There once was a boy who grew bored while watching over the village sheep. He wanted to make things more exciting. So, he yelled out that he saw a wolf chasing the sheep. All the villagers came running to drive the wolf away. However, they saw no wolf. The boy was amused, but the villagers were not. They told him not to do it again. Shortly after, he repeated this antic. The villagers came running again, only to find that he was lying. Later that day, the boy really sees a wolf sneaking amongst the flock. He jumped up and called out for help. But no one came this time because they thought he was still joking around. At sunset, the villagers looked for the boy. He had not returned with their sheep. They found him crying. He told them that there really was a wolf, and the entire flock was gone. An old man came to comfort him and told him that nobody would believe a liar even when they are being honest.
Once on a time and twice on a time, and all times together as ever I heard tell of, there was a tiny lassie who would weep all day to have the stars in the sky to play with; she wouldn’t have this, and she wouldn’t have that, but it was always the stars she would have. So one fine day off she went to find them. And she walked and she walked and she walked, till by-and-by she came to a mill-dam.
“Goode’en to ye,” says she, “I’m seeking the stars in the sky to play with. Have you seen any?”
“Oh, yes, my bonnie lassie,” said the mill-dam. “They shine in my own face o’ nights till I can’t sleep for them. Jump in and perhaps you’ll find one.”
So she jumped in, and swam about and swam about and swam about, but ne’er a one could she see. So she went on till she came to a brooklet.
“Goode’en to ye, Brooklet, Brooklet,” says she; “I’m seeking the stars in the sky to play with. Have you seen any?”
“Yes, indeed, my bonny lassie,” said the Brooklet. “They glint on my banks at night. Paddle about, and maybe you’ll find one.”
So she paddled and she paddled and she paddled, but ne’er a one did she find. So on she went till she came to the Good Folk.
“Goode’en to ye, Good Folk,” says she; “I’m looking for the stars in the sky to play with. Have ye seen e’er a one?”
“Why, yes, my bonny lassie,” said the Good Folk. “They shine on the grass here o’ night. Dance with us, and maybe you’ll find one.”
And she danced and she danced and she danced, but ne’er a one did she see. So down she sate; I suppose she wept.
“Oh dearie me, oh dearie me,” says she, “I’ve swam and I’ve paddled and I’ve danced, and if ye’ll not help me I shall never find the stars in the sky to play with.”
But the Good Folk whispered together, and one of them came up to her and took her by the hand and said, “If you won’t go home to your mother, go forward, go forward; mind you take the right road. Ask Four Feet to carry you to No Feet at all, and tell No Feet at all to carry you to the stairs without steps, and if you can climb that—”
