The Coming of the Unicorn by Duncan Williamson Read Free Book Online Page B

John, and he said to him, “That is a lovely ring you’re wearing.”
    “Ah, yes,” said John, “it’s a beautiful ring.”
    He said, “Will you sell it?”
    “Oh, no,” John says, “it’s far too beautiful to sell. It’s far too beautiful!”
    “Oh,” says the rich merchant, “it’s something like that I’ve been looking for, for many’s a year. I would really give you a lot of money for that ring.”
    “Well,” says John, “how much would you really give me for it?”
    He said, “I’ll give you a thousand silver shillings for your ring.”
    “Done,” says John, “you can have it!
    And the rich merchant paid John a thousand silver shillings for his ring. John and his wife had plenty money to keep them going for the rest of their days.
    And that’s the end of my story.

The Miser’s Gold
    A long time ago in a small village there lived a poor widow-woman who had only one child. She used to find bits of jobs in the village to help keep her and the child alive, but things began to get very bad with her. Work was finally running out. She tried to take up sewing and washing and everything else to help her and the baby survive, but it was no good. There was no more work for her. This is when my story really starts – on Christmas Eve.
    The mother raiked round the house for something to make a bite for the wee child but it was no use. She could find nothing. And she was very sad about this. She sat down and started to weep.
    The wee child was about three years old and she spoke to her mother, “Mommy, why are you crying?”
    â€œWell,” she said, “I am crying because I have nothing to give you and this is Christmas Eve. All the children in the village are preparing for their great Christmas parties, and their mommies and daddies have been down the village and bought all these wonderful presents. Why is it on Christmas Eve that you and I have to be so poor that I haven’t even a single bite to give you, never mind a present?” And she started to cry again.
    Then, she thought and wondered what she would do. She said to herself, “Probably if I go down the street I might meet some of my friends and I could maybe borrow or beg something off them.”
    But as it was a cold winter’s day she didn’t want to take the weechild with her. So, she called the child to her, “You wait, dearie, by the fire there, and mommy will go down the street and see if she can find some of her friends she used to know. Perhaps they will give me something or I can borrow some money from them and I will get you a present for Christmas – when Christmas Morning comes in I will have a present for you!”
    So, the wee child sat by the fire and the mother wandered away down the village. Every place she went everyone was sitting behind their locked doors and their lighted windows preparing for Christmas Morning. Christmas trees, Christmas lights up, everything was so nice. And she walked the streets for nearly two hours but could find not one single soul she knew.
    Now, by this time the wee child got fed up waiting for her mommy to come back, and the fire burnt low, nearly out. The house was beginning to get dark. She got up… and she was such a beautiful wee child she was, with gold, hair, a head of golden curls. She walked out the door and down the street to look for her mommy. There was snow on the ground and she didn’t know where she was going… Eventually she was lost. But, she saw this light up a path leading up to this house. One light in the window. She walked up and right into the house to the fire. The fire was burning bright. The room was bare, bare as could be – one table, one chair. On the floor at the front of the fire was a sheepskin rug. The wee girl sat down and heated her hands. She sat and then started to cry for her mommy. But no one ever heard her, no one bothered. And she lay down on the sheepskin rug and fell asleep.
    Now, unknown to this