The Story of Seppy Who Wished to Manage His Own House
Seppy and Bella lived together in a very small house. There was only one
room, which served as kitchen, bedroom, and stable for the animals.
All they possessed was a pig, a cow, and some hens. The pig lay on some
straw between two stakes in one corner of the room, the cow was tied up
to a wooden trough in another corner, the hens roosted on the rafters.
It was not a happy household; quarrels were frequent, and Seppy was
always finding fault with Bella. When he came in from his work at midday
the potatoes were either too hot or too cold, the soup too thick or too
thin, and he reproached Bella bitterly, declaring that she lived a life
of idleness, while he worked like a slave in the fields.
These scenes became so frequent that Bella grew tired of this
cat-and-dog life.
One day, when he began to grumble as usual, she defied him, insisting
that the next morning they should change places: she would go to work
like a slave in the fields, while he should stay at home to do the
cooking. “He will soon see,” she said, “that when all the work has been
done properly, there is no time for twiddling one’s thumbs.”
Very early next morning Bella started off with a sack and a scythe to
cut grass for the animals.
Seppy remained at home and took off his coat, saying to himself, “I will
show her how clever I am.”
It was a Wednesday, the day for butter-making. Seppy put the churn on
the three-legged stool in the middle of the room, poured in the milk,
and began to churn gaily. He heard the milk beating against the sides of
the churn, and whistled happily as he worked.
Presently he heard the stout village priest tramping up the road. He
stopped at Seppy’s cottage, put his head in at the door and asked for a
glass of water, being very hot and red in the face from having walked so
far.
“Water is very dangerous; wouldn’t you rather have a small jug of beer?”
said Seppy. He left the churn and went to the beer-barrel which stood on
three bricks in a corner of the room, as far as possible from the fire.
The barrel had not been tapped. Seppy found the key and set about
piercing the bung, using his shoe instead of a hammer. He gave such a
heavy blow that he pierced right through the barrel. The beer ran all
over the floor. However, the priest had a glass, and, much refreshed, he
wished Seppy good day and went on his way.
“It is too bad to lose all this beer,” said Seppy. He turned the empty
barrel on end, mopped up the beer with a cloth and squeezed it into the
barrel, and so succeeded in saving a little.
Meanwhile the pig, attracted by the smell of the beer, set to work to
lap it up greedily until he could not swallow another drop.
Seppy was very angry with the pig and gave him a blow, but as it showed
no inclination to lie down, he hit it so hard that it rushed out of the
door and fell into the well. Now the well was very deep, and Seppy tried
to drag the pig out, but in vain, and it was drowned.
“The beer is spilt and the pig is drowned,” thought Seppy; “if any
misfortune overtakes the cow, or I fail to churn the milk into butter, I
shall be for ever disgraced in Bella’s eyes.”
He then remembered that the cow had had nothing to eat, and that he had
to prepare the soup before Bella came back. “Now I’m going to work
methodically,” he said; “I will hang the stock-pot over the fire, then
take Molly to graze in the field, and then finish making the butter.”
The fire soon burnt up. When he led the cow outside he couldn’t find any
grass near the house, but he saw some growing on the roof! Choosing the
spot where the roof sloped very low, he succeeded after frantic efforts
in hoisting Molly on to the roof. He was re-entering the house when it
occurred to him that Molly might slip off the roof into the well and be
drowned. He went to the well, cut the rope off the bucket and tied it
round the cow’s horns, throwing the other end down the chimney. He then
ran into the house, caught the end of the rope and tied it round his
leg.
“Now,” he said, “the cow cannot escape however much she may want to, and
Seppy will have made the butter and soup before midday.”
The cream again lashed the sides of the churn, but Seppy had no longer
the heart to sing; he was thinking about the spilt beer and the poor
drowned pig.
Meanwhile the cow grazed on the roof. The earth not being very firm, she gradually slipped to the edge of the sloping roof.
Suddenly, alackaday! she rolled off. As the result of her fall, Seppy
was drawn up the chimney, where the soup was boiling over the fire.
Poor Seppy hung head downwards as far up the chimney as Molly was off
the roof. To add to his misfortunes he had overturned the stool on which
stood the churn, and so upset all the cream over the floor.
When Bella came home at midday, the first thing that met her eye was the
cow, which being half strangled was dying outside the door. She quickly
cut the rope with her scythe. Imagine her horror when on entering the
cottage she found her husband hanging head downwards, dipping into the
stock-pot.
Seppy never grumbled again. From henceforth Bella busied herself with
her household duties. Seppy worked in the fields as before.
Seppy said to the pots, he said to the pans,
And likewise to the stools,
That men who try to do women’s work
Are all a parcel of fools.