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8. The Little Shepherd


There was once a shepherd boy no bigger than a mite and as mean as could be. On his way out to pasture one day, he passed a poultry dealer carrying a basket of eggs on her head. So what did he do but throw a stone into the basket and break every single egg. Enraged, the poor woman screamed a curse: "You shall get no bigger until you've found lovely Bargaglina of the three singing apples!"

From that time on, the shepherd boy grew thin and puny, and the more his mother attended to him, the punier he became. Finally she asked, "What on earth has happened to you? Have you done a bad turn for which someone placed a curse on you?" He then told her about his meanness to the poultry dealer, repeating the woman's words to him, "You shall get no bigger until you've found lovely Bargaglina of the three singing apples!"

"In that case," said his mother, "you've no choice but to go in search of this lovely Bargaglina."

The shepherd set out. He came to a bridge, on which a little lady was rocking to and fro in a walnut shell.

"Who goes there?"

"A friend."

"Lift my eyelids a little, so I can see you."

"I'm seeking lovely Bargaglina of the three singing apples. Do you know anything about her?"

"No, but take this stone; it will come in handy."

The shepherd came to another bridge, where another little lady was bathing in an eggshell.

"Who goes there?"

"A friend."

"Lift my eyelids a little, so I can see you."

"I'm seeking lovely Bargaglina of the three singing apples. Have you any news of her?"

"No, but take this ivory comb, which will come in handy."

The shepherd put it in his pocket and walked on until he came to a stream where a man was filling a bag with fog. When asked about lovely Bargaglina, the man claimed to know nothing about her, but he gave the shepherd a pocketful of fog, which would come in handy.

Next he came to a mill whose miller, a talking fox, said, "Yes, I know who lovely Bargaglina is, but you'll have difficulty finding her. Walk straight ahead until you come to a house with the door open. Go inside and you'll see a crystal cage hung with many little bells. In the cage are the singing apples. You must take the cage, but watch out for a certain old woman. If her eyes are open, that means she's asleep. If they're closed, she's surely awake."

The shepherd moved on. He found the old woman with her eyes closed and realized she was awake. "My lad," said the old woman, "glance down in my hair and see if I've any lice."

He looked, and as he was delousing her, she opened her eyes and he knew she had fallen asleep. So he quickly picked up the crystal cage and fled. But the little bells on the cage tinkled, and the old woman awakened and sent a hundred horsemen after him. Hearing them almost upon him, the shepherd dropped the stone he had in his pocket. It changed instantly into a steep, rocky mountain, and the horses all fell and broke their legs.

Now horseless, the cavalrymen returned to the old woman, who then sent out two hundred mounted soldiers. Seeing himself in new peril, the shepherd threw down the ivory comb. It turned into a mountain as slick as glass, down which horses and riders all slid to their death.

The old woman then sent three hundred horsemen after him, but he pulled out the pocketful of fog, hurled it over his shoulder, and the army got lost in it. Meanwhile, the shepherd had grown thirsty and, having nothing with him to drink, removed one of the three apples from the cage and cut into it. A tiny voice said, "Gently, please, or you'll hurt me." Gently, he finished cutting the apple, ate one half, and put the other in his pocket. At length he came to a well near his house, where he reached into his pocket for the rest of the apple. In its place was a tiny, tiny lady.

"I'm lovely Bargaglina," she said, "and I like cake. Go get me a cake, I'm famished."

The well was one of those closed wells, with a hole in the center, so the shepherd seated the lady on the rim, telling her to wait there until he came back with the cake.

Meanwhile, a servant known as Ugly Slave came to the well for water. She spied the lovely little lady and said, "How come you're so little and beautiful while I'm so big and ugly?" And she grew so furious that she threw the tiny creature into the well.

The shepherd returned and was heartbroken to find lovely Bargaglina gone.

Now his mother also went to that well for water, and what should she find in her bucket one day but a fish. She took it home and fried it. They ate it and threw the bones out the window. There where they fell, a tree grew up and got so big that it shut out all the light from the house. The shepherd therefore cut it down and chopped it up for firewood, which he brought inside. By that time his mother had died, and he lived there all by himself, now punier then ever, since no matter what he tried, he couldn't grow any bigger. Every day he went out to the pasture and came back home at night. How great was his amazement upon finding the dishes and pans he'd used in the morning all washed for him when he came home! He couldn't imagine who was doing this. At last he decided to hide behind the door and find out. Whom should he then see but a very dainty maiden emerge from the woodpile, wash the dishes, sweep the house, and make his bed, after which she opened the cupboard and helped herself to a cake.

Out sprang the shepherd, asking, "Who are you? How did you get in?"

"I'm lovely Bargaglina," replied the maiden, "the girl you found in your pocket in place of the apple half. Ugly Slave threw me into the well, and I turned into a fish, then into fishbones thrown out the window. From fishbones I changed into a tree seed, next into a tree that grew and grew, and finally into firewood you cut. Now, every day while you're away, I become lovely Bargaglina."

Thanks to the rediscovery of lovely Bargaglina, the shepherd grew by leaps and bounds, and lovely Bargaglina along with him. Soon he was a handsome youth and married lovely Bargaglina. They had a big feast. I was there, under the table. They threw me a bone, which hit me on the nose and stuck for good.

(Inland vicinity of Genoa)


NOTES:

"The Little Shepherd" (Il pastore che non cresceva mai) from Guarnerio (Due fole nel dialetto del contado genovese collected by P. E. Guarnerio, Genoa, 1892), Torriglia, near Genoa, told by the countrywoman Maria Banchero.

A feature of this Genoese variant of the widespread tale of the "three oranges" includes encounters with creatures like those in the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch -- tiny fairies rocking in nutshells or eggshells. We meet the same beings in another Genoese version (Andrews, 51).

Copyright: Italian Folktales Selected and Retold by Italo Calvino,
translated by George Martin,
Pantheon Books, New York 1980