The Mare's Egg

Dunnamany year ago, two chaps what had come from Lunnon - a pleace where all de men be as wise as owls - met a h'old Sussex man what was doddling along a road near his village wid a pumpkin near his arm. An' dese teo Lunnon chaps didn't know what dis pumpkin was, as dey had never sin de loikes of un afore. So one on 'em says to de other, he says,

'Let's see what dis here ol 'fellow’s got under 'is arm'.

So dey goos up to un an 'says,

‘Good marnin’, mister,’ dey says.

‘Good marnin’, ‘says de ol’chap, friendly-like.

‘What be dat under yer arm?’ says de Lunnoners.

‘Dat be a mare’s egg,’ says de ol’man.

‘Dat so?’ says de Lunnoners, believin’un loike lambs. ‘We’ve never sin one so foine afore’.

‘Yes,’ says de ol’chap, ‘dere be a mort o’common ones arouon’, but dis ‘ere one be a thoroughbred, an’ dat’s why ‘tis so gurt an’ foine.’

‘Will you sell un?’ says de Lunnoners.

‘Wall,’ says de ol’ chap, hesitating-like, ‘I don’t mind if I do, only I be dubbersome if you’ll gi’me what I wants for un; I ain’t a mind to take less dan a golden sovrin’fur dis ‘ere thoroughbred mare’s egg.’

So after dunnamuch talk dese ‘ere Lunnon chaps dey gi’ un what he axed, an’so he guv ‘em de pumpkin, an’ he says,

‘Mind ye carry it careful,’he says, ‘cos ‘twill hatch pretty soon, I rackon.’

‘All right,’ says de Lunnoners, ‘we’ll be careful.’

So off dey goos over de fields wud de mare’s egg; and prensley him what was a-carryin’ of it ketches hisfoot in a hole in de groun’so dat he dropped de pumpkin all of a sudden, an’ dat starts a hare from de bushes, so dat it rip-an’-run down the hill. De chaps was dat vlothered dat dey was sure dat de mare’s egg was hatched, so dey shouts out to some men what was workin’ at the bottom of de hill,

‘Hi! Stop our colt! Stop our colt!’

But it never was caught.

Wales

Yr hen wr tlwyd o'r cornel,

Gan ei dad a glywod chwedel,

A chan ei dad fe glywod yntau

Ac ar ei ol mi gofiais innau.

The old grey man in the corner

From his father heard a tale,

Which from his father he had heard,

And after them I recalled.

The Midlands

The Boogies an' the Salt-Box*

(an extract)

"Behappen yo never 'eard the tale about the Salt-Box. Well, yo sin, theer wuz wunst some folks o' the nam o' Runnels as lived at the Gorsty Bonk, an' they'd 'n a rar' good farm, an' the 'ouse wuz a nancient owd place, as 'ad bin a fine mansion or summat o' that I'some king’s reign.

But the wurst on it wuz as it wuz 'aunted ooth sperrits, or boogies, or whadever you callen 'em, an 'they wun like a lickle own mon an 'ooman, an' the Runnellses wun plegged to djeth ooth 'em, for they wun al 'ays prancin’ about the 'ouse an' the fowd an 'the filds an 'everyw'eer, an' nuthin couldna stond nor rest for 'em, an' they wun on iverlastin'. An' they couldna get shet on 'em no road.

They fetched the parson to 'em wunst; but they didna mind 'im, an' maden all manner o'game on 'im, an 'I think as a wuz fritten'd at 'em.

So at last they wun gotten so bad as the Runnellses couldna put up ooth 'em noo lunger; so they maded up thar minds to goo an'live at a smaller farm a good way off, an'try an' o 'erget the boogies.

So they gotten thar tings away a feow at a time, as they coulden, onknowens to the owd mon an 'ooman; till at last one night they gotten right clier off, an'lef the boogies I'the empy 'ouse. So atter they wun come to the new place, they fel'en fine an 'glad as they wun got out on 'em so well, an' begunnen to onload an fettle up a bit. <...>"

/* Boogie is the hob-goblin or mischievous household sprite/

Scotland