Jack the Cunning Thief

A poor farmer had three sons, and on the same day all three set out to seek their fortunes. The two eldest were sensible, hard-working young men. The youngest, Jack, had never done much at home that was any use. He loved setting snares for rabbits, following hare tracks in the snow, and inventing all sorts of funny tricks that annoyed people at first and then set them laughing.

The brothers parted at a crossroads, and Jack took the loneliest road. The day turned wet, and by nightfall he was soaked and weary when he came to a lonely house a little way off the road. A bleary-eyed old woman sat by the fire. “What do you want?”

“My supper and a bed, of course.”

“You can’t have them. The owners of this house are six honest men who are out most nights till three or four in the morning, and if they find you here they’ll skin you alive at the very least.”

“Well,” said Jack, “their very most couldn’t be much worse. Give me something from the cupboard, for here I’m staying. Skinning is hardly worse than catching my death of cold in a ditch on a night like this.” She grew frightened and gave him a good supper, and as he went to bed he warned her that if she let any of the six honest men disturb him, she would be sorry for it.

When he woke in the morning, six threatening rogues were standing round his bed. He leaned on his elbow and looked at them with great scorn.

“Who are you,” said the chief, “and what’s your business?”

“My name is Master Thief, and my business just now is finding apprentices and workmen. If you turn out any good, maybe I’ll give you a few lessons.”

They were a little cowed by this. “Well, get up,” said the leader, “and after breakfast we’ll see who is master and who is servant.”

They had just finished breakfast when they saw a farmer driving a fine big goat to market. “Will any of you steal that goat from its owner before he’s out of the wood,” said Jack, “without using the least violence?”

“I couldn’t,” said one, and “I couldn’t,” said another.

“I’m your master,” said Jack, “and I’ll do it.” He slipped out through the trees to a bend in the road and laid his right shoe in the very middle of it. Then he ran on to the next bend, put down his left shoe and hid.

When the farmer saw the first shoe, he said to himself, “That would be worth something if it had its partner, but on its own it’s worth nothing.” He walked on until he reached the second shoe. “What a fool I was not to pick up the other! I’ll go back for it.” He tied the goat to a sapling in the hedge and hurried back. But Jack, behind a tree, already had the first shoe on his foot, and when the man was round the bend he picked up the second, untied the goat and led it away through the wood. The poor man could not find the first shoe, and when he came back he could find neither the second shoe nor his goat. “A thousand curses! What will I do, after promising Johanna a shawl? I’ll have to drive another beast to market without her knowing. I’d never hear the end of it if Joan found out what a fool I’d been.”

The thieves were full of admiration and begged Jack to tell them how he had tricked the farmer, but he would not. Before long they saw the poor man driving a fine fat sheep the same way. “Who will steal that sheep before it’s out of the wood, and use no rough stuff?” said Jack. Nobody would try. “I will,” said Jack. “Give me a good rope.”

The farmer was jogging along, brooding on his bad luck, when he saw a man hanging from a branch over the road. “Lord save us! That body wasn’t there an hour ago.” About half a quarter of a mile further on, there was another body hanging over the road. “God keep us from harm, am I in my right mind?” Round the next bend, about the same distance on, hung a third. “Oh, murder! I’m going mad. What would bring three hanged men so close together? I’ll go back and see if the others are still there.” He tied the sheep to a sapling and went back. But once he was round the bend, down came the hanged man, untied the sheep and drove it through the wood to the robbers’ house.

You can imagine how the farmer felt when he found nobody, dead or alive, and no sheep, and not even the rope it had been tied with. “Oh, unlucky day! What will Joan say now? My morning wasted, and the goat and the sheep lost! I must sell something to pay for the shawl. The fat bullock is in the nearest field, and she won’t see me take it.”

The robbers were astonished when Jack came into the yard with the sheep. “If you do one more trick like this,” said the captain, “I’ll hand the command over to you.”

Soon they saw the farmer pass by with a fat bullock. “Who will bring that bullock here without violence?” said Jack. Nobody would, so off he went into the wood.

The farmer was near the spot where he had seen the first shoe when he heard a goat bleating in the wood to his right. He pricked up his ears, and next he heard a sheep baa-ing. “Blood alive! Maybe those are my own that I lost!” The bleating and baa-ing went on. “There they are, sure as a gun!” He tied the bullock to a sapling in the hedge and went off into the wood. Whenever he came near the sound, it seemed to be a little farther ahead, and he followed it until, about half a mile from where he had left the bullock, the cries stopped altogether. He searched until he was worn out, then went to fetch his bullock, but there was not a sign of it anywhere.

This time, when the thieves saw Jack bringing in his prize, they could not help shouting, “Jack must be our chief!” They spent the rest of the day feasting and drinking. Before they went to bed, they showed Jack the cave where their money was hidden and another cave full of disguises, and they swore to obey him.

About a week later, at breakfast, they asked Jack to mind the house while they went to the fair at Mochurry. “We haven’t had a spree for ages. You can have your turn whenever you like.”

“Never say it twice,” said Jack, and off they went.

When they had gone, Jack said to the robbers’ housekeeper, “Do those fellows ever give you a present?”

“Ah, catch them at it! Indeed they don’t.”

“Then come with me, and I’ll make you a rich woman.” He took her to the treasure cave, and while she stood gazing in delight at the heaps of gold and silver, he filled his pockets as full as they would go, put more into a little bag, walked out and locked the door on her, leaving the key in the lock.

Then he put on a fine suit of clothes, took the goat, the sheep and the bullock, and drove them to the farmer’s house. Joan and her husband were at the door, and when they saw the animals they clapped their hands and laughed for joy.

“Do you know who owns these beasts, neighbours?”

“Don’t we just! They’re ours.”

“I found them wandering in the wood. Is that bag with ten guineas in it, hanging round the goat’s neck, yours too?”

“Faith, it isn’t.”

“Well, keep it as a gift from heaven. I don’t want it.”

“Heaven go with you, good gentleman!”

Jack travelled on and reached his father’s house at dusk. “God save all here!”

“God save you kindly, sir!”

“Could I have a night’s lodging?”

“Oh, sir, our place isn’t fit for a gentleman like you.”

“Musha, don’t you know your own son?”

Their eyes opened wide, and they fought over who would hug him first. “But Jack, darling, where did you get these fine clothes?”

“You might as well ask where I got all this money,” he said, emptying his pockets on the table. They were badly frightened, but when he told them his adventures they felt easier, and everyone went to bed content.

“Father,” said Jack the next morning, “go to the landlord and tell him I want to marry his daughter.”

“Faith, I’m afraid he’d set the dogs on me. And if he asks how you made your money, what will I say?”

“Tell him I’m a master thief and there’s no one to equal me in the three kingdoms, that I’m worth a thousand pounds, and every penny taken from the biggest rogues not yet hanged. Say it when the young lady is there.”

“It’s a strange message you’re sending me with. I’m afraid it won’t end well.”

The old man came back two hours later. “Well, what news?”

“Strange enough. The young lady didn’t seem a bit unwilling. I suppose this isn’t the first time you’ve talked to her. And the squire laughed and said you’d have to steal the goose off the spit in his kitchen next Sunday, and then he’d think about it.”

“Oh, that won’t be hard.”

The next Sunday, after early Mass, the squire and all his household were in the kitchen with the goose turning before the fire. The door opened, and a miserable old beggar with a big bag on his back put his head in. “Would the mistress have anything for me after dinner, your honour?”

“Of course. There’s no room in here just now. Sit in the porch for a while.”

“God bless your honour and your family!”

Soon someone by the window cried, “Oh, sir, there’s a big hare racing round the yard like the devil! Shall we run out and catch him?”

“Catch a hare, indeed! Much chance you’d have. Sit where you are.”

That hare escaped into the garden, but Jack, in the beggar’s clothes, let another out of his bag. “Oh, master, there he is, still running round! He can’t get away. Let’s have a chase. The front door is locked from inside, so Mr Jack can’t get in.”

“Stay where you are, I tell you.”

A few minutes later the man shouted that the hare was still there, though it was really the third one Jack had just let loose. By then nobody could be held back. Out ran every one of them, the squire behind them.

“Shall I turn the spit, your honour, while they catch the little hare?” said the beggar.

“Do, and don’t let anyone in, for your life.”

“Faith, I won’t, you can be sure of that.”

The third hare got away like the others, and when they all came back from the chase, there was neither beggar nor goose in the kitchen. “Bad cess to you, Jack,” said the squire, “you’ve got the better of me this time.”

While they were wondering how to make another dinner, a messenger came from Jack’s father inviting the squire, his wife and his daughter to walk across the fields and share what God had sent. The family had no mean, snobbish pride, so over they went, and they had a dinner of roast turkey, roast beef and their own roast goose. The squire nearly burst his waistcoat laughing at the trick, and Jack’s fine clothes and good manners did nothing to lessen the liking the young lady already had for him.

Over their punch at the old oak table in the neat little parlour, the squire said, “You can’t be sure of my daughter, Jack, unless you steal my six horses from under the six men who will be guarding them in the stable tomorrow night.”

“I’d do more than that for one kind look from the young lady,” said Jack, and the young lady blushed as red as fire.

On Monday night the six horses stood in their stalls with a man on each, and a good glass of whiskey inside each man, and the door left wide open for Jack. For a long while they were merry, joking and singing and pitying the poor fellow. But as the small hours crept on and the whiskey wore off, they began to shiver and wish it were morning.

Then an apparent elderly beggar carrying half a dozen bags came to the door. “Ah, kind-hearted Christians, would you let me in and give me a wisp of straw in the corner? The life will freeze out of me if you don’t.”

They saw no harm in it, and she made herself snug. Soon she pulled out a big black bottle and took a swig. She coughed, smacked her lips and seemed a good deal more comfortable, and the men could not take their eyes off her. “Lads,” she said, “I’d offer you a drop, only you might think me too forward.”

“Oh, never mind manners,” said one. “We’ll take it, and thank you.”

She handed over the bottle, and they passed it round, and the last man was polite enough to leave half a glass in the bottom for her. They all said it was the best drop that ever passed their lips. “Indeed, my dears,” said she, “I’m glad to show how I value your kindness. I have another bottle, so pass it round while I finish what the decent man left me.”

What they drank from the first bottle only gave them a taste for more, and by the time the last man reached the bottom of the second, the first man was fast asleep in the saddle, for the second bottle had a sleeping draught mixed into the whiskey. The beggar woman lifted each man down and laid him snugly in the manger or under it, pulled a stocking over every horse’s hoof and led the horses silently away to one of Jack’s father’s outhouses.

The first thing the squire saw next morning was Jack riding up the avenue, with five horses walking behind his own. “Confound you, Jack! And confound the blockheads who let you outwit them!” He went out to the stable, and the poor fellows looked very foolish when at last they could be properly woken.

“After all,” said the squire at breakfast, “it was no great thing to outwit such numbskulls. I’ll be riding on the common from one o’clock to three today, and if you can trick me out of the horse I’m riding, I’ll say you deserve to be my son-in-law.”

“I’d do more than that for the honour, even if there was no love in the matter,” said Jack, and the young lady hid her face behind her saucer.

The squire rode up and down until he was tired, with no sign of Jack. He was thinking of going home when he saw one of his servants running from the house like a madman. “Oh, master, master,” he shouted, “ride home if you want to see the poor mistress alive! I’m running for the surgeon. She fell down two flights of stairs, and her neck or her hips or both her arms are broken, and she can’t speak, and it’ll be a mercy if there’s breath left in her. Ride as fast as the horse will go!”

“But hadn’t you better take the horse? It’s a mile and a half to the surgeon’s.”

“Oh, anything you like, master. Oh, my poor dear mistress, that I should see this day!”

“Here, stop your noise and be off like wildfire! Oh, my darling, my darling, what a trial!”

He ran home like a fury and was surprised to see no commotion outside. When he burst into the hall and then into the parlour, his wife and daughter, sewing at the table, screamed at his wild rush and the wild look on his face.

“Oh, my darling!” he said, when he could speak. “What’s this? Are you hurt? Didn’t you fall down the stairs? What happened? Tell me!”

“Why, nothing at all has happened, thank God, since you rode out. Where did you leave the horse?”

Nobody could describe the state he was in for the next quarter of an hour, between joy that his wife was safe, anger with Jack, and shame at being fooled. Then he saw his horse coming up the avenue with a little boy in the saddle, his feet in the stirrup leathers. The servant did not show his face for a week, but what did he care, with Jack’s ten gold guineas in his pocket?

Jack did not show his nose until the next morning, and he got a strange welcome. “That was foul play,” said the squire. “I’ll never forgive you for the fright you gave me. But I’ve been so happy ever since that I think I’ll give you just one more test. If you can take the sheet from under my wife and me tonight, the wedding can be tomorrow.”

“We’ll try,” said Jack. “But if you keep my bride from me any longer, I’ll steal her away even if she’s guarded by fiery dragons.”

That night, when the squire and his wife were in bed and the moon was shining through the window, he saw a head rise over the sill to peep in and then bob down out of sight. “That’s Jack,” said the squire. “I’ll give him a fright,” and he pointed a gun at the lower pane.

“Oh Lord, my dear,” said his wife, “you wouldn’t shoot the brave fellow?”

“Not for a kingdom. There’s nothing but powder in it.”

Up came the head, bang went the gun, down dropped the body, and there was a great thud on the gravel path. “Oh Lord,” cried the lady, “poor Jack is killed or crippled for life!”

“I hope not,” said the squire, and down the stairs he ran. He did not stop to shut the door, but opened the gate and ran into the garden. A moment later his wife heard his voice at the bedroom door, sooner than she thought he could have reached the window and come up. “Wife, wife, the sheet, the sheet! He isn’t dead, I hope, but he’s bleeding like a pig. I must wipe it off as well as I can and get someone to help me carry him in.” She pulled the sheet off the bed and threw it to him, and down he ran like lightning.

He had hardly had time to reach the garden when the squire came up to the room, dressed in his shirt just as he went out. “High hanging to you, Jack, for an out-and-out rogue!”

“Rogue?” said his wife. “Isn’t the poor fellow all cut and bruised?”

“I wouldn’t much care if he was. Do you know what was bobbing up and down at the window and thumped down so hard on the path? A suit of clothes stuffed with straw and a couple of stones.”

“Then what did you want with the sheet just now, to wipe away his blood, if he was only a man of straw?”

“Sheet, woman? I wanted no sheet!”

“Well, wanted or not, I threw it to you, and you standing outside the door.”

“Oh, Jack, Jack, you persistent rogue!” said the squire. “There’s no use fighting you. We must manage without the sheet for one night, and we’ll have the wedding tomorrow to get ourselves out of trouble.” So married they were, and Jack made a very good husband, and the squire and his lady never tired of praising their son-in-law, Jack the Cunning Thief.

About this tale

Jacobs’s notes in More Celtic Fairy Tales name Patrick Kennedy’s Irish stories as the source, and compare the tale with Campbell’s Highland “Shifty Lad” and the Norse “Master Thief.” Scholars of his day connected all these stories with the tale of King Rhampsinitus’s clever thief told by the ancient Greek historian Herodotus.

Jacobs also notes that a version, “Sharaf the Thief,” was collected in Kashmir, and that the story had been heard among tramps in London workhouses. He argued that the same tricks turn up in so many places that the versions could not have been invented separately.

Read the original: Joseph Jacobs, More Celtic Fairy Tales (Project Gutenberg ebook 34453)

For older readers: threats of skinning, staged hangings, drugged drink, false news of a severe injury and a gunshot used to frighten someone. These dangerous tricks are comic inventions, not activities to imitate.

Reading the story closely

Jack wins the thieves’ trust by causing an ordinary farmer real losses, then repairs those losses with the returned animals and extra money. Compare that restitution with his claim that his fortune comes entirely from rogues. The later restoration changes the farmer’s outcome, but does not make the original thefts harmless while they occur.

Several tricks depend on one thing being mistaken for another: separate shoes seem a recoverable pair, successive appearances seem three bodies, and three hares seem one elusive animal. The final horse and sheet tricks work differently: Jack exploits concern for an injured wife and an injured young man. Sort the tricks by the belief each exploits, then consider why the squire calls the false report about his wife ‘foul play.’ Cleverness and fair treatment are separate questions, even when the characters reconcile.

Talk about it

• How did Jack trick the farmer out of his goat, his sheep and his bullock?
• Why did Jack give the animals and ten guineas back to the farmer?
• Which of Jack’s tricks on the squire do you think was the cleverest, and why?

More stories like this

• Jack and His Master — another Irish Jack who wins by quick thinking
• Jack and His Comrades — a Jack who outwits a band of robbers
• The Clever Wife — a Bengali tale full of bold, clever tricks