Farmer Huw and his wife, Megan, were hard working farmers.  He would manage the crops and the fields while she looked after the house, the fowl, and milked the cows. But no matter how hard they worked they never made much money. True, they always had something to eat whether they grew it, made it, or raised it, but never enough for a few luxuries. While the farm had good rich soil, when Farmer Huw grew wheat there was a glut of wheat and prices fell. When Farmer Huw grew barley the crop failed. When Farmer Huw grew turnips no-one wanted any that year. And when Farmer Huw grew cabbages other farmers sold theirs for less and got all the buyers.
“This year,” said Farmer Huw to his wife, “I am not going to grow just one crop. We have five fields and I will grow a different crop in each field”.
“What a good idea” said his wife, “that way if one fails there will be four other crops to sell. And if there is a glut of one we still have four other crops that we can sell for a good price”.
“If we make enough money this year perhaps we can have some nice clothes, one of those radio things, or even a car to drive down to the market!”
So field by field Farmer Huw worked from dawn to dusk, ploughing in the remains of last year’s crops and turning the soil, then spreading the manure to fertilise it, and then going over the fields again with a harrow to prepare the soil for the seeds. At the Farmer’s Market Farmer Huw carefully selected his seeds. He bought wheat seed, and turnips seed,  and cabbages, and barley seed, and decided to try oats as well. He heard one dealer saying that last year he couldn’t buy enough oats locally, so Farmer Huw reckoned he could perhaps get a good price for oats this year. Finally all the seeds were sown, and the April showers watered his seeds, and very soon the green shoots were beginning to sprout out of the ground.
“What we now need is a scarecrow” said Farmer Huw.
“I’ll make one right now” said his wife, “I am sure we have some clothes far too old to wear anymore.” And Megan set to work. The old clothes were stitched together, and stuffed with some old straw. His head was a big old turnip, too big and tough for even the cows to eat. Megan carved a face in that. More straw gave him a head of dirty blonde hair, and pair of old boots, even older scarf and an extremely old hat finished him off. “Now for the tricky bit” said his wife, “My mother told me that to work well a scarecrow needs to come alive. I have the words needed in my little book upstairs.” Off she went, and brought the book down to the barn were she was working. Finding the right page Megan chanted some strange words from an ancient language, and finally said “I name you Merfyn”, at which the carved mouth on the turnip head turned into a broad smile. Farmer Huw took Merfyn down to the wheat field and pushed the pole that supported him deep into rich soil.
“Now you make sure you scare the crows away”, Farmer Huw told Merfyn. “I don’t want the crows to eat my wheat. Nor any pigeons, blackbirds or any other birds for that matter” he added just for good measure. Merfyn nodded so much his old hat fell off and had to be put back on.
Merfyn liked this field. It had a view of the little river, and the weather had turned nice Unfortunately Merfyn was just a little bit too relaxed. During the day he lazed away, listening to the little river as it trickled along. And he found he liked the birdsong too. So he closed his eyes and dreamed away.  Well, when Farmer Huw came back to see how his wheat was growing he found it all eaten by the birds, and he was quite angry. “Why didn’t you scare away the crows, the pigeons, all the other birds”? Merfyn didn’t answer because as we all know, scarecrows cannot talk. “I’ll just have to re-plough the field, buy more seed, sow it, and hope it’s not too late for the wheat to ripen”. Farmer Huw pulled Merfyn up and moved him to the turnip field. “I don’t want the crows to eat my turnip seedlings. Nor any pigeons, blackbirds or any other birds for that matter, you lazy scarecrow” he added just for good measure. Merfyn nodded so much his old hat fell off and had to be put back on.
Merfyn liked the turnip field. It had a view of the little wood, and the weather was still nice. Unfortunately Merfyn was just a little bit too relaxed. During the day he liked listening to the wind rustling the leaves in the wood. And he found he liked the birdsong too. So he closed his eyes and dreamed, lazing the day away. Well, when Farmer Huw came back to see how his turnips were growing he found them all eaten by the birds, and he was quite angry. “Why didn’t you scare away the crows, the pigeons, all the other birds”? Merfyn didn’t answer because as we all know, scarecrows cannot talk. “I’ll just have to re-plough the field, buy more seed, sow it, and hope it’s not too late for the turnips to ripen”. Farmer Huw pulled Merfyn up and moved him to the barley field. “I don’t want the crows to eat my barley seedlings”, he instructed Merfyn “Nor any pigeons, blackbirds or any other birds for that matter, you lazy scarecrow” he added just for good measure. Merfyn nodded so much his old hat fell off and had to be put back on.
Merfyn liked the barley field. It was close to the lane, and the weather was still nice. Unfortunately Merfyn was just a little bit too relaxed. During the day he liked listening to the people chatting as they strolled down the lane. And he found he liked the birdsong too. So he closed his eyes and dreamed, lazing the day away.  Well, when Farmer Huw came back to see how his barley was growing he found it all eaten by the birds, and he was quite angry. “Why didn’t you scare away the crows, the pigeons, all the other birds”? Merfyn didn’t answer because as we all know, scarecrows cannot talk. “I’ll just have to re-plough the field, buy more seed, sow it, and hope it’s not too late for the barley to ripen”. Farmer Huw pulled Merfyn up and moved him to the cabbage field. “I don’t want the crows to eat my cabbage seedlings”, he instructed Merfyn “Nor any pigeons, blackbirds or any other birds for that matter, you lazy scarecrow” he added just for good measure. Merfyn nodded so much his old hat fell off and had to be put back on.
Merfyn liked the cabbage field. It was close to the milking shed, and the weather was still nice. Unfortunately Merfyn was just a little bit too relaxed. During the day he liked listening to the cows mooing softly as they were milked. And he found he liked the birdsong too. So he closed his eyes and dreamed, lazing the day away.  Well, when Farmer Huw came back to see how his cabbages were growing he found them all eaten by the birds, and he was quite angry. “Why didn’t you scare away the crows, the pigeons, all the other birds”? Merfyn didn’t answer because as we all know, scarecrows cannot talk. “I’ll just have to re-plough the field, buy more seed, sow it, and hope it’s not too late for the cabbages to ripen”. Farmer Huw pulled Merfyn up and moved him to the oat field. “I don’t want the crows to eat my oat seedlings”, he instructed Merfyn “Nor any pigeons, blackbirds or any other birds for that matter, you lazy scarecrow” he added just for good measure. Merfyn nodded so much his old hat fell off and had to be put back on. This time Farmer Huw told him “If you don’t do your job I shall pull you up, and take you apart, throw the clothes away, give the straw to the sheep, and put your turnip head for composting”.
Merfyn didn’t like the oat field. It was not close to anything, and deadly quiet, and the weather had changed to showers and strong winds. Even the birds here didn’t sing. Those around here were just big black crows that just “Caw, caw”, rather raucously. Merfyn was soon bored. But by now Farmer Huw’s instructions were beginning to sink into his turnip head. “I had better start to scare those big black crows away from Farmer Huw’s oats” he thought. He tried to shout “Shoo, shoo” at them, but no sound came, because as we all know, scarecrows cannot talk.  Merfyn then tried to whistle to scare the birds away, but no sound came because as we all know, scarecrows cannot whistle. Merfyn then tried to make his carved face on his turnip head look fierce and scary, but as we all know turnips only look scary when serve up on a plate boiled. “Oh dear” thought Merfyn. “What can I do to scare the birds away”? Finally Merfyn hit on an idea. He would wave his arms, and shake his legs to scare the big black crows, because as we all know scarecrows can wave their arms, and shake their legs. At first nothing happened, but when Merfyn began to wave his arms a bit more wildly and shake his legs more wildly a few of the big black crows flew away. So Merfyn waved his arms even more wildly and shake his legs more wildly he saw that he has scared away nearly half the big black crows. So Merfyn waved his arms frenetically and shook his legs frenetically so that he would scare all the big black crows away.
It was then that Farmer Huw reappeared at the gate to the oat field. He had come to see how Merfyn was doing because he did not want to have to re-plough the field, buy more seed, sow it, and hope it was not too late for it to ripen. What he saw was Merfyn the scarecrow waving and shaking like a maniac. Now we all know that scarecrows can wave their arms, and shake their legs; all of us except Farmer Huw that is. When he saw Merfyn waving and shaking he was totally astonished and thought that Merfyn must be possessed by the Devil himself! He certainly didn’t notice that Merfyn had scared away all the big black crows that had hoped to be eating the oat seedlings.
Farmer Huw, feeling brave enough to stand up against the Devil, ran across the field and pulled a box of matches out of his pocket. Merfyn was waving his arms and shaking his legs so much that he didn’t hear Farmer Huw coming up behind him, nor did he hear Farmer Huw strike a match. What he did know was that all of a sudden he felt very hot, then he was coughing because of the smoke. Finally he saw the flames leaping up in front of his face. Old clothes and old straw do burn quite easily, and fast. Mervyn now danced even more wildly, even though there were no big black crows to scare off. As the flames licked around his turnip head Merfyn tried to scream “Help, help!” and “Please help me”. Very, very soon Merfyn danced no more, because as we all know scarecrows cannot scream.