As she cannot find a buyer for the hen, she goes
back to the butcher, who treats her to so much brandy that she gets
dead-drunk, and in this condition the butcher tars and feathers her.
When she awakes, she fancies that she must be some strange bird, and
cries out, "Is this me, or is it not me? I'll go home, and if our dog
barks, then it is not me." Thus far we have a variant of our favourite
nursery rhyme:
There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,
She went to market her eggs for to sell;
She went to market, all on a market-day,
And she fell asleep on the king's highway.
There came a pedlar, whose name was Stout,
He cut her petticoats all round about;
He cut her petticoats up to the knees,
Which made the old woman to shiver and freeze.
When the little woman first did wake,
She began to shiver and she began to shake;
She began to wonder, and she began to cry,
"Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I!"
"But if this be I, as I do hope it be,
I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me;
If it be I, he'll wag his little tail,
And if it be not I, he loudly bark and wail."
Home went the little woman all in the dark,
Up got the little dog, and began to bark;
He began to bark, and she began to cry,
"Lauk-a-mercy on me, this can't be I!"
To return to the Norse tale. As in our nursery rhyme, when the goody
reaches home, the dog barks at her; then she goes to the calves' house,
but the calves, having sniffed the tar with which she was smeared, turn
away from her in disgust.
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