Foul-Weather — a tale from Cornwall

Press, 20 February 1979, Page 16

Foul-Weather — a tale from Cornwall

Once upon a time there was a king in a far-away country who was determined to build a cathedral. He wanted it to be the most beautiful cathedral in his kingdom. He drew up a magnificent plan and hired a skilful team of workmen. However, by the time the foundations were laid, he had used up all the gold in his coffers. He did not know how he could finish the cathedral without taxing his people heavily; and he felt very sad. One day, as he was out alone on the mountainside wondering what yvas to be done, he met a strange little man. “What is the matter?” the little man asked him. “You seem mighty worried.” “And why shouldn’t I be,” replied the king. “I have started building a beautiful cathedral but I have no money left to finish it.” 3 “You shouldn’t be upset on that account,” said the little man. “I will build you a fine, fair church, better than any in the kingdom, and without asking you for a single piece of geld.” “What do you want • from me then?” asked the king. . “If you can tell me my name by the time the church is built,” said the wee man, “I shall do it for nothing. But, if you do not guess my name correctly, I will take your

heart instead.” The king knew then that the mannikin was a gnome of the Mountain. But, he thought, I probably won’t live long enough to see such a huge church completed: and if I’m dead I don’t much care what happens to my heart. So he agreed to the little man’s suggestion. Next morning, when the king awoke, he saw to his astonishment that .the cathedral had risen as if by magic. And he learned that crowds of gnomes had toiled at it all night. Hastily he requested that another spire be added. For he knew that he must delay the completion of the cathedral until, he knew the name of the little man. I Is it “Broadbent, Jackbow, or Proudfoot?” he asked the mannikin. “Is it Harry, Brownbeard, or Nick?” But the gnome shook his head each time 1 and said, “No. That is not my name.” “Then your name must be Jacob, Thorn, or Hugo”, the king said. “Or perhaps you’re called “Fiddleberry, or maybe Grumple or Zanzo?” “Nc,” said the little man again. “Those are not my names.” The king was puzzled, and before he went to bed he asked the wisest men in the land of lists of names. The next morning he rode out on his horse to look for the little man and saw that the gnome workers had again been

busy in the night and added a second spire to the cathedral. He had to think immediately of other additions for it. He knew the mannikin would demand his heart as soon as the work was finished. Every day the king requested towers and turrets and stained glass windows, and the gnomes made them all. Yet still he could not guess the little man’s name correctly. He began to despair and. feared that he might die after all. One evening the king could no longer think Of a , way to delay the com-, pletion of the cathedral. He wandered miserably up the mountains, scarcely

noticing where he was going, until he found himself near the mouth Of a cave. A loud roaring sound was coming out of it and he crept closer and saw a gnome baby yelling . in his mother’s arms. After a while she managed to quieten the child! and sang: Weep not, weep not my! darling boy; ' .'Hush altogether. -&■ And then Foul-Weather ‘ ■ Your Dad will come . » ' Tomorrow home, ’ Bringing a king’s heart I for your joy i And it will be a pretty, toy. She sang harshly, but her song was music to the . king, for he knew now the

name of the gnome. He tiptoed past the cave and ran all the way back to his city. It was dark by that time and the little man was standing up on - - the topmost spire fixing the gilded weathercock that would complete the | cathedral. The king stood below fand shouted at the top of his voice: “Set it straight, r Foul-Weather." At that. ,the gnome fell straight • down from the spire, and with a crash, broke into smithereens as if he were made of glass. - The king lived happily ever after, but the weath« ercock on that great cath- . edral has been crooked from that day to this.