Come and sit down, child. Sit you in the warmth of my cheery fire's glow! Sit on my blackened hearthstones, as I tell you my tale: The Tale Of The Lad Who Wasn't Merry, And Who Met A Girl To Prove His Love Upon, And Was Tasked With A Quest, And Fought A Giant, And Died; His Name Was Billtholomew.
Once in a great long while ago, in a quiet country village on the outskirts of the Ancient Yulby Forest, tucked into the Country of Tisovthy, across the Low Sea from the Kingdom of Orientar, there lived a lad who wasn't merry, who simply refused to be merry. His name was Billtholomew, but this was not the trouble. Nobody knew what the trouble was. Nobody could puzzle it out.
"Billtholomew, what would it take for you to be merry?" his dear Mother pled.
"Nothing, Mother, but to meet a girl upon whom to prove my love!" Billtholomew replied.
"Billtholomew, tell us - why will you not be merry? What would it take for you to be merry?" his dear Papa plied.
"Nothing Papa, but to meet a girl upon whom I could prove my love!" Billtholomew stalwartly maintained.
"Mama, what will we do with the boy?" said Papa, later, when Billtholomew was out of earshot, shucking cows for the tallow-mill. "It's a mystery, Papa," she wisely replied. "Who knows what ails him - or when the cloud of unmerriment will lift from his brow?"
"He's such a clean-featured boy," Papa frowned. "It would be a shame to see his brow thicken with heaviness, all over this lack of merriment!" "Indeed it would, Papa," Mother sighed. A Mother's sigh over her son who will not be merry is a heartbreaking sigh!
But no one could figure out what to do with the lad. It was a bit of a puzzle.
One day a young lady came to the village, or maybe she lived on the other side, or had previously been kept indoors, and this was just the first time Billtholomew had seen her. His eyes gaped. She carried a wide wicker basket spilling over with wildflowers, with violet and honeysuckle. Billtholomew ran to present himself before her. It was only about ten steps, yet he had to catch his breath!
"I," he swept off his rather florid hat with a gallant gesture and a half-bow, "am called Billtholomew" he panted.
"Hello, Billtholomew," she smiled shyly, but possibly also with another meaning or feeling that was hard to guess, or so Billtholomew suspected at any rate. "I am Claritha."
Billtholomew hesitated. "Clarissa?"
She glared back: "Claritha!"
"A thousand pardons! Claritha! For my whole life - or since, you know, past a certain point, when I began to understand certain things and be confused by other things - I have longed for one thing and one thing only: a girl upon whom I could prove my love!" He announced this as something terribly important. His eyes looked at her with extra emphasis.
"Oh?" replied Claritha.
"Um. Yes," continued Billtholomew, "and never before have I been so smitten and besotted and struck with awe and thunder! Your sweetness, your charms, your general deportment has convinced me that you are the girl upon whom I can prove my love - if only you will say you will give me a chance to do so!"
"Ah." Claritha mused.
"Oh, say that you will give me a chance! I will attempt anything even unto death! Let the proof be in the test!" Billtholomew said, feeling as though he had made a pretty decent case of it.
"Very well," Claritha began, "I task you with this quest: take with you only an oaken cudgel, a burlap purse filled with dry hard cheese, seven coins of your choosing, and a flower from my basket - choose wisely!"
As she was speaking, Billtholomew had already gathered all the other items in a flash. He looked over her flowers and pulled out a long purple one, with blooms like bells all down its dark green stalk. "This thing!" he said, proudly.
"Well-chosen. Now, fortified as you are, go North along the edge of the Ancient Yulby Forest. Take the Giant-Guarded Road to Yon Tower, the abode of the Wizard Jathper. He is my father. You must give him whatever he asks, and he will set before you three orbs - a red orb, a black orb, and a blue orb - in which you will see three possible futures. I can guide you no further - now go!"
Billtholomew started like a shot, and raced North. He raced facing backwards at first, blowing kisses and vows back towards sweet Claritha, who waved. Once she was out of sight, Billtholomew reluctantly spun to face forward, and ran all the harder. He ran through the whole village, and the last cottage he passed was his own dear home. "Why Papa," Mother cried. "Our own dear Billtholomew just raced by the West-facing window, stern of visage as always, but with a spring in his step that was jaunty, if not quite merry!" Papa popped his head out the North-facing window and said, "Why Mother, it's a miracle!"
Billtholomew ran and ran, until he was out of sight of the village. He ran North. Soon he saw a small man on the horizon, standing in the middle of the road with hands on hips. On Billtholomew ran, on and on. Soon the man was quite large, then presently he was enormous. As Billtholomew drew within an hundred paces, he was positively knocked backwards sprawling by a sour, sulky bellowing roar from the giant: "SAY, BUB! WHAT'S THE RUSH?" But this was only the giant's normal speaking voice.
"Beware, noble giant," said Billtholomew doubtfully, gingerly arising, dusting himself off. "I am on a quest to prove my love to the daughter of yon wizard Jathper in Yon Tower! I want no trouble, but I won't be hindered!" Billtholomew's hand stroked his oaken cudgel, unwisely.
"FIRST," The giant sniffed, "IT'S 'JASPER' - DON'T LET HIM HEAR YOU SAYING 'JATHPER'!"
"Oh wow," said Billtholomew. "Thanks! I almost walked right into it."
"SECOND - NOT SO FAST! THIS IS THE GIANT-GUARDED ROAD. I SAY WHO GOES, AND WHO GOES NO FURTHER!" And, somewhat distractedly, as if an afterthought, he added: "YOU GO NO FURTHER."
Billtholomew's brow thickened with disappointed fury. Just when he thought maybe this giant could be an ally on his quest! He steeled himself: "Then we fight! I see you, too, have an oaken cudgel. It's only fair to warn you - I'm the finest oaken cudgelist in the entire village!"
"FIRST, YOU'RE NOT IN THE VILLAGE," the giant observed, sagely. "SECOND, YOURS IS A CUDGEL. MINE'S AN OAK. BUT AS YOU WISH - 'EN GARDE'!" The giant struck a grotesque parody of a fencing pose, and lunged and shuffled forward. The ground shook to the ungainly footwork accompanying his passes, feints and parries!
Billtholomew jumped back into his own stance, drawing forth his oaken cudgel with a jerk, and brandished it meaningfully. "So be it!"
Once in a great long while ago, in a quiet country village on the outskirts of the Ancient Yulby Forest, tucked into the Country of Tisovthy, across the Low Sea from the Kingdom of Orientar, there lived a lad who wasn't merry, who simply refused to be merry. His name was Billtholomew, but this was not the trouble. Nobody knew what the trouble was. Nobody could puzzle it out.
"Billtholomew, what would it take for you to be merry?" his dear Mother pled.
"Nothing, Mother, but to meet a girl upon whom to prove my love!" Billtholomew replied.
"Billtholomew, tell us - why will you not be merry? What would it take for you to be merry?" his dear Papa plied.
"Nothing Papa, but to meet a girl upon whom I could prove my love!" Billtholomew stalwartly maintained.
"Mama, what will we do with the boy?" said Papa, later, when Billtholomew was out of earshot, shucking cows for the tallow-mill. "It's a mystery, Papa," she wisely replied. "Who knows what ails him - or when the cloud of unmerriment will lift from his brow?"
"He's such a clean-featured boy," Papa frowned. "It would be a shame to see his brow thicken with heaviness, all over this lack of merriment!" "Indeed it would, Papa," Mother sighed. A Mother's sigh over her son who will not be merry is a heartbreaking sigh!
But no one could figure out what to do with the lad. It was a bit of a puzzle.
One day a young lady came to the village, or maybe she lived on the other side, or had previously been kept indoors, and this was just the first time Billtholomew had seen her. His eyes gaped. She carried a wide wicker basket spilling over with wildflowers, with violet and honeysuckle. Billtholomew ran to present himself before her. It was only about ten steps, yet he had to catch his breath!
"I," he swept off his rather florid hat with a gallant gesture and a half-bow, "am called Billtholomew" he panted.
"Hello, Billtholomew," she smiled shyly, but possibly also with another meaning or feeling that was hard to guess, or so Billtholomew suspected at any rate. "I am Claritha."
Billtholomew hesitated. "Clarissa?"
She glared back: "Claritha!"
"A thousand pardons! Claritha! For my whole life - or since, you know, past a certain point, when I began to understand certain things and be confused by other things - I have longed for one thing and one thing only: a girl upon whom I could prove my love!" He announced this as something terribly important. His eyes looked at her with extra emphasis.
"Oh?" replied Claritha.
"Um. Yes," continued Billtholomew, "and never before have I been so smitten and besotted and struck with awe and thunder! Your sweetness, your charms, your general deportment has convinced me that you are the girl upon whom I can prove my love - if only you will say you will give me a chance to do so!"
"Ah." Claritha mused.
"Oh, say that you will give me a chance! I will attempt anything even unto death! Let the proof be in the test!" Billtholomew said, feeling as though he had made a pretty decent case of it.
"Very well," Claritha began, "I task you with this quest: take with you only an oaken cudgel, a burlap purse filled with dry hard cheese, seven coins of your choosing, and a flower from my basket - choose wisely!"
As she was speaking, Billtholomew had already gathered all the other items in a flash. He looked over her flowers and pulled out a long purple one, with blooms like bells all down its dark green stalk. "This thing!" he said, proudly.
"Well-chosen. Now, fortified as you are, go North along the edge of the Ancient Yulby Forest. Take the Giant-Guarded Road to Yon Tower, the abode of the Wizard Jathper. He is my father. You must give him whatever he asks, and he will set before you three orbs - a red orb, a black orb, and a blue orb - in which you will see three possible futures. I can guide you no further - now go!"
Billtholomew started like a shot, and raced North. He raced facing backwards at first, blowing kisses and vows back towards sweet Claritha, who waved. Once she was out of sight, Billtholomew reluctantly spun to face forward, and ran all the harder. He ran through the whole village, and the last cottage he passed was his own dear home. "Why Papa," Mother cried. "Our own dear Billtholomew just raced by the West-facing window, stern of visage as always, but with a spring in his step that was jaunty, if not quite merry!" Papa popped his head out the North-facing window and said, "Why Mother, it's a miracle!"
Billtholomew ran and ran, until he was out of sight of the village. He ran North. Soon he saw a small man on the horizon, standing in the middle of the road with hands on hips. On Billtholomew ran, on and on. Soon the man was quite large, then presently he was enormous. As Billtholomew drew within an hundred paces, he was positively knocked backwards sprawling by a sour, sulky bellowing roar from the giant: "SAY, BUB! WHAT'S THE RUSH?" But this was only the giant's normal speaking voice.
"Beware, noble giant," said Billtholomew doubtfully, gingerly arising, dusting himself off. "I am on a quest to prove my love to the daughter of yon wizard Jathper in Yon Tower! I want no trouble, but I won't be hindered!" Billtholomew's hand stroked his oaken cudgel, unwisely.
"FIRST," The giant sniffed, "IT'S 'JASPER' - DON'T LET HIM HEAR YOU SAYING 'JATHPER'!"
"Oh wow," said Billtholomew. "Thanks! I almost walked right into it."
"SECOND - NOT SO FAST! THIS IS THE GIANT-GUARDED ROAD. I SAY WHO GOES, AND WHO GOES NO FURTHER!" And, somewhat distractedly, as if an afterthought, he added: "YOU GO NO FURTHER."
Billtholomew's brow thickened with disappointed fury. Just when he thought maybe this giant could be an ally on his quest! He steeled himself: "Then we fight! I see you, too, have an oaken cudgel. It's only fair to warn you - I'm the finest oaken cudgelist in the entire village!"
"FIRST, YOU'RE NOT IN THE VILLAGE," the giant observed, sagely. "SECOND, YOURS IS A CUDGEL. MINE'S AN OAK. BUT AS YOU WISH - 'EN GARDE'!" The giant struck a grotesque parody of a fencing pose, and lunged and shuffled forward. The ground shook to the ungainly footwork accompanying his passes, feints and parries!
Billtholomew jumped back into his own stance, drawing forth his oaken cudgel with a jerk, and brandished it meaningfully. "So be it!"
~ To Be Continued! ~
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