About the Author

Duncan Williamson was born in 1928 on the shores of Loch Fyne. He was the seventh of sixteen children born to a family of Travellers, who set up camp in the same place every winter and wandered the Highlands during the summer, hawking their tin and natural willow wares. Duncan left home at the age of fifteen and spent the next forty years travelling, continuing the traditional trades of his people. In 1980 he moved into a farm cottage in Fife with his second wife, Linda, who transcribed some of his vast repertoire of songs, stories and family history. Duncan died in 2007, leaving behind a worldwide legacy. His reputation was extraordinary and the impact of his storytelling continues in literary editions of his work, published by Canongate, Cambridge University Press, Penguin, Mondadori, and more recently Birlinn, Luath Press and Floris Books. Linda Williamson was born in Madison, Wisconsin in 1949. She has a PhD from Edinburgh University, and is an American folklorist, storyteller and editor. She has three children and five grandchildren -- on both sides of the Atlantic.

Reviews

'A fine collection to share, whether read aloud or told.'
-- Kirkus Reviews

'Mesmerising Scottish storyteller... Duncan Williamson was one of the most celebrated storytellers in Scotland ... one of the world's best-known storytellers'
-- The Times

'The story-teller and singer Duncan Williamson was one of the greatest voices of Scots traveller culture'
-- The Independent

'Scotland's greatest contemporary storyteller'
-- The Guardian

'Scotland's greatest traditional storyteller'
-- The Scotsman

'A wonderful collection of Scottish folk and fairy tales for children. The stories are beautifully told and perfectly written to be read aloud to the small child or children in your life.'
-- www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk

'This engaging collection of Scottish folktales opens with a splendid bit of scene-setting in the introduction.'
-- Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

'Thae stories hae been fashiont frae the claith buttons o fowk memory. They are as auld as the hills an, lik Jack, wha fun the Keeng's keys tae the "Garden of Youth", they are eildless.'
-- Lallans