Half-a-chick/El medio pollito

FOLKTALE

J. Alden Mason and Aurelio M. Espinosa found three versions of the El Medio Pollito story that were being told in Puerto Rico in the beginning of this century. These versions were European and probably were brought to the island from Castile. R. S. Boggs in his article �The Halfchick Tale in Spain and France� summarizes the story as it was basically being told in Puerto Rico, but also found a literary version that was being used in schools in the United States. The story is retold in The Green Fairy Book by Andrew Lang from Fernan Caballero. The version that I have translated seems to be closer to this version than to the original Castilian story. Apparently this version was introduced in Puerto Rico after the island became a possession of the United States in 1898. Marigloria Palma in her book Muestras del Folklore Puertorriqueno (in Spanish) tells the story as she heard it as a child. I have translated her version of the story and illustrated the story as I see it.

Summary

Half-a-chick decides to travel to the capital to find a doctor to repair or add his missing half. He has one leg, one eye, and one wing but believes he is better than everyone in the chicken coop and cannot stand being there anymore. Before leaving, his mother gives him advice which he does not follow. On his way to the capital he refuses to help river, wind, and fire. When he finally arrives to the big city, he confuses the king and queen with the cooks of the palace. He is overcooked and thrown out of the kitchen window. The wind picks him and takes him high in the air and puts him on top of the cathedral where he becomes a weathercock at the mercy of the rain, the wind, and the hot sun.
The story focuses on the punishment of arrogance and conceit. Half-a-chick pays dearly for his attitude and treatment of those in need. The full translation of this tale is found in the following pages. El medio pollito �Half-a-chick� Once upon a time and two more makes three, a beautiful hen hatched many chicks but among them there was one that was different from the others, with only one eye, one leg, and one wing. Mother Hen loved him just a little more because she felt sorry for him. So it happened that with all this extra attention Half-a-chick became very arrogant and conceited; he would look down upon his brothers and sisters with dislike. If the others made fun of him, he thought it was because they were jealous of him. If the pretty chicks looked at him with disgust or anger, he thought it was because lie did not pay attention to any of them. (figure available in print form) One day Half-a-chick told his mother that the chicken coop where he lived was too small and not good enough for him and that he was going to go to the big city where he could be with really important people. Mother Hen started to tremble when she heard this because she knew that everyone would make fun of him and that he would be very unhappy there.
�My son,� she said, �where did you get such a silly idea?� Your father has never left this chicken coop and we have been very happy here. Where are you going to find more love than here with us?� Half-a-chick answered, �I sent to go where the king and queen live, I want to meet them! Everyone here is very stupid and inferior to me.� Mother Hen could not stand to hear him any longer and said,� Son, haven�t you seen your reflection in the pond? You have only one wing, one leg, and one eye! That is your disgrace because your father was very handsome.� �Don�t talk to me about my father�s good looks!� grumbled Half-a-chick, �It�s your fault that I look like this! It was your egg . . .� Mother Hen sadly lowered her head until her until her beak touched the ground. She felt helpless; she couldn�t give Half-a-chick his missing half. She whispered, �Forgive me, my son, even though it is not my fault. Yours was the last egg I laid, maybe that�s the reason . . .� Half-a-chick interrupted her and said coldly, �In the big city I will find a doctor who will operate on me and add the parts that I�m missing. I�m leaving as soon as I can!� Since it was useless to change Half-a-chick�s mind, Mother Hen decided to give him some advice. �Listen to me, my dear son, never walk in front of a church: Saint Peter and the saint there do not like roosters. Stay away from cooks: those are your worst enemies, they are experts at wringing chicken�s necks.� She then gave him her blessing and prayed to Saint Raphael to protect him. Finally she told him to get his father�s blessing even if they did not get along very well. Half-a-chick went to see his father, kissed his foot, and asked for his blessing. His father, who also loved him out of pity, was very kind in his farewell. Mother Hen hid and cried. She did not want her son to see her crying. Half-a-chick flapped his only wing, crowed three times, and hopped out of the chicken coop to conquer the world. After following the road for a while he came upon a river that was almost dry. Down the center he could see a thin trickle of water. The trickle of water said faintly to Half-a-chick, �Friend, I feel so weak that I cannot push those branches out of my way, and I�m too tired to go around them. Can you move them out of the way for me? You can use your beak. I beg you! Help Me!� (figure available in print form) Looking down on the trickle, Half-a-chick responded showing no real interest, �I could get those branches out of your way, but I don�t feel like it. You are a miserable little stream.� Once he said this, he went on his way.
The trickle screamed, �You will need me someday, you fool!� Further down the road, he found a dying breeze lying on the ground. �Oh good Half-a-chick, � said the weak breeze, �I am lying here and cannot get up. I, that am really a powerful, strong wind. I would like to go and push some waves and get tangled in the high branches of the trees. Can you lift me up with your beak? If you gave me a little shove with your wing, I could get going. The heat is killing me down here! �Look, you dumb wind, you are getting what you deserve. You�re staying right where you are! You have bothered me enough already. You have spread my feathers apart and since I only have one leg, you have pushed me against the wall. I have gotten a lot of bumps and bruises because of you, mean bad wind.� Half-a-chick yelled furiously and turned to go on his way. The wind that could not get up off the ground screamed, �Every chicken gets cooked! You are a fool!� (figure available in print form) A little while later, Half-a-chick came across a field on fire. Smoke rose high in the sky and fire was everywhere. He came closer to the flames and heard a tiny voice that said, �Half-a- chick, friend, I am a little spark that does not want to go out. I want to go up to the top of the mountain. If I go out, I will never be able to look at the sky from up high. Put some dry grass on me so that I can be a flame again. Have pity on me, Half-a-chick!�
(figure available in print form) �I am not a farmhand to gather hay for you. Snuff out!� replied Half-a-chick.
The spark gathered together its last energy and yelled, �I�ll remember you! Someday you might need me, you fool!� Half-a-chick got so angry at the spark that he stomped on it with his only leg until it became ashes. When Half-a-chick finally arrived at the big city, the first thing he did was to disobey his mother�s advice. He went straight to the cathedral door and started to crow loudly so that Saint Peter would get angry. He then set out for the palace. In front of the palace, where the king and queen lived, the guards told him to stop. For the first time in his life, he was afraid. The guards had guns! Instead of stopping, he turned around and sneaked in through a side door. Once inside the palace, Half-a-chick kept hopping and walked into a huge kitchen where the men were wearing tall white hats. He thought that they were the king and queen. He walked straight up to them. One of the cooks grabbed him and wrung his neck. The cook yelled at his helper, �Get me some hot water to feather this sneak!� �Oh Water, dear friend, don�t scald me too much, have pity on me! begged Half-a-chick. �Did you have pity on me when I asked you to push the branches that were in my way? Do you remember me?� Water asked. After the cook had feathered Half-a-chick, he put him in the oven. Half-a-chick screamed at the fire, �Fire, dear friend, you are so powerful and destructive, have pity on me. Don�t burn me, please!� �You fool! Now you come with that. Don�t you remember me? I was that little spark that begged you for help and to not let me die,� said the fire and roasted Half-a-chick until it burned him to a crisp. Now when the cook saw the burned chick, he cursed and threw it out the window. Then the Wind swept it up. �Dear Wind, I want to lie down on the earth, drop me anywhere, under a tree, don�t take me up high, don�t drop me . . . I have already suffered so much,� Half-a-chick sobbed. �What are you saying?� roared the furious Wind, while rolling Half a-chick around and around. You have a terrible memory . . . Don�t you remember when I pleaded with you to give me just a little shove, to lift me off the ground? Did you help me? No! You insulted me!� Then the Wind started to go higher and higher in the sky, over the houses, over the buildings, until it got up to the top of the cathedral. Saint Peter grabbed Half-a-chick and put him on top of the steeple and changed him into a weathercock. And now, for the rest of his days, Half-a-chick will pay for his conceit and meanness at the mercy of the wind, the sun, and the rain; going around, and around, and around . . .