Fairytail

The fairy tale that gave our band its name:

The ribbon fairy tale (from WKZ  02/14/2012)

 

 

  • Of the  Band name  "Colludie Stone" comes from the Scottish fairy tale Habetrot, Scantlie Mab and the hollowed-out stone see below

  • In  Selkirkshire  lived a woman who had a beautiful but very lazy daughter who would rather play than rub her fingers sore on the spinning wheel.  The woman left no stone unturned to make a good spinner out of her daughter after all, because in those days a girl who couldn't spin diligently had no chance of getting a husband.

  • The mother forced the girl to spin seven bunches of flax in three days. The girl preferred to go for a walk and sat on the bank of the stream on a stone hollowed out by the water  (Colludie Stone)  and cried.

  • There she met an old female with a thick drooping lower lip named Habetrot. She had her thick lip from wetting her finger  Be crazy. She helped the girl.     

  • You can read how the fairy tale ends in the fairy tale below!

  • By the way, Scottish fairy tales run a little differently than those of the Brothers Grimm. Laziness and idiosyncrasy are rewarded in these fairy tales.  

 

 


 

The fairy tale of "Habetrot and Scantlie Mab" and the hollowed out stone  (Colludie Stone)
"Habetrot" with the thick, long lower lip 


In Selkirkshire lived a woman who had a beautiful but very lazy daughter who would rather play than work, would rather go across the meadow and pick daisies than rub her fingers sore on the spinning wheel.
The woman left no stone unturned to make a good spinner out of her daughter after all, because in those days a girl who couldn't spin diligently had no chance of getting a husband.
So the mother talked to her daughter well, flattered her, begged her, insulted and threatened her and even hit her - it was all in vain. The girl was and remained, as her mother called her: "a useless transuse".
One morning the mother gave her daughter a beating and threw seven bunches of flax at her feet.

"You will spin them into my yarn in three days, or you should feel bad  endure! "
The girl knew that this time the mother really meant business. She sat at the spinning wheel and worked all day. But she had no skill or practice in spinning. She got bloody blisters on her delicate, white fingers and at the end of the day she spun no more than a cubit or two of knotty, crumpled yarn.
Night fell. The girl cried herself to sleep.
The next morning, it was a lovely spring morning, the sun was shining and the birds were singing, the girl looked at her unsuccessful skein of yarn and tossed her work aside. "I can't, I don't want to and I don't like," she cried desperately, "and damn it and sewn up, I'd rather go for a walk!"
She ran out of the house and across the meadow. The dewdrops hung on the grass and shone in the morning sun. The girl walked across the fields and along the stream. She came to a mound on the bank of the stream and sat there next to a large colludie stone with a large hole in the middle. She put her head in her hands and cried.

She sat for a long time and was so lost in her grief that she  Heard no one coming. But when she finally looked up, she saw  little old woman sitting next to her on the hollowed stone.

The little woman pulled washed flax yarn from the stream bed and spread it out in the sun to dry and bleach. The old woman had an earth-brown, wrinkled face and large ears.   The most amazing thing about her, however, was her huge, long, thick, up to  Chin drooping lower lip.

The girl was a kind child. She got up and went to that  strange woman.

"Good morning", she said and asked, because she was also a curious girl, "where did you get, please don't be offended, such a long, fat lower lip?"
"About spinning, my darling, about flax and yarn spinning, my chicken," said the woman and looked at the girl in a friendly manner. "I wet my fingers on my lip as I pull the thread from the distaff."
"Oh!" exclaimed the girl, "and I should be crazy too. But I can't and don't like it, and I will never finish my work.
And she told the old woman her grief.
"Get me your flax and I will have spun it for you in time," said the friendly old woman.
The girl ran home overjoyed and brought the seven bundles of flax.
"And what is your name, grandmother?" she asked, "and where can I pick up the yarn?"
But the girl got no answer. The woman disappeared wordlessly with the seven bundles of flax between the bushes and trees.
The girl sat down by the stream and waited. The sun was warm.
She grew sleepy and faint and laid her head on the hollowed stone and fell asleep.
When she woke up again, the sun was setting and the evening star shone its silver light. The girl rubbed her eyes and heard purring noises and singing voices - right under her head. She looked through the hole in the stone and saw a deep, large cave. Several strange old maids sat in the cave, cocking them. Each of them sat on a white pebble rounded by the water. Some had a hump the size of a loaf of bread. Some had their tongues hanging down to their stomachs, and all were adorned with huge, drooping lower lips. The little old woman paced up and down between them giving them instructions. The girl put one ear to the hole in the stone and heard her say:
"How little the girl knows.
You don't know that I'm called Habetrot! "
One of the little spinners was sitting in a corner, a little apart from her sisters, wrapping the yarn. And this one looked even uglier.

Besides the drooping lower lip, the hump, she had like that  as big as bread, and the long tongue is also gray, protruding  Eyes and an enormous hooked nose.

Habetrot called to her:
"Wrap Scantlie Mab, wrap nicely,
the girl has to go home to her mother. "
The girl got up and made her way home. Habetrot soon caught up with her and placed seven wonderfully spun bundles of yarn in her hands.
"Oh grandmother, how can I thank you?"
"Nothing, nothing, my little bird, don't need to thank me, but don't tell mother who spun the yarn!" The girl danced and jumped home with the seven wonderful bundles. She was overjoyed, but also hungry - after all, she hadn't eaten all day.
The mother was already in bed and asleep. She had made blood sausages, hung them to dry in the chimney and, tired from work, had gone to bed early.

The girl put her bundle of thread on the table and blew the hearth fire  on, took down the frying pan, made the first black pudding hot and  ate them.

She fried the second sausage and ate them, the third, the fourth, the  The fifth - she was really very hungry - the sixth and because  they tasted so good, she ate the last, seventh, sausage.

Then she climbed the ladder, lay down in her bed and fell asleep exhausted.
The mother got up early the next morning. She saw the seven beautifully spun bundles of yarn. But she found only one last corner of the seven black puddings.
Nonsensical with joy, nonsensical with anger, she ran to the front door and shouted:
"My daughter spun!
my daughter ass!
and before dawn. "
A young lord rode by, heard their screams, and asked why.
"My daughter spun!
my daughter ass!
and if you don't believe me
so come and see for yourself. "
The young (and of course very beautiful) lord followed her into her hut and saw the soft, wonderfully evenly spun yarn. He wanted to see the artful spinner too. When he saw the girl, so rosy and beautiful and with delicate, white hands, he wanted her to be his wife right away. In short, the lord was young and curly black hair, so the girl said "yes".

The wedding was being prepared, but something worried the bride.  The young gentleman kept talking about how beautifully the yarn was spun  was and how happy he was to have such a capable spinner for his wife

receive.

One evening, shortly before the wedding, the bride ran to the hollowed stone on the bank of the stream and called:
"Habetrot, Habetrot,
help me in my need. "
Habetrot appeared and already knew about it.
"Don't be afraid, chicken, don't be afraid. Bring your Jo and let's just do it!"
The next evening, as the sun was just setting, the engaged couple stood in front of the hollowed stone. From the depths they heard Habetrot's voice: 
"We who live in the dark,
hidden from the sun light,
gray and ugly to look at,
you can't see us in the dark.
We sit alone night after night
On our white pebble. "
The song stopped, and Scantlie Mab asked from her corner what the song meant.
"I asked someone to come here at that hour," said Habetrot, "and he heard my song through the hollowed stone."
Habetrot opened a door hidden under the roots of an old willow tree and invited the couple to come in and get to know their family.
The young man was amazed at the weird company of the spinners and asked them out loud where they had come from. And sister after sister mumbled and lisped:
"Mi-mi-wi-di-sp-sp-spin-ni."
"Wom-shpom-shpom-mon."
"Shower-kumsch-vumsch-schpunnen."
"About spinning, young gentleman, about spinning," translated Habetrot. "Oh yes, you were beautiful youngsters once too, my sisters," she continued. "Your own mistress will look like this one day, no matter how pretty she may be, because, dear young man, your darling is really crazy about spinning."
"Never again shall she touch a spinning wheel!" the young man swore, and the girl bowed to his will. "Well then, if you insist, I will submit," she said gently.
And since that evening she walked with her husband across the meadows, free as a bird, and every bunch of flax that grew on her land made the old Habetrot spin her. "

From "Zwerge" by Helga Gebert, Verlag Beltz and Gelbert