 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:—

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 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 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 back to 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 to fulfil 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 your ganta, for he desires to measure his money.” The king gave him the ganta. 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 your ganta again. He wants to finish measuring his money.”

The king was filled with curiosity; and he said, “I’ll let you borrow the ganta, 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 the ganta. “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 noticed the four pieces of gold sticking to the corners of the ganta. 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 your ganta with 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, and ran 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 to follow; 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 chickens used 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 the ganta-measure to the monkey, who thanked him and hurried home. Before he returned it to 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 the ganta back 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 a cavan, which equals about twenty-five gantas. 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 the cavan which 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 its place 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 friendly jinnee, 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 along with 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 thieving jackal is 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.1 In 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):—

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 in No. 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:—

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).

Juan the Fool.

This story was narrated by Remedios Mendoza of Manila, but the story itself comes from the Tagalog province of Bulakan.

(NARRATOR’S NOTE.—This story was told to me by a student. He said that he first heard it in one of the informal gatherings which are very common in Bocawe, Bulakan, during the hot season. The young men often assemble at a little shop kept by a young woman, and there the story-teller of the barrio tells stories. This story of Juan was told at one of these gatherings by an old man about fifty years old.)

Juan is twenty years old. At this age he begins to become famous in his little barrio. He is short in stature. His eyes are neither bright nor dull: they are very black, and slowly roll in their sockets. His mouth is narrow. He has a double chin, and a short flat nose. His forehead is broad, and his lips are thick. His hair is black and straight. His body is round like a pumpkin, and his legs are short. He seems to be always tired. In spite of all these physical peculiarities, however, he is invited to every bayluhan and katapusan,1 because he is sure to bring with him laughter and merriment.

Juan lives in a poor barrio, which consists of a few poor nipa huts. It has a small chapel of stone, with a turret and bells. In the courtyard in front of the chapel is erected a cross. A few nipa cottages are scattered along the lonely streets of the barrio. There is a rivulet just outside the village. Its course is hidden and lost in a thick forest which extends to the foot of a mountain.

At the time the story opens Juan is eating his breakfast with his mother. She is an old widow, whose sole ambition is to establish Juan in a good social position. She is constantly advising her son, when there is any occasion to preach, to be on the lookout for a virtuous wife. She tells him that, since she is an old and experienced woman, he must follow her advice. Her advice is that a good wife is always quiet and tongue-tied, and does not go noisily about the house. As Juan is an obedient son, he soon determines to get him a good wife. After a short time Juan comes home to his mother, and says to her, “Mother, I have found the girl you will like,—the one who shall be my wife. She is speechless and motionless. Her eyes are staring in just one place. Though I have watched her closely for about twelve hours, I have not observed the slightest motion in her lips and eyelids. She remained quiet in her bed, although there were many noisy people in the house.”

“And is that all?” says his mother.

“No, mother,” says Juan, “her hands were very cold. She was deaf, and she did not answer me. This fact makes her all the lovelier, and I am sure you will like her. There is only one thing you did not tell me, however.”

“I think,” says the mother, “that I advised you well.”

“Yes, I think so too,” says Juan. “The girl had a stinking waxy-like odor.”

“O Juan!” exclaims his mother, “I already suspected from your long description that you followed my instructions too literally. The girl you found is a dead one. Now, remember: those who stink are dead.”

“Thanks, mother,” says Juan quietly, “I will never forget that.”

A few days later, when Juan and his mother are eating their breakfast, Juan smells a stinking odor. He looks around the little room. As he does not see any one else there, he thinks that his mother is dead. Then, when his mother is taking her siesta, Juan says to himself, “Surely mother is dead.” He goes out quietly and digs a grave for her. Then he buries her in it, and mourns for her nine days. Now Juan is alone in the world.

One morning, when Juan is eating his breakfast by himself, he smells again a stinking odor. He looks around, and, as he does not see any one, he thinks that he himself is dead. There is nobody to bury him. So he goes to the river, takes five or six banana-trunks, and makes a raft of them. He lies down on the raft, and lets the current of the river carry him away. In three hours the current has carried him into the woods. While he is floating through the forest, all of a sudden he is called in a fierce voice by some one on shore. This man was the captain of a band of robbers. Juan does not stir in his place. The second shout is accompanied by a terrible oath. Juan opens his eyes. He sadly looks at the robbers, and tells them that he is a dead man. The robbers laugh; but when Juan insists on remaining on the river, the captain frightens Juan, and says that he will shoot if he does not get up. As Juan does not care for the taste of bullets, he goes to the bank of the river, still thinking that he is a walking dead body.

Juan goes with the robbers into the woods. Their house is in a deserted spot. The captain appoints Juan their housekeeper. He tells him to cook rice, but orders him to keep very still and quiet, for they may be caught by the Spanish soldiers (cazadores). Then the robbers go out on an expedition, and Juan is left alone in the house. He shuts the windows, and everything is quiet and undisturbed. He even tries to control his breathing for fear of the noise it may make. He cautiously takes an earthen pot and puts rice and water into it. Then he places the pot on the fire, and sits down near it. Everything is silent. But suddenly a murmuring sound seems to come from the pot. (The water is beginning to boil.) Soon the sound seems to be very loud. Juan thinks that the pot is saying, “Buluk ka.” This expression means, “You are decayed.” So Juan gets very angry. He whispers to the pot to stop; but the pot does not seem to hear him, for the murmuring sound becomes louder and louder. At last Juan is so exasperated, that he takes a piece of bamboo-bellows (ihip) and gives the pot a fatal blow. This puts an end to the pot, the rice, and the flames.

At noon the hungry robbers come home. They find Juan almost breathless in the darkest corner of the house, the pot broken, and the rice scattered over the floor. They ask Juan what is the matter. Juan says that the naughty pot was making too much noise, and was mocking him; and, as the captain bade him be careful about making a noise, he struck the pot and broke it into pieces. The captain cannot help smiling at Juan’s foolishness, and he tells Juan to prepare a lunch with anything he can find in the house.

The next day comes, and all the food is eaten. The captain gives Juan some money, and tells him to go to the market to buy some earthen pots and some crabs. When Juan reaches the barrio, he buys all the crabs he can find, and about two dozen large earthen pots. He next finds out that the pots are too bulky for him to carry, although they are not heavy. At last he thinks of a good way to carry them. He has the pots carried to one corner of the market, where he buys a long piece of rattan. He sharpens one end of the rattan and passes it through the bottoms of all the pots, so that they are now very easy to be carried. He slings them over his shoulder, and starts for home with the pots and the crabs. Soon he comes to a large, wide river with a very strong current. He sits down on the bank and wonders what is to be done. He remembers that crabs are good swimmers, so he decides to untie them and let them swim to the other side of the river. As he unties the crabs, he says, “Now, crabs, we have to cross this broad river. I know that you are good swimmers. I am a slow swimmer myself, and especially with these pots to carry. Please swim to the other side of the river as quickly as you can, for I cannot carry you. If you reach the other side before I do, you may go straight home, or wait for me.” With this warning, he releases the crabs one by one so that they may go in a straight line. He is very glad to see them swim so fast. Then with the help of a piece of bamboo, and after a long struggle, he himself reaches the opposite shore. He looks around for the crabs; but, seeing none, he says to himself, “Perhaps they have become tired of waiting for me and have gone straight home, as I ordered them to do. What a surprise for the captain!” Juan is very glad at the decision of the crabs, and he sets out for the robbers’ house, always hoping to overtake the rear of the long procession of crabs. He soon reaches home. He asks the robbers if the crabs have arrived. When Juan finds out that not one of the naughty crabs obeyed him, he blames himself for his quiet nature, and swears that he will never trust a crab again. The captain asks him about the pots. Juan tells him that they are all safe, and that the captain must thank him for his wit in solving the problem of how to carry two dozen large pots at the same time. All the robbers are eager to see what Juan’s scheme was. When they find out what Juan has done, and see the holes in the bottom of all the pots, they cannot help laughing. The captain, however, addresses Juan with all the epithets found in a common slang dictionary. The captain now decides never to let Juan stay in the house alone, and from that time on takes him with them on their expeditions.

Several days later the captain calls Juan one night, and tells him to get ready, for they are going to rob a certain house. They go through the forest, and soon come to a clearing, in the middle of which stands a large nipa house. While they are still in the thicket, the captain calls Juan to him, and says, “Juan, go into the silong2 of the house, and see if the people are awake. Now, remember, if you feel something hot, it is a man; but if it is cold, it is a bolo. Do you understand?” Juan answers, “Yes,” and obediently goes to the house, repeating to himself the orders of the captain. He cautiously goes under the house, and looks around. After a while something hot falls on his back. He quickly runs away, and begins to cry, “Tao, tao!” (“Man, man!”) All the robbers get frightened, so they run away too. After a few minutes they come together. Seeing that they are not pursued, the captain calls Juan, and says to him, “Juan, why did you fool us? Nobody is pursuing us.”

“Well,” says Juan, “I followed your orders. You said that if I felt something hot, it was a man; but if cold, it was a bolo. I went into the silong. I looked up. There was a faint light, and I saw a large mat outlined on the floor. As I was looking at it, a hot thing fell on my back. Then I ran away to warn you.”

“Let us see,” says the captain impatiently, “what tao that is which has fallen on your back.” One of the robbers lights a match. The robbers examine Juan’s back, and they see only a little lizard clinging to his worn-out camisa (loose, thin cotton coat).3 Some of the robbers get angry, and some laugh at Juan’s foolishness. The captain tells Juan that he may go away, for he is not worth anything. He also tells Juan not to tell anybody that he has been with them, for, if he does, they will kill him.

Juan leaves the band of robbers, and decides to live up in a tree, because he is all alone, he says. He takes a low bamboo table and goes up into a very large mango-tree. He chooses a well-hidden place, and there he ties his table firmly to the branches. He spends the day in the neighboring towns looking for food, but at night he comes back to the tree and sleeps there.

Early one morning Juan wakes up and hears faint whispers. He looks down, and sees two men talking very earnestly together. One is carrying a bag of money. Juan loosens his table and lets it fall on the men. It makes a loud crash, and they run away. Juan quickly climbs down the tree and makes off with the bag of money. He now decides to live in town. After he has found a barrio that suits him, he buys a house, a carabao, and a cart. He lives peacefully in his new house. Sometimes he works; but he spends most of his time sleeping, for he is a very lazy fellow.

One morning the capitan of the town sends a town crier around to announce an order to the people. The town crier says, “The capitan orders you all to sprinkle with water the street in front of your houses.” Juan takes a small cocoanut-shell full of water, and goes out and sprinkles the street. In the afternoon the capitan of the town goes about the streets to see if the people have obeyed his orders. He sees that everybody has obeyed him except Juan. He goes to Juan’s house, and asks him why he has not sprinkled the street; and Juan tells him what he has done. The capitan then tells him that he must use much water. As soon as the capitan has left, Juan begins to pour buckets of water on the street. But when the water all flows away, Juan thinks that his irrigation is not good enough: so he takes his cart and carabao, and with their help he digs a large ditch. All night long Juan works filling the ditch with water. The next morning, when the capitan sees the ditch, he becomes very angry, and summons Juan. Juan excuses himself by saying that the laws of the town are not stated clearly. So the capitan has to let Juan go.

When Sunday comes, Juan goes to church. In the pulpit the priest tells the people to put a little cross on their street doors. When Juan goes home, he takes a piece of tinting (the rib of a cocoanut-leaf) and makes a little cross about two inches high. When the priest makes his rounds, he does not see the cross, for it is so small. He asks Juan where his cross is. Juan shows him; and the priest tells him to make a large one, for it is too small, and the evil spirits will not be able to see it. Juan takes his bolo and cuts two long pieces of bamboo. This time his cross is so large, that the priest cannot see it, either. The priest becomes so angry at Juan’s stupidity, that he expels him from the town. Juan good-naturedly goes away. He sells his house, and with his cart and carabao he moves on to another town.

He settles in a barrio where the soil is red. Here he lives several weeks, but he is always longing to go back to his old home. He finally says to himself that he is going there in spite of the anger of the priest. He fills his cart with red earth, and hitches his carabao to it. He sits in the middle of his cart, and slowly drives to the town where he had lived before. As he is driving down the main street in the afternoon, whom should he meet but the priest himself! The priest cries, “Juan, so you are here again! Didn’t I tell you that you must never tread the soil of this town again? If you do not go away, I shall tell the capitan to imprison you.”“Dear priest,” says Juan humbly, “before you accuse me, use your eyes. I am not treading on your soil. This earth which I have in my cart is my own.” The priest looks in the cart. By this time there are many people around them, and they too look in the cart. They laugh at Juan’s wit. The priest wants to laugh too; but he controls himself, for he is afraid that the people will not respect him any more if he laughs. So he angrily threatens Juan, and tells him to leave the town instantly. Poor Juan has nothing to do but go.

He sells his carabao and cart, and spends the money foolishly in the neighboring villages. Soon Juan is reduced to poverty again, so he decides to go back to his native town. There he finds everything changed: the houses are better, and the little chapel is prettier. He looks for relatives or friends, but he finds only his old grandmother, who lives by herself in the field. He goes to her and tells her the history of his family. The old woman recognizes him at last, and asks him if he is not the Juan who buried his mother. Juan answers, “Yes,” but excuses himself by saying that he only obediently followed his mother’s advice.

Juan now stays with his grandmother. Her hut, which is very small, is surrounded by a small garden of vegetables. Juan does nothing but eat and sleep. He soon develops the bad habit of throwing things out of the window. His grandmother tells him that he must throw them far away. One morning the old woman does not find Juan, and he does not appear until midnight. She asks him where he has been, and he tells her that he went to the other side of the mountain to throw away a banana-skin which was left on his plate. She tells him that he does not need to go so far, that he can throw the banana-skins behind the fence.

One day early in the morning the old woman leaves Juan in charge of the house, for she is going to town. She tells him to cook two small measures (chupas) of rice for her, for perhaps she will be very hungry when she gets home. Then she goes away quite happy, thinking that Juan understands her. As soon as she leaves, Juan thinks it is time to begin to cook. He is surprised to find only one measure in the earthen jar. He looks for the other one everywhere; but, as he cannot find it, he thinks his grandmother was mistaken when she told him to cook two measures of rice. So he takes his bolo, goes outside, cuts a piece of bamboo, and makes a wooden measure just like the other one. This takes him a long time; but when he has finished, he fills the two measures with dry rice, and puts them in the fire. While the measures are burning, the grandmother arrives. She calls Juan, and asks him if the rice is ready, for she is very hungry. Juan tells her that it is quite ready. The old woman sees that it is very bright in the house, and she fears that it is on fire. Juan says that it is the two measures burning. When the old woman sees what Juan has done, she becomes angry. However, she controls herself, and teaches Juan how to cook rice. Under the supervision of the old woman, Juan takes an earthen pot, cleans it, and puts rice into it. Then he puts water into the pot, and finally puts the pot on the fire. The old woman goes to rest, telling him to watch the rice. After a while she calls to Juan, and says,

“Did you cover the pot [tinungtungan mo na ang paliok]?”4

“No, I did not,” says Juan.

“Cover the pot, then [tungtungan mo]!” she cries.

“That is impossible,” says Juan.

“Why impossible?” cries the old woman. “The rice will have a smoky taste if you don’t.”

“All right,” says Juan, getting up. He goes to the fireplace and thinks for a little while. Then he jumps up to the rafters of the ceiling, which are but two feet above his head. He goes just above the pot, adjusts his feet very well, and then lets himself fall. The pot is broken to pieces. The old woman wakes up at the noise of the crash, and says, “What is that, Juan? Is the rice cooked?”

“Why do you ask me that?” says Juan impatiently. “You told me to step on the pot, and now you ask me if the rice is cooked!”

She goes out to the kitchen; and when she sees her broken pot, the old woman becomes truly angry. She drives Juan from the house, telling him that he cannot live with her any more because he is too troublesome.

Juan now goes off, and wanders from town to town. Sometimes he is obliged to work in order to get anything to eat. Finally he comes to a large town where the people wear shoes and carry umbrellas. He becomes enchanted with the shoes and umbrellas: so he works hard, and saves enough money to buy both. But he surprises every one who sees him; for he carries his shoes dangling at his belt, and his umbrella closed under his arm. Some of the more curious fellows follow after him. They see that, although it rains or the sun is very hot, Juan never opens his umbrella except when he sits to rest under a tree; and also that he never puts his shoes on when he is on dry land, but only when he is crossing a river. At last they ask him why he does such foolish things. Juan says, “Don’t you know that there are many worms and loose branches in a tree? If, for example, a snake should fall down, well, it would hit my umbrella. As for the shoes, it is better for one to wear his shoes when he crosses a river, for there he cannot see the ground.” The people leave him alone; but some persons think he is wise, and imitate his example.

Juan goes on with his travels. At last he falls in love. He serves the girl’s parents, and becomes their cook. He always keeps the best parts of the chicken for the girl and himself, and gives only the bones to the parents. They ask him why he gives them the worst parts. Juan replies, “I do that because you are our supporters. The bones, compared with a house, are the foundation and framework.” The parents find Juan’s reasoning so good, that they at once marry their daughter to him. After this Juan is a good and sensible fellow, and does not do foolish things any more.

Notes.

This long, loosely-constructed droll is not of any fixed length, according to the narrator; adventures are added or omitted at the caprice of the story-teller. It would be useless to attempt to parallel the tale as a whole, because of the very nature of its composition. The separate incidents, however, we may examine, pointing out analogues already in print, and citing others from my own manuscript collection.

(1) “If it smells bad, it’s dead.” This joke is common among the Tagalogs and Pampangans, and forms the basis of many of their comical stories. As an example I will give the opening of a story entitled “Ricardo and his Adventures” narrated by Paulo Macasaet, a Tagalog from Batangas:—