Dere was once a poor owld widda-woman as lived in a little cottage. She’d two daughters; de younger on ’em was about nineteen or twenty, and she was very beautiful. Her Mother was busy ivry day, a-spinning of a coat for her.
A hawker cam courting dis girl; cam reg’lar he did, and kept on a-bringing of her dis thing and dat. He was in love wid her, and badly wanted her to marry him. But she warn’t in love wid him; it didn’t fall out like dat; and she was in a puzzlement what she’d best do about him. So one day she ext her mother. “Let he come,” her mother telt her, “and git what you can out’n him, while I finish dis coat, after when you won’t have no need’n him, nor his presents neether. So tell him, girl, as you won’t marry him, unless he gits you a dress o’ white satin with sprigs o’ gowld on it as big as a man’s hand, and mind as you tells him it mus’ fit exac’ly.” Next time de hawker cam round and ext her to wed him, de girl telt him just dis, de wery same as her mother ’ed said. He took stock ’n her size and build, de hawker did; and inside of a week he was back wid de dress. It answered de describance alright, and when de girl went upstairs wid her mother and tried it on, it fit her exac’ly. “What should I do now, mother?” she ext.
“Tell him,” her mother says, “as you won’t marry him unless he gits you a dress med o’ silk de colour o’ all de birds o’ de air; and as afore, it must fit you exac’ly.” De girl telt de hawker dis, and in two or three days he was back at de cottage, wid dis coloured silk dress de girl ’ed exted for; and being as he knowed de size, from de ’tother ’un, in course it fit her exac’ly. “Now what should I do, mother?” she ext. “Tell him,” her mother says, “as you won’t marry him unless he gits you a pair o’ silver slippers as fits you exac’ly.” De girl telt de hawker so, and in a few days he called round wid ’em. Her feet was only about three inches long, but de slippers fit her exac’ly: dey was not too tight, neether was dey too loose. Agen de girl ext her mother what she should do now. “I can finish de coat to-night,” her mother said, “so you can tell de hawker as you’ll marry him tamorra, and he’s to be here at 10 o’clock.”
So de girl telt him dis. “Think-on, my dear,” she says, “10 o’clock in de morning.” “I’ll be dere, my love,” he says, “by God, I will.”
Dat night her mother was at work on de coat till late, but she finished it alright. Green moss and gowld thread; dat’s what it was med on; jus’ dem two things. “Mossycoat,” she called it, and give de name to her younger daughter, as she’s med it for. It was a magic coat, she said, a Wishing Coat, she telt her daughter; when she’d got it on, she telt her, she’d only to wish to be somewhere and she’d be dere dat very instant, and de same if she wanted to change hersel’ into summat else, like be a swan or a bee.
Next morning de mother was up by it was light. She called her younger daughter, and telt her she mus’ now go into de world and seek her fortune; and a han’some fortune it was to be: she was a foreseer, de owld mother was, and know’d what was a-coming.
She give her daughter mossycoat to put on, and a gowld crown to tek wid her, and she telt her to tek as well de two dresses and de silver slippers she’d hed off ’n de hawker, but she was to go in de clo’es as she wore ivery day, her working clo’es, dat is. And now she’s ready for to start, Mossycoat is. Her mother den tells her she is to wish hersel’ a hundred miles away, and den walk on till she comes to a big hall; and dere she’s to ex for a job.
“You won’t hev far to walk, my blessed,” she says—dat’s de mother—“and dey’ll be sure to find you work at dis big hall.”
Mossycoat did as her mother telt her, and soon she foun’ hersel’ in front of a big gentleman’s house. She knocked at de front door, and said as she was looking for work. Well, de long and de short of it was as de mistress hersel’ come to see her; and she liked de look’n her, de lady did.
“What work can you do?” she ext.
“I can cook, your ladyship,” said Mossycoat, “in fact I’s in de way o’ being a wery good cook, from what peoples ’es remarked.” “I can’t give you a job as cook,” de lady tells her, “being as I got one already; but I’d be willing for to imploy you to help de cook, if so be as you’d be satisfied wid dat.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” says Mossycoat, “ I s’d be real glad’n de place.”
So it was settled as she was to be under-cook. And after when de lady’d showed her up to her bedroom, she took her to de kitchen and interdoosed her to de t’other sarvants.
“Dis is Mossycoat,” she tells ’em, “and I’ve ingaged her,” she says, “to be under-cook.”
She leaves ’em den, de mistress does; and Mossycoat, she goes up to her bedroom agen, to unpack her things, and hide away her gowld crown and silver slippers, and her silk and satin dresses.
It goes wi’out saying as de tother kitchen-girls was fair beside theirsel’s wid jealousy; and it didn’t mend matters as de new girl was a dam sight beautifuller nor what any o’ dem was. Here was dis wagrant i’ rags put above dem when all she was fit for at best was to be scullery girl. If anybody was to be under-cook, it stands to sense it sud ’ev been yan o’ dem, as really knowed about things, not dis girl i’ rags and tatters, picked up off’n de roads. But dey’d put her in her place, dey would. So dey goes on and on, like what women will, till Mossycoat comes down ready to start work. Den dey sets on her. “Who de devil did she think she was, setting hersel’ above dem? She’d be under-cook, would she? No dam’ fear dey relow of dat. What she’d ’ev to do, and all she was fit for, was to scour de pans, clean de knives, do de grates, and such-like; and all she’d git was dis.” And down come de skimmer on top of her head, pop, pop, pop. “Dat’s what you deserves,” dey tell her, “and dat’s what you can expect, my lady.”
And dat’s how it was wid Mossycoat. She was put to do all de dirtiest work and soon she was up to de ears in grease and her face as black as soot. And every now and agen, first one and den another o’ de sarvants ’ld pop, pop, pop her a-top o’ de head, wid de skimmer, till de poor girl’s head was dat sore, she couldn’t hardly bide it.
Well, it got on, and it got on, and still Mossycoat was at her pans, and knives, and grates; and still de sarvants was pop, pop, popping her on de head wid de skimmer. Now dere was a big dance coming on, as was to last three nights, wid hunting and other sports in de daytime. All de headmost people for miles round was to be dere; and de master, and mistress, and de young master—dey’d niver had but one child—in course dey was a-going. It was all de talk among de sarvants, dis dance was. One was wishing she could be dere; another ’ld like to dance wid some’n de young lords; a third’ld like to see de ladies’ dresses, and so dey went on, all excepting Mossycoat. If only dey’d de clo’es, dey’d be all right, dey tought, as dey considered deirselves as good as high-titled ladies any day. “And you, Mossycoat, you’d like to go, wouldn’t you now?” dey says, and down comes de skimmer on her head, pop, pop, pop. Den dey laughs at her, which goes to show what a low class o’ people dey was.
Now Mossycoat, as I’ve said afore, was wery handsome, and rags and dirt couldn’t hide dat. De t’other sarvants might think as it did, but de young master’d hed his eyes on her, and de master and mistress, dey’d al’ays taken partic’lar notice of her, on account of her good looks. When the big dance was coming on dey tought as it’d be nice to ex her to go to it; so dey sent for her to see if she’d like to. “No thank you,” she says, “ I’d niwer think o’ such a thing. I knows my place better an dat,” she says. “Besides, I’d greasy all de one side’n de coach,” she tells ’em, “and anybody’s clo’es as I comed up agenst.” Dey meks light on dat and presses her to go, de master and mistress does. It’s wery kind on ’em, Mossycoat says, but she’s not for going, she says. And she sticks to dat.
When she gets back into de kitchen, you may depend on it, de t’other sarvants wants to know why she’d bin sent for. Had she got notice, or what was it? So she telt ’em de master and mistress ’ed ext her would she like to go to the dance wid ’em. “ What? You?” dey says. “ It’s unbelievable. If it hed been one o’ we, now, dat’d be different. But you! Why, you’d nivver be relowed in, as you’d greasy all the gentlemen’s clo’es, if dere was any as’ld dance wid a scullery-girl; and de ladies, dey’d be forced to howld dere noses w’en dey passed by you, to be sure dey would.” No, dey couldn’t believe, dey said, as de master and mistress had iwer ext her to go to de ball wid ’em. She must be lying, dey said, and down come de skimmer a-top of her head, pop, pop, pop.
Next night, de master and de mistress, and deir son, dis time, ext her to go to de dance. It was a grand affair de night before, dey said, and she sud er bin dere. It was going to be still grander to-night, dey said, and dey begged of her to come wid ’em, ’specially de young master. But no, she says, on account of her rags, and her grease, and dirt, she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t; and even de young master couldn’t persuade her, though it warn’t for de want o’ trying. The t’other sarvants just didn’t believe her, when she telt ’em about her being invited agen to de dance, and about de young master being wery pressing.
“Hark to her!” dey says. “What’ll de upstart say next! And all dam lies,” dey says. Den one’n ’em, wid a mouth like a pig-trough, and legs like a cart-horse, catches howld’n de skimmer, and down it comes, pop, pop, pop, on Mossycoat’s head.
Dat night, Mossycoat decided as she’d go to de dance in right proper style, all on her own, and wi’out nobody knowing it. De first thing she does is to put all de t’other sarvants into a trance; she just touches each on ’em, unnoticed, as she moves about, and dey all falls asleep under a spell as soon as she does, and can’t wake up again on deir own; de spell has to be broke by somebody wid de power, same as she has through her magic coat, or has got it some other way. Next Mossycoat has a real good wash; she’d niver bin relowed to afore, sin’ she’d bin at de hall, as de t’other sarvants was retermined to mek and to keep her as greasy and dirty as dey could. Den she goes upstairs to her bedroom, throws off her working clo’es and shoes, and puts on her white satin dress wid de gowld sprigs, her silver slippers, and her gowld crown. In course, she had Mossycoat on underneath. So as soon as she was ready, she jus’ wished hersel’ at de dance, and dere she was, wery near as soon as de words was spoke. She did jus’ feel hersel, rising up and flying through de elements, but only for a moment. Den she was in de ballroom.
De young master sees her standing der, and once he catched sight’n her he can’t tek his eyes off her; he’d niwer sin anybody as han’some afore, or as beautifully dressed. “Who is she?” he exes his mother; but she doesn’t know, she tells him.
“Can’t you find out, mother? ” he says, “can’t you go and talk to her?”
His mother sees as he’ll niwer rest till she does, so she goes and interdooses hersel’ to de young lady, and exes her who she is, where she comes from, and such as dat; but all she could git out’n her was as she come from a place where dey hit her on de head wid de skimmer. Den presently, de young master he goes over and interdooses hissel’, but she doesn’t tell him her name nor nothing; and when he exes her to hev a dance wid him, she says, no, she’d rather not. He stops aside of her though, and keeps exing her time and agen, and at de finish she says as she will, and links up wid him. Dey dances once, up and down de room; den she says she mus’ go, dere and den. “Alright,” he says—dere was nothing else he could say—“I’ll come and see you off.” But she jus’ wished she was at home, and dere she was. No seeing her off for de young master, dere warn’t; she jus’ went from his side in de twinkle of an eye, leaving him standing dere gaping wid wonderment. Thinking she might be in de hall or de porch a-waiting of her carriage he goes to see, but dere’s no sign on her anywheres inside or out, and nobody as he exted sin her go. He went back to de ballroom, but he can’t think o’ nothing or nobody but her, and all de time he’s a-wanting to go home.
When Mossycoat gits back home, she meks sure as all de t’other sarvants is still in a trance. Den she goes up and changes into her working get-up, and after when she’d done dat, she comes down into de kitchen agen, and touches each’n de sarvants. Dat wakens ’em, as you might say: anyways, dey starts up, wondering whatever time o’ day it is, and how long dey bin asleep.
Mossycoat tells ’em, and drops a hint as she may have to let de mistress know. Dey begs on her not to let on about ’em, and most’n ’em thinks to give her things if she won’t. Owld things, dey was, but wid a bit o’ wear in ’em still—a skirt, a pair o’ shoes, stockings, stays, and what not. So Mossycoat promises as she won’t tell on ’em. An’ ’at night, dey don’t hit her on de head wid de skimmer.
All nex’ day de young master is unrestful. He can’t settle his mind to nothing but de young lady as he’d fell in love wid last night at de wery first sight’n her. He was wondering all de time would she be dere agen to-night, and would she vanish de same as she done last night; and thinking how could he stop her, or catch up wid her if she was for doing dis a second time.
He must find out where she lives, he thinks, else how’s he to go on after when de dance is over. He’d die, he tells his mother, if he can’t git her for his wife; he’s dat madly in love wid her. “Well,” says his mother, “I thought as she was a nice modest girl; but she wouldn’t say who or what she was, or where she came from, except it was a place where dey hit her on de head wid de skimmer.”
“She’s a bit of a myst’ry, I know,” says de young master, “but dat don’t signify as I want her any de less. I must hev her, mother,” he says, “whoivver and whativver she is; and dat’s de dear God’s truth, mother, strike me dead if it ain’t.”
Women sarvants ’es long ears, and big mouths, and you may be sure as it wasn’t long afore de young master, and dis wonderful han’some lady he’d fell in love wid, was all de talk in de kitchen.
“And fancy you, Mossycoat, thinking as he specially wanted you to go to de dance,” dey says, and starts in on her proper, meking all manner o’ nasty sarcastical remarks, and hitting her on de head wid de skimmer pop, pop, pop for lying to ’em (as dey said). It was de same agen later on, after when de master and mistress hed sent for her, and ext her once more to go to de dance wid ’em, and once more she’d defused. It was her last chance, dey said—dat was de sarvants—and a lot more besides, as ain’t worth repeating. And down came de skimmer atop of her head, pop, pop, pop. Den she put de whole devil’s breed ’n ’em into a trance like she done a night afore, and got hersel’ ready to go to de dance, de only difference being as dis time she put her tother dress on, de one med o’ silk de colour of all de birds o’ de air.
She’s in de ballroom now, Mossycoat is. De young master bin waiting and watching for her. As soon as he sees her, he exes his father to send for de fastest horse in his stable, and hev it kept standing ready saddled at de front door. Den he exes his mother to go over and talk to de young lady for a bit. She does dat, but can’t larn no more about her, ’an she did the night afore.
Den de young master hears as his horse is ready at de door; so he goes over to de young lady, and exes her for a dance. She says jus’ de same as de night afore, “No,” at first, but “Yes,” at the finish, and jus’ as den, she says she mus’ go after when dey’ve danced only once de length’n de room an’ back.
But dis time, he keeps howld’n her till dey gits outside. Then she wishes hersel’ at home, and is dere nearly as soon as she’s spoken. De young master felt her rise into de air, but couldn’t do nothing to stop her. But p’raps he did jus’ touch her foot, as she dropped one slipper: I couldn’t be sure as he did; it looks a bit like it, though. He picks de slipper up; but as for catching up wid her, it would be easier by far to catch up wid de wind on a blowy night. As soon as she gits home, Mossycoat changes back into her owld things; den she looses de tother sarvants from de spell she’d put on ’em. Dey’ve been asleep agen, dey thinks, and offers her one a shilling, another a half a crown, a third a week’s wage, if she won’t tell on ’em; and she promises as she won’t.
De young master’s in bed next day, a-dying for de love of de lady as lost one ’n her silver slippers de night afore. De doctors can’t do him not de leastest good. So it was give out what his state was, and as it was only de lady able to wear de slipper as could save his life; and if she’d come forrad, he’d marry her. De slipper, as I said earlier on, was only but three inches long, or dereabouts. Ladies came from near and far, some wid big feet and some wid small, but none small enough to git it on, however much dey pinched and squeezed. Poorer people came as well, but it was jus’ de same wid dem. And in course, all de sarvants tried, but dey was out’n altogither. De young master was a-dying. Was dere nobody else, his mother ext, nobody at all, rich or poor? “No,” dey telt her, everybody tried, excepting it was Mossycoat.
“Tell her to come at once,” says de mistress.
So dey fetched her.
“Try dis slipper on,” she says—dat’s de mistress.
Mossycoat slips her foot into it easy enough: it fits her exac’ly. De young master jumps out o’ bed, and is jus’ a-going to tek her in his arms. “Stop,” she says, and runs off; but afore long, she’s back agen in her satin dress wid gowld sprigs, her gowld crown, and both her silver slippers.
De young master is jus’ a-going to tek her in his arms. “Stop,” she says, and agen she runs off. Dis time she comes back in her silk dress de colour of all de birds o’ de air. She don’t stop him dis time, and as de saying used to be, he nearly eats her. After when dey’s all settled down agen, and is talking quiet-like, dere’s one or two things as de master and mistress and de young master’ld like to know. How did she git to de dance, and back agen, i’ no time, they exed her. “Just wishing,” she says; and she tells ’em all as I’ve tell you about the magic coat her mother ’ed med for her, and de powers as it give her if she cared to use ’em. “Yes, dat explained everything,” dey says. Den dey bethinks deirselves of her saying as she came from where dey hit her on de head wid de skimmer. What did she mean by dat, dey wants to know. She meant just what she said, she tell ’em: it was al’ays coming down on her head, pop, pop, pop. Dey was right angry when dey heard dat, and de whole’n de kitchen sarvants was telt to go, and de dogs sent after ’em, to drive de varmints right away from de place.
As soon as dey could, Mossycoat an’ de young master got married, and she’d a coach and six to ride in, aye, ten if she liked, for you may be sure as she’d everything as she fancied. Dey lived happy ever after, and had a basketful o’ children. I was dere when the owld son come of age a-playing de fiddle. But dat was many years back, and I shouldn’t wonder if de owld master and mistress isn’t dead by now, though I’ve niwer heard tell as dey was.