Frances Browne
Once upon a time, when the air was cold and the ground was white with snow, two shoemakers went out to look for firewood. Their names were Scrub and Spare, and they lived in a rough little hut with a broken door and a roof of sticks. They hardly ever had shoes to mend for anyone, and so they were as poor as poor could be.
“It is Christmas Day,” said Scrub. “Perhaps we’ll find a very big log, so that we can have a really good fire today.”
But if there were any big logs about, they were hidden by the snow. So Scrub and Spare had to look for a long while before they found anything at all.
“What about that?” said Scrub at last, pointing to an old tree root sticking out of the snow.
“We’ll chop it down,” replied Spare. “If we can drag it home, it will give us a bright fire all day.”
They worked hard with their axes. They took the wood home and put it on the fire.
Soon it was blazing and crackling merrily.
“Ah! This is fine!” said Scrub, warming his hands before the blaze.
“It makes even this poor old hut seem cosy and warm,” added Spare with a smile.
Then suddenly from the blazing tree root came a sound, “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” Scrub and Spare jumped to their feet in surprise.
“What was that?” they cried. Again from the burning tree root came the sound.
“Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
Then came a flapping of wings and a shower of sparks, and out of the fire flew a cuckoo.
“Good day,” it said. “What time of year is this?”
Scrub and Spare were so surprised to hear it talk, that they were hardly able to speak.
“It’s Christmas,” whispered Spare.
“Christmas!” said the cuckoo. “I went to sleep in that old tree root at the end of last summer, and when I felt the warmth of your fire, I thought spring had come.”
He looked at the tree root burning in the flames, and added, “As my home is on fire, perhaps you will let me sleep in your hut till the spring.”
“Of course,” said Scrub and Spare. “We will make a hole for you, under the roof. But first, eat some bread, and drink some water with us.”
So the cuckoo took a long drink of water, and ate a slice of bread. Then he flew into a hole in the roof, and went to sleep.
He slept so long, that the brothers almost forgot about him, until one spring day they heard, “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” And out from the hole in the roof flew the cuckoo. “Now I must tell the world that spring is here,” he said. “I shall travel far, far away, and next spring I will come back to you. If you tell me what you would like I will bring you a present from the end of the world.” Scrub was thinking of asking for a diamond, but Spare said, “What is there at the end of the world?” Cuckoo thought for a moment. “There are two trees growing by a well,” he replied. “One has leaves of pure gold, and the other has leaves of green. A leaf from the golden tree could be sold for a great deal of money, but a green leaf would give you a merry heart, wherever you might be.” “Oh, please, Cuckoo,” said Scrub, “bring me a leaf of gold from the golden tree.” “Bring me a green leaf from the merry tree,” said Spare. “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” said the bird, and away it flew, over fields and forests, over mountains and seas, to the end of the world. Summer passed, and winter came, with cold winds and deep snow. No one brought shoes for the brothers to mend, so they were still as poor as poor could be. Then on the first of April, early in the morning, there came a rapping at the broken door, and a voice crying, “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” The shoemakers hurried to open the door, and in flew the cuckoo. He carried two leaves in his beak. One was fresh and green, but the other was very large, and made of pure gold.
“Here are your presents,” said he, giving the gold leaf to scrub and the green leaf to Spare. “Now, please may I have a drink of water and a slice of bread, for I must tell the world that spring is here.”
Spare gave the cuckoo a jug of water and a slice of bread, but Scrub held up the golden leaf so that it shone in the April sunshine.
“How stupid you are,” he said to his brother. “Fancy having a green leaf, when you might have had one made of pure gold like this!”
The cuckoo drank the water, and ate the slice of bread. Then he said,
“Now I must go, but I will come back next spring. If you tell me what you would like, I will bring you a present from the end of the world.”
“Please bring me a leaf from the golden tree,” said Scrub.
“A green leaf from the merry tree,” said Spare.
“Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” called the cuckoo, and away it flew, over fields and forests, over mountains and seas, to the end of the world.
As soon as it had gone, Scrub said,
“Really, Spare, you are stupid! What good can a green leaf do? I am going out to spend my gold.”
So Scrub bought himself a large house and a smart shop in the village, and people brought him their shoes to mend. He wore fine clothes, and had rich food to eat. Yet with all these things he was not happy.
Spare still lived in the old hut, and no one brought him shoes to mend. The hut became older and more broken. Spare grew thinner and more ragged, but he always had a smile, and everyone and now happy he looked.
On the first of April every year, the cuckoo came back, with a golden leaf for Scrub, and a green leaf for Spare. Scrub spent the golden leaves, and soon had everything he needed, but Spare kept the green ones, and was as happy as could be.
Then Scrub came knocking at the door of the hut.
“Hullo, Scrub,” said Spare. “It’s a long time since you came to see me.”
“Yes,” replied Scrub. “I thought you were foolish to ask the cuckoo for green leaves instead of gold, but perhaps you were right after all.”
“Perhaps I was,” said Spare with a smile. “But all the same, I am lonely here in the hut by myself. Why not come back, Scrub, and share it with me? I will make people happy, and you can mend their shoes.”
So Scrub and Spare lived together in the rough little hut once more, and people came from far and near to visit them. Scrub mended their shoes, and Spare made the sad people gay, and the troubled ones happy.
Even the hut changed. Red and white roses grew around its door, and sweet-smelling flowers climbed over the roof. And every April the cuckoo came just as before, but now he brought a green leaf for Spare and one for Scrub.
“One green leaf from the merry tree,” said Scrub, “is worth a hundred from the golden tree.”
So Scrub and Spare and everyone else in the land lived happily ever after; and of course the Christmas cuckoo lived happily ever after too.
(From Granny’s Wonderful Chair)
