"I gave it up because he said that he would kill me if I didn't."

Then the old woman said, "Take this cane with you, and whenever you see him, let it loose and p.r.o.nounce these words:--

"'Sigue garrote, sigue garrote, [86]

Strike that fellow over there!'

"When you want the cane to stop, all you need to say is--

"'Stop, stop, For that is enough!'"

The boy then said, "Is that all?"

"After you have recovered your money," said the old woman, "you must turn back here; but you had better hurry up now."

Cecilio then bade the old woman good-by, and at once ran away to overtake the man who had robbed him. When he saw the man, he said, "Give me back my money, or else you now shall die, and not I!"

The man laughed at him, and said, "Of course I shall not give you back your money."

When he heard these words, the boy said, "Is that so?" and, letting go of his cane, he uttered the formula that the old woman had told him to p.r.o.nounce. The cane at once began to rain blows on the stranger's head and body. When he could no longer endure the blows, and saw that he could not catch the stick, the man said, "If you will call off your cane, I will return your purse."

"Very well, I will pardon you," said Cecilio; "but if you had treated me as you should have treated me and others, you would not have been harmed." Then he said to the cane,--

"Stop, stop, For that is enough!"

At once the magic stick stopped, and returned to its owner. The money was given back, and the man promised Cecilio that he would not rob any poor boy again.

On his way back toward the old woman, Cecilio met another man who wanted to rob him; but the boy said, "Don't you dare attempt to take my purse, or you will get yourself into trouble!" The man became angry, and rushed at Cecilio to knock him down; but the boy p.r.o.nounced the words which the old woman had taught him, and let the cane loose. The cane at once began to rain blows on the man's head and body. When he could no longer endure the pain, the man asked Cecilio's pardon. As the youth was kind-hearted, he forgave the man.

When he reached the old woman's house, Cecilio told her that the cane had been very useful to him, for it had saved both his life and his money. Then he returned the stick to the old woman, and thanked her very much. She now offered to sell him a guitar which she had, the price of which was five hundred centavos. Since she had been so good to him, Cecilio at once agreed to the exchange; and after he had once more bade her good-by, he set out for his master's house.

When he came near his old home, Cecilio saw his master Emilio shooting at a very handsome bird on the top of a bamboo-tree. The bird fell down, and the man ran to pick it up. As Emilio was making his way up to the bird through the th.o.r.n.y bamboo undergrowth, Cecilio sat down to wait for him, and, having nothing else to do, began to play his guitar. The master at once began to dance among the bamboo-trees, and he received many wounds because of the sharp spines. Now, in reality, the boy was playing his guitar unintentionally, and did not know of its magic power; but Emilio thought that Cecilio had discovered the deceit that had been practised on him, and was playing for revenge. Now, it happened that Emilio had a purse of money with him to give to the laborers working in his hacienda, so he promised to give all this money to Cecilio if he would only stop playing. The boy, who had by this time learned of the magic power of his guitar, stopped his music and received the money.

The crafty Emilio, however, at once hastened to the town, and asked the magistrate to apprehend Cecilio, a young robber. Cecilio set out for the old woman's house again; but the policemen soon overtook him, arrested him, and took him before the magistrate. There the boy was sentenced to death the next morning. Emilio's money was given back to him. The following day, when he was about to be shot, Cecilio asked permission to play his guitar once more, and he was not refused it. As soon as he began to play, all began to dance, even his master, who was still sore from the previous day's exercise. Finally Emilio could endure no more. He begged Cecilio to stop playing, and promised to give him all his wealth. He then told the soldiers to set the boy free, for it was all his own fault. Cecilio stopped playing, and was liberated by the magistrate. Emilio kept his word, and bestowed on the boy all his wealth. When the old man died, Cecilio was the richest man in the town. He became a capitan, [87] and was greatly honored by the inhabitants of his barrio.

Notes.

A Tagalog variant of this story by the same narrator may be given here in abstract. While this briefer form seems to bear evidence of some contamination with the tale of "Cecilio," each, nevertheless, preserves characteristics lacking in the other; and again, while the two seem to be more or less distinct versions, there can be no doubt that they go back to the same original. The t.i.tle of the variant is "The Fortunes of Andoy, an Orphan." In abstract it runs thus:--

Once a poor orphan named Andoy, while taking a walk, found a purse. On his way home he met a man who, without a word, took the purse from him. The boy beginning to cry, the man had pity on him, and returned the purse, keeping only a few coins for himself. Andoy next met two hunters, who robbed him; but these men had not gone far when two genuine robbers met them, and a fight ensued in which all four were killed. When Andoy heard the noise of the struggle, he ran to see what was happening. He found hunters and robbers dead; so he recovered his purse and went on. Not long afterward he met a hermit, who sold him a magic cane. The next man he encountered was looking for a purse he had lost in the road, and, when he saw Andoy's, took it without a word; but the money did not really belong to this man. The boy immediately turned his cane loose on his a.s.sailant, who, after being badly beaten, confessed that the purse was not his, and promised Andoy half his wealth if he would call off his stick. The rich man kept his word; and when he died, Andoy received his entire fortune.

Another variant, which was collected by Mr. R. L. Rusk of Indiana University, and which I have only in abstract, is called "Peter the Violinist." It runs thus:--

Peter, a lazy ne'er-do-well, ran away from home, leaving his parents to die of grief. For being kind to a sick "old woman" he was given a magic violin. Soon after, he was arrested for climbing into a house at night. When he was about to be hanged for a thief, he was granted a last request. He asked to be allowed to play his favorite piece on his violin. As soon as he began, every one commenced to dance. He continued, and all cried out for him to stop; but he would not cease until they pardoned him and promised to make him king besides.

The history of the cycle of tales to which our story and the two variants belong has been traced briefly in Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 491-503. The earliest forms of the Marchen are the Middle-English poems of the fifteenth century ent.i.tled "Jack and his Step-Dame" and "The Frere and the Boye."

Here the hero is Jack, who is hated by his step-mother. Since his father is not willing to turn him out of the house altogether, the step-mother manages to bring it about that Jack is set to watch the cattle, and she allows him only rotten food. An old man with whom he shares his victuals grants him three wishes in return for his kindness. He asks for a bow and a fife; and the old man gives him a bow that never misses its aim, and a fife that compels every one to dance. He also grants Jack's third wish, that every time his step-mother hurls a bad word at him or about him, she shall give forth another noise not permitted in polite society. When this happens that evening at home to the amus.e.m.e.nt of all, the step-mother plans to send the monk Tobias into the field the next day to punish Jack. However, Jack asks the monk to fetch from the brambles a bird which he has shot, and then he begins to play dance-music for the monk. All scratched and b.l.o.o.d.y, Tobias returns home. That night the father calls his son to account; but he is so pleased at the effects of the magic fife, that he decides not to punish the boy. The official, too, the bishop's agent, at whose court the next Friday step-mother and monk bring charges of witchcraft against Jack, has to hear the fife, and is obliged to dance until he promises to let Jack go unpunished.

The English story seems to have pa.s.sed over into Holland, where in 1528 a Dutch form appeared, with some additions. A most significant modification appears in a German handling of the Dutch form, by Dieterich Albrecht in 1599:--

Here the hero is not a cowherd plagued by his malicious step-mother, but a simple-minded servant who serves an avaricious master for three years and receives as pay three pfennigs for the whole time. Pleased with his earnings, however, he goes away singing. When he meets two beggars who ask him for alms, he gives them his three coins. They grant him three wishes in return for his goodness; and he gets a "never-miss" crossbow, a magic fiddle that makes all dance, and the promise that no one shall ever be able to deny him a request. By a lake he meets a monk, who jeers at his shooting-ability, and undertakes, if the youth can bring down a raven there on the island, to swim over naked and fetch the bird. Soon, however, the monk regrets his bargain, for the crossbow does not miss. While the monk stands naked in the bushes on the island, the boy begins to fiddle. Wailing and moaning, the ecclesiastic promises the youth the hundred ducats that he has stolen from the monastery, and he is now permitted to return and get his clothes. But he treacherously follows the youth, lodges a complaint against him with the council of the nearest city, and succeeds in getting him condemned. When the youth is already on the gallows ladder, he requests the judge to allow him to play just one more song; and he makes all those present dance so violently, that the judge agrees to pardon him if he will only cease playing. Then the monk confesses his own theft and deceit, and receives his deserved punishment.

In this version, as Bolte and Polivka note (2 : 493), the chief deviations from the English-Dutch form of the story are the omission of the step-mother role, the nature of the third wish, and the modification of the character of the monk, who, from a mere tool of the step-mother, has here developed into a thieving rascal. A Czech redaction (1604) of the German poem subst.i.tutes for the runaway monk a Jew. This subst.i.tution is also found in the German prose tale "Von Knecht Treurecht" (about 1690).

Of the modern oral folk-versions of the story, some are based on the Middle-English droll; but by far the larger number omit the hostile step-mother, and retain only the dance of the monk or the Jew and the scene at the gallows. For a complete list of stories of this second type, see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 495-501. All the variants, both literary and popular, cited in this bibliography, are Occidental; and we must inevitably conclude that the story was imported into the Philippines some time during the Spanish occupation of the Islands. Some rather important differences are presented by our versions, however; and these we shall call attention to briefly, first mentioning the details that definitely connect our forms with the European.

The opening of the story of "Cecilio" is like that of Albrecht's, given above. Our hero works four years for a cruel master, and receives five hundred centavos as pay,--a sum with which he is more than satisfied. At this point our story digresses. After two adventures with robbers, in the first of which he recovers his money by a lucky accident (this incident is considerably elaborated in the variant), he meets an old woman who lends him a magic cane, and with its help he is able to regain his money from a second robber. This feature of the magic beating-stick seems to be borrowed from the preceding story. He now returns the cane to the old woman, and she sells him a magic guitar. The next adventure--with his former master, who is subst.i.tuted for the knavish monk--contains a distorted reminiscence of the shooting of the bird, and ends with the dance among the thorns (here bamboo-spines). The hero is bought off by his master, who immediately rushes to town and accuses him of theft. The rest is practically as in Albrecht.

While our version introduces two magic articles, it can be seen that the first does not properly belong to the story. The "three-wishes" incident, and accordingly the third wish itself, is lacking altogether. A rather artistic attempt to unify the story as a whole is the subst.i.tution of the rascally master introduced in the beginning of the story, for the knavish monk or Jew later on; though it is to be noticed that the narrator falls to motivate the hero's return to the house that he had apparently left for good when he was paid off. The episode of the shooting is obscure, and appears to be only a vague echo of the detail definitely connected with one of the three gifts in some of the European literary forms. Again, in "Cecilio"

the musical instrument is a guitar instead of the usual violin or fife; while in the variant "Andoy" the magic cane is the only enchanted object, no musical instrument appearing at all. The episode of the two robbers killing each other over the treasure (paralleled in "Andoy,"

where two robbers fight with two hunters, and all four are killed) is an interesting addition, the source of which I am unable to point out. It may be derived from some moral tale related in kind to the "Vedabbha-jataka," No. 48; "Cento Novelle Antiche," No. 82; Morlini, No. 42; Chaucer's "Pardoner's Tale," etc.; although the characteristic treachery emphasized in those stories is lacking here. The incident is not found in other versions of our tale that I know of.

I am unable to name the immediate source of our story of "Cecilio"

and of the two variants; though, as has been remarked above, it was pretty certainly European. None of the three seems to owe anything in particular to the Spanish ballad printed in the "Romancero General,"

No. 1265, which Bolte and Polivka think is based directly on Grimm, No. 110. The local modifications in our story, and the definite native atmosphere maintained throughout, suggest that it is not a recent importation.

An interesting animal version from South Africa, containing the magic bow and magic fiddle, is given by Hone (p. 14), "The Monkey's Fiddle."

This story was doubtless taken over by the natives from the Dutch.

TALE 29

CHONGUITA.

Narrated by Pilar Ejercito, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. She heard the story from her aunt, who had heard it when she was still a little girl.

There was a king who had three sons, named Pedro, Diego, and Juan. One day the king ordered these three gentlemen to set out from the kingdom and seek their fortunes. The three brothers took different directions, but before they separated they agreed to meet in a certain place in the forest.

After walking for many days, Don Juan met an old man on the road. This old man gave Don Juan bread, and told him to go to a palace which was a mile away. "But as you enter the gate," said the old man, "you must divide the bread which I have given you among the monkeys which are guarding the gate to the palace; otherwise you will not be able to enter."

Don Juan took the bread; and when he reached the palace, he did as the old man had advised him. After entering the gate, he saw a big monkey. Frightened at the sight of the animal, Don Juan was about to tun away, when the animal called to him, and said, "Don Juan, I know that your purpose in coming here was to find your fortune; and at this very moment my daughter Chonguita will marry you." The archbishop of the monkeys was called, and Don Juan and Chonguita were married without delay.

A few days afterwards Don Juan asked permission from his wife to go to the place where he and his brothers had agreed to meet. When Chonguita's mother heard that Don Juan was going away, she said to him, "If you are going away, take Chonguita with you." Although Don Juan was ashamed to go with Chonguita because she was a monkey, he was forced to take her, and they set out together. When Don Juan met his two brothers and their beautiful wives at the appointed place, he could not say a word. Don Diego, noticing the gloomy appearance of his brother, said, "What is the matter with you? Where is your wife, Don Juan?"

Don Juan sadly replied, "Here she is."