Filipino Popular Tales

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The owner of the hat was astonished, and, thinking that perhaps he
held the hat in the wrong way, or else his fingers were not on the
right color, he turned the hat around. Then he made another bow. The
owner of the shop now became angry, and began to swear at the man. The
other became excited, twirling the hat around, and holding it in as
many different ways as he could think of. Finally the shop-keeper
ordered the man arrested.

When the owner of the hat heard how Juan had played his trick by paying
twenty pesos in advance, he fainted and became very sick. In the mean
time Juan was performing other tricks in some different country.

Notes.

This droll was without doubt imported from Europe, where it has
a fairly wide distribution. It does not appear hitherto to have
been found in the Orient. In the European forms we find it both as
a separate tale, like our story, and also as a part of the "Master
Cheat" cycle, which we have discussed in the notes to No. 20. For a
complete list of the known occurrences of the "hat pays" episode, see
Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 10-15, incident D (on Grimm, No. 61). According
to their classification, versions from Holland, Denmark, Sweden,
Rumania, Serbo-Croatia, Poland, Russia, and Lithuania are known. See
also Koehler-Bolte, 246, 251 (note 1).

TALE 51

Juan and Clotilde.

Narrated by Vicente Hilario, a Tagalog, who heard the story from an
old man living in Batangas.

In ages vastly remote there lived in a distant land a king of such
prowess and renown, that his name was known throughout the four regions
of the compass. His name was Ludovico. His power was increased twofold
by his attachment to an aged magician, to whom he was tied by strong
bonds of friendship.

Ludovico had an extremely lovely daughter by the name of Clotilde. Ever
since his arrival at the palace the magician had been passionately
in love with her; but his extreme old age and his somewhat haughty
bearing were obstacles in his path to success. Whenever he made love
to her, she turned aside, and listened instead to the thrilling tales
told by some wandering minstrel. The magician finally succumbed to the
infirmities of old age, his life made more burdensome by his repeated
disappointments. He left to the king three enchanted winged horses;
to the princess, two magic necklaces of exactly the same appearance,
of inimitable workmanship and of priceless worth. Not did the
magician fall to wreak vengeance on the cause of his death. Before
he expired, he locked Clotilde and the three magic horses in a high
tower inaccessible to any human being. She was to remain in this
enchanted prison until some man succeeded in setting her free.

Naturally, King Ludovico wanted to see his daughter before the hour
of his death, which was fast approaching. He offered large sums of
money, together with his crown and Clotilde's hand, to anybody who
could set her free. Hundreds of princes tried, but in vain. The stone
walls of the tower were of such a height, that very few birds, even,
could fly over them.

But a deliverer now rose from obscurity and came into prominence. This
man was an uneducated but persevering peasant named Juan. He
possessed a graceful form, herculean frame, good heart, and unrivalled
ingenuity. His two learned older brothers tried to scale the walls
of the tower, but fared no better than the others. At last Juan's
turn came. His parents and his older brothers expostulated with him
not to go, for what could a man unskilled in the fine arts do? But
Juan, in the hope of setting the princess free, paid no attention to
their advice. He took as many of the biggest nails as he could find,
a very long rope, and a strong hammer. As he lived in a town several
miles distant from the capital, he had to make the trip on horseback.

One day Juan set out with all his equipment. On the way he met his
disappointed second brother returning after a vain attempt. The
older brother tried in every way he could to divert Juan from his
purpose. Now, Juan's parents, actuated partly by a sense of shame if
he should fail, and partly by a deep-seated hatred, had poisoned his
food without his knowledge. When he felt hungry, he suspected them
of some evil intention: so before eating he gave his horse some of
his provisions. The poor creature died on the road amidst terrible
sufferings, and Juan was obliged to finish the journey on foot.

When he arrived at the foot of the tower, he drove a nail into the
wall. Then he tied one end of his rope to this spike. In this way he
succeeded in making a complete ladder of nails and rope to the top of
the tower. He looked for Clotilde, who met him with her eyes flooded
with tears. As a reward for his great services to her, she gave him
one of the magic necklaces. While they were whispering words of love
in each other's ears, they heard a deafening noise at the bottom of
the tower. "Rush for safety to your ladder!" cried Clotilde. "One of
the fiendish friends of the magician is going to kill you."

But, alas! some wanton hand had pulled out the nails; and this
person was none other then Juan's second brother. "I am a lost man,"
said Juan.

"Mount one of the winged horses in the chamber adjoining mine," said
Clotilde. So Juan got on one of the animals without knowing where to
go. The horse flew from the tower with such velocity, that Juan had
to close his eyes. His breath was almost taken away. In a few seconds,
however, he was landed in a country entirely strange to his eyes.

After long years of struggle with poverty and starvation, Juan was
at last able to make his way back to his native country. He went
to live in a town just outside the walls of the capital. A rich old
man named Telesforo hired him to work on his farm. Juan's excellent
service and irreproachable conduct won the good will of his master,
who adopted him as his son. At about this time King Ludovico gave
out proclamations stating that any one who could exactly match his
daughter's necklace should be his son-in-law. Thousands tried, but
they tried in vain. Even the most dextrous and experienced smiths were
baffled in their attempts to produce an exact counterfeit. When word of
the royal proclamations was brought to Juan, he decided to try. One day
he pretended to be sick, and he asked Telesforo to go to the palace to
get Clotilde's necklace. The old man, who was all ready to serve his
adopted son, went that very afternoon and borrowed the necklace, so
that he might try to copy it. When he returned with the magic article,
Juan jumped from his bed and kissed his father. After supper Juan went
to his room and locked himself in. Then he took from his pocket the
necklace which Clotilde had given him in the tower, and compared it
carefully with the borrowed one. When he saw that they did not differ
in any respect, he took a piece of iron and hammered it until midnight.

Early the next morning Juan wrapped the two magic necklaces in a silk
handkerchief, and told the old man to take them to the king. "By
the aid of the Lord!" exclaimed Clotilde when her father the king
unwrapped the necklaces, "my lover is here again. This necklace,"
she said, touching the one she had given Juan, "is not a counterfeit"
for it is written in the magician's book of black art that no human
being shall be able to imitate either of the magic necklaces.--Where is
the owner of this necklace, old man?" she said, turning to Telesforo.

"He is at home," said Telesforo with a bow.

"Go and bring him to the palace," said Clotilde.

Within a quarter of an hour Juan arrived. After paying due respect to
the king, Juan embraced Clotilde affectionately. They were married
in the afternoon, and the festivities continued for nine days and
nine nights. Juan was made crown-prince, and on the death of King
Ludovico he succeeded to the throne. King Juan and Queen Clotilde
lived to extreme old age in peace and perfect happiness.

Notes.

This Tagalog Maerchen appears to be closely related to an
eighteenth-century Spanish ballad by Alonso de Morales. The ballad is
No. 1263 in the "Romancero General," and is entitled, "Las Princesas
Encantadas, y Deslealdad de Hermanos." Although in general outline the
two stories are very close to each other, there are some significant
differences.

In the Spanish, the king's name is Clotaldo, and he rules in Syria. The
king builds a very high tower, and puts in it his three beautiful
daughters; then he calls a powerful magician to cast a spell about
the place, so that the tower cannot be scaled until the king wishes
it to be. Confined in the tower with the princesses are three winged
horses (o satanicas arpias). The king then issues a proclamation that
whoever can reach the princesses shall be married to them. The three
brothers that make the attempt are knights from Denmark. The two older
proceed to Syria on horseback, fail, and on their return home meet
their youngest brother making his way leisurely in a bullock-cart. He
too is going to try, and is taking with him abundant provisions,
many nails, and a rope. After they have tried in rain to persuade
him to return home, they accompany him. [The episode of the poisoned
food is lacking.] Juan gains the top of the tower, lowers the two
older princesses, and then, last of all, the youngest, who gives him
a necklace before she descends. The treacherous brothers now destroy
Juan's means of escape, and make off with the three maidens, leaving
him on the tower. He mounts one of the winged horses, and it flies
with him to a distant country. Making his way back to Syria on foot,
he exchanges clothes with a drover, and appears in Clotaldo's kingdom
in disguise, pretending to be simple-minded. The king has already
married his two older daughters to Juan's treacherous brothers, and
is now trying to persuade his youngest daughter to marry: but she
wishes only her rescuer. She paints a necklace in every respect like
the one which she gave Juan, and says that she will marry only when a
person is found who can make a necklace exactly like the picture. The
king sends the painting to an alchemist in the city, and orders him,
under penalty of death if he falls, to produce the necklace in two
months. He is unable to do so, and becomes downcast. Juan, who has
been in service as a porter, and is the one who carried the command
of the king to the alchemist, asks him why he is sad. He tells the
reason. Juan gives the alchemist his necklace. [The rest is practically
as in our story.]

There is a sequel to this ballad, No. 1264, which has a close
resemblance to the Tagalog "Juan Tinoso," already summarized in the
notes to No. 36.

The Spanish story, says the editor of the "Romancero General," is one
of those founded directly on Oriental material which was transmitted
by the Arabs. It is curious that so few of these tales, which have
been preserved for generations as oral tradition, have made their
way into print. The differences noticeable between our Maerchen and
the ballad may be due to a tradition somewhat divergent from that on
which Alonso de Morales's poem is based.

TALE 52

The Poor Man and his Three Sons.

Narrated by Gregorio Velasquez, a Tagalog from Pasig, Rizal. He says,
"This is a primitive Tagalog fable. I think. I heard it from old
people."

Once there lived a poor man who had three sons. When the father was on
his death-bed, he called his sons, and said to them, "My sons, I shall
die very soon; and I shall not be able to leave you much wealth, for
wealth I have not. But I will give each one of you something which,
if you will only be able to find a place in which it has no equal,
will make you happy men." The father then gave to one a rooster,
to another a cat, and to the third a scythe. Then he died.

The owner of the scythe was the first to try his fortune and test his
father's advice. He left his brothers, and went on a journey until
he came to a town where he saw the people harvesting rice by pulling
the stalks out of the ground. He showed the people the convenience of
the scythe. They were so delighted and astonished, that they offered
to give him a large sum of money in exchange for the tool. Of course
he was willing to sell it, and he went home a rich man.

The owner of the rooster, seeing the good luck of his brother,
next resolved to try his fortune with the bird. Like his brother,
he travelled until he came to a town where there was no rooster. The
people were very much interested in the rooster's crowing, and asked
the owner why the bird crowed. He said that the bird told the time of
day by its crowing. "The first crow in the night announces midnight,"
he said; "the second, three o'clock in the morning; and the third
crow announces five o'clock." The people were very anxious to get
the rooster for their town, and offered to buy it. The owner was
willing, and he returned to his home as rich as his brother who had
sold the scythe.

The last brother now set out to try his luck with his cat. At last
he came to a town where the rats were vexing the people very much. He
showed them the use of his cat. With wonder the people watched the cat
kill the rats, and were astounded to see how the rats fled from this
strange animal. The news of the cat reached the king, who summoned
its owner to the palace. The king asked the brother to try his cat on
the rats in the palace, and so the cat was turned loose. In a short
time all the rats had either been killed or driven away. The king
wanted the cat, and offered to pay a large sum of money for it. So
the owner of the cat, after the king had paid him, went home as rich
as his other two brothers.

Thus the three brothers became rich, because they followed their
father's wise advice: select the right place in which to trade.

Notes.

This story, like the preceding, is clearly an importation from the
Occident. The bibliography of the cycle to which it belongs may be
found in Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 69-71 (on Grimm, No. 70). German, Breton,
French, Flemish, Swedish, Catalan, Serbian, Bulgarian, Czech, Polish,
Russian, Lithuanian, and Finnish versions have been recorded. The
story as a whole does not appear to have been collected from the Far
East hitherto, though separate tales turning on the sale of a cat in
a catless country (Dick Whittington type) are found among the Jews
and in Africa. Bolte and Polivka give the bibliography of this latter
group of stories on pp. 71-76.

The oldest form of our story known is that found in Nicholas de
Troyes'"Grand Parangon des nouvelles Nouvelles," No. X, dating from
1535. The three things here bequeathed by the father are a cock, a cat,
and a sickle, as in our version. I think it probable that the tale
was introduced into the Philippines through the medium of a French
religious. The Catalan form differs from the French in mentioning a
fourth "heirloom," a raven, and was probably not the parent of our
Tagalog version.

TALE 53

The Denied Mother.

Narrated by Leopoldo Uichanco, a Tagalog from Calamba, Laguna.

(One day little Antonio fell down and sprained his elbow. His
grandfather told him to put on his camisa and they would go to Tandang
Fruto, an old manghihilot (a man who pretends to correct dislocated
bones by means of certain prayers). On their way they met a beggar
with a guitar. He sat down on a stone in front of a house and began
to sing. Antonio wished to hear him, and so did the old grandfather:
so they stopped and listened. The beggar sang the story of "The Denied
Mother" in Tagalog verse. The story is this:--)

In a certain country there lived a king who had a pet dog. He loved
the dog so much and treated it so kindly, that, wherever he went, the
dog followed him. In the course of time the dog gave birth to three
puppies. The most striking thing about these new-born creatures was
that they were real human beings in every particular. So the king
ordered them to be baptized. The eldest sister was named Feliza;
the second, Juana; and the youngest, Maria. When they grew up into
beautiful young women, they married three princes, each of a different
kingdom. After the marriage-festivities, each went to live in the
country of her husband.

Feliza was very happy: she dressed elegantly, and had all that a woman
of her rank could wish for. One day, when her husband was away from
home, a lean, dirty, spectre-looking dog came to her. It was Feliza's
mother, who, after the death of her master the king, had been cast out
of the palace. The poor dog had had nothing to eat for many days. She
had been driven away from every house, and had been frightened by
mischievous boys with sticks and stones. Although Feliza's kingdom
was very far away, she had managed, in spite of difficulty, to reach
it. She hoped to gain her daughter's pity. "My daughter," she said,
as she ascended the steps of the ladder(!), "have compassion on me! I,
your mother, am in a very wretched condition."

"What care I?" returned Feliza. "What business have you to come
here? Don't you know that I will never sacrifice anything for your
sake? Get out of here!" And she kicked the poor dog until it fell
tumbling to the ground. Feliza did not want her husband to find out
that her mother was a dog.

Sadly the dog went away, and decided to go to her daughter Juana's
kingdom. The country was far away, but what else could she do? As
Juana was coming out of the church with her husband, she saw the dog
hurrying after her. Like Feliza, she was ashamed of her mother. She
whispered to one of the guards to catch the dog and tie it securely
in a distant forest, so that it might no longer annoy her.

Not long after this, Maria, the youngest daughter, was riding through
the forest with her husband. There they found the poor dog crying
and yelping in a pitiful manner. Maria recognized her mother. She
got out of the carriage, and with her own hands untied the dog. She
wrapped her veil around it, and ordered the carriage to turn back
to the palace. "Husband," she said as she ascended the steps of the
royal residence, "this dog that I am carrying is my mother, so please
your Majesty."

The husband only said, "Thank God!" and not another word. Maria ordered
the cook to prepare delicious food for the dog. She assigned the best
chamber in the palace to the animal. While the dog was eating with
Maria, the prince, and the courtiers, the dining-room was suddenly
illuminated with a bright light. The dog disappeared, and in its place
stood a beautiful woman in glorious attire. The woman kissed Maria,
and said, "I am the dog your mother. God bless you, my good child!"

Notes.

I can offer no close parallels for this somewhat savage tale, though a
few analogies to incidents in our story are to be found in an Indian
story in Frere (No. 2, "A Funny Story"), the first part of which may
be abstracted here for comparison.

A certain Rajah and Ranee are sad because they have no children and
the little dog in the palace has no puppies; but at last the Ranee is
confined, and bears two puppies, while the little dog at the same time
gives birth to two female infants. In order to keep her offspring from
the Ranee, who wishes to substitute her own for the dog's, the dog
carries its two daughters to the forest, and there rears them. When
they have become of marriageable age, they are found by two princes,
who take them away and make them their wives. For twelve years the poor
dog looks in vain for her lost children. One day the eldest daughter
looks out of her window, and sees a dog running down the street. "That
must be my long-lost mother!" she exclaims to herself; and she runs
out, gets the animal, bathes it and feeds it. The dog now wants to
go visit her younger daughter, although the elder tries in vain to
dissuade her mother from going. When the younger daughter sees the dog,
she says, "That must be my mother! What will my husband think of me
if he learns that this wretched, ugly, miserable-looking dog is my
mother?" She orders the servants to throw stones at it and drive it
away. Wounded in the head, the dog runs back to her elder daughter,
but dies, in spite of the tender care it receives. The daughter now
tries to conceal the body until she can bury it. The husband discovers
the corpse of the dog, but it has become a statue of gold set with
diamonds and other precious stones. He asks where the treasure came
from. His wife lies, and says, "Oh, it is only a present my parents
sent me!" [The rest of the story has nothing to do with ours: it is
a variant of the "Toads and Diamonds" cycle (see notes to No. 47).]

It will be noticed that in the Indian tale the roles of the daughters
are the reverse of what they are in our story.

TALE 54

Tomarind and the Wicked Datu.

Narrated by Eutiquiano Garcia of Mexico. Pampanga. He says that this
is an old Pampangan tale.

Before the Spanish occupation there were in the Philippines many
petty kingdoms headed by native princes known as datus. Luzon, the
scene of countless ravages and hard fightings of warlike tribes, was
the home of Datu Nebucheba. His kingdom--at first only a few square
miles--was greatly extended by the labor of his young brave warrior,
Tomarind. Tomarind had a very beautiful wife, with whom Datu Nebucheba
fell in love; but the ruler kept his vile desire secret in his heart
for many years. Many times he thought of getting rid of his warrior
Tomarind, and thus getting possession of his beautiful wife.

One day Tomarind was sent on a dangerous errand. He was ordered
to get an enchanted marble ball from one of the caves in a certain
mountain. Two monsters of terrible aspect, whose joy was the burning of
villages, and whose delight was the killing of human beings, guarded
the entrance of that cave. Many persons had entered the door of that
death-chamber, but nobody had come from it alive. Suspicious of the
coming danger, Tomarind did not go directly to the cave. He sought the
famous witch of Tipuca, and told her about his situation. Immediately
the witch performed a sort of diabolical ceremony, gave Tomarind a
magic cane, and sent him away. When he reached the cave, those that
guarded the cave received Tomarind very kindly, and they delivered
the enchanted marble ball to him.

"To-morrow," said Nebucheba to himself, "the wife of Tomarind
will be mine." Alas for him! very early the next morning Tomarind
presented the marble ball to Datu Nebucheba. "How quickly he executed
my orders!" exclaimed Nebucheba. "What shall I do to destroy this
brave man? The next time he will not escape the danger. I will ask
him to take a letter to my parents, who are living under ground,
in the realm of the spirits," he said to himself.

The datu caused a well to be dug, and big stones to be piled near
the mouth of it. When everything was ready, he summoned the brave
warrior. He gave him the letter, and told him to start the next
morning. Tomarind went again to the witch of Tipuca. "This is a very
great task," said the witch; "but never mind! you will get even with
Datu Nebucheba." That night the witch, with the help of unseen spirits,
made a subterranean passage connecting the bottom of the datu's well
with that of Tomarind's. "Nebucheba," the witch said to Tomarind,
"will ask you to go down into his well; and as soon as you are at the
bottom, he will order that the pile of stones be thrown on you. Lose
no time, but go in to the subterranean passage that I have prepared
for you." When morning came, Tomarind went to execute the orders of
the datu.

Now, Nebucheba firmly believed that Tomarind was dead. There was
great rejoicing in the datu's house. In the evening, while the
revelry was going on, Tomarind appeared with the pretended answer
from Nebucheba's parents. The letter read, "We wish you to come and
see us here. We have a very beautiful girl for you." Nebucheba was
greatly surprised. He made up his mind to go down into the well the
next day. He gathered all his subjects together, and said to them,
"I am going to see my parents. If the place there is better than the
place here, I shall not come back. Tomarind will be my successor."

In the morning Nebucheba's subjects took him to the well and lowered
him slowly into it. When he reached the bottom, Tomarind threw big
stones down on him, and Nebucheba was crushed to death. The people
never saw him again. Tomarind became datu, and he ruled his subjects
with justice and equity for many years.

Note.

I know of no variants of this tale, which pretty evidently represents
old tribal Pampangan tradition. The device by which Tomarind lures
the wicked datu to his death is not unlike incident J in our No. 20
(see notes), but there is clearly no other connection between the
two stories.

PART II

Fables and Animal Stories.

TALE 55

The Turtle and the Monkey.

Narrated by Eutiquiano Garcia of Mexico, Pampanga.

It was mid-day. The blinding heat of the sun forced all the
water-loving animals--such as pigs, carabaos, and turtles--to go to
the river-banks and there seek to cool themselves in the water. On
that part of the bank where a big shady tree stood, a monkey and a
turtle were having a good time, discussing the past, present, and
future. Just then they saw a banana-stalk floating by.