When Apples Grew Noses and White Horses Flew (6 page)

“It seems like an adventure,” Ti-Jean said.

“I have this feeling your brothers are going to need you,” his mother told him.

“In that case, I'll go for sure,” Ti-Jean replied.

He took the not-so-good horse. It was all that was left, but he thought it was good enough for him. He traveled as quickly as he could until he could see his brothers in the distance. After that he hung back because he was sure they would try to chase him away.

Late in the day, they came to a town. His brothers had money. They got themselves rooms at the inn. Ti-Jean was not quite certain how he would manage.

Perhaps if I go to the kitchen, he thought, they'll let me work for food and a place to sleep.

The cook looked him up and she looked him down.

“Can you carry water?” she asked.

“I can,” said Ti-Jean.

“Can you bring in the wood so I can keep my stove going?”

“I can,” said Ti-Jean. “I can carry water and bring in the wood. I can chop vegetables and watch the meat. I can even wash the dishes because my mother taught me. I will work quickly and I will work hard.”

At that, the cook agreed. Ti-Jean was true to his word, too. He worked as fast and as hard as he could. He brought in the wood. He brought in the water. He chopped great piles of vegetables. He watched the meat. He washed one mountain of dishes after another. He did not stop until everything that needed doing was done.

The cook gave him food in plenty and a place to sleep in the stable. She made sure his horse was fed as well.

In the morning when Ti-Jean was about to go on again, she offered him a gift.

“I've never known anyone so cheerful and so willing,” she told him. “Here's a napkin for you. If ever you're hungry, open it up and tell it what you'd like to eat. Whatever you ask for will appear.”

“Thank you indeed,” said Ti-Jean.

All day he followed his brothers again. By nightfall they had reached another town. It was the same as the day before. Ti-Jean's brothers rented rooms for themselves at the inn. Ti-Jean had nowhere to go. Still, this time he did not have to wonder how he would manage. He went to the kitchen right off.

The cook asked him the same kinds of questions. He gave the same answers.

This inn was even busier. He worked even harder than he had before. All the servants were amazed at what he did for them. They made sure he had a good supper so he was not hungry. They made sure he had a place to sleep in the stable so he could rest.

In the morning they all gathered together at the kitchen door to see him off.

“You really helped us. You made the whole evening go better than it has ever gone,” they said.

They told him they had a gift for him. The gift turned out to be a bottle.

“If you're thirsty and you want something to drink, all you have to do is pull out the cork and give your orders. You'll have what you need and more,” they explained.

“Thank you indeed,” said Ti-Jean.

This was the day when he and his brothers would come to where the seigneur lived. They arrived about noon. The seigneur's servants told Ti-Jean's brothers they would have to return the next morning. His brothers went off to find another inn. Ti-Jean thought maybe he would like a change.

He went to find the seigneur's gardener.

“If I would work the rest of the day for you, would you give me supper and a place to sleep?” he asked.

“Do you know how to set seeds?” the gardener asked him.

“I do,” said Ti-Jean.

“Can you plant out seedlings and water them carefully?”

“I can,” said Ti-Jean. “I can set seeds and plant out seedlings. I can weed and rake and hoe. I can even prune trees, for my mother taught me. I will work quickly and I will work hard.”

Again he was true to his word. He worked the rest of the day for the gardener. He did everything he was asked. He smiled all the time because being in the garden made him think of his mother. He set seeds and he planted out seedlings. He weeded and raked and hoed and pruned.

“You're the best helper I've ever had,” the gardener told him.

The gardener was so grateful that he not only gave Ti-Jean a meal, he gave him a bed in his own house.

“I wish you could stay longer,” the gardener said in the morning. “But since you can't, I'll give you a gift.”

He brought out a violin — a fiddle. It was old and shiny and brown.

“Is that for me?” Ti-Jean asked.

“It is,” said the gardener. “If ever you're in need of singing and dancing, all you have to do is put the bow to the strings and the fiddle will play.”

Ti-Jean was overjoyed. A fiddle was precious. It made people happy.

“Thank you indeed,” he said.

He tucked the fiddle under his arm and he went to the seigneur's great house. He did not have any trouble getting in. There were so many others entering as well. Some of them had come because they wanted to try to marry the seigneur's daughter. Some of them had come because they wanted to watch. Ti-Jean was able to hide among them easily enough.

The seigneur's daughter sat in one big chair and the seigneur and his wife sat on two others. The contestants came up one by one. Ti-Jean's brothers were not at the head of the line by a long shot.

Ti-Jean could not believe what was talked about. He listened to discussions about the sun and the moon and the stars and the planets. He heard debates about faraway countries and far-off times. He heard of things he had never even thought of.

The seigneur's daughter answered every question. She had something to add to every topic.

He could see his brothers were beginning to look pale. They were beginning to look very pale indeed.

At last the eldest's turn came. He asked the seigneur's daughter to name all the trees in the forest. She looked at him as if he was a maggot. She reeled off the names at once.

The oldest brother was thrown in prison.

The second brother stood before her. He tried to talk to her about the best times for planting cabbages.

He was thrown in prison as well.

By that time, Ti-Jean was angry. He pushed his way through the crowd. He stood in front of the seigneur's daughter and shook his fist at her.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he shouted. “The contest is not fair. The contest is cruel. You should think of the suffering you're causing.”

The seigneur's daughter was used to people bowing to her. She was used to them asking how they could please her.

She went red with anger. Ti-Jean kept talking and talking, telling her how wrong she was.

She wanted to answer but she could not. She tried to make her mouth move but it seemed her lips were glued together. She sputtered but did not speak.

People began to laugh. The seigneur knew he must put a stop to what was happening.

“I am afraid you will have to marry this man,” he said.

“That's not what I want,” said Ti-Jean. “I want to be with my brothers. I want to go to prison.”

“You're sure?” asked the seigneur.

“I am certain.”

“Take him to the prison!” the seigneur decreed.

Ti-Jean was pushed down the prison stairs. He went where his brothers had gone. Of course, they were not alone. The prison cells were full and all of the men were starving.

“I'll put an end to that,” Ti-Jean announced.

He brought out the napkin the cook had given him.

“What would you like to eat?” he demanded.

“Roast chicken with potatoes, vegetables and gravy,” said his oldest brother.

“Cake with cream for dessert,” said the other.

“Everyone can choose whatever he wants,” Ti-Jean announced.

“Fish, well cooked.”

“Venison, finely seasoned.”

“Pie with apples such as my grandmother baked.”

A feast appeared before them.

“What is a feast without wine?” Ti-Jean cried.

He brought out his bottle. He ordered it to fill itself with good wine over and over again.

“A feast is nothing without music,” he declared.

He brought out his fiddle. He put the bow to the strings and began to play.

All the prisoners started to dance. Their feet beat out the rhythm. They began to laugh and sing as well.

The noise grew louder and louder. It grew so loud that it reached the ears of the seigneur. It grew so loud that he was frightened.

“Take food to the prisoners,” he ordered his servants.

His servants took a great cauldron of pea soup. They would have given the soup to the prisoners, but all of a sudden the servants found they had joined in the dancing — and the singing and the laughter, too.

The soup was spilled. The noise from the prison grew louder.

The seigneur decided he must go down himself and put a stop to it. He tried to shout the order but the prisoners only laughed harder, for the seigneur was dancing as well. He was dancing as if his life depended on it.

The seigneur's wife could also hear the commotion. When the seigneur did not return, she decided she must go and see.

Down to the prison she went. She might have been surprised to find him flinging his arms about and jigging, but before she knew it she was flinging her arms about and jigging, too.

There had never been a party like it. Everyone was enjoying themselves but everyone was also growing tired.

It was the seigneur who understood first that nothing would change unless Ti-Jean stopped playing.

“If you put an end to the music, I will give you half my seigneurie to rule over as well as my daughter's hand in marriage,” he announced.

“What I want most is for all of the prisoners to be freed,” Ti-Jean insisted.

“It will be done, I promise. It will be done this instant. See, the prison gates are open. The prisoners can go to their homes. They can go anywhere.”

“I will stop playing,” Ti-Jean agreed.

As soon as he did, the singing and dancing were over. All of the prisoners rushed to leave. All except Ti-Jean's brothers. They stayed to thank Ti-Jean for rescuing them.

“It was our mother who sent me,” Ti-Jean said.

He went then to meet the seigneur's daughter.

“I do not want to rule my half of the seigneurie in the old way,” he told her father. “I want to find a way that is better. Anyway, I believe your daughter and I should get to know each other before the marriage takes place.”

“You are a wise man after all,” the seigneur told him.

It seemed his daughter agreed. She went with Ti-Jean happily to meet his mother. By the time the visit was over, she and Ti-Jean did indeed know each other much better. And so the wedding was arranged. Once they were married, Ti-Jean and his bride ruled over their half of the seigneurie together.

They gave much thought to looking after people and helping as they could. Of one thing you can be certain. There was plenty of music and there was plenty of singing and dancing and laughter. Ti-Jean played his fiddle often, although he was always careful about knowing when to stop.