Billy Biter

a slightly 'unusual' folk tale

As a storyteller, when I read folk and fairy tales, I see things in them that a casual reader might not. I am not saying that I am special, there will be people out there who think the same way, but we don’t often think of folk and fairy tales having characters in them who might be challenged with autism, or the stories contain spousal abuse, when the man in the relationship is being abused. I have found that tales that were collected and titled things like “Lazy John” or “Simple Jack” the lead characters are neither lazy, nor simple. They are often literal, and driven, but not in a way that most folks would behave. There are stories with spousal abuse in them, don’t get me wrong, there are too many, and some very nasty stories out there. When I found this story, I was a little taken aback, as my first encounter with this topic (abuse of a male partner), but also because a dragon is featured in the tale. I have yet to find this tale topic to have mythical creatures, nor any creatures that might talk, in them. I am still trying to wrap my head about this tale.

As in life there are comedic moments in amongst the darkness. In fact, despite the hard topic, it is told with some levity. And fortunately, with this story, there is a happy ending, for some of the characters. The original ending has the local town’s folk attack the dragon who then drowns. I didn’t like the way that played out, so changed it to a more positive (for the dragon) ending! I do like mythical dragons. Like step-mothers, they get a bad rap in many of these tales.

So with no further ado…

Billy Biter

A folktale retold by Simon Brooks

Billy Biter lived on top of a hill, not far from the town. It was where he had grown up. People used to visit Billy’s mother. The door was always open, Tom Cat would be curled by the fire, purring and cleaning himself, the kettle was always ready to boil to make some tea, and the songs Billy’s mother sang, and the tales she told made anyone welcome. Young Billy was a traveling tailor, fixing and mending, making new clothes, but it was hard in those days to make much money and once his mother died, there was even less to be had.

On the hill opposite, in a neat, tidy cottage, Mrs. Applegate, a young widow, kept an eye on the lad, for everyone liked him. In between those two hills there lived a dragon and people said Mrs. Applegate would get things from the dragon. She was what folks called a gifted lady - she could help cure people of certain sicknesses, and help folks with love, and things like that. No one in town paid much attention to the dragon in the gully, as it didn’t bother folk too much. The farmers kept their livestock far enough away, for they weren’t fattening up their cattle just to feed the beast. So there was Mrs. Applegate on one hill, and Billy on the other.

Billy wanted company, and he met this young lass, Hepzibah was her name, and he fell in love. She was tall, slender, fair, and intelligent, but her tongue was very sharp. They got married. Things got worse, and the words got sharper, and then when he was gone, she cut up his clothes, just to keep him home to fix them. She’d scream and shout, and sometimes when it got really bad, Billy and Tom Cat would climb up and sit on the roof and stay warm by the chimney, and Mrs. Applegate would see him up there. Love doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes Hepzibah would take all his money and leave to go shopping for fine clothes and alcohol, then he’d have to go and find her and bring her back home. She shouted as soon as they returned, and then Hepzibah would sit in his old mother’s rocking chair looking smug, before passing out. Tom Cat would tip toe off and hide until she fell asleep, to come back and sit by the fire, watching Billy get wood for the stove, water from the well and cook meals for the next day.

One day when Billy was returning home from working, Mrs. Applegate met him on her hill and asked for his pay! She talked him into handing it over, for her to look after, and she gave back sixpence for Hepzibah in case she asked for any. (That way, all his pay wasn’t wasted on things they didn’t really need.) Mrs. Applegate invited him in, and gave him a meal along with some to take home to his wife.

The next afternoon the lady at the farm Billy was working at noticed Billy was quiet. It wasn’t the first time either. There had been a time when he’d sing and share stories like his mother, but now he sat in silence and worked. It saddened her. The farmer lady, she made him some tea and toast, and gave him half a loaf of bread to take home. The man of the farm gave Billy a bundle of wood for his fire, and set it upon his back. Stepping into the evening on his journey home, he found it cold, damp and misty. On his way, as he was passing young Mrs. Applegate’s cottage, he smelled something good. Some cooking smells came from inside. As he walked by her place, out came Mrs. Applegate, and she called Billy in.

“Well let’s have that bread, then,” she said. Billy wondered how she knew about the half loaf he had been given, and understanding food was as hard to come by for Mrs. Applegate as it was for him, he shared it with her. Billy was about to share the wood too, but Mrs. Applegate, so no, and sprinkled some flour on it, behind him so he didn’t see. She then told Billy to sit himself down. Out of the oven, she pulled a great ginger cake in a square tin. Young Mrs. Applegate cut Billy a big piece, and told him: “Eat this on your way home. It’s cold and wet out, it will warm you. Here’s a piece for Tom Cat, and this,” she cut a piece from the corner of the tin. “This piece is for Hepzibah, and her alone.”

Well, he thanked Mrs. Applegate, and placed the two extra pieces of cake in separate pockets, holding on to his own larger piece, which he ate on his way home. He tried to keep his warm bit of cake dry and out of the rain, and taking a bite of the thick, sticky ginger cake, it put a girt big smile on his face, and it went down a treat.

The night became foggier with the rain and it was getting harder to see. Billy took a wrong step and down the gully he went, bouncing with the sticks on his back. Now the dragon, he had been smelling the ginger cake coming from Mrs. Applegate’s cottage for some time, and when Billy came bouncing and rolling down the hill, smelling even stronger of the cake, the dragon took notice. When Billy landed on the neck of the beast, he looked wide-eyed at it.

“You’re poking me with your sticks,” the dragon said.

“Sorry!” Billy could barely get the words out, he was so frightened, and his legs shook so much he couldn’t stand.

“Now let’s see what I will be eating tonight.” The beastie licked its lips. But Billy hadn’t eaten all his cake; it was still held tightly in his hand. When the dragon opened his mouth and whipped his tongue out, Billy dropped the piece of the cake into the dragon’s maw. The mouth closed as the tongue slid back in and danced a little with the cake. The dragon chewed slowly, and Billy noticed its eyes roll around. The cake stuck to the dragon’s teeth as much as it had stuck to Billy’s.

“This is good. Really good. Now go and get me some more.” And with that dragon puffed so hard through its nose, Billy flew up out of the gully to land on his own roof finding Tom Cat already there.

Staggering as he tried to keep his balance on the top of his cottage, some of the wood tied to his back fell down the cold chimney, along with the piece of cake for his wife.

Hepzibah was asleep on the floor and the crash of wood falling through the chimney woke her up. She smelled the ginger, and found her piece of cake, and gobbled it up.

“I know you’re up there, Billy Biter, come down here at once. I have a mind to make my own ginger cake, and it will be better than that piece you sent down the chimney. Where did you get it from?”

So down off the roof came Billy, muttering about Mrs. Applegate giving him some cake, and some to share, which he hadn’t thrown down the chimney, but had fallen from his pocket. Inside he untied the rope and set the wood in the fire, and finding some of it was already lit from his encounter with the dragon, he put more in the stove. Hepzibah made Billy run about getting this and that to make the dough, then told him to put it in the trough. There she jumped up and down on the dough in her shoes. After she’d done this for a while, she scraped up the dough and threw it in a dollop on a baking sheet and into the oven it went. Hepzibah hadn’t even let it rise.

“Shouldn’t it be in a square tin?” Billy mentioned quietly, having seen his mother make ginger cake a hundred times at least. He should have said nothing because she took up the broom and chased Billy back up on the roof. Returning inside, Hepzibah pulled the cake out of the oven finding it done to perfection, even though it couldn’t have been in there for more than two or three minutes. She laughed and took off into the fog heading for young Mrs. Applegate’s cottage calling behind her: “I’ll give you more broom when I get back from the witch’s house once I’ve shown her how to make a proper ginger cake.”

“I’ll be up here,” said Billy quietly and he reached into his pocket and gave Tom Cat his piece of cake.

No sooner than Hepzibah was out of sight, she tripped over one of her shoe laces. The other shoe got stuck in some mud and was sucked off her foot, and you know how it is when that sort of thing happens. She lost her footing, and tumbled down the gully into the arms of the dragon. Hepzibah struck the dragon hard on the nose, so he ate her up with a crunch and smack of the lips, but…

“Blah, that didn’t taste so good.” The dragon then saw the whole ginger cake lying there. He smiled, licked his lips, and ate it up, and he was a lot happier for it. So much happier, he beat his old leathery wings for the first time in years, and took to the sky to seek a new life somewhere else.

The next day, when the town’s folk heard that the dragon had flown away, and the news that Hepzibah had either gone missing or been eaten by the dragon had got around, they ran up the hill to Billy’s cottage to check in on him. They found his place neat and tidy, the kettle hanging and whistling, Tom Cat cleaning himself there next to the fire and Billy fixing the seat on his mother’s rocking chair. There was a large square sticky ginger cake cooling off on the window ledge, waiting for people to try it. Young Mrs. Applegate saw it too, because she was there, smiling at the lad. And maybe Billy’s life, and not just the dragons, was a little better afterwards.

The End.

Retold by Simon Brooks, January, 2026

Words and scribbles © Simon Brooks 2026

Source: Katherine Briggs’ Dictionary of British Folk-tales (Routledge, 1970/2004 pg 148

And as I have said before. Not all folk and fairy tales are for young children!

I hope you enjoyed this tale. Have a great weekend.

Peace,
Simon