Father Grumbler
by Andrew Lang · from The Brown Fairy Book
Adapted Version
Once, there was a man called Father Grumbler. He was always sad. He had many kids. He worked hard all day. He grumbled about his bad luck. He was never happy with what he had.
He did not want to work on Sundays. He went to a place to play. He wasted his time there. He felt more sad later. His grumbles grew louder.
He went to see a Kind Old Man. He lived in a cave. Father Grumbler asked about his bad luck. He wanted a better life.
The Kind Old Man gave him a magic basket. "Say 'basket, give food' for food," he said. "Say 'enough' to stop. Do not show it to anyone."
Father Grumbler took the basket. He tried it on the road. Food came out! He said "enough!" and it stopped. He ate a big dinner. He felt happy for a moment.
He went to an inn. He showed the basket to the barkeep. He made food for all. The barkeep and his wife wanted the basket. They looked at it with greedy eyes.
They made him sleepy with a game. They swapped the basket. Father Grumbler went home. He did not notice the trick.
He showed the basket to his kin. He said the magic words. Nothing happened. He was very angry. He knew it was a trick. His family looked sad.
He went back to the Kind Old Man. The old man gave him a magic hen. "Say 'hen, show coins' for shiny coins," he said. "Keep it secret. Do not show anyone."
Father Grumbler took the hen to the inn. He showed the hen. It made shiny coins! The barkeep and his wife wanted the hen. Their eyes grew wide.
They made him sleepy again. They swapped the hen. Father Grumbler went home. He was tired and did not see.
He showed the hen to his kin. He said the magic words. Nothing happened. He was very upset. He ran back to the cave. His feet were fast.
The Kind Old Man was not happy. He gave him a magic tickling stick. "Say 'stick, tickle fast' to tickle," he said. "Listen well this time. Be careful."
Father Grumbler went to the inn. He asked for his basket and hen back. The barkeep said no. He laughed a mean laugh.
Father Grumbler used the tickling stick. "Tickle, tickle, be quick!" he said. The stick tickled the barkeep and his wife. It tickled Father Grumbler too! They all laughed and jumped. They could not stop.
The Kind Old Man came. He stopped the tickling. He took back the basket, the hen, and the stick. He looked at Father Grumbler.
"You did not listen," the old man said. "You must be happy with what you have and listen well. Grumbling only makes things worse."
The Kind Old Man left. Father Grumbler had nothing. He only had his grumbles. Be thankful for what you have.
Original Story
Father Grumbler
Once upon a time there lived a man who had nearly as many children as
there were sparrows in the garden. He had to work very hard all day to
get them enough to eat, and was often tired and cross, and abused
everything and everybody, so that people called him “Father Grumbler.”
By-and-by he grew weary of always working, and on Sundays he lay a long
while in bed, instead of going to church. Then after a time he found it
dull to sit so many hours by himself, thinking of nothing but how to
pay the rent that was owing, and as the tavern across the road looked
bright and cheerful, he walked in one day and sat down with his
friends. “It was just to chase away Care,” he said; but when he came
out, hours and hours after, Care came out with him.
Father Grumbler entered his house feeling more dismal than when he left
it, for he knew that he had wasted both his time and his money.
“I will go and see the Holy Man in the cave near the well,” he said to
himself, “and perhaps he can tell me why all the luck is for other
people, and only misfortunes happen to me.” And he set out at once for
the cave.
It was a long way off, and the road led over mountains and through
valleys; but at last he reached the cave where the Holy Man dwelt, and
knocked at the door.
“Who is there?” asked a voice from within.
“It is I, Holy Man, Father Grumbler, you know, who has as many children
as sparrows in the garden.”
“Well, and what is it that you want?”
“I want to know why other people have all the luck, and only
misfortunes happen to me!”
The Holy Man did not answer, but went into an inner cave, from which he
came out bearing something in his hand. “Do you see this basket?” said
he. “It is a magical basket, and if you are hungry you have only got to
say: ‘Little basket, little basket, do your duty,’ and you will eat the
best dinner you ever had in your life. But when you have had enough, be
sure you don’t forget to cry out: ‘That will do for to-day.’ Oh!—and
one thing more—you need not show it to everybody and declare that I
have give it to you. Do you understand?”
Father Grumbler was always accustomed to think of himself as so unlucky
that he did not know whether the Holy Man was not playing a trick upon
him; but he took the basket without being polite enough to say either
“Thank you,” or “Good-morning,” and went away. However, he only waited
till he was out of sight of the cave before he stooped down and
whispered: “Little basket, little basket, do your duty.”
Now the basket had a lid, so that he could not see what was inside, but
he heard quite clearly strange noises, as if a sort of scuffling was
going on. Then the lid burst open, and a quantity of delicious little
white rolls came tumbling out one after the other, followed by a stream
of small fishes all ready cooked. What a quantity there were to be
sure! The whole road was covered with them, and the banks on each side
were beginning to disappear. Father Grumbler felt quite frightened at
the torrent, but at last he remembered what the Holy Man had told him,
and cried at the top of his voice: “Enough! enough! That will do for
to-day!” And the lid of the basket closed with a snap.
Father Grumbler sighed with relief and happiness as he looked around
him, and sitting down on a heap of stones, he ate till he could eat no
more. Trout, salmon, turbot, soles, and a hundred other fishes whose
names he did not know, lay boiled, fried, and grilled within reach of
his hands. As the Holy Man had said, he had never eaten such a dinner;
still, when he had done, he shook his head, and grumbled; “Yes, there
is plenty to eat, of course, but it only makes me thirsty, and there is
not a drop to drink anywhere.”
Yet, somehow, he could never tell why, he looked up and saw the tavern
in front of him, which he thought was miles, and miles, and miles away.
“Bring the best wine you have got, and two glasses, good mother,” he
said as he entered, “and if you are fond of fish there is enough here
to feed the house. Only there is no need to chatter about it all over
the place. You understand? Eh?” And without waiting for an answer he
whispered to the basket: “Little basket, little basket, do your duty.”
The innkeeper and his wife thought that their customer had gone
suddenly mad, and watched him closely, ready to spring on him if he
became violent; but both instinctively jumped backwards, nearly into
the fire, as rolls and fishes of every kind came tumbling out of the
basket, covering the tables and chairs and the floor, and even
overflowing into the street.
“Be quick, be quick, and pick them up,” cried the man. “And if these
are not enough, there are plenty more to be had for the asking.”
The innkeeper and his wife did not need telling twice. Down they went
on their knees and gathered up everything they could lay hands on. But
busy though they seemed, they found time to whisper to each other:
“If we can only get hold of that basket it will make our fortune!”
So they began by inviting Father Grumbler to sit down to the table, and
brought out the best wine in the cellar, hoping it might loosen his
tongue. But Father Grumbler was wiser than they gave him credit for,
and though they tried in all manner of ways to find out who had given
him the basket, he put them off, and kept his secret to himself.
Unluckily, though he did not SPEAK, he did drink, and it was not long
before he fell fast asleep. Then the woman fetched from her kitchen a
basket, so like the magic one that no one, without looking very
closely, could tell the difference, and placed it in Father Grumbler’s
hand, while she hid the other carefully away.
It was dinner time when the man awoke, and, jumping up hastily, he set
out for home, where he found all the children gathered round a basin of
thin soup, and pushing their wooden bowls forward, hoping to have the
first spoonful. Their father burst into the midst of them, bearing his
basket, and crying:
“Don’t spoil your appetites, children, with that stuff. Do you see this
basket? Well, I have only got to say, ‘Little basket, little basket, do
your duty,’ and you will see what will happen. Now you shall say it
instead of me, for a treat.”
The children, wondering and delighted, repeated the words, but nothing
happened. Again and again they tried, but the basket was only a basket,
with a few scales of fish sticking to the bottom, for the innkeeper’s
wife had taken it to market the day before.
“What is the matter with the thing?” cried the father at last,
snatching the basket from them, and turning it all over, grumbling and
swearing while he did so, under the eyes of his astonished wife and
children, who did not know whether to cry or to laugh.
“It certainly smells of fish,” he said, and then he stopped, for a
sudden thought had come to him.
“Suppose it is not mine at all; supposing—Ah, the scoundrels!”
And without listening to his wife and children, who were frightened at
his strange conduct and begged him to stay at home, he ran across to
the tavern and burst open the door.
“Can I do anything for you, Father Grumbler?” asked the innkeeper’s
wife in her softest voice.
“I have taken the wrong basket—by mistake, of course,” said he. “Here
is yours, will you give me back my own?”
“Why, what are you talking about?” answered she. “You can see for
yourself that there is no basket here.”
And though Father Grumbler DID look, it was quite true that none was to
be seen.
“Come, take a glass to warm you this cold day,” said the woman, who was
anxious to keep him in a good temper, and as this was an invitation
Father Grumbler never refused, he tossed it off and left the house.
He took the road that led to the Holy Man’s cave, and made such haste
that it was not long before he reached it.
“Who is there?” said a voice in answer to his knock.
“It is me, it is me, Holy man. You know quite well. Father Grumbler,
who has as many children as sparrows in the garden.”
“But, my good man, it was only yesterday that I gave you a handsome
present.”
“Yes, Holy Man, and here it is. But something has happened, I don’t
know what, and it won’t work any more.”
“Well, put it down. I will go and see if I can find anything for you.”
In a few minutes the Holy Man returned with a cock under his arm.
“Listen to me,” he said, “whenever you want money, you only have to
say: ‘Show me what you can do, cock,’ and you will see some wonderful
things. But, remember, it is not necessary to let all the world into
the secret.”
“Oh no, Holy Man, I am not so foolish as that.”
“Nor to tell everybody that I gave it to you,” went on the Holy Man. “I
have not got these treasures by the dozen.”
And without waiting for an answer he shut the door.
As before, the distance seemed to have wonderfully shortened, and in a
moment the tavern rose up in front of Father Grumbler. Without stopping
to think, he went straight in, and found the innkeeper’s wife in the
kitchen making a cake.
“Where have you come from, with that fine red cock in your basket,”
asked she, for the bird was so big that the lid would not shut down
properly.
“Oh, I come from a place where they don’t keep these things by the
dozen,” he replied, sitting down in front of the table.
The woman said no more, but set before him a bottle of his favourite
wine, and soon he began to wish to display his prize.
“Show me what you can do, cock,” cried he. And the cock stood up and
flapped his wings three times, crowing “coquerico” with a voice like a
trumpet, and at each crow there fell from his beak golden drops, and
diamonds as large as peas.
This time Father Grumbler did not invite the innkeeper’s wife to pick
up his treasures, but put his own hat under the cock’s beak, so as to
catch everything he let fall; and he did not see the husband and wife
exchanging glances with each other which said, “That would be a
splendid cock to put with our basket.”
“Have another glass of wine?” suggested the innkeeper, when they had
finished admiring the beauty of the cock, for they pretended not to
have seen the gold or the diamonds. And Father Grumbler, nothing loth,
drank one glass after another, till his head fell forward on the table,
and once more he was sound asleep. Then the woman gently coaxed the
cock from the basket and carried it off to her own poultry yard, from
which she brought one exactly like it, and popped it in its place.
Night was falling when the man awoke, and throwing proudly some grains
of gold on the table to pay for the wine he had drunk, he tucked the
cock comfortably into his basket and set out for home.
His wife and all the children were waiting for him at the door, and as
soon as she caught sight of him she broke out:
“You are a nice man to go wasting your time and your money drinking in
that tavern, and leaving us to starve! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“You don’t know what you are talking of,” he answered. “Money? Why, I
have gold and diamonds now, as much as I want. Do you see that cock?
Well, you have only to say to him, ‘Show me what you can do, cock,’ and
something splendid will happen.”
Neither wife nor children were inclined to put much faith in him after
their last experience; however, they thought it was worth trying, and
did as he told them. The cock flew round the room like a mad thing, and
crowed till their heads nearly split with the noise; but no gold or
diamonds dropped on the brick floor—not the tiniest grain of either.
Father Grumbler stared in silence for an instant, and then he began to
swear so loudly that even his family, accustomed as they were to his
language, wondered at him.
At last he grew a little quieter, but remained as puzzled as ever.
“Can I have forgotten the words? But I KNOW that was what he said! And
I saw the diamonds with my own eyes!” Then suddenly he seized the cock,
shut it into the basket, and rushed out of the house.
His heavy wooden shoes clattered as he ran along the road, and he made
such haste that the stars were only just beginning to come out when he
reached the cave of the Holy Man.
“Who is that knocking?” asked a voice from within.
“It is me! It is me! Holy Man! you know! Father—”
“But, my good fellow, you really should give some one else a chance.
This is the third time you have been—and at such an hour, too!”
“Oh, yes, Holy Man, I know it is very late, but you will forgive me! It
is your cock—there is something the matter. It is like the basket.
Look!”
“THAT my cock? THAT my basket? Somebody has played you a trick, my good
man!”
“A trick?” repeated Father Grumbler, who began to understand what had
happened. “Then it must have been those two—”
“I warned you not to show them to anybody,” said the Holy Man. “You
deserve—but I will give you one more chance.” And, turning, he unhooked
something from the wall.
“When you wish to dust your own jacket or those of your friends,” he
said, “you have only got to say, ‘Flack, flick, switch, be quick,’ and
you will see what happens. That is all I have to tell you.” And,
smiling to himself, the Holy Man pushed Father Grumbler out of the
cave.
“Ah, I understand now,” muttered the good man, as he took the road
home; “but I think I have got you two rascals!” and he hurried on to
the tavern with his basket under his arm, and the cock and the switch
both inside.
“Good evening, friends!” he said, as he entered the inn. “I am very
hungry, and should be glad if you would roast this cock for me as soon
as possible. THIS cock and no other—mind what I say,” he went on. “Oh,
and another thing! You can light the fire with this basket. When you
have done that I will show you something I have in my bag,” and, as he
spoke, he tried to imitate the smile that the Holy Man had given HIM.
These directions made the innkeeper’s wife very uneasy. However, she
said nothing, and began to roast the cock, while her husband did his
best to make the man sleepy with wine, but all in vain.
After dinner, which he did not eat without grumbling, for the cock was
very tough, the man struck his hand on the table, and said: “Now listen
to me. Go and fetch my cock and my basket, at once. Do you hear?”
“Your cock, and your basket, Father Grumbler? But you have just—”
“MY cock and MY basket!” interrupted he. “And, if you are too deaf and
too stupid to understand what that means, I have got something which
may help to teach you.” And opening the bag, he cried: “Flack, flick,
switch, be quick.”
And flack! flick! like lightening a white switch sprang out of the bag,
and gave such hearty blows to the innkeeper and his wife, and to Father
Grumbler into the bargain, that they all jumped as high as feathers
when a mattress is shaken.
“Stop! stop! make it stop, and you shall have back your cock and
basket,” cried the man and his wife. And Father Grumbler, who had no
wish to go on, called out between his hops: “Stop then, can’t you? That
is enough for to-day!”
But the switch paid no attention, and dealt out its blows as before,
and MIGHT have been dealing them to this day, if the Holy Man had not
heard their cries and come to the rescue. “Into the bag, quick!” said
he, and the switch obeyed.
“Now go and fetch me the cock and the basket,” and the woman went
without a word, and placed them on the table.
“You have all got what you deserved,” continued the Holy Man, “and I
have no pity for any of you. I shall take my treasures home, and
perhaps some day I may find a man who knows how to make the best of the
chances that are given to him. But that will never be YOU,” he added,
turning to Father Grumbler.
[From Contes Populaires.]
Story DNA
Moral
True luck comes from within and from appreciating what one has, rather than constantly grumbling or seeking external remedies.
Plot Summary
Father Grumbler, a perpetually discontented man, seeks a Holy Man's help to change his 'bad luck.' He receives three magical gifts—a food-producing basket, a gold-laying cock, and a self-whipping switch—each with a warning to keep it secret. However, his carelessness and love for the tavern lead to the greedy innkeepers repeatedly tricking him and stealing the first two gifts. On his third visit, the Holy Man gives him the switch, which Grumbler uses to retrieve his stolen items, but the switch also beats him. The Holy Man intervenes, reclaims all his gifts, and scolds Grumbler for his ingratitude and inability to follow instructions, leaving him with nothing.
Themes
Emotional Arc
grumbling to brief joy to frustration to anger to justice to ultimate disappointment
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Andrew Lang's 'Fairy Books' were collections of folk and fairy tales from various cultures, often adapted for English-speaking audiences. This story's origin in 'Contes Populaires' suggests a French folk tradition.
Plot Beats (14)
- Father Grumbler, a man with many children, is constantly unhappy, grumbling about his life and perceived bad luck.
- He begins frequenting a tavern, wasting money and time, which only exacerbates his misery.
- He decides to visit a Holy Man to understand why he has such bad luck.
- The Holy Man gives him a magic basket that produces endless food, with a specific command to stop it and a warning to keep it secret.
- Grumbler uses the basket on his way home, then at an inn, attracting the greedy attention of the innkeepers.
- The innkeepers get Grumbler drunk and swap the magic basket for a mundane one.
- Grumbler returns home, tries to show off the basket to his family, but it fails, leading to his anger and realization of the trick.
- He returns to the Holy Man, who gives him a magic cock that produces gold and diamonds, again with warnings about secrecy.
- Grumbler again uses the cock at the inn, gets drunk, and the innkeepers steal it, replacing it with an ordinary one.
- Grumbler returns home, the cock fails to produce riches, and he realizes he's been tricked again.
- He returns to the Holy Man a third time, who, after scolding him, gives him a magic switch that beats anyone it's commanded to.
- Grumbler returns to the inn, demands his items back, and when refused, unleashes the switch on the innkeepers and himself.
- The Holy Man appears, stops the switch, reclaims all his magical items, and tells Grumbler he is not worthy of such gifts due to his ingratitude and inability to follow instructions.
- Grumbler is left with nothing, having learned no lesson about his own character.
Characters
Father Grumbler ★ protagonist
Tired, overworked
Attire: Simple peasant clothing, worn and patched
Grumbling, unlucky, initially greedy but ultimately learns a lesson
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly man in his late sixties with a deeply lined, weathered face, a long unkempt grey beard, and weary, rheumy eyes. He wears a threadbare, patched brown woolen tunic over ragged trousers, secured with a rough rope belt. His posture is slumped and weary, one hand resting on a gnarled walking staff, the other hand open in a gesture of resigned complaint. His expression is one of perpetual, tired grumbling. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Holy Man ◆ supporting
Wise, patient
Attire: Simple robes, perhaps with a staff
Wise, patient, gives second chances
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly man with a long, flowing white beard and kind, wrinkled eyes. He wears simple, earth-toned robes of undyed wool, belted with a rope. He stands tall but not rigid, one hand resting on a gnarled wooden staff, the other open in a gentle, welcoming gesture. His expression is serene and wise, with a faint, knowing smile. He is in a sun-dappled forest clearing. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Innkeeper ⚔ antagonist
Greedy, opportunistic
Attire: Typical innkeeper attire of the time, apron
Greedy, deceitful
Image Prompt & Upload
A middle-aged man with a gaunt face, thinning greasy black hair, and a cruel, calculating smile. He wears a stained leather apron over a dark, rumpled tunic, with a heavy iron ring of keys hanging from his belt. His posture is hunched and predatory, leaning forward over a wooden counter, one hand gripping a tankard, the other resting near a hidden dagger. The lighting is dim and shadowy, suggesting a gloomy tavern interior. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Innkeeper's Wife ⚔ antagonist
Greedy, opportunistic
Attire: Simple dress with apron, keys at her waist
Greedy, deceitful, cunning
Image Prompt & Upload
A stern middle-aged woman with sharp features, thin lips pressed into a disapproving line, and cold, calculating eyes. Her graying hair is pulled back severely under a dark, practical headscarf. She wears a high-necked, somber wool dress in deep burgundy, covered by a clean but stained white apron. A large ring of iron keys hangs from her belt. She stands with her arms crossed, posture rigid and unwelcoming, in the dim, cluttered interior of a rustic tavern kitchen, with copper pots and brewing herbs visible in the background. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Switch ◆ supporting
White, thin, flexible
Punishing, relentless
Image Prompt & Upload
A young adult with a slender build, one eye blue and the other green, their expression a mix of curiosity and caution. They wear a patchwork cloak made of mismatched fabrics over simple traveler's clothes. Their hair is a messy, shoulder-length mix of dark brown and streaks of ash blonde. They stand in a relaxed but alert posture, one hand resting on the hilt of a short sword at their belt, the other holding a small, intricately carved wooden box. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Father Grumbler's House
A house with many children, implying a small, crowded space. Likely humble, reflecting the father's hard work and poverty. A place of constant need and potential despair.
Mood: Desolate, strained, unhappy
The initial unhappiness and the failed attempt to use the fake cock, highlighting the family's poverty and the father's frustration.
Image Prompt & Upload
Evening overcast sky, dim fading light. A small, dilapidated cottage with crumbling stone walls and a sagging, moss-covered thatched roof. One faint, warm yellow light glows from a single small, grimy window. The surrounding yard is overgrown with weeds and muddy patches. A broken wooden fence leans precariously. A pile of chopped firewood sits near the door, weathered and grey. The atmosphere is heavy, quiet, and weary, reflecting persistent poverty and hard labor. Muted color palette of dull browns, greys, and faded greens. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Tavern Across the Road
Bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to Father Grumbler's home. A place of temporary escape and false promises.
Mood: Deceptive, tempting, convivial
Father Grumbler is tricked out of his magical basket and cock, leading to his humiliation and anger.
Image Prompt & Upload
A cozy timber-framed tavern glows warmly against a twilight sky, its golden-lit windows spilling onto a cobblestone path. Thatched roof and a crooked chimney, with cheerful flower boxes bursting with impossible, glowing bluebells. A worn wooden sign hangs above the door, depicting a smiling, winking moon. The surrounding forest is lush and deep, with a single, perfect moonbeam illuminating the path to the door, while the rest of the woods remain in soft, velvety shadow. The air feels still, magical, and slightly too inviting. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Cave Near the Well
A remote cave dwelling, suggesting isolation and wisdom. The well implies a source of life and perhaps deeper knowledge.
Mood: Mysterious, serene, wise
Father Grumbler receives the magical items and ultimately returns for help, highlighting the Holy Man's power and judgment.
Image Prompt & Upload
Twilight descends upon a remote, moss-covered cave entrance nestled within a misty, ancient forest. A weathered stone well sits before the opening, its dark water reflecting the first emerging stars and a soft, ethereal amber glow from deep within the cavern. The cave's arch is framed by gnarled roots and glistening ferns, with stalactites visible inside like old teeth. The air is cool and still, carrying the scent of damp earth and stone. The forest floor is a carpet of bluebells and fallen leaves, bathed in the deep blue hour before nightfall. A single, luminous moth flutters near the well's edge. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Road to the Cave
A long and arduous path leading over mountains and through valleys, symbolizing the difficulty of finding solutions to life's problems.
Mood: Desolate, challenging, reflective
Father Grumbler first tests the basket, creating a comical scene of overflowing food.
Image Prompt & Upload
A winding, treacherous path of weathered stone and gravel cuts through a vast, mist-shrouded mountain range at dusk. The sky is a gradient of deep indigo and bruised purple, with the last embers of sunset casting a cold, ethereal glow on the jagged peaks. The path descends into a shadowed valley before climbing steeply towards a distant, ominous cave mouth, which emits a faint, mysterious blue light. Gnarled, ancient trees cling to the slopes, their branches bare. Wildflowers dot the rocky edges, their colors muted in the fading light. The atmosphere is one of profound solitude and daunting scale. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
