"No, you must call it The Fair Fountain."
"And, last of all, what would you call the house?"
"Oh, I would call it house."
"No, you must call it The Castle of Mungo."
The shoemaker, after giving this lesson to his apprentice, told him that the first day he had occasion to use all these words at once, and was able to do so without making a mistake, the apprenticeship would be at an end.
The apprentice was not long in making an occasion for using the words.
One morning he got out of bed before his master, and lighted the fire; he then tied some bits of paper to the tail of the cat, and threw the animal into the fire. The cat ran out with the papers all in a blaze, landed in the peatstack, which caught fire.
The apprentice hurried to his master and cried out, "Master above all masters, start up and jump into your struntifers, and call upon Sir John the Great and the fair Lady Permoumadam, for Carle Gropus has caught hold of Fire Evangelist, and he is out to Mount Potāgo, and, if you don't get help from the Fair Fountain, the whole of Castle Mungo will be burned to the ground."
So ends the story of Carle Gropus.
I have heard, about Keith, the word Carle Gropus used as a bugbear to keep children quiet, and also for a big stupid man, youth, or boy.
A SOUTH AFRICAN RED RIDING-HOOD.
THE following Bechuana tale has some points of likeness to the story of Little Red Riding-Hood. It was taken down by MM. Arbousset et Daumas (Voyage d'Exploration au Nord-est de la Colonie du Cap de Bonne Espérance. Paris, 1842. P. 119, sqq.)