THE PIG THAT WOULDN’T.

Taranaki Daily News, 20 February 1932, Page 6 (Supplement)

THE PIG THAT WOULDN’T.

An old woman once bought a pig for sixpence—a thing she could not do to-day—and on the way home the pig would not get over the stile. This was very annoying for the old woman, and she called upon all kinds of things to help her, as you remember —a dog, a stick, fire, water, an ox, a 'butcher, a rope, a rat and a cat —and they all refused to do what she asked. But ;the pig could not help it, nor could the others; they were all under a spell, and this was not broken until the cow gave the eat the milk it wanted. This is one of the oldest and most popular tales in the world. It is told in many countries, from Scandinavia to ■South Africa.

In every case we are told of something that man requires and cannot obtain for his use, because it is under some kind of spell. This extends to everything within its range, and it can only be broken when the point at which it originated is discovered. Sometimes an animal will not go home, as in the case of our old woman’s pig; sometimes fruit or berries will not fall from the tree when it is shaken, or a root crop will not come out of the ground. Whatever the trouble may be, the spell has to be broken with the help of a sequence of powers, exactly like that employed by the old woman, or very little different from it.

The same sequence occurs in a game for boys called “Dump” in Yorkshire, Club Fist in America, and Pied-de-boeuf or Ox Foot in France.

In this game a party of boys pile up fists, and the last boy, having a free fist, begins to knock the others off, asking, “What’s this?” In America the answer is "A pear”; in Yorkshire it is “Dump.” “Take it off, or I’ll knock it off,” says the leader. When all the fists are knocked down a dialogue follows between the leader and the other players:

“What’s there?” “Cheese and bread and a mouldy half-penny.” “Where’s my share?” “I put it on the shelf and the cat got it.” “Where’s the cat?” “She’s run miles through the wood” “Where’s the wood?” “T’fire burned it.” “Where’s the fire?”

“T’water sleckt it,” and so right through the familiar list of powers, until we come to the butcher who is

“up on the church top, cracking nuts, and you may go and eat the shells; and them as speaks first shall have nine nips, nine scratches, nine boxes on the ear.”

In Scotland they say: “nine nips, nine bobs, nine double douncomes and a good blow on the back.”

In view of the fact that it was under so unusual and so complicated a spell, we must forgive the pig for its obstinacy.

It is evident that in these stories, and in the game, we have traces of some primitive custom or belief,