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What’s with this “Wren” thing?
The oldest extant version of the fable
we
are presenting here appeared in 1913 in the first volume of a two-volume anthology
of Low
Saxon folktales (Plattdeutsche
Volksmärchen “Low German Folktales”)
collected by Wilhelm Wisser (1843–1935). Read
more ...
“ Ocker” (Casual, “Broad” Australian
English)
Listen to
this translation narrated with native pronunciation:
The wren used to have his nest in a shed.
Once the oldies flew the coop to find some tucker and left the youngunns on their
pat malone.
After a while, old man Wren came back home.
“Crikey”, he says. “Has someone had a go at you, tin lids? You look like stunned mullet.”
“Oh Dad”, they said, “some big drongo bunyip just came along. He chucked a spaz and gave us the evil eye. That scared the clappers out of us.”
“Righto then”, says old man Wren, “where’d the bastard go?”
“He knicked off just down the track there,” they said.
“Wait here,” old man Wren says, “She’ll be right kids, I’ll chase him up and give him heaps.” That said, he shot off after him.
When he flew around the corner he came across a feral cat.
But the wren isn’t scared. He flaps onto the cat’s back and rips into him, “What the flock are you doing coming round my place and scaring the shite out of my littleuns?”
The feral cat ignores the wren’s ear bashing and keeps strutting his stuff.
This cheeses the little loud-mouth off even more. “You have no business being
there, I tell ya! And if ya come back again it’ll be on for young and old. I
don’t really want to do it he says as he lifts his leg, but I’ll bust yer back
and give you a walloping in two seconds!”
With that said he flew back home.
“There you go, kids” he says, “By jingo, I taught that bastard a bloody good lesson. He won’t trouble us again.”