Butterball

There was once an old woman who sat baking. She had a little boy who was big, round and fat. He was so fond of good things to eat that she called him "". The old woman also had a dog called "Goldtooth," who all of a sudden, one day started to bark.

"Run out, my little Butterball," said the old woman, "and see who Goldtooth's barking at." So the boy ran out to see, and came back in saying, "Oh, heaven help me! Here comes a big, tall Troll-hag, with her head under her arm and a sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. Then in came the big Troll. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil takes it all,” said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver knife I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip, here I am,” said Butterball from underneath the breadboard, and out he came. "I'm so old and my back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself." When Butterball was well down inside, the Troll-hag swung the sack on her back and rushed out through the door. When they had gone a ways, the Troll grew tired and asked," How far must I go to find a place to take a nap?" "Half a mile," said Butterball. So the troll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went off through the woods by herself to take a nap.


In the meantime, Butterball saw his chance. He took his knife, ripped a hole in the sack, and popped out. Then he put a large pine root in his place, and ran home to his mother. When the Troll got home and laid eyes on what she had in the sack, she was beside herself with rage. The next day the old woman sat baking again. All at once the dog started to bark. "Run out, my little Butterball," she said, "and see who Goldtooth's barking at". "Oh no, oh no. That nasty beast has come back, with her head under her arm and a big sack on her back," said Butterball. "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said his mother. "Good day!" she said. "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "No, he's in the woods with his father bagging grouse," replied the mother. "Devil takes it all!” said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a fine little silver fork I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip, here I am,” said Butterball, and out he came. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself."


When Butterball was well inside the sack, the Troll flung it on her back and set off. When they had gone a ways, the Troll grew tired and asked," How far must I go to find a place to take a nap?" "Half a mile," said Butterball. So the troll put the sack down by the side of the road, and went off through the woods by herself to take a nap. While the Troll was away, Butterball made a hole in the sack, and when he was out he put a big stone inside. When the Troll-hag got home, she made a fire in the hearth, hung a huge pot over it, and was going to stew Butterball. When she took the sack, thinking it was Butterball she was going to shake out, down fell the stone making a hole in the bottom of the pot so the water ran out, and put out the fire. Now the Troll was terribly angry and said, "No matter how heavy he makes himself this time, I'll trick him just the same, I will!"


The third time was just like the others; Goldtooth started to bark, and so the mother said to Butterball, "Run out, my little Butterball and see who Goldtooth's barking at". So Butterball ran out, and came back in again and said, “Oh mercy me, it's that Troll again with her head under her arm, and a sack on her back!" "Run under the breadboard and hide!" said the mother "God bless you!" said Butterball's mother. "Isn't Butterball at home today?" asked the Troll. "Indeed he isn't!" said the mother. "He's out in the woods with his father bagging grouse." "Devil takes it all!” said the Troll-hag. "I've got such a pretty little silver spoon I wanted to give him!" "Pip, pip, here I am!” said Butterball, and out he came from underneath the breadboard. "My back's so stiff," said the Troll-hag. "You'll have to pop down into the sack and fetch it yourself."


When Butterball was well down inside, the Troll threw the sack on her back and set off on her way. This time she didn't go off by herself and lie down to sleep, but strode straight home with Butterball in the sack. When they got there, it was a Sunday. The Troll said to her daughter, "Now you must take Butterball, and cut him up. Make a stew out of him by the time I come back. I'm going to church now to invite my friends to a feast."


When the Troll had gone, the daughter was going to take Butterball and butcher him, but she didn't quite know how she was supposed to do it. "Wait and I'll show you how to go about it,” said Butterball. "Lay your head on the stool and you'll see," She did just so, poor thing, and Butterball took the ax and chopped off her head, just like a chicken's. Then he put the head in the bed and the carcass in the pot, and made broth of the Troll's daughter. When that was done he scrambled up over the door, dragging the pine root and the stone with him, and one he placed over the door and the other on the Troll's chimney pipe.


When the Trolls came home from church and saw the head in the bed, they thought the daughter was asleep, and then they want over to taste the broth. "Tastes good this Butterball broth!" said the Troll-hag. "Tastes good, this daughter broth!" said Butterball from on top the chimney. At first they paid no attention to him, and then the Mountain Troll took the spoon and was going to taste. "Tastes good, this Butterball broth!" he said. "Tastes good, this daughter broth!" said Butterball, perched up on the chimney pipe. Then they took to wondering who was talking, and wanted to go out and have a look. When they got to the door, Butterball threw the pine root and the stone at their heads and killed them all. Then he took all the gold and silver there was in the house, and headed home to his mother richer than rich.


Is there a moral to this story?