Aestivius
08-28-2016, 03:10 PM
The Scrummy Lummy - A Fairytale
Here’s a short fairytale I wrote just recently. I have fallen in love with Early Modern English and British dialects hence the story features such wording and words; below is a glossary for the most of them.
Glossary:
Camsteery – Wild.
Drowk – To wither due to lack of water, especially of leaves and plants.
Lerry – A trick.
Summat – Something.
Know ye of the scrummy-lummy. The scrounging scrummy, the lounging lummy. He who, ’tis said, giveth gifts to those who find him. Aye, there be a the rub, though! Sit ye down and let me tell ye a tale of when a goodly farmer by the name of Ben encountered this camsteery critter.
Ben was an earnest farmer who worked from dawning til dusk. His father and his father afore him had like his father ere him and his father before him, just like fathers going on and on into the past raised turnips. Lively turnips. Fit for breakfast, dinner, luncheon, tea and supper. Alas, Ben had unlike his father little luck nor favour with the gods of weather. No nor naught came from whence good rain falls. A dreadful dry-spell. Aye, Ben grew wroth as he was the foremost turnip farmer and needed to provide his wife and son with food.
One evening afore the house was ready for sleep spake Ben’s wife Betty to him of their troubles.
“Dear Benjamin, we can’t hold a steady life without any turnips” cried Betty.
“Aye, my darling. ‘Tis the earth it’s too dry, the turnips doth drowk!” sighed Ben.
“If only there was summat we could do.” said Betty.
Ben’s mind gan churning and twisting. Every nook and cranny in his head was searched. Then Little Bill, his young son all of a sudden cried out: “What of the Scrummy Lummy, dad?”
Ben was about to tell his son that such a being was merely made-up, but he remembered his father telling him about tales of it as had previous generations. Perhaps it was no mere tale after all?
Aye, see ye then that Ben made a decision:
“I shall go look for him. Thanks, my Billy” said Ben.
Oh, yea. I hear ye folks, ye be saying, “oh that Ben be of ill mind to seek out such a made-up monster”. Well, Ben was a man of many wits and there just might be proof of the Scrummy Lummy. Ben grabbed his shovel and went a-questing.
His father had told him of the Earthen Kingdom of the Scrummy Lummy and how he would arise from his hole in the ground to seek out folks to make trades and offer them gifts. Ben went past a lot of earth. Three large piles were there. Ben knew that somehow the Scrummy Lummy would appear from one of them, and so he waited. Three long hours passed and thus appeared a strange little being from the third pile. He had 2 pair of feet and 2 pair of arms and 2 heads. As he wandered he wibbled and wobbled.
“That be him!” uttered Ben loudly and the Scrummy Lummy caught sight of him and quickly almost frighteningly sped towards him on its wibbly wobbly feet.
“Who be’st thee?” asked the Scrummy Lummy.
“Benjamin the Farmer, take me to thy kingdom, O Scrummy Lummy” said Ben.
“Aye” replied the Scrummy Lummy.
And he followed it to the earthen kingdom where turnips doth grow and lo, he found a turnip o’ his own. Alas, the scrummy-lummy is a parsimonious little git and doth not give its superb turnip
Now ye may be wondering wherefore do the two rhyme and sing. ‘Twas the magic of the Scrummy Lummy. All who entered his lair fell under his spell. Ask me not wherefore, I be but a meek teller of tales.
“I give thee this turnip not” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Give it to me, thou little sod!” replied Ben.
“Tell thee, what I make thee a trade” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Of what sort then and of what grade?” answered Ben.
“Get thee me a bowl of porridge, rich and thick” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Thou art too greedy. Be this thy trick?” came it from Ben.
“Nay, this be nary a lerry” spake the Lummy.
Thus agreed Ben to the Scrummy Lummy’s deal. Now, what makes a good porridge ask I you. Ben set out to find out. First he visited Bob the Baker, he knew not of how to make porridge, that was not his craft, he made wholesome bread. He went to Carla the Cook and she replied same wise, porridge was not her craft. Ben grew sad and wroth. He wandered for 3 nights and days until he went to a wide field of oat that shone in the gleam of the sun. Ben held his hand in front of his eyes to better see what the oat surrounded. ‘Twas a grand palace of gold. He believed not his own eyes.
He ran full of renewed hope t’wards the gilded great house. He reached its mighty gates. Went a-knocking three times thence it opened slightly.
“Who is it that knocketh upon this gate of mine?” thundered a voice.
“It be I, a lowly farmer, Benjamin, sir.” said Ben.
“Benjamin. I sense thou art an honest man, a goodly farmer upon a quest to save thine house from ruin. Is this true?” asked the loud voice.
“Yes, sir. It be most true.” replied Ben humbly.
“What is thine errand, good Benjamin?” came it from the loud voice.
“To fetch porridge, as part of a trade with the Scrummy Lummy” said Ben.
“I see. Him again? Up to his trickery again?” said the loud voice.
“Trickery? Sir, he promised me!” said Ben.
The gates swept upon forcing Ben down upon his arse.
Now, ye folks, before stood a figure of glowing sheen, garbed in long yellow robes whose light blinded Ben. His beard was long, also golden. And his face, a jovial smile.
‘Twas the Lord of Porridge. Grander man existeth not.
“Benjamin the Farmer. Know thou that the Scrummy Lummy is one of little truth and of plenty guile. He will trick thee and give thee naught in return. Give him this” exclaimed the Lord of Porridge and handed Ben a bowl of sticky, gooey, greyish yet rich and thick porridge.
“Thank you, good sir” replied Ben.
“Take thou the bowl to him. It shall stick to him and prevent him for a long time from tricking good folk such as thee. Take thou then his turnip. Methinketh he took the turnip from as honest a man as thyself. It shall serve him well” said the Lord of Porridge.
“I thank you, good sir” said Ben and went thither to the Earthen Kingdom of the Scrummy Lummy.
Ben sneaked into the lair and saw that the Scrummy Lummy was wibbling and wobbling around the turnip singing a song.
I fooled a poor farmer
To give me a porridge rich and thick
He thought it a fair trade
‘Twas all a guileful trick!
Ben waited a moment and then spake:
“Here be thy porridge rich and thick” said Ben.
“Ah, so thou saw’st ’twas a trade and no trick” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
The Scrummy Lummy’s face was lit with glee as it saw the porridge.
“Get thee hence and the turnip shall be thine” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Nay, I take it now for It be now rightful mine” said Ben in ire.
“Nay, I shall give it to thee when the time is nigh” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Fine, so be it, thou ghoul quick and spry!” said Ben.
And lo, the Scrummy Lummy screamed in annoyance as it was glued to the bowl. Ben swiftly seized the sizeable turnip and returned to his family. The giant turnip gave Ben food enough to last the next harvest. They lived happily ever after except for that git, Scrummy Lummy, of course.
Here’s a short fairytale I wrote just recently. I have fallen in love with Early Modern English and British dialects hence the story features such wording and words; below is a glossary for the most of them.
Glossary:
Camsteery – Wild.
Drowk – To wither due to lack of water, especially of leaves and plants.
Lerry – A trick.
Summat – Something.
Know ye of the scrummy-lummy. The scrounging scrummy, the lounging lummy. He who, ’tis said, giveth gifts to those who find him. Aye, there be a the rub, though! Sit ye down and let me tell ye a tale of when a goodly farmer by the name of Ben encountered this camsteery critter.
Ben was an earnest farmer who worked from dawning til dusk. His father and his father afore him had like his father ere him and his father before him, just like fathers going on and on into the past raised turnips. Lively turnips. Fit for breakfast, dinner, luncheon, tea and supper. Alas, Ben had unlike his father little luck nor favour with the gods of weather. No nor naught came from whence good rain falls. A dreadful dry-spell. Aye, Ben grew wroth as he was the foremost turnip farmer and needed to provide his wife and son with food.
One evening afore the house was ready for sleep spake Ben’s wife Betty to him of their troubles.
“Dear Benjamin, we can’t hold a steady life without any turnips” cried Betty.
“Aye, my darling. ‘Tis the earth it’s too dry, the turnips doth drowk!” sighed Ben.
“If only there was summat we could do.” said Betty.
Ben’s mind gan churning and twisting. Every nook and cranny in his head was searched. Then Little Bill, his young son all of a sudden cried out: “What of the Scrummy Lummy, dad?”
Ben was about to tell his son that such a being was merely made-up, but he remembered his father telling him about tales of it as had previous generations. Perhaps it was no mere tale after all?
Aye, see ye then that Ben made a decision:
“I shall go look for him. Thanks, my Billy” said Ben.
Oh, yea. I hear ye folks, ye be saying, “oh that Ben be of ill mind to seek out such a made-up monster”. Well, Ben was a man of many wits and there just might be proof of the Scrummy Lummy. Ben grabbed his shovel and went a-questing.
His father had told him of the Earthen Kingdom of the Scrummy Lummy and how he would arise from his hole in the ground to seek out folks to make trades and offer them gifts. Ben went past a lot of earth. Three large piles were there. Ben knew that somehow the Scrummy Lummy would appear from one of them, and so he waited. Three long hours passed and thus appeared a strange little being from the third pile. He had 2 pair of feet and 2 pair of arms and 2 heads. As he wandered he wibbled and wobbled.
“That be him!” uttered Ben loudly and the Scrummy Lummy caught sight of him and quickly almost frighteningly sped towards him on its wibbly wobbly feet.
“Who be’st thee?” asked the Scrummy Lummy.
“Benjamin the Farmer, take me to thy kingdom, O Scrummy Lummy” said Ben.
“Aye” replied the Scrummy Lummy.
And he followed it to the earthen kingdom where turnips doth grow and lo, he found a turnip o’ his own. Alas, the scrummy-lummy is a parsimonious little git and doth not give its superb turnip
Now ye may be wondering wherefore do the two rhyme and sing. ‘Twas the magic of the Scrummy Lummy. All who entered his lair fell under his spell. Ask me not wherefore, I be but a meek teller of tales.
“I give thee this turnip not” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Give it to me, thou little sod!” replied Ben.
“Tell thee, what I make thee a trade” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Of what sort then and of what grade?” answered Ben.
“Get thee me a bowl of porridge, rich and thick” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Thou art too greedy. Be this thy trick?” came it from Ben.
“Nay, this be nary a lerry” spake the Lummy.
Thus agreed Ben to the Scrummy Lummy’s deal. Now, what makes a good porridge ask I you. Ben set out to find out. First he visited Bob the Baker, he knew not of how to make porridge, that was not his craft, he made wholesome bread. He went to Carla the Cook and she replied same wise, porridge was not her craft. Ben grew sad and wroth. He wandered for 3 nights and days until he went to a wide field of oat that shone in the gleam of the sun. Ben held his hand in front of his eyes to better see what the oat surrounded. ‘Twas a grand palace of gold. He believed not his own eyes.
He ran full of renewed hope t’wards the gilded great house. He reached its mighty gates. Went a-knocking three times thence it opened slightly.
“Who is it that knocketh upon this gate of mine?” thundered a voice.
“It be I, a lowly farmer, Benjamin, sir.” said Ben.
“Benjamin. I sense thou art an honest man, a goodly farmer upon a quest to save thine house from ruin. Is this true?” asked the loud voice.
“Yes, sir. It be most true.” replied Ben humbly.
“What is thine errand, good Benjamin?” came it from the loud voice.
“To fetch porridge, as part of a trade with the Scrummy Lummy” said Ben.
“I see. Him again? Up to his trickery again?” said the loud voice.
“Trickery? Sir, he promised me!” said Ben.
The gates swept upon forcing Ben down upon his arse.
Now, ye folks, before stood a figure of glowing sheen, garbed in long yellow robes whose light blinded Ben. His beard was long, also golden. And his face, a jovial smile.
‘Twas the Lord of Porridge. Grander man existeth not.
“Benjamin the Farmer. Know thou that the Scrummy Lummy is one of little truth and of plenty guile. He will trick thee and give thee naught in return. Give him this” exclaimed the Lord of Porridge and handed Ben a bowl of sticky, gooey, greyish yet rich and thick porridge.
“Thank you, good sir” replied Ben.
“Take thou the bowl to him. It shall stick to him and prevent him for a long time from tricking good folk such as thee. Take thou then his turnip. Methinketh he took the turnip from as honest a man as thyself. It shall serve him well” said the Lord of Porridge.
“I thank you, good sir” said Ben and went thither to the Earthen Kingdom of the Scrummy Lummy.
Ben sneaked into the lair and saw that the Scrummy Lummy was wibbling and wobbling around the turnip singing a song.
I fooled a poor farmer
To give me a porridge rich and thick
He thought it a fair trade
‘Twas all a guileful trick!
Ben waited a moment and then spake:
“Here be thy porridge rich and thick” said Ben.
“Ah, so thou saw’st ’twas a trade and no trick” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
The Scrummy Lummy’s face was lit with glee as it saw the porridge.
“Get thee hence and the turnip shall be thine” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Nay, I take it now for It be now rightful mine” said Ben in ire.
“Nay, I shall give it to thee when the time is nigh” spake the Scrummy Lummy.
“Fine, so be it, thou ghoul quick and spry!” said Ben.
And lo, the Scrummy Lummy screamed in annoyance as it was glued to the bowl. Ben swiftly seized the sizeable turnip and returned to his family. The giant turnip gave Ben food enough to last the next harvest. They lived happily ever after except for that git, Scrummy Lummy, of course.