The Lambton Worm

Foreword
This is an Anglish of the folk tale, The Lambton Worm, first written by William Henderson for Notes on the Folk-lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (pp. 287-89.) and later gathered together in More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs, and English Fairy and Other Folk Tales by Edwin Sidney Hartland. by Wordwork. See the wender's leaf for more on the wordings.

English Spelling
A wilde young was the  of Lambton, the   and  by the side of the swift-flowing Wear. Not a Mass would he hear in Brugeford Chapel of a Sunday, but a-fishing he would go. And if he did not in anything, his curses could be heard by the folk as  went by to Brugeford.

Well, one Sunday morning he was fishing as, and not a had risen to him, his  was bare of  or. And the worse his luck, the worse grew his, the  were  at his words as  went to listen to the Mass-prést.

At last young Lambton felt a mighty tug at his string. 'At last,' quoth he, 'a bite worth having!' and he pulled and he pulled, what should  above the water but a head  an elf's, with nine holes on each side of its mouth. But still he pulled he had  the thing to land, when it  out to be a Worm of  shape. If he had cursed} before, his curses were enough to the hair on your head.

'What ails thee, my son?' said a by his side, 'and what hast thou, that thou shouldst  the Lord's Day with such foul ?'

Looking, young Lambton saw old man standing by him.

'Why, truly,' he said, 'I think I have the devil himself. Look you and see if you know him.'

But the shook his head, and said, 'It bodes no good to thee or thine to bring such a  to shore. Yet him not back into the Wear; thou has  him, and thou must keep him,' and with that away he, and was seen no more.

The young of Lambton  up the gruesome thing, and  it off his hook,  it into a well, and ever since that day that well has gone by the name of the Worm Well.

For some time nothing more was seen or heard of the Worm, one day it had outgrown the  of the well, and came forth full-grown. So it came forth from the well and itself to the Wear. And all day long it would lie  a  in the middle of the stream, while at night it came forth from the  and harried the. It sucked the milk,  the lambs, worried the, and frightened all the women and  in the , and then it would  for the rest of the night to the hill, still  the Worm Hill, on the north side of the Wear, about a mile and a half from Lambton Hall.

This  brought young Lambton, of Lambton Hall, to his. He upon himself the  of the, and  for the Holy Land, in the hope that the  he had brought upon his  would. But the grisly Worm no heed,  that it  the  and came right up to Lambton Hall itself where the old lord lived on all alone, his only son having gone to the Holy Land. What to do? The Worm was coming and  to the Hall; women were, men were gathering weapons, dogs were barking and horses neighing with. At last the steward out to the, 'Bring all your milk hither', and when  did so, and had brought all the milk that the nine  of the byre had yielded, he  it all into the long stone trough  the Hall.

The Worm drew nearer and nearer, at last it came up to the trough. But when it sniffed the milk, it aside to the trough and swallowed all the milk up, and then slowly   and  the, and  its  three times  the Worm Hill for the night.

Henceforth the Worm would the  every day, and woe betide the Hall if the trough  the milk of less than nine kye. The Worm would hiss, and would, and lash its tail the trees of the , and in its  it would  the  oaks and the. So it went on for seven years. Many to  the Worm, but all had, and many a knight had lost his life in fighting with the , which slowly  the life out of all that came near it.

At last the Childe of Lambton came home to his father's Hall, after seven long years spent in and  on holy. Sad and he found his folk: the lands untilled, the , half the trees of the  , for none would  to  the nine kye that the  needed for his food each day.

The Childe sought his father, and his forgiveness for the curse he had brought on the Hall.

'Thy sin is ,' said his father; 'but go thou to the Wise Woman of Brugeford, and find if aught can free us from this .'

To the Wise Woman went the Childe, and asked her.

"Tis thy, O Childe, for which we ,' she said; 'be it thine to us.'

'I would give my life,' said the Childe.

' thou wilt do so,' said she. 'But hear me, and mark me well. Thou, and thou alone, canst kill the Worm. But, to this end, go thou to the and have thy  studded with spear-heads. Then go to the Worm's in the Wear, and  thyself there. Then, when the Worm comes to the at dawn of day,  thy  on him, and God gi'e thee a good .'

'This I will do,' said Childe Lambton.

'But one thing more,' said the Wise Woman, going back to her. 'If thou slay the Worm, swear that thou wilt put to death the first thing that meets thee as thou  the threshold of Lambton Hall. Do this, and all will be well with thee and thine. Fulfil not thy, and none of the Lambtons, for three times three, shall  in his bed. Swear, and not.'

The Childe swore as the Wise Woman bid, and went his way to the. There he had his studded with spear-heads all over. Then he his  in Brugeford Chapel, and at dawn of day  his  on the Worm's  in the.

As dawn broke, the Worm its snaky twine from  the hill, and came to its  in the. When it the Childe  for it, it lashed the waters in its  and wound its   the Childe, and then  to  him to death. But the more it, the deeper dug the spear-heads into its sides. Still it and,  all the water  was  with its blood. Then the Worm unwound itself, and left the Childe free to his sword. He it, brought it down, and cut the Worm in two. One half fell into the, and was swiftly away. Once more the head and the of the body  the Childe, but with less, and the spear-heads did  work. At last the Worm itself, snorted its last foam of blood and fire, and   into the, and was never seen more.

The Childe of Lambton swam ashore, and raising his to his lips,  its  thrice. This was the to the Hall, where the  and the old lord had shut  in to  for the Childe's. When the third of the  was heard,  were to  Boris, the Childe's  hound. But such was  at learning of the Childe's  and the Worm's, that  forgot , and when the Childe reached the threshold of the Hall, his old father  out to meet him, and would have clasped him to his breast.

'The ! the !' out the Childe of Lambton, and blew still another blast upon his horn. This time the, and  Boris, who came  to his young. The Childe his shining sword, and  the head of his  hound.

But the was broken, and for nine  of men none of the Lambtons  in his bed. The last of the Lambtons in his  as he was  Brugeford Bridge, one hundred and thirty years ago.

Anglish Spelling
A wilde yung was the  of Lambton, the   and  by the side of the swift-flowing Wear. Not a Mass woold he hear in Bricgford Ceapel of a Sunday, but a-fiscing he woold go. And if he did not in anything, his curses coold be heard by the folk as  went by to Bricgford.

Well, one Sunday morning he was fiscing as, and not a had risen to him, his  was bare of  or. And the worse his luck, the worse grew his, the  were  at his words as  went to listen to the Mass-preest.

At last yung Lambton felt a mihty tug at his string. 'At last,' cwoth he, 'a bite worth hafing!' and he pulled and he pulled, hwat scoold  abuf the water but a head  an elf's, with nine holes on eac side of its muthe. But still he pulled he had  the thing to land, hwen it  ute to be a Worm of  scape. If he had cursed before, his curses were enuh to the hair on yewer head.

'Hwat ails thee, my sun?' said a by his side, 'and hwat hast thu, that thu shooldst  the Lord's Day with suc fule ?'

Looking, yung Lambton saw old man standing by him.

'Hwy, trewly,' he said, 'I think I hafe the defil himself. Look yew and see if yew cnow him.'

But the scook his head, and said, 'It bodes no good to thee or thine to bring suc a  to score. Yet him not back into the Wear; thu has  him, and thu must keep him,' and with that away he, and was seen no more.

The yung of Lambton  up the grewsome thing, and  it off his hook,  it into a well, and ever sinss that day that well has gone by the name of the Worm Well.

For sum time nothing more was seen or heard of the Worm, one day it had utegrown the  of the well, and came forth full-grown. So it came forth from the well and itself to the Wear. And all day long it woold lie  a  in the middel of the stream, hwile at niht it came forth from the  and harried the. It sucked the milk,  the lambs, worried the, and frihtened all the women and  in the , and then it woold  for the rest of the niht to the hill, still  the Worm Hill, on the north side of the Wear, abute a mile and a half from Lambton Hall.

This  broht yung Lambton, of Lambton Hall, to his. He upon himself the  of the, and  for the Holy Land, in the hope that the  he had broht upon his  woold. But the grisly Worm no heed,  that it  the  and came riht up to Lambton Hall itself hwere the old lord lifed on all alone, his only son hafing gone to the Holy Land. Hwat to do? The Worm was coming and  to the Hall; women were, men were gathering weapons, dogs were barking and horses neihing with. At last the steward ute to the, 'Bring all yewer milk hither', and hwen  did so, and had broht all the milk that the nine  of the byre had yeelded, he  it all into the long stone troff  the Hall.

The Worm drew nearer and nearer, at last it came up to the troff. But hwen it sniffed the milk, it aside to the troff and swallowed all the milk up, and then slowly   and  the, and  its  three times  the Worm Hill for the niht.

Henssforth the Worm woold the  efery day, and woe betide the Hall if the troff  the milk of less than nine kye. The Worm woold hiss, and woold, and lasc its tail the trees of the , and in its  it woold  the  oaks and the. So it went on for sefen years. Many to  the Worm, but all had, and many a cniht had lost his life in fihting with the , hwich slowly  the life ute of all that came near it.

At last the Cilde of Lambton came home to his father's Hall, after sefen long years spent in and  on holy. Sad and he funde his folk: the lands untilled, the , half the trees of the  , for none woold  to  the nine kye that the  needed for his food eac day.

The Cilde soht his father, and his foryifeness for the curss he had broht on the Hall.

'Thy sin is ,' said his father; 'but go thu to the Wise Woman of Bricgford, and finde if aht can free us from this .'

To the Wise Woman went the Cilde, and asked her.

"Tis thy, O Cilde, for hwic we ,' sce said; 'be it thine to us.'

'I woold yife my life,' said the Cilde.

' thu wilt do so,' said sce. 'But hear me, and mark me well. Thu, and thu alone, canst kill the Worm. But, to this end, go tho to the and hafe thy  studded with spear-heads. Then go to the Worm's in the Wear, and  thyself there. Then, hwen the Worm comes to the at dawn of day,  thy  on him, and God yi'e thee a good .'

'This I will do,' said Cilde Lambton.

'But one thing more,' said the Wise Woman, going back to her. 'If thu slay the Worm, swear that thu wilt put to death the first thing that meets thee as thu  the threshold of Lambton Hall. Do this, and all will be well with thee and thine. Fulfil not thy, and none of the Lambtons, for three times three, scall  in his bed. Swear, and not.'

The Cilde swore as the Wise Woman bid, and went his way to the. There he had his studded with spear-heads all over. Then he his  in Bricgford Ceapel, and at dawn of day  his  on the Worm's  in the.

As dawn broke, the Worm its snaky twine from  the hill, and came to its  in the. Hwen it the Cilde  for it, it lasced the waters in its  and wunde its   the Cilde, and then  to  him to death. But the more it, the deeper dug the spear-heads into its sides. Still it and,  all the water  was  with its blood. Then the Worm unwunde itself, and left the Cilde free to his sword. He it, broht it down, and cut the Worm in two. One half fell into the, and was swiftly away. Ones more the head and the of the body  the Cilde, but with less, and the spear-heads did  work. At last the Worm itself, snorted its last foam of blood and fire, and   into the, and was nefer seen more.

The Cilde of Lambton swam ascore, and his  to his lips,  its  thrise. This was the to the Hall, hwere the  and the old lord had scut  in to  for the Cilde's. Hwen the third of the  was heard,  were to  Boris, the Cilde's  hunde. But suc was  at learning of the Cilde's  and the Worm's, that  forgot , and hwen the Cilde reaced the threshold of the Hall, his old father  ute to meet him, and woold have clasped him to his breast.

'The ! the !' ute the Cilde of Lambton, and blew still another blast upon his horn. This time the, and  Boris, hwo came  to his yung. The Cilde his scining sword, and  the head of his  hunde.

But the was broken, and for nine  of men none of the Lambtons  in his bed. The last of the Lambtons in his  as he was  Bricgford Bridge, one hundred and thirty years ago.