{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_15664/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_15664","id":"gutenberg_15664","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15664","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Humour","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales","Poetry"],"text":"Produced by Suzanne Shell, Eric Betts and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Illustration of \"Pepper and Salt\" written on a ribbon\nen-wrapping branches and toys.]\n\n[Illustration: This is the way that one in Cap and Motley stops for\nawhile along the stony Path of Life to make you laugh.]\n\n[Transcriber's Note: This is a full page picture of a country-side field\nwith children listening to a man in Cap and Motley play an instrument.\nOther full page illustrations within the text also will have short\ndescriptions in addition to the words of the poem on the page.]\n\n\n\n\nPepper & Salt,\n\nor\n\nSeasoning for _Young Folk_\n\nPrepared by\n\nHoward Pyle\n\n1885, reissued 1913.\n\n\nTHIS SPECIAL EDITION IS PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH THE PUBLISHERS OF\nTHE REGULAR EDITION\n\nHARPER & BROTHERS\n\nBY\n\n~E.M. HALE AND COMPANY~\n\nEAU CLAIRE, WISCONSIN\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nHere, my little man, you may hold my cap and bells,--and you, over\nthere, may hold the bauble! Now, then, I am ready to talk as a wise man\nshould and am a giddy-pated jester no longer!\n\nThis is what I have to say:\n\nOne must have a little pinch of seasoning in this dull, heavy life of\nours; one should never look to have all the troubles, the labors, and\nthe cares, with never a whit of innocent jollity and mirth. Yes, one\nmust smile now and then, if for nothing else than to lift the corners of\nthe lips in laughter that are only too often dragged down in sorrow.\n\nIt is for this that I sit here now, telling you all manner of odd quips\nand jests until yon sober, wise man shakes his head and goes his way,\nthinking that I am even more of a shallow-witted knave than I really am.\nBut, prut! Who cares for that? I am sure that I do not if you do not.\n\nYet listen! One must not look to have nothing but pepper and salt in\nthis life of ours--no, indeed! At that rate we would be worse off than\nwe are now. I only mean that it is a good and pleasant thing to have\nsomething to lend the more solid part a little savor now and then!\n\nSo, here I'll sit; and, perhaps, when you have been good children, and\nhave learned your lessons or done your work, your mother will let you\ncome and play a little while with me. I will always be ready and waiting\nfor you here, and I will warrant your mother that I will do you no harm\nwith anything that I may tell you. If I can only make you laugh and be\nmerry for a little while, then my work will be well done, and I will be\nglad in the doing of it.\n\nAnd now give me my cap and bells again, for my wits are growing cold\nwithout them; and you will be pleased to reach me my bauble once more,\nfor I love to have him by me.\n\nWill you be seated? And you, over there, seat the baby on the grass! Are\nyou ready? Very well; then I will tell you a story, and it shall be\nabout \"The Skillful Huntsman.\"\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTable of Contents\n\nTHE SKILLFUL HUNTSMAN Page 1\n Two Opinions Facing P. 4\n Ye Song Of Ye Foolish Old Woman \" 5\n A Newspaper Puff \" 12\n Three Fortunes \" 13\n\nCLAUS AND HIS WONDERFUL STAFF Page 14\n Venturesome Boldness Facing P. 16\n Superficial Culture \" 17\n\nHOW DAME MARGERY TWIST SAW MORE THAN WAS Page 28\n GOOD FOR HER\n Ye Song Of Ye Gossips Facing P. 32\n A Victim To Science \" 33\n Play And Earnest \" 36\n The Accident Of Birth \" 37\n\nCLEVER PETER AND THE TWO BOTTLES Page 43\n Ye Romantic Adventures Of Three Tailors Facing P. 44\n Fancy And Fact \" 45\n Ye Two Wishes \" 48\n A Verse With A Moral But Not Name \" 49\n\nHANS HECKLEMANN'S LUCK Page 57\n Ye Song Of Ye Rajah And Ye Fly Facing P. 64\n Pride In Distress \" 65\n Profession And Practice \" 68\n A Tale Of A Tub \" 69\n\nFARMER GRIGGS'S BOGGART Page 69\n Ye Story Of A Blue China Plate Facing P. 76\n Moral Blindness \" 77\n Overconfidence \" 80\n The Force Of Need \" 81\n\nTHE BIRD IN THE LINDEN TREE Page 82\n\nTHE APPLE OF CONTENTMENT Page 96\n A Disappointment Facing P. 96\n Ye Sad Story Concerning One Innocent \" 97\n Little Lamb And Four Wicked Wolves\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nList of Illustrations\n\nThis Is The Way That One In Cap And Frontispiece\n Motley Stops For Awhile Along The Stony\n Path Of Life To Make You Laugh\n\nJacob's Mother And The Herr Mayor Page 2\n\nJacob And The Red One \" 4\n\nTwo Opinions Facing P. 4\n\nYe Song Of Ye Foolish Old Woman \" 5\n\nJacob Shoots At The Magpie Page 6\n\nJacob And The Magic Plough \" 8\n\nJacob And The Red One Go Hunting Together \" 11\n\nA Newspaper Puff Facing P. 12\n\nThree Fortunes \" 13\n\nJacob And Gretchen Get The Best Of The Red Page 13\n One And Go Home Together Happily\n\nClaus And The Master Of Black-arts \" 16\n\nVenturesome Boldness Facing P. 16\n\nSuperficial Culture \" 17\n\nClause And The White Snake Page 18\n\nThe Master Is Angry \" 20\n\nClaus Listens To The Talk Of The Two Ravens \" 21\n\nClaus And The Manikin \" 23\n\nHans Discovers Claus's Luck \" 25\n\nDame Twist Drinketh Tea \" 30\n\nThe Little Man And The Great Horse \" 32\n\nYe Song Of Ye Gossips Facing P. 32\n\nA Victim To Science \" 33\n\nDame Twist Visits A Strange Patient Page 34\n\nDame Twist Drives Away The Little Folks \" 36\n\nPlay And Earnest Facing P. 36\n\nThe Accident Of Birth \" 37\n\nDame Margery Twist Goeth To See The Merry Page 38\n Doings At The Fair\n\nDame Twist Sees The Little Man In Green For Page 40\n The Last Time\n\nYe Romantic Adventures Of Three Tailors Facing P. 44\n\nFancy And Fact \" 45\n\nClever Peter And The Little Gentleman In Black Page 46\n\nClever Peter Rides To The King's Palace \" 48\n Upon His Fine Horse\n\nYe Two Wishes Facing P. 48\n\nA Verse With A Moral But No Name \" 49\n\nPeter Eats With The King And Princess Page 51\n\nClever Peter And The Unlucky Bottle \" 54\n\nClever Peter Opens The Unlucky Bottle For \" 56\n The King And Princess\n\nHans Hecklemann Page 58\n\nCatherine \" 58\n\nHans Hecklemann Goes To The Cottage Of \" 61\n The Old Wise Woman In Search Of His Luck\n\nHans Hecklemann And The Old Wise Woman Page 62\n\nHans Finds His Luck \" 64\n\nYe Song Of Ye Rajah And Ye Fly Facing P. 64\n\nPride In Distress \" 65\n\nHans Hecklemann Ploughs For Gold Page 65\n\nProfession And Practice Facing P. 68\n\nA Tale Of A Tub \" 69\n\nFarmer Georgie Griggs Page 70\n\nDame Mally Griggs \" 72\n\nFarmer Griggs And The Boggart \" 73\n\nYe Story Of A Blue China Plate Facing P. 76\n\nMoral Blindness \" 77\n\nThe Departure Page 77\n\nFarmer Griggs And The Wise Man \" 78\n\nOverconfidence Facing P. 80\n\nThe Force Of Need \" 81\n\nThe Boggart Rejoices Page 81\n\nYe King \" 84\n\nPrince John \" 84\n\nThe Prince Aids The Old Woman \" 86\n\nThe Great Ugly Troll Finds The Prince By The Fire \" 88\n\nThe Goose-herd And Her Daughter Meet The Princess \" 90\n At The Roadside\n\nThe Prince Looks Through The Magic Key Page 91\n\nThe Old King Rejoices At His New Daughter-in-law \" 94\n\nA Disappointment Facing P. 96\n\nYe Sad Story Concerning One Innocent Little \" 97\n Lamb And Four Wicked Wolves\n\nThe Little Man Asks For His Cap Page 98\n\nChristine And The Apple \" 100\n\nChristine's Mother And Sisters Wish For The Apple \" 101\n\nThe King Reaches For The Apple \" 101\n\nThe King Talks With The Wise Man \" 105\n\nThe King's Steward And Christine \" 106\n\nChristine Gives The Apple To The King \" 107\n\n\n\n\nPEPPER AND SALT\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE SKILLFUL HUNTSMAN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a lad named Jacob Boehm, who was a practical\nhuntsman.\n\nOne day Jacob said to his mother, \"Mother, I would like to marry\nGretchen--the nice, pretty little daughter of the Herr Mayor.\"\n\nJacob's mother thought that he was crazy. \"Marry the daughter of the\nHerr Mayor, indeed! You want to marry the daughter of the Herr Mayor?\nListen; many a man wants and wants, and nothing comes of it!\"\n\nThat was what Jacob Boehm's mother said to him.\n\nBut Jacob was deaf in that ear; nothing would do but his mother must go\nto the Herr Mayor, and ask for leave for him to marry Gretchen. And\nJacob begged and begged so prettily that at last his mother promised to\ngo and do as he wished. So off she went, though doubt was heavy in her\nshoes, for she did not know how the Herr Mayor would take it.\n\n\"So Jacob wants to marry Gretchen, does he?\" said the Herr Mayor.\n\nYes; that was what Jacob wanted.\n\n\"And is he a practical huntsman?\" said the Herr Mayor.\n\nOh yes, he was that.\n\n\"So good,\" said the Herr Mayor. \"Then tell Jacob that when he is such a\nclever huntsman as to be able to shoot the whiskers off from a running\nhare without touching the skin, then he can have Gretchen.\"\n\n[Illustration: JACOB'S MOTHER & THE HERR MAYOR]\n\nThen Jacob's mother went back home again. \"Now,\" said she, \"Jacob will,\nat least, be satisfied.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Jacob, when she had told him all that the Herr Mayor had\nsaid to her, \"that is a hard thing to do; but what one man has done,\nanother man can.\" So he shouldered his gun, and started away into the\nworld to learn to be as clever a huntsman as the Herr Mayor had said.\n\nHe plodded on and on until at last he fell in with a tall stranger\ndressed all in red.\n\n\"Where are you going, Jacob?\" said the tall stranger, calling him by his\nname, just as if he had eaten pottage out of the same dish with him.\n\n\"I am going,\" said Jacob, \"to learn to be so clever a huntsman that I\ncan shoot the whiskers off from a running hare without touching the\nskin.\"\n\n\"That is a hard thing to learn,\" said the tall stranger.\n\nYes; Jacob knew that it was a hard thing; but what one man had done\nanother man could do.\n\n\"What will you give me if I teach you to be as clever a huntsman as\nthat?\" said the tall stranger.\n\n\"What will you take to teach me?\" said Jacob; for he saw that the\nstranger had a horse's hoof instead of a foot, and he did not like his\nlooks, I can tell you.\n\n\"Oh, it is nothing much that I want,\" said the tall man; \"only just sign\nyour name to this paper--that is all.\"\n\nBut what was in the paper? Yes; Jacob had to know what was in the paper\nbefore he would set so much as a finger to it.\n\nOh, there was nothing in the paper, only this: that when the red one\nshould come for Jacob at the end of ten years' time, Jacob should\npromise to go along with him whithersoever he should take him.\n\nAt this Jacob hemmed and hawed and scratched his head, for he did not\nknow about that. \"All the same,\" said he, \"I will sign the paper, but on\none condition.\"\n\n[Illustration: Jacob and The Red One]\n\nAt this the red one screwed up his face as though he had sour beer in\nhis mouth, for he did not like the sound of the word \"condition.\"\n\"Well,\" said he, \"what is the condition?\"\n\n\"It is only this,\" said Jacob: \"that you shall be _my_ servant for the\nten years, and if, in all that time, I should chance to ask you a\nquestion that you cannot answer, then I am to be my own man again.\"\n\nOh, if that was all, the red man was quite willing for that.\n\nThen he took Jacob's gun, and blew down into the barrel of it. \"Now,\"\nsaid he, \"you are as skillful a huntsman as you asked to be.\"\n\n\"That I must try,\" said Jacob. So Jacob and the red one went around\nhunting here and hunting there until they scared up a hare. \"Shoot!\"\nsaid the red one; and Jacob shot. Clip! off flew the whiskers of the\nhare as neatly as one could cut them off with the barber's shears.\n\n\"Yes, good!\" said Jacob, \"now I am a skillful huntsman.\"\n\nThen the stranger in red gave Jacob a little bone whistle, and told him\nto blow in it whenever he should want him. After that Jacob signed the\npaper, and the stranger went one way and he went home again.\n\nWell, Jacob brushed the straws off from his coat, and put a fine shine\non his boots, and then he set off to the Herr Mayor's house.\n\n\"How do you find yourself, Jacob?\" said the Herr Mayor.\n\n\"So good,\" said Jacob.\n\n\"And are you a skillful huntsman now?\" said the Herr Mayor.\n\nOh yes, Jacob was a skillful huntsman now.\n\nYes, good! But the Herr Mayor must have proof of that. Now, could Jacob\nshoot a feather out of the tail of the magpie flying over the trees\nyonder?\n\nOh yes! nothing easier than that. So Jacob raised the gun to his cheek.\nBang! went the gun, and down fell a feather from the tail of the magpie.\nAt this the Herr Mayor stared and stared, for he had never seen such\nshooting.\n\n\"And now may I marry Gretchen?\" said Jacob.\n\n[Illustration: Jacob shoots at the Magpie]\n\nAt this the Herr Mayor scratched his head, and hemmed and hawed. No;\nJacob could not marry Gretchen yet, for he had always said and sworn\nthat the man who should marry Gretchen should bring with him a plough\nthat could go of itself, and plough three furrows at once. If Jacob\nwould show him such a plough as that, then he might marry Gretchen and\nwelcome. That was what the Herr Mayor said.\n\nJacob did not know how about that; perhaps he could get such a plough,\nperhaps he could not. If such a plough was to be had, though, he would\nhave it. So off he went home again, and the Herr Mayor thought that he\nwas rid of him now for sure and certain.\n\nBut when Jacob had come home, he went back of the woodpile and blew a\nturn or two on the little bone whistle that the red stranger had given\nhim. No sooner had he done this than the other stood before him as\nsuddenly as though he had just stepped out of the door of nowheres.\n\n\"What do you want, Jacob?\" said he.\n\n\"I would like,\" said Jacob, \"to have a plough that can go by itself and\nplough three furrows at once.\"\n\n\"That you shall have,\" said the red one. Then he thrust his hand into\nhis breeches pocket, and drew forth the prettiest little plough that you\never saw. He stood it on the ground before Jacob, and it grew large as\nyou see it in the picture. \"Plough away,\" said he, and then he went back\nagain whither he had come.\n\nSo Jacob laid his hands to the plough and--whisk!--away it went like\nJohn Stormwetter's colt, with Jacob behind it. Out of the farm-yard they\nwent, and down the road, and so to the Herr Mayor's house, and behind\nthem lay three fine brown furrows, smoking in the sun.\n\nWhen the Herr Mayor saw them coming he opened his eyes, you may be sure,\nfor he had never seen such a plough as that in all of his life before.\n\n\"And now,\" said Jacob, \"I should like to marry Gretchen, if you\nplease.\"\n\nAt this the Herr Mayor hemmed and hawed and scratched his head again.\nNo; Jacob could not marry Gretchen yet, for the Herr Mayor had always\nsaid and sworn that the man who married Gretchen should bring with him a\npurse that always had two pennies in it and could never be emptied, no\nmatter how much was taken out of it.\n\n[Illustration: Jacob and the Magic Plough]\n\nJacob did not know how about that; perhaps he could get it and perhaps\nhe could not. If such a thing was to be had, though, he would have it,\nas sure as the Mecklenburg folks brew sour beer. So off he went home\nagain, and the Herr Mayor thought that now he was rid of him for\ncertain.\n\nBut Jacob went back of the woodpile and blew on his bone whistle again,\nand once more the red one came at his bidding.\n\n\"What will you have now?\" said he to Jacob.\n\n\"I should like,\" said Jacob, \"to have a purse which shall always have\ntwo pennies in it, no matter how much I take out of it.\"\n\n\"That you shall have,\" said the red one; whereupon he thrust his hand\ninto his pocket, and fetched out a beautiful silken purse with two\npennies in it. He gave the purse to Jacob, and then he went away again\nas quickly as he had come.\n\nAfter he had gone, Jacob began taking pennies out of his purse and\npennies out of his purse, until he had more than a hatful--hui! I would\nlike to have such a purse as that.\n\nThen he marched off to the Herr Mayor's house with his chin up, for he\nmight hold his head as high as any, now that he had such a purse as that\nin his pocket. As for the Herr Mayor, he thought that it was a nice,\npretty little purse; but could it do this and that as he had said?\n\nJacob would show him that; so he began taking pennies and pennies out of\nit, until he had filled all the pots and pans in the house with them.\nAnd now might he marry Gretchen?\n\nYes; that he might! So said the Herr Mayor; for who would not like to\nhave a lad for a son-in-law who always had two pennies more in his purse\nthan he could spend.\n\nSo Jacob married his Gretchen, and, between his plough and his purse, he\nwas busy enough, I can tell you.\n\nSo the days went on and on and on until the ten years had gone by and\nthe time had come for the red one to fetch Jacob away with him. As for\nJacob, he was in a sorry state of dumps, as you may well believe.\n\nAt last Gretchen spoke to him. \"See, Jacob,\" said she, \"what makes you\nso down in the mouth?\"\n\n\"Oh! nothing at all,\" said Jacob.\n\nBut this did not satisfy Gretchen, for she could see that there was more\nto be told than Jacob had spoken. So she teased and teased, until at\nlast Jacob told her all, and that the red one was to come the next day\nand take him off as his servant, unless he could ask him a question\nwhich he could not answer.\n\n\"Prut!\" said Gretchen, \"and is that all? Then there is no stuffing to\nthat sausage, for I can help you out of your trouble easily enough.\"\nThen she told Jacob that when the next day should come he should do thus\nand so, and she would do this and that, and between them they might\ncheat the red one after all.\n\nSo, when the next day came, Gretchen went into the pantry and smeared\nherself all over with honey. Then she ripped open a bed and rolled\nherself in the feathers.\n\nBy-and-by came the red one. Rap! tap! tap! he knocked at the door.\n\n\"Are you ready to go with me now, Jacob?\" said he.\n\nYes; Jacob was quite ready to go, only he would like to have one favor\ngranted him first.\n\n\"What is it that you want?\" said the red one.\n\n\"Only this,\" said Jacob: \"I would like to shoot one more shot out of my\nold gun before I go with you.\"\n\nOh, if that was all, he might do that and welcome. So Jacob took down\nhis gun, and he and the red one went out together, walking side by side,\nfor all the world as though they were born brothers.\n\n[Illustration: Jacob and the Red One go hunting together]\n\nBy-and-by they saw a wren. \"Shoot at that,\" said the red one.\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Jacob, \"that is too small.\"\n\nSo they went on a little farther.\n\nBy-and-by they saw a raven. \"Shoot at that, then,\" said the red one.\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Jacob, \"that is too black.\"\n\nSo they went on a little farther.\n\nBy-and-by they came to a ploughed field, and there was something\nskipping over the furrows that looked for all the world like a great\nbird. That was Gretchen; for the feathers stuck to the honey and all\nover her, so that she looked just like a great bird.\n\n\"Shoot at that! shoot at that!\" said the red one, clapping his hands\ntogether.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said Jacob, \"I will shoot at that.\" So he raised his gun and\ntook aim. Then he lowered his gun again. \"But what is it?\" said he.\n\nAt this the red one screwed up his eyes, and looked and looked, but for\nthe life of him he could not tell what it was.\n\n\"No matter what it is,\" said he, \"only shoot and be done with it, for I\nmust be going.\"\n\n\"Yes, good! But what _is_ it?\" said Jacob.\n\nThen the red one looked and looked again, but he could tell no better\nthis time than he could before. \"It may be this and it may be that,\"\nsaid he. \"Only shoot and be done with it, for they are waiting for me at\nhome.\"\n\n\"Yes, my friend,\" said Jacob, \"that is all very good; only tell me what\nit is and I will shoot.\"\n\n\"Thunder and lightning!\" bawled the red one, _\"I do not know what it\nis!\"_\n\n\"Then be off with you!\" said Jacob, \"for, since you cannot answer my\nquestion, all is over between us two.\"\n\nAt this the red one had to leave Jacob, so he fled away over hill and\ndale, bellowing like a bull.\n\nAs for Jacob and Gretchen, they went back home together, very well\npleased with each other and themselves.\n\nAnd the meaning of all this is, that many another\n man beside Jacob Boehm would find himself\n in a pretty scrape only for his wife.\n\n[Illustration: Jacob and Gretchen get the best of the Red One and go\nhome together happily.]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: TWO OPINIONS. This is a full page illustrated poem\ndepicting the magpie in the poem, with the poem weaving through the\npictures.]\n\nTWO OPINIONS\n\n(Ye first opinion)\n\nA noisy chattering Magpie once\nA talking gabbling hairbrained dunce\n Came by where a sign-post stood.\nHe nodded his head with a modish air\nAnd said \"good day\" for he wasn't aware\nThat the sign-post pointing its finger there\n Was only a block of wood.\n\nQuoth he, \"An exceedingly sultry day.\nT'is more like June than the first of May.\"\n The post said never a word.\n\"I've just dropped over from Lincolnshire.\nMy home is in the Cathedral Spire--\nThe air is cooler and purer the higher\n You get--as you've doubtless heard.\"\n\nSo on he chattered with never a stop,\nAnd on and on till you'd think he would drop.\n (The post was dumb as your hat.)\nBut so as the pie could say his say\nHe didn't care whether it spoke all day;\nFor thus he observed as he walked away--\n \"An intelligent creature that.\"\n\n(Ye second opinion)\n\n Now once when the sky was pouring rain,\nThe Magpie chanced to come by again--\n And there stood the post in the wet.\n\"Helloa.\" said the Magpie. \"What you here\nPray tell me I beg is there sheltering near--\nA terrible day for this time of the year.\n T'would make a Saint Anthony fret.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon--I didn't quite hear.\"\n(Then louder) \"I say is there sheltering near\"\n But the post was as dumb as Death.\n\"What can't you answer a question pray\nYou will not--No--Then I'll say good-day.\"\nAnd flirting his tail he walked away.\n\"You'r a fool.\" (this under his breath.)\n\nL'ENVOY\n\nThe moral that this story traces\nIs--Circumstances alter cases.\n\nHoward Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Ye song of ye foolish old woman. This is an illustrated\npoem, with the top half being an old woman going up then down a hill.\nThe bottom is the poem, with court jesters on either side, left side\ntitled Hope in Adversity, right titled Fear in Prosperity.]\n\nYe song of ye foolish old woman.\n\nI saw an old woman go up a steep hill,\nAnd she chuckled and laughed, as she went, with a will.\n And yet, as she went,\n Her body was bent,\nWith a load as heavy as sins in Lent.\n\n\"Oh! why do you chuckle, old woman;\" says I,\n\"As you climb up the hill-side so steep and so high?\"\n \"Because, don't you see,\n I'll presently be,\nAt the top of the hill. He! he!\" says she.\n\nI saw the old woman go downward again;\nAnd she easily travelled, with never a pain;\n Yet she loudly cried,\n And gustily sighed,\nAnd groaned, though the road was level and wide.\n\n\"Oh! why, my old woman,\" says I, \"do you weep,\nWhen you laughed, as you climbed up the hill-side so steep?\"\n \"High-ho! I am vexed,\n Because I expects,\"\nSays she, \"I shall ache in climbing the next.\"\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A newspaper puff. This is a full page illustrated poem\ndepicting the geese acting out the poem.]\n\nA NEWSPAPER PUFF\n\nTwelve geese\nIn a row\n(So these\nAlways go).\nDown-hill\nThey meander,\nTail to bill;\nFirst the gander.\nSo they stalked,\nBold as brass\nAs they walked\nTo the grass.\n\nSuddenly\nStopped the throng;\nPlain to see\nSomething's wrong\nYes; there is\nSomething white!\nNo quiz;\nClear to sight.\n('Twill amuse\nWhen you're told\n'Twas a news-\nPaper old.)\n\nGander spoke.\nBraver bird\nNever broke\nEgg, I've heard:\n\"Stand here\nSteadily,\nNever fear,\nWait for me.\"\n\nForth he went,\nCautious, slow,\nBody bent,\nHead low.\nAll the rest\nStood fast,\nWaiting for\nWhat passed.\n\nWind came\nWith a caper,\nCaught same\nDaily paper.\nUp it sailed\nIn the air;\nCourage failed\nThen and there.\nScared well\nOut of wits;\nNearly fell\nInto fits.\nOff they sped,\nHelter-skelter,\n'Till they'd fled\nUnder shelter.\n\nPoor geese!\nNever mind;\nOther geese\nOne can find,\nCut the same\nFoolish caper\nAt empty wind\nIn a paper.\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Three Fortunes. This is a full page illustrated poem,\ndepicting: the three as they start the journey, the shoemaker with his\nlady, the tailor and baker on the path, the tailor lounging in the Inn,\nand the baker wandering \"To Nowhere.\"]\n\nTHREE FORTUNES\n\n A merry young shoemaker,\n And a tailor, and a baker,\nWent to seek their fortunes, for they had been told,\n Where a rainbow touched the ground,\n (If it only could be found,)\nWas a purse that should be always full of gold.\n\n So they traveled day by day,\n In a jolly, jocund way\nTill the shoemaker a pretty lass espied;\n When quoth he, \"It seems to me,\n There can never, never be,\nBetter luck than this in all the world beside.\"\n\n So the others said good-bye,\n And went on, till by-and-by\nThey espied a shady inn beside the way;\n Where the Hostess fair,--a widow--\n In a lone seclusion hid; \"Oh,\nHere is luck!\" the tailor said, \"and here I'll stay.\"\n\n So the baker jogged along,\n All alone, with ne'er a song,\nOr a jest; and nothing tempted him to stay.\n But he went from bad to worse,\n For he never found the purse,\nAnd for all I know he is wandering to this day.\n\n It is better, on the whole,\n For an ordinary soul,\n(So I gather from this song I've tried to sing,)\n For to take the luck that may\n Chance to fall within his way,\nThan to toil for an imaginary thing.\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nCLAUS & HIS WONDERFUL STAFF\n\n\nHans and Claus were born brothers. Hans was the elder and Claus was the\nyounger; Hans was the richer and Claus was the poorer--that is the way\nthat the world goes sometimes.\n\nEverything was easy for Hans at home; he drank much beer, and had\nsausages and white bread three times a day; but Claus worked and worked,\nand no luck came of it--that, also, is the way that the world goes\nsometimes.\n\nOne time Claus spoke to Hans of this matter. \"See, Hans,\" said he, \"you\nshould give me some money, for that which belongs to one brother should\nhelp the other.\"\n\nBut Hans saw through different colored spectacles than Claus. No; he\nwould do nothing of the kind. If Claus wanted money he had better go out\ninto, the world to look for it; for some folks said that money was\nrolling about in the wide world like peas on a threshing-floor. So said\nHans, for Claus was so poor that Hans was ashamed of him, and wanted him\nto leave home so as to be rid of him for good and all.\n\nThis was how Claus came to go out into the world.\n\nBut before he went, he cut himself a good stout staff of hazel-wood to\nhelp his heavy feet over the road.\n\nNow the staff that Claus had cut was a rod of witch-hazel, which has\nthe power of showing wherever treasure lies buried. But Claus knew no\nmore of that than the chick in the shell.\n\nSo off he went into the world, walking along with great contentment,\nkicking up little clouds of dust at every step, and whistling as gayly\nas though trouble had never been hatched from mares' eggs. By-and-by he\ncame to the great town, and then he went to the market-place and stood,\nwith many others, with a straw in his mouth--for that meant that he\nwanted to take service with somebody.\n\nPresently there came along an old, old man, bent almost double with the\nweight of the years which he carried upon his shoulders. This was a\nfamous doctor of the black-arts. He had read as many as a hundred books,\nso that he was more learned than any man in all of the world--even the\nminister of the village. He knew, as well as the birds know when the\ncherries are ripe, that Claus had a stick of witch-hazel, so he came to\nthe market-place, peering here and peering there, just as honest folks\ndo when they are looking for a servant. After a while he came to where\nClaus was, and then he stopped in front of him. \"Do you want to take\nservice, my friend?\" said he.\n\nYes, that was what Claus wanted; why else should he stand in the\nmarket-place with a straw in his mouth?\n\nWell, they bargained and bargained, and talked and talked, and the end\nof the matter was that Claus agreed to sell his services to the old\nmaster of black-arts for seven pennies a week. So they made their\nbargain, and off went the master with Claus at his heels. After they had\ncome a little distance away from the crowd at the marketplace, the\nmaster of black-arts asked Claus where he had got that fine staff of\nhazel.\n\n[Illustration: Claus and the Master of Black-Arts]\n\n\"Oh, I got it over yonder,\" said Claus, pointing with his thumb.\n\nBut could he find the place again?\n\nWell, Claus did not know how about that; perhaps he could, and perhaps\nhe could not.\n\nBut suppose that Claus had a thaler in his hand, _then_ could he find\nthe place again?\n\nOh yes; in that case Claus was almost sure that he could find the place\nagain.\n\nSo good. Then here was a bottle of yellow water. If Claus would take the\nbottle of yellow water, and pour it over the stump from which he had cut\nhis staff, there would come seven green snakes out of a hole at the foot\nof the hazel-bush. After these seven snakes, there would come a white\nsnake, with a golden crown on its head, from out of the same hole. Now\nif Claus would catch that white snake in the empty bottle, and bring it\nto the master of black-arts, he should have not one thaler, but\ntwo--that was what the master said.\n\nOh yes, Claus could do that; that was no such hard thing. So he took the\nbottle of yellow water and off he went.\n\nBy-and-by he came to the place where he had cut his hazel-twig. There he\ndid as the master of black-arts had told him; he poured the yellow water\nover the stump of hazel from which he had cut his staff. Then everything\nhappened just as the other had said: first there came seven green snakes\nout of the hole at the foot of the hazel-bush, and after they had all\ngone, there came a white snake, with a little golden crown on its head,\nand with its body gleaming like real silver. Then Claus caught the white\nsnake, and put it into the bottle and corked it up tightly. After he had\ndone this he went back to the master of black-arts again.\n\nNow this white snake was what the folk call a tomtsnake in that land.\nWhoever eats of a broth made of it can understand the language of all\nthe birds of the air and all the beasts of the field; so nobody need\nwonder that the master was as glad as glad could be to have his white\nsnake safe and sound.\n\n[Illustration: Claus and the White Snake]\n\nHe bade Claus build a fire of dry wood, and as soon as there was a good\nblaze he set a pot of water upon it to boil. When the water in the pot\nbegan to boil, he chopped up the white snake into little pieces and\nthrew them into it. So the snake boiled and boiled and boiled, and Claus\nstared with wonder as though he would never shut his eyes again.\n\nNow it happened that just about the time that the broth was cooked, the\nmaster was called out of the room for this or for that. No sooner was\nhis back turned than Claus began to wonder what the broth was like. \"I\nwill just have a little taste,\" said he to himself; \"surely it can do no\nharm to the rest of the soup.\" So he stuck his finger first into the\nbroth and then into his mouth; but what the broth tasted like he never\ncould tell, for just then the master came in again, and Claus was so\nfrightened at what he had done that he had no wits to think of the taste\nof anything.\n\nPresently the master of black-arts went to the pot of broth, and, taking\noff the lid, began smelling of it. But no sooner had he sniffed a smell\nof the steam than he began thumping his head with his knuckles, and\ntearing his hair, and stamping his feet. \"_Somebody's had a finger in my\nbroth!!!_\" he roared. For the master knew at once that all the magic had\nbeen taken out of it by the touch of Claus's finger.\n\nAs for poor Claus, he was so frightened that he fell upon his knees, and\nbegan begging: \"Oh! dear master--\" But he got no further than this, for\nthe master bawled at him,\n\n\"You have taken the best,\n You may have the rest.\"\n\nAnd so saying, he threw pot and broth and all at Claus, so that if he\nhadn't ducked his head he might have been scalded to death. Then Claus\nran out into the street, for he saw that there was no place for him to\nstay in that house.\n\nNow in the street there was a cock and a hen, scratching and clucking\ntogether in the dust, and Claus understood every word that they said to\neach other, so he stopped and listened to them.\n\nThis is what they said:\n\nThe cock said to the hen, \"Yonder goes our new serving-man.\"\n\nAnd the hen said to the cock, \"Yes, yonder he goes.\"\n\nAnd the cock said to the hen, \"He is leaving the best behind him.\"\n\n[Illustration: THE MASTER IS ANGRY]\n\nAnd the hen said to the cock, \"What is it that he is leaving?\"\n\nAnd the cock said to the hen, \"He is leaving behind him the witch-hazel\nstaff that he brought with him.\"\n\nAnd the hen said to the cock, \"Yes, that is so. He would be a fool to\nleave that behind, yet he is not the first one to think that peas are\npebbles.\"\n\nAs for Claus, you can guess how he opened his eyes, for he saw how the\nland lay, and that he had other ears than he had before.\n\n\"Hui!\" said he, \"that is good! I have bought more for my penny than I\nhad in my bargain.\"\n\nAs for the hazel staff, he was not going to leave that behind, you may\nbe sure. So he sneaked about the place till he laid hand on it again;\nthen he stepped away, right foot foremost, for he did not know what the\nmaster of black-arts might do to him if he should catch him.\n\nWell, after he had left the town, he went along, tramp! tramp! tramp!\nuntil, by-and-by, he grew tired and sat down beneath an oak-tree to rest\nhimself.\n\n[Illustration: Claus listens to the talk of the two ravens]\n\nNow, as he sat there, looking up through the leaves, thinking of nothing\nat all, two ravens came flying and lit in the tree above him. After a\nwhile the ravens began talking together, and this was what they said:\n\nThe one raven said, \"Yonder is poor Claus sitting below us.\"\n\nAnd the other raven said, \"_Poor_ Claus, did you say, brother? Do you\nnot see the witch-hazel lying on the ground beside him?\"\n\nThe one raven said, \"Oh yes; I see that, but what good does it do him?\"\n\nAnd the other raven said, \"It does him no good now, but if he were to go\nhome again and strike on the great stone on the top of the hill back of\nHerr Axel's house, then it would do him good; for in it lies a great\ntreasure of silver and gold.\"\n\nClaus had picked up his ears at all this talk, you may be sure. \"See,\"\nsaid he, \"that is the way that a man will pass by a great fortune in the\nlittle world at home to seek for a little fortune in the great world\nabroad\"--which was all very true. After that he lost no time in getting\nback home again.\n\n\"What! are you back again?\" said Hans.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said Claus, \"I am back again.\"\n\n\"That is always the way with a pewter penny,\" said Hans--for that is how\nsome of us are welcomed home after we have been away.\n\nAs for Claus, he was as full of thoughts as an egg is of meat, but he\nsaid nothing of them to Hans. Off he went to the high hill back of Herr\nAxel's house, and there, sure enough, was the great stone at the very\ntop of the hill.\n\nClaus struck on the stone with his oaken staff, and it opened like the\ndoor of a beer vault, for all was blackness within. A flight of steps\nled down below, and down the steps Claus went. But when he had come to\nthe bottom of the steps, he stared till his eyes were like great round\nsaucers; for there stood sacks of gold and silver, piled up like bags of\ngrain in the malt-house.\n\n[Illustration: Claus and the Manikin]\n\nAt one end of the room was a great stone seat, and on the seat sat a\nlittle manikin smoking a pipe. As for the beard of the little man, it\nwas as long as he was short, for it hung down so far that part of it\ntouched the stone floor.\n\n\"How do you find yourself, Claus?\" said the little manikin, calling\nClaus by his name.\n\n\"So good!\" said Claus, taking off his hat to the other.\n\n\"And what would you like to have, Claus?\" said the little man.\n\n\"I would like,\" said Claus, \"to have some money, if you please.\"\n\n\"Take what you want,\" said the little man, \"only do not forget to take\nthe best with you.\"\n\nOh no; Claus would not forget the best; so he held the staff tighter\nthan ever in his fist--for what could be better than the staff that\nbrought him there? So he went here and there, filling his pockets with\nthe gold and silver money till they bulged out like the pockets of a\nthief in the orchard; but all the time he kept tight hold of his staff,\nI can tell you.\n\nWhen he had as much as his pockets could hold, he thanked the little\nmanikin and went his way, and the stone door closed behind him.\n\nAnd now Claus lived like a calf in the green corn-field. Everything he\nhad was of the best, and he had twice as much of that as any of the\nneighbors. Then how brother Hans stared and scratched his head and\nwondered, when he saw how Claus sat in the sun all day, doing nothing\nbut smoking his pipe and eating of the best, as though he were a born\nprince! Every day Claus went to the little man in the hill with his\npockets empty, and came back with them stuffed with gold and silver\nmoney. At last he had so much that he could not count it, and so he had\nto send over to brother Hans for his quart-pot, so that he might measure\nit.\n\nBut Hans was cunning. \"I will see what makes brother Claus so well-off\nin the world all of a sudden,\" said he; so he smeared the inside of the\nquart-pot with bird-lime.\n\nThen Claus measured his gold and silver money in Hans's quart-pot, and\nwhen he was done with it he sent it back again. But more went back with\nthe quart-pot than came with it, for two gold-pieces stuck to the\nbirdlime, and it was these that went back with the pot to brother Hans.\n\n[Illustration: Hans discovers Claus's Luck]\n\n\"What!\" cried Hans, \"has that stupid Claus found so much money that he\nhas to measure it in a quart-pot? We must see the inside of this\nbusiness!\" So off he went to Claus's house, and there he found Claus\nsitting in the sun and smoking his pipe, just as though he owned all of\nthe world.\n\n\"Where did you get all that money, Claus?\" said Hans.\n\nOh! Claus could not tell him that.\n\nBut Hans was bound to know all about it, so he begged and begged so\nprettily that at last Claus had to tell him everything. Then, of course,\nnothing would do but Hans must have a try with the hazel staff also.\n\nWell, Claus made no words at that. He was a good-natured fellow, and\nsurely there was enough for both. So the upshot of the matter was that\nHans marched off with the hazel staff.\n\nBut Hans was no such simpleton as Claus; no, not he. Oh no, he would\nnot take all that trouble for two poor pocketfuls of money. He would\nhave a bagful; no, he would have _two_ bagfuls. So he slung two meal\nsacks over his shoulder, and off he started for the hill back of Herr\nAxel's house.\n\nWhen he came to the stone he knocked upon it, and it opened to him just\nas it had done for Claus. Down he went into the pit, and there sat the\nlittle old manikin, just as he had done from the very first.\n\n\"How do you find yourself, Hans?\" said the little old manikin.\n\nOh, Hans found himself very well. Might he have some of the money that\nstood around the room in the sacks?\n\nYes, that he might; only remember to take the best away with him.\n\nPrut! teach a dog to eat sausages. Hans would see that he took the best,\ntrust him for that. So he filled the bags full of gold, and never\ntouched the silver--for, surely, gold is better than anything else in\nthe world, says Hans to himself. So, when he had filled his two bags\nwith gold, and had shaken the pieces well down, he flung the one over\none shoulder, and the other over the other, and then he had as much as\nhe could carry. As for the staff of witch-hazel, he let it lie where it\nwas, for he only had two hands and they were both full.\n\nBut Hans never got his two bags of gold away from the vault, for just as\nhe was leaving--bang! came the stone together, and caught him as though\nhe was a mouse in the door; and that was an end of him. That happened\nbecause he left the witch-hazel behind.\n\nThat was the way in which Claus came to lose his magic staff; but that\ndid not matter much, for he had enough to live on and to spare. So he\nmarried the daughter of the Herr Baron (for he might marry whom he\nchose, now that he was rich), and after that he lived as happy as a fly\non the warm chimney.\n\nNow, _this_ is so--it is better to take a little away at a\n time and carry your staff with you, than to\n take all at once and leave it behind.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Venturesome Boldness. This illustrated poem depicts the\ntailor with a wooden sword standing before the knight on horseback.]\n\nVENTURESOME BOLDNESS\n\nA tailor came a-walking by,\nThe fire of courage in his eye.\n\"Where are you going Sir?\" Said I.\n\n \"I slew a mouse\n In our house\nWhere other tailors live,\" said he,\n \"And not a Jack\n Among the pack\nWould dare to do the like; pardie!\n Therefore, I'm going out to try\n If there be greater men that I;\n Or in the land\n As bold a hand\nAt wielding brand as I, you see!\"\n\nThe tailor came a-limping by\nWith woful face and clothes awry\nAnd all his courage gone to pie.\n\n \"I met a knight\n In armor bright\nAnd bade him stand and draw,\" said he;\n \"He straightaway did\n As he was bid,\nAnd treated me outrageously.\n So I shall get me home again,\n And probably shall there remain.\n A little man.\n Sir, always can\nBe great with folk of less degree!\"\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Superficial Culture. This is a full page illustrated\npoem depicting: the dame in a chair with the pig sitting on the floor in\nfront of her, the pig dancing in full dress, the pig in full dress\nbowing to a person, and the pig in full dress on bent knee before the\nlady he loved.]\n\nSUPERFICIAL CULTURE\n\nI'll tell of a certain old dame;\n The same\nHad a beautiful piggy, whose name\n Was James;\n and whose beauty and worth,\n From the day of his birth,\nWere matters of popular fame,\n And his claim\nTo gentility no one could blame.\n\nSo, seeing his promise, she thought\n She ought\nTo have him sufficiently taught\n The art\n Of deportment, to go\n Into company; so\nA master of dancing she brought,\n Who was fraught\nWith a style which the piggiwig caught.\n\nSo his company manners were rare.\n His care\nOf social observances there\n Would bear\n The closest inspection,\n And not a reflection\nCould rest on his actions, howe'er\n You might care\nTo examine 'em down to a hair.\n\nNow, things went beau-ti-ful-ly,\n Till he\nFell in love with a dame of degree;\n Pardie!\n When he tried for to speak,\n But could only say, \"O w-e-e-k!\"\nFor, whatever his polish might be,\n Why, dear me!\nHe was pig at the bottom, you see.\n\nH. PYLE.\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHOW DAME MARGERY TWIST SAW MORE THAN WAS GOOD FOR HER\n\n\nIf one could always hold one's tongue as to what one sees, one would be\nthe better for it. They are the wise people of this world who keep\nsilence as to what they see; many such there are who behold things such\nas neither you nor I may ever hope to look upon, and yet we know nothing\nof this because they say nothing of it, going their own ways like common\nfolks, and as though they saw nothing in an egg but the meat.\n\nDame Margery Twist of Tavistock town was not one of these wise folks who\nhold their tongues; she was a good, gossiping, chattering old soul,\nwhose hen never hatched a chick but all of the neighbors knew of it, as\nthe saying goes. The poor old creature had only one eye; how she lost\nthe other you shall presently hear, and also how her wonderful tulip\ngarden became like anybody else's tulip garden.\n\nDame Margery Twist lived all alone with a great tabby cat. She dwelt in\na little cottage that stood back from the road, and just across the way\nfrom the butcher's shop. All within was as neat and as bright as a new\npin, so that it was a delight just to look upon the row of blue dishes\nupon the dresser, the pewter pipkins as bright as silver, or the sanded\nfloor, as clean as your mother's table. Over the cottage twined sweet\nwoodbines, so that the air was ladened with their fragrance in the\nsummer-time, when the busy, yellow-legged bees droned amid the blossoms\nfrom the two hives that stood along against the wall. But the wonder of\nthe garden was the tulip bed, for there were no tulips in all England\nlike them, and folks came from far and near, only to look upon them and\nto smell their fragrance. They stood in double rows, and were of all\ncolors--white, yellow, red, purple, and pied. They bloomed early, and\nlasted later than any others, and, when they were in flower, all the air\nwas filled with their perfume.\n\nNow all of these things happened before the smoke of the factories and\nthe rattling of the steam-cars had driven the fairy folks away from this\nworld into No-man's-land, and this was the secret of the dame's fine\ntulip bed. For the fairies dwelt among the flowers, and she often told\nher gossips how that she could hear the fairy mothers singing their\nbabies to sleep at night, when the moon was full and the evening was\nwarm. She had never seen the little folks herself, for few folks are\ngiven to look upon them, and Dame Margery's eyes were not of that\nnature. Nevertheless, she heard them, and that, in my opinion, is the\nnext best thing to seeing them.\n\nDame Margery Twist, as I said, was a good, kind, comfortable old soul,\nand was, moreover, the best nurse in all of Tavistock town. Was any one\nill, it was Dame Margery who was called upon to attend him; as for the\ndame herself, she was always ready to bring a sick body into good health\nagain, and was always paid well for the nursing.\n\n[Illustration: DAME TWIST DRINKETH TEA]\n\nOne evening the dame was drinking her tea by herself with great comfort.\nIt was just at the dusking of the twilight; the latticed window was\nopened, so that the little breezes came rushing into the room, or stayed\na while to play wantonly with the white linen curtains. The tabby cat\nwas purring in the door-way, and the dame was enjoying the sweetness of\nthe summer-time. There came a knock at the door, \"Who is it?\" said Dame\nMargery.\n\n\"It's Tommy Lamb, if you please, ma'am,\" said a little voice.\n\n\"Come in, Tommy,\" said the dame.\n\nSo in came Tommy Lamb, a little, curly-headed fellow, not any older than\nyou, \"What is it you want, Tommy?\" said the dame.\n\n\"If you please, ma'am, there's a little gentleman outside, no taller\nthan I be; he gave me this box, and told me to tell you to rub your eyes\nwith the salve and then to come out to him.\"\n\nThe dame looked out of the window, but never a body stood there that she\ncould see. \"Where is the gentleman, dearie?\" said she.\n\n\"Yonder he is, with a great white horse standing beside him,\" said Tommy\nLamb, and he pointed with his finger as he spoke.\n\nThe dame rubbed her eyes and looked again, but never a thing did she see\nbut the green gate, the lilac-bushes, and the butcher's shop opposite.\nThe truth of the matter is, that little children like you, my dear, see\nthings which we grown folks, with the dust of the world in our eyes, may\nnever behold. \"Well,\" said Dame Margery to herself, \"this is strange,\nfor sure! _I_ see no little old gentleman in green.\" Then she opened the\nbox that she held, and looked into it and saw that it was filled with a\ngreen salve. \"I'll rub some of it on my eyes, at any rate,\" said she;\nwhereupon she did so. Then she looked again, and, lo and behold! there\nstood a little old man, no taller than Tommy Lamb. His face was as\nbrown, and as withered, and as wrinkled as a winter's crab-apple left on\nthe bare tree when the frost is about. He was dressed all in green from\ntop to toe, and on his head was a tall green cap, with a bell at the\npeak, which tinkled at every movement of his head. By his side stood a\ngreat, tall, milk-white horse, with a long tail and mane tied with\nparty-colored ribbons.\n\n[Illustration: THE LITTLE MAN AND THE GREAT HORSE]\n\nDame Margery went out to the little old gentleman in green, and asked\nhim what he would have with her. He told the dame that his wife was\nsorely sick, and that he wanted her to come and nurse her for the night.\nAt this Dame Margery hemmed and hawed and shook her head, for she did\nnot like the thought of going out at night, she knew not where, and with\nsuch a strange little body. Then the little man begged her and pleaded\nwith her, and his voice and his words were as sweet as honey. At last he\npersuaded her to go, promising her a good reward if she would nurse his\nwife back into her health again. So the dame went back into the cottage\nto make ready for her journeying, throwing her red riding-cloak over her\nshoulders, and drawing her thick shoes upon her feet. Then she filled\nher reticule with a parcel of simples, in case they should be needed.\nAfter this she came out again, and climbed up behind the little man in\ngreen, and so settled herself upon the pillion saddle for her ride. Then\nthe little man whistled to his horse, and away they went.\n\nThey seemed to fly rather than ride upon the hard ground, for the hedges\nand cottages and orchards flew past as though in a dream. But fast as\nthey went, the old dame saw many things which she had never dreamed of\nbefore. She saw all of the hedge-rows, the by-ways, the woods and fields\nalive with fairy-folk. Each little body was busy upon his or her own\nbusiness, laughing, chatting, talking, and running here and there like\nfolks on a market-day.\n\n[Illustration: DAME TWIST VISITS A STRANGE PATIENT]\n\nSo they came at last to a place which the dame knew was the\nthree-tree-hill; but it was not the three-tree-hill which she had seen\nin all of her life before, for a great gateway seemed to open into it\nand it was into this gateway that the little man in green urged the\ngreat white horse.\n\nAfter they had entered the hill, Dame Margery climbed down from the\npillion and stood looking about her. Then she saw that she was in a\ngreat hall, the walls of which were glistening with gold and silver,\nwhile bright stones gleamed like so many stars all over the roof of the\nplace. Three little fairy children were playing with golden balls on the\nfloor, and when they saw the dame they stopped in their sport and stood\nlooking silently upon her with great, wide-opened eyes, just as though\nthey were little mortal children. In the corner of the room was a bed\nall of pure gold, and over the bed were spread coverlets of gold and\nsilver cloth, and in the bed lay a beautiful little lady, very white and\nill. Then Dame Margery knew well enough that every one of these little\npeople were fairies.\n\nThe dame nursed the fairy lady all that night, and by cock-crow in the\nmorning the little woman had ease from her pain.\n\nThen the little man spoke for the first time since Dame Margery had left\nhome. \"Look'ee, Dame Margery,\" said he; \"I promised to pay you well and\nI will keep my word. Come hither!\" So the dame went to him as he had\nbidden her to do, and the little man filled her reticule with black\ncoals from the hearth. The dame said nothing, but she wondered much\nwhether the little man called this good pay for her pains. After this\nshe climbed up on the great horse again, and behind the little man, and\nthey rode out of the place and home, where they were safe and sound\nere the day had fairly broken. But before the little man had left her he\ndrew out another little box just like the one that Tommy Lamb had\nbrought her the evening before, only this time the box was filled with\nred ointment. \"Rub your eyes with this, Dame Margery,\" said he.\n\n[Illustration: DAME TWIST DRIVES AWAY THE LITTLE FOLKS]\n\nNow Dame Margery Twist knew butter from cheese, as the saying is. She\nknew that the green salve was of a kind which very few people have had\nrubbed over their eyes in this world; that it was of a kind which poets\nwould give their ears to possess--even were it a lump no larger than a\npea. So, when she took the box of red ointment, she only rubbed one eye\nwith it--her left eye. Her right eye she pretended to rub, but, in\ntruth, she never touched it at all.\n\nThen the little man got upon his horse again, and rode away to his home\nin the hill.\n\nAfter he had gone away, Dame Margery thought that she would empty her\nreticule of the dirty black coals; so she turned it topsy-turvy, and\nshook it over the hearth, and out tumbled--black coals? No; great lumps\nof pure gold that shone bright yellow, like fire, in the light of the\ncandle. The good dame could scarcely believe her eyes, for here was\nwealth enough to keep her in comfort for all the rest of her days.\n\nBut Dame Margery's right eye! I wish I could only see what she saw with\nthat right eye of hers! What was it she saw? That I will tell you.\n\nThe next night was full moon, and Dame Margery came and looked out over\nthe fine bed of tulips, of which she was very proud. \"Hey-day!\" she\ncried, and rubbed her eyes, in doubt as to whether she was asleep or\nawake, for the whole place was alive with little folks.\n\nBut she was awake, and it was certain that she saw them. Yes; there they\nwere--little men, little women, little children, and little babies, as\nthick in the tulip bed as folks at a wedding. The little men sat smoking\ntheir pipes and talking together; the little women sat nursing their\nbabies, singing to them or rocking them to sleep in cradles of tulip\nflowers; the little children played at hide-and-seek among the\nflower-stalks. So the dame leaned out of the window, watching them with\ngreat delight, for it is always a delight to watch the little folks at\ntheir sports.\n\n[Illustration: Dame Margery Twist goeth to see the merry doings at the\nFair.]\n\nAfter a while she saw where one of the tiny fairy children hid himself\nunder a leaf, while the others who were to seek him looked up and down,\nand high and low, but could find him nowhere. Then the old dame laughed\nand laughed to see how the others looked for the little fellow, but\ncould not tell where he was. At last she could hold her peace no longer,\nbut called out in a loud voice, \"Look under the leaf, Blackcap!\"\n\nThe words were no sooner out of her mouth than, whisk! whirr! off they\nscampered out of the garden and away--fathers, mothers, children,\nbabies, all crying in their shrill voices, \"She sees us! she sees us!\"\nFor fairies are very timid folk, and dread nothing more than to have\nmortals see them in their own shapes.\n\nSo they never came back again to the dame's garden, and from that day to\nthis her tulips have been like everybody else's tulips. Moreover,\nwhenever she went out the fairies scampered away before her like so many\nmice, for they all knew that she could see them with her magical eye.\nThis, as you may see, was bad enough, but no other harm would have come\nof it if she had only gathered wisdom at that time, seeing what ill came\nof her speech. But, like many other old dames that I wot of, no sound\nwas so pleasant to her ears as the words of her own mouth.\n\nNow, about a twelvemonth after the time that the dame had nursed the\nfairy lady, the great fair was held at Tavistock. All the world and his\nwife were there, so, of course, Dame Margery went also. And the fair was\nwell worth going to, I can tell you! Booths stood along in a row in the\nyellow sunlight of the summer-time, and flags and streamers of many\ncolors fluttered in the breeze from long poles at the end of each booth.\nAle flowed like water, and dancing was going on on the green, for Peter\nWeeks the piper was there, and his pipes were with him. It was a fine\nsight to see all of the youths and maids, decked in fine ribbons of pink\nand blue, dancing hand-in-hand to his piping. In the great tent the\ncountry people had spread out their goods--butter, cheese, eggs, honey,\nand the like--making as goodly a show as you would want to see. Dame\nMargery was in her glory, for she had people to gossip with everywhere;\nso she went hither and thither, and at last into the great tent where\nthese things of which I have spoken were all spread out for show.\n\n[Illustration: Dame Twist sees the little man in green for the last\ntime]\n\nThen, lo and behold! who should she see, gliding here and there among\nthe crowd of other people, but the little man in green whom she had seen\na year ago. She opened her eyes mightily wide, for she saw that he was\ndoing a strange thing. By his side hung a little earthenware pot, and\nin his hand he held a little wooden scraper, which he passed over the\nrolls of butter, afterwards putting that which he scraped from the rolls\ninto the pot that hung beside him. Dame Margery peeped into the pot, and\nsaw that it was half full; then she could contain herself no longer.\n\n\"Hey-day, neighbor!\" cried she, \"here be pretty doings, truly! Out upon\nthee, to go scraping good luck and full measure off of other folks'\nbutter!\"\n\nWhen the little man in green heard the dame speak to him, he was so\namazed that he nearly dropped his wooden scraper. \"Why, Dame Margery!\ncan you see me then?\"\n\n\"Aye, marry can I! And what you are about doing also; out upon you, say\nI!\"\n\n\"And did you not rub your eyes with the red salve then?\" said the little\nman.\n\n\"One eye, yes, but one eye, no,\" said the dame, slyly.\n\n\"Which eye do you see me with?\" said he.\n\n\"With this eye, gossip, and very clearly, I would have you know,\" and\nshe pointed to her right eye.\n\nThen the little man swelled out his cheeks until they were like two\nlittle brown dumplings. Puff! he blew a breath into the good dame's eye.\nPuff! he blew, and if the dame's eye had been a candle, the light of it\ncould not have gone out sooner.\n\nThe dame felt no smart, but she might wink and wink, and wink again, but\nshe would never wink sight into the eye upon which the little man had\nblown his breath, for it was blind as the stone wall back of the mill,\nwhere Tom the tinker kissed the miller's daughter.\n\nDame Margery Twist never greatly missed the sight of that eye; but all\nthe same, I would give both of mine for it.\n\nAll of these things are told at Tavistock town even to this day; and if\nyou go thither, you may hear them for yourself.\n\nBut I say again, as I said at first: if one could\n only hold one's tongue as to what one sees,\n one would be the better for it.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: YE SONG OF YE GOSSIPS. This is a full page illustrated\npoem depicting: the three old maids gossiping at a table, the two old\nmaids gossiping as the other leaves, and the last old maid sitting\nalone.]\n\nYE SONG OF YE GOSSIPS\n\n 1\n\n One old maid,\n And another old maid,\n And another old maid--that's three--\nAnd they were agossiping, I am afraid,\n As they sat sipping their tea.\n\n 2\n\n They talked of this,\n And they talked of that,\n In the usual gossiping way\nUntil everybody was black as your hat,\n And the only ones white were they.\n\n 3\n\n One old maid,\n And another old maid,--\n For the third had gone into the street--\nWho talked in a way of that third old maid,\n Which never would do to repeat.\n\n 4\n\n And now but one\n Dame sat all alone,\n For the others were both away.\n\"I've never yet met,\" said she, with a groan,\n \"Such scandalous talkers as they.\"\n\n 5\n\n \"Alas! and alack!\"\n \"We're all of a pack!\n For no matter how we walk,\nOr what folk say to our face, our back\n Is sure to breed gossip and talk.\"\n\nH. PYLE\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A victim to Science. This is a full page illustrated\npoem depicting the two physicians walking, the two finding the crow, and\nthe crow feet up on the path as they continue to argue.]\n\nA VICTIM TO SCIENCE\n\nTh're were two wise physicians once, of glory and renown,\nWho went to take a little walk nigh famous Concord town.\nOh! very, very great and wise and learned men were they,\nAnd wise and learned was th'r talk, as they walked on th'r way.\nAnd as they walked and talked and talked, they came to wh're they found\nA Crow as black as any hat, a-sitting on ye ground.\nYe Crow was very, very sick, as you may quickly see\nBy just looking at ye picture th't is drawn h're by me.\nNow wh'n ye doctors came to him they mended of th'r pace,\nAnd said one unto ye other, \"H're's an interesting case,\nA case th't sh'ld be treated, and be treated speedily.\nI have--yes, here it is--a pill th't has been made by me.\nNow, I have had occasion--\" Said ye other, \"In most cases\nYour pills are excellently good, but h're, my friend, are traces\nOf a lassitude, a languor, th't your pills c'ld hardly aid;\nIn short, they're rather violent for th's, I am afraid.\n_I_ have a tincture--\" Said ye first, \"Your tincture cannot touch\nA case as difficult as th's, my pills are better much.\"\n\"Your pills, sir, are too violent.\" \"Your tonic is too weak.\"\n\"As I have said, sir, in th's case--\" \"Permit me, sir, to speak.\"\nAnd so they argued long and high, and on, and on, and on,\nUntil they lost their tempers, and an hour or more had gone.\nBut long before their arguments ye question did decide,\nYe Crow, not waiting for ye end, incontinently died.\n\nYE MORAL\n\n(_is apparent_.)\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Play & Earnest. This is a full page illustrated poem\ndepicting the wind in fairy form first playing with the tree and then as\na tempest.]\n\nPLAY & EARNEST\n\nOver dewy hill and lea\n Merrily\nRushed a mad-cap breeze at play,\nAnd the daisies, like the bright\n Stars at night,\nDanced and twinkled in its way.\n\nNow, a tree called to the breeze,\n \"Little breeze,\nWill you come and have a play?\"\nAnd the wind upon its way\n Stopped to play.\nThen the leaves, with sudden shiver,\n Sudden quiver,\n Met the light\n Mad-cap breeze\n With delight.\n\nPresently the breeze grew stronger,\nFor it cared to play no longer.\n So it flung the limbs about,\n And it tossed the leaves in rout,\nTill it roared, as though with thunder.\n Then the poor tree groaned and bent,\n And the breeze,--a tempest,--rent\n Leaves and branches from its crowns\n Till, at last, it flung it down,\nStripped, and bare, and torn asunder.\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: The accident of birth. This is a full page illustrated\npoem with pictures of: \"Ye King\" praying, \"Ye Saint\" holding the baby\nwith stork standing by, \"Ye Stork\" with baby in flight, and \"Ye Cobbler\"\nat work.]\n\nTHE ACCIDENT OF BIRTH.\n\n _Saint Nicholas_ used to send, so I am told,\n All new-born babes by storks, in days of old.\n\n1\nKing Friedrich Max of Stultzenmannenkim,\n For many years unto the Saint did pray,\nThat he would send unto his Queen and him,\n A baby boy, to be the King some day.\nAt last the Saint the King's petition heard,\nAnd called to him a sober long-legged bird.\n\n2\nQuoth he, \"Good Wilhelm Stork (such was its name),\n Here is a baby boy to take away.\nIt is for Fritz; so bear him to the same,\n Or rather to his Queen, without delay.\nFor one grows weary when one always hears\nThe same words daily dinning in one's ears.\"\n\n3\nNow Wilhelm Stork was old, and dull of wits,\n For age not always sharpens wisdom much,\nSo what does he but bear the gift to Fritz\n The cobbler, who had half a score of such.\nAnd so the baby, through a blunder, passed\nFrom being first of all, unto--_ye last_.\n\n4\nFrom this I gather that a new-born Prince,\n From new-born cobbler's somewhat hard to know,\nFor which of us could tell the difference, since\n One thus experienced was mistaken so?\nAlso, perhaps, _I_ should be great, instead\nOf writing thus, to earn my daily bread.\n\nH.P. MDCCCLXXXIII\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nCLEVER PETER & THE TWO BOTTLES\n\n\"Yes, Peter is clever.\" So said his mother; but then every goose thinks\nher own gosling a swan.\n\nThe minister and all of the people of the village said Peter was but a\ndull block. Maybe Peter _was_ a fool; but, as the old saying goes, never\na fool tumbles out of the tree but he lights on his toes. So now you\nshall hear how that Peter sold his two baskets of eggs for more than you\nor I could do, wise as we be.\n\n\"Peter,\" said his mother.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Peter, for he was well brought up, and always answered when\nhe was spoken to.\n\n\"My dear little child, thou art wise, though so young now; how shall we\nget money to pay our rent?\"\n\n\"Sell the eggs that the speckled hen has laid,\" said Peter.\n\n\"But when we have spent the money for them, what then?\"\n\n\"Sell more eggs,\" said Peter, for he had an answer for everything.\n\n\"But when the speckled hen lays no more eggs, what shall we do then?\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" said Peter.\n\n\"Now indeed art thou wise,\" said his mother, \"and I take thy meaning;\nit is this, when we have spent all, we must do as the little birds do,\nand trust in the good Heaven.\" Peter meant nothing of the kind, but then\nfolks will think that such wise fellows as Peter and I mean more than we\nsay, whence comes our wisdom.\n\nSo the next day Peter started off to the town, with the basket full of\nnice white eggs. The day was bright and warm and fair; the wind blew\nsoftly, and the wheatfields lay like green velvet in the sun. The\nflowers were sprinkled all over the grass, and the bees kicked up their\nyellow legs as they tilted into them. The garlic stuck up stout spikes\ninto the air, and the young radishes were green and lusty. The brown\nbird in the tree sang, \"Cuckoo! cuckoo!\" and Peter trudged contentedly\nalong, kicking up little clouds of dust at every footstep, whistling\nmerrily and staring up into the bright sky, where the white clouds hung\nlike little sheep, feeding on the wide blue field. \"If those clouds were\nsheep, and the sheep were mine, then I would be a great man and very\nproud,\" said Peter. But the clouds were clouds, and he was not a great\nman; nevertheless, he whistled more merrily than ever, for it was very\nnice to think of these things.\n\nSo he trudged along with great comfort until high noontide, against\nwhich time he had come nigh to the town, for he could see the red roofs\nand the tall spires peeping over the crest of the next green hill. By\nthis time his stomach was crying, \"Give! give!\" for it longed for bread\nand cheese. Now, a great gray stone stood near by at the forking of the\nroad, and just as Peter came to it he heard a noise. \"Click! clack!\" he\nturned his head, and, lo and behold! the side of the stone opened like a\ndoor, and out came a little old man dressed all in fine black velvet.\n\"Good-day, Peter,\" said he. \"Good-day, sir,\" said Peter, and he took off\nhis hat as he spoke, for he could see with half an eye that this little\nold gentleman was none of your cheese-paring fine folks.\n\n\"Will you strike a bargain with me for your eggs?\" said the little old\nman. Yes, Peter would strike a bargain; what would the little gentleman\ngive him for his eggs? \"I will give you this,\" said the little old man,\nand he drew a black bottle out of his pocket.\n\nPeter took the bottle and turned it over and over in his hands. \"It is,\"\nsaid he, \"a pretty little, good little, sweet little bottle, but it is\nnot worth as much as my basket of eggs.\"\n\n\"Prut!\" said the little gentleman, \"now you are not talking like the\nwise Peter. You should never judge by the outside of things. What would\nyou like to have?\"\n\n\"I should like,\" said Peter, \"to have a good dinner.\"\n\n\"Nothing easier!\" said the little gentleman, and he drew the cork. Pop!\npop! and what should come out of the bottle but two tall men, dressed\nall in blue with gold trimmings. \"What will you have, sir?\" said the\nfirst of these to the little gentleman.\n\n\"A good dinner for two,\" said the little man.\n\nNo sooner said than done; for, before you could say Frederic\nStrutzenwillenbachen, there stood a table, with a sweet, clean, white\ncloth spread over it, and on this was the nicest dinner that you ever\nsaw, for there were beer and chitterlings, and cheese and good white\nbread, fit for the king. Then Peter and the little man fell to with\nmight and main, and ate till they could eat no more. After they were\ndone, the two tall men took table and dishes and all back into the\nbottle again, and the little gentleman corked it up.\n\n[Illustration: Clever Peter & the Little Gentleman in Black]\n\n\"Yes,\" said Peter, \"I will give you my basket of eggs for the little\nblack bottle.\" And so the bargain was struck. Then Peter started off\nhome, and the little man went back again into the great stone and closed\nthe door behind him. He took the basket of eggs with him; where he took\nit neither Peter nor I will ever be able to tell you.\n\nSo Peter trudged along homeward, until, after a while, the day waxing\nwarm, he grew tired. \"I wish,\" said he, \"that I had a fine white horse\nto ride.\"\n\nThen he took the cork out of the bottle. Pop! pop! and out came the two\ntall fellows, just as they had done for the little old man. \"What will\nyou have, sir?\" said the first of them.\n\n\"I will have,\" said Peter, \"a fine white horse to ride.\"\n\nNo sooner said than done; for there, before him in the road, stood a\nfine white horse, with a long mane and tail, just like so much spun\nsilk. In his mouth was a silver bit; on his back was a splendid saddle,\ncovered all over with gold and jewels; on his feet were shoes of pure\ngold, so that he was a very handsome horse indeed.\n\nPeter mounted on his great horse and rode away home, as grand as though\nhe were a lord or a nobleman.\n\nEvery one whom he met stopped in the middle of the road and looked after\nhim. \"Just look at Peter!\" cried they; but Peter held his chin very\nhigh, and rode along without looking at them, for he knew what a fine\nsight he was on his white horse.\n\nAnd so he came home again.\n\n\"What didst thou get for thy eggs, my little duck?\" said his mother.\n\n\"I got a bottle, mother,\" said Peter.\n\nThen at first Peter's mother began to think as others thought, that\nPeter was a dull block. But when she saw what a wonderful bottle it was,\nand how it held many good things and one over, she changed her mind\nagain, and thought that her Peter was as wise as the moon.\n\nAnd now nothing was lacking in the cottage; if Peter and his mother\nwanted this, it came to them; if they wished for that, the two tall men\nin the bottle fetched it. They lined the house all inside with pure\ngold, and built the chimneys of bricks of silver, so that there was\nnothing so fine between all the four great rivers. Peter dressed in\nsatin and his mother in silk, and everybody called him \"Lord Peter.\"\nEven the minister of the village said that he was no dull boy, for\nnobody is dull who rides on horseback and never wears wooden shoes. So\nnow Peter was a rich man.\n\n[Illustration: Clever Peter rides to the King's Palace upon his fine\nHorse.]\n\nOne morning Peter said to his mother, \"Mother, I am going to ask the\nKing to let me marry his daughter.\"\n\nTo this his mother said nothing, for surely her Peter was as good as any\nprincess that ever lived.\n\nSo off Peter rode, dressed all in his best and seated astride of a grand\nhorse. At last he came to the palace which was finer than the handsome\nnew house of Herr Mayor Kopff. Rap! rap! rap! Peter knocked at the door,\nand presently came a neat servant girl and opened it to him. \"Is the\nKing at home, my dear?\" said Peter.\n\nYes, the King was at home; would he come into the parlor and sit down?\nSo Peter went into the parlor and sat down, and then the King came in,\ndressed all in his best dressing-gown, with silver slippers upon his\nfeet, and a golden crown upon his head.\n\n\"What is your name?\" said the King.\n\n\"Peter Stultzenmilchen,\" said Peter.\n\n\"And what do you want, Lord Peter,\" said the King; for, as I have said,\nPeter was dressed in his best clothes, and the old King thought that he\nwas a great lord.\n\n\"I want to marry your daughter,\" said Peter.\n\nTo this the King said \"Hum-m-m,\" and Peter said nothing. Then the King\nsaid that he had determined that no one should marry his daughter\nwithout bringing him a basketful of diamonds, rubies, topazes, emeralds,\npearls, and all manner of precious stones; for he thought by this to get\nrid of Peter.\n\n\"Is that all?\" said Peter. \"Nothing is easier.\"\n\nSo off he went, until he came to a chestnut woods just back of the royal\nkitchen-garden. There he uncorked his bottle. Pop! pop! and out came the\ntwo tall men. \"What will you have, sir?\" said they. Peter told them what\nhe wanted, and it was no sooner said than done; for, there on the ground\nbefore him, stood a basketful of all kinds of precious stones; each of\nthem was as large as a hen's egg, and over all of them was spread a\nnice clean white napkin. So Peter took the basket on his arm and went\nback again to the palace.\n\nBut how the King did open his eyes, to be sure, and how he stared!\n\"Now,\" said Peter, \"I should like to marry your daughter, if you\nplease.\"\n\nAt this the King hemmed and hawed again. No, Peter could not marry the\nPrincess yet, for the King had determined that no man should marry his\ndaughter without bringing him a bird all of pure silver that could sing\nwhenever it was wanted, and that more sweetly than a nightingale; for he\nthought that now he should be rid of Peter, at any rate.\n\n\"Nothing easier,\" said Peter, and off he went again.\n\nWhen he had come to the chestnut woods, he uncorked his bottle and told\nthe two tall men what he wanted. No sooner said than done; for there was\na bird all of pure silver. And not only that, but the bird sat in a\nlittle golden tree, and the leaves of the tree were emeralds, and rubies\nhung like cherries from the branches.\n\nThen Peter wrapped this up in his handkerchief and took it to the\npalace. As for the King, he could not look at it or listen to it enough.\n\n\"Now,\" said Peter, \"I should like to marry your daughter, if you\nplease.\"\n\nBut at this the King sang the same tune again. No, Peter could not marry\nhis daughter yet, for the King had determined that the man who was to\nmarry his daughter should first bring him a golden sword, so keen that\nit could cut a feather floating in the air, yet so strong that it could\ncut through an iron bar.\n\n\"Nothing easier,\" said Peter, and this time the men of the bottle\nbrought him such a sword as he asked for, and the hilt was studded all\nover with precious stones, so that it was very handsome indeed. Then\nPeter brought it to the King, and it did as the King would have it--it\ncut through a feather floating in the air; as for the iron bar, it cut\nthrough that as easily as you would bite through a radish.\n\n[Illustration: Peter Eats With the King and Princess]\n\nAnd now it seemed as though there was nothing else to be done but to let\nPeter marry the Princess. So the King asked him in to supper, and they\nall three sat down together, the King and the Princess and Peter. And\nit was a fine feast, I can tell you, for they had both white and red\nwine, besides sausages and cheese, and real white bread and puddings,\nand all manner of good things; for kings and princesses eat and drink of\nthe best.\n\nAs for Peter, he made eyes at the Princess, and the Princess looked down\non her plate and blushed, and Peter thought that he had never seen such\na pretty girl.\n\nAfter a while the King began to question Peter how he came by all these\nfine things--the precious stones, the silver bird, and the golden sword;\nbut no, Peter would not tell. Then the King and the Princess begged and\nbegged him, until, at last, Peter lost his wits and told all about the\nbottle. Then the King said nothing more, and presently, it being nine\no'clock, Peter went to bed. After he had gone the King and the Princess\nput their heads together, and the end of the matter was that the wicked\nKing went to Peter's room and stole the bottle from under the pillow\nwhere he had hidden it, and put one in its place that was as empty as a\nbeer barrel after the soldiers have been in the town; for the King and\nthe Princess thought that it would be a fine thing to have the bottle\nfor themselves.\n\nWhen the next morning had come, and they were all sitting at their\nbreakfast together, the King said, \"Now, Lord Peter, let us see what\nyour bottle will do; give us such and such a kind of wine.\"\n\n\"Nothing easier,\" said Peter. Then he uncorked the bottle, but not so\nmuch as a single dead fly came out of it.\n\n\"But where is the wine?\" said the King.\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Peter.\n\nAt this the King called him hard names and turned him out of the\npalace, neck and heels; so back poor Peter went to his mother with a\nflea in his ear, as the saying is. Now he was poor again, and everybody\ncalled him a dull block, for he rode no great white horse and he wore\nwooden shoes.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said his mother, \"here is another basket of eggs from the\nspeckled hen.\" So Peter set off with these to the market town, as he had\ndone with the others before. When he had come to the great stone at the\nforking of the road, whom should he meet but the same little gentleman\nhe had met the first time. \"Will you strike a bargain?\" said he. Yes,\nPeter would strike a bargain, and gladly. Thereupon the little old man\nbrought out another black bottle.\n\n\"Two men are in this bottle,\" said the little old man; \"when they have\ndone all that you want them to do, say 'brikket-ligg' and they will go\nback again. Will you trade with me?\" Yes, Peter would trade. So Peter\ngave the little man the eggs, and the little man gave Peter the second\nbottle, and they parted very good friends.\n\nAfter a while Peter grew tired. \"Now,\" said he to himself, \"I will ride\na little\"; and so he drew the cork out of the bottle. Pop! pop! out came\ntwo men from the bottle; but this time they were ugly and black, and\neach held a stout stick in his hand. They said not a word, but, without\nmore ado, fell upon Peter and began threshing him as though he was wheat\non the barn floor. \"Stop! stop!\" cried Peter, and he went hopping and\nskipping up and down, and here and there, but it seemed as though the\ntwo ugly black men did not hear him, for the blows fell as thick as\nhail on the roof. At last he gathered his wits together, like a flock of\npigeons, and cried, \"Brikket-ligg! brikket-ligg!\" Then, whisk! pop! they\nwent back into the bottle again, and Peter corked it up, and corked it\ntightly, I can tell you.\n\n[Illustration: Clever Peter and the Unlucky Bottle]\n\nThe next day he started off to the palace once more. Rap! rap! rap! he\nknocked at the door. Was the King at home? Yes, the King was at home;\nwould he come and sit in the parlor?\n\nPresently the King came in, in dressing-gown and slippers. \"What! are\nyou back again?\" said he.\n\n\"Yes; I am back again,\" said Peter.\n\n\"What do you want?\" said the King.\n\n\"I want to marry the Princess,\" said Peter.\n\n\"What have you brought this time?\" said the King.\n\n\"I have brought another bottle,\" said Peter.\n\nThen the King rubbed his hands and was very polite indeed, and asked\nPeter in to breakfast, and Peter went. So they all three sat down\ntogether, the King, the Princess, and Peter.\n\n\"My dear,\" said the King, to the Princess, \"the Lord Peter has brought\nanother bottle with him.\" Thereat the Princess was very polite also.\nWould Lord Peter let them see the bottle? Oh yes! Peter would do that:\nso he drew it out of his pocket and sat it upon the table.\n\nPerhaps they would like to have it opened. Yes, that they would. So\nPeter opened the bottle.\n\nHui! what a hubbub there was! The King hopped about till his slippers\nflew off, his dressing-gown fluttered like great wings, and his crown\nrolled off from his head and across the floor, like a quoit at the fair.\nAs for the Princess, she never danced in all of her life as she danced\nthat morning. They made such a noise that the soldiers of the Royal\nGuard came running in; but the two tall black men spared them no more\nthan the King and the Princess. Then came all of the Lords of the\nCouncil, and they likewise danced to the same music as the rest.\n\n\"Oh, Peter! dear Lord Peter! cork up your men again!\" they all cried.\n\n\"Will you give me back my bottle?\" said Peter.\n\n\"Yes! yes!\" cried the King.\n\n\"Will you marry me?\" said Peter.\n\n\"Yes! yes!\" cried the Princess.\n\nThen Peter said \"brikket-ligg!\" and the two tall men popped back into\nthe bottle again. So the King gave him back his other bottle, and the\nminister was called in and married him to the Princess.\n\nAfter that he lived happily, and when the old King died he became King\nover all of the land. As for the Princess, she was as good a wife as you\never saw, but Peter always kept the bottle near to him--maybe that was\nthe reason.\n\nAh me! if I could only take my eggs to such a\n market and get two such bottles for them!\n What would I do with them? It would\n take too long to tell you.\n\n[Illustration: Clever Peter opens the Unlucky Bottle for the King and\nPrincess.]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Ye Romantic Adventures of Three Tailors. This is a full\npage poem showing the three tailors walking together, the three\napproaching the milk-maids, and the three walking away saddened.]\n\nYE ROMANTIC ADVENTURES OF THREE TAILORS\n\nThree little men went ajogging along--\n Along in the sunshiny weather.\nAnd they laughed and they sang an occasional song\n Which they all of them caroled together.\nAnd the great white clouds floated over the sky\nAnd the day it was warm and the sun it was high.\n\nAs three jolly tailor men all were they\n As you'd find in a dozen of years.\nOne carried the yardstick another the goose\n And the bravest of all bore the shears\nSo they merrily trudged until after awhile\nThe came where three milk-maids sat all on a stile.\n\nThe grass it was green and the flowers were gay,\n And it was the pleasantest weather.\nAnd the milkmaids were pretty as blossoms in May\n As they sat on the stile all together.\nThen they stopped on the high-way those three gallant men\nFor they never had seen as fair lasses as then.\n\nThen up spake the first of the tailor men three\n And the one with the goodliest parts.\n\"We are all of us good men gallant and free\n And have never yet plighted our hearts.\nSo prithee fair maids will you marry us all\nFor our hearts they be great as our bodies be small.\"\n\nThen up spake the first of the three pretty dears\n \"Pray tell what your fortunes may be sir.\"\n\"Oh three loving hearts and a yard goose and shears.\"\n \"Then you've not enough fortune for me sir.\nSo get you along while your boots are still green\nFor richer young men we shall marry I ween.\"\n\nThree little tailor men jogging along--\n Along in the sunshiny weather.\nNo longer they laugh with a jest and a song\n But they walk very sadly together.\nFor when maidens are proud like the milkmaidens cold,\nThe lads they grow sad like the tailors so bold.\n\nHoward Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: FANCY AND FACT. This is an illustrated poem with the\nshepherd and shepherdess sitting in the grass above the poem, and the\ntwo of them sick with their heads wrapped on either side of the poem.]\n\nFANCY AND FACT\n\nO! a shepherd and a shepherdess,\n They dwelt in Arcadee,\nAnd they were dressed in Watteau dress,\n Most charming for to see.\n\nThey sat upon the dewy grass,\n With buds and blossoms set.\nAnd the shepherd played unto the lass,\n Upon a flageolet.\n\nIt seemed to me as though it was\n A very pleasant thing;\nParticularly so because\n The time of year was Spring.\n\nBut, O! the ground was damp, and so,\n At least, I have been told,\nThe shepherd caught the lumbago,\n The shepherdess, a cold.\n\nMy darling Child! the fact is\n That the Poets often sing\nOf those joys which in the practice\n Are another sort of thing.\n\nH. P.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: YE TWO WISHES. This is a full page illustrated poem with\nthe angel and faggot-maker sitting together, the faggot-maker going into\nthe bottle, and the faggot-maker coming out again.]\n\nYE TWO WISHES\n\nAn Angel went a walking out one day, as I've heard said,\nAnd, coming to a faggot-maker, begged a crust of bread\nThe faggot-maker gave a crust and something rather queer\nTo wash it down withall, from out a bottle that stood near.\nThe Angel finished eating; but before he left, said he,\n\"Thou shalt have two wishes granted, for that thou hast given me.\nOne wish for that good drinkable, another for the bread.\"\nThe he left the faggot-maker all amazed at what he'd said.\n\n\"I wonder,\" says the faggot-maker, after he had gone,\n\"I wonder if there's any truth in that same little song!\"\nSo, turning this thing over in his mind, he cast around,\n'Till he saw the empty bottle where it lay upon the ground.\n\"I wish,\" said he, just as a test, \"if what he said is so,\nInto that empty bottle, now, that I may straightway go\"\nNo sooner said that done; for,--_Whisk!_ into the flask he fell,\nWhere he found himself as tightly packed as chicken in the shell.\nIn vain he kicked and twisted, and in vain he howled with pain;\nFor, in spite of all his efforts, he could not get out again.\nSo, seeing how the matter stood, he had to wish once more.\nWhen, out he slipped, as easily as he'd gone in before.\n\nIf we had two wishes, granted by an Angel thus,\nWe would not throw away the good so kindly given us.\nFor first we'd ask for wisdom, which, when we had in store,\nI'm very doubtful if we'd care to ask for anymore.\n\nHoward Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME. This illustrated poem\ndepicts the wise man asking all sorts of people.]\n\nA VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME\n\nA wise man once, of Haarlem town,\nWent wandering up, and wandering down,\n And ever the question asked:\n\n\"If all the world was paper,\n And if all the sea was ink,\nAnd if the trees were bread and cheese,\n What would we do for drink?\"\n\nThen all the folk, both great and small,\n Began to beat their brains,\nBut they could not answer him at all,\n In spite of all their pains.\n\nBut still he wandered here and there,\n This man of great renown,\nAnd still he questioned everywhere,\n The folk of Haarlem town:\n\n\"If all the world was paper,\n And if all the sea was ink,\nAnd if the trees were bread and cheese,\n What would we do for drink?\"\n\nFull thin he grew, as, day by day,\n He toiled with mental strain,\nUntil the wind blew him away,\n And he ne'er was seen again.\n\nAnd now methinks I hear you say,\n\"Was ere a man so foolish, pray,\n Since first the world began?\"\nOh, hush! I'll tell you secretly\nDown East there dwells a man, and he\nIs asking questions constantly,\nThat none can answer, that I see,\n Yet he's a wise-wise man!\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHANS HECKLEMANN'S LUCK\n\nHans Hecklemann had no luck at all. Now and then we hear folks say that\nthey have no luck, but they only mean that their luck is bad and that\nthey are ashamed of it. Everybody but Hans Hecklemann had luck of some\nkind, either good or bad, and, what is more, everybody carries his luck\nabout with him; some carry it in their pocket-books, some carry it in\ntheir hats, some carry it on their finger tips, and some carry it under\ntheir tongues--these are lawyers. Mine is at this moment sitting astride\nof my pen, though I can no more see it than though it was thin air;\nwhether it is good or bad depends entirely as to how _you_ look upon it.\n\nBut Hans Hecklemann had no luck at all. How he lost it nobody knows, but\nit is certain that it was clean gone from him.\n\nHe was as poor as charity, and yet his luck was not bad, for, poor as he\nwas, he always had enough for his wife and his family and himself to\neat. They all of them worked from dawn to nightfall, and yet his luck\nwas not good, for he never laid one penny on top of the other, as the\nsaying is. He had food enough to eat, and clothes enough to wear, so his\nluck was not indifferent. Now, as it was neither good, bad, nor\nindifferent, you see that it could have been no luck at all.\n\nHans Hecklemann's wife was named Catherine. One evening when Hans came\ninto the cottage with just enough money to buy them all bread and not a\ncracked farthing to spare, Catherine spoke to him of this matter.\n\n\"Hans,\" said she, \"you have no luck at all.\"\n\n[Illustration: Hans Hecklemann, Catherine.]\n\n\"No,\" said Hans, \"I have not,\" which was the truth, as I have already\ntold you.\n\n\"What are you going to do about it?\" said Catherine.\n\n\"Nothing at all,\" said Hans.\n\n\"Doing nothing puts no cabbage into the pot,\" said Catherine.\n\n\"It takes none out,\" said Hans.\n\n\"See, Hans,\" said Catherine; \"go to the old wise woman in the wood and\ntalk to her about it; who knows but that she can tell you how and where\nyou lost your luck?\"\n\n\"If I should find my luck it might be bad and not good,\" said Hans.\n\n\"It is worth having a look at,\" said Catherine; \"you can leave it where\nyou find it if it does not please you.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Hans; \"when a man finds his luck he has to take it, whether\nhe likes it or no.\"\n\nSo Hans talked, but he had made up his mind to do as Catherine said, to\ngo and see the old wise woman in the wood. He argued with her, but he\nonly argued with her to let her know how little was her knowledge and\nhow great was his. After he had clearly shown her how poor her advice\nwas, he took it. Many other men are like Hans Hecklemann.\n\nSo, early the next morning, Hans jogged along to the old wise woman's\ncottage, while the day was sweet and fresh. The hedgerows were covered\nall over with white blossoms, as though it was with so much snow; the\ncuckoo was singing among the budding branches, and the little flowers\nwere looking up everywhere with their bright faces. \"Surely,\" said Hans\nto himself, \"if I find my luck on this day, it must be good and not\nill.\"\n\nSo he came to the little red cottage at the edge of the wood wherein\nlived the wise woman who knew many things and one. Hans scraped his feet\non the stones until they were clean, and then he knocked at the door.\n\n\"Come in,\" said the old wise woman.\n\nShe was as strange an old woman as one could hope to see in a lifetime.\nHer nose bent down to meet her chin, and her chin bent up to reach her\nnose; her face was gray with great age, and her hair was as white as\nsnow. She wore a long red cloak over her shoulders, and a great black\ncat sat on the back of her chair.\n\n\"What do you want, Son Hans?\" said she.\n\n\"I want to find my luck, mother,\" said Hans.\n\n\"Where did you lose it, Son Hans?\" said she.\n\n\"That I do not know, mother,\" said Hans.\n\nThen the old wise woman said \"Hum-m-m!\" in a very thoughtful voice, and\nHans said nothing at all.\n\nAfter a while she spoke again. \"Have you enough to eat?\" said she.\n\n\"Oh yes!\" said Hans.\n\n\"Have you enough to drink?\" said she.\n\n\"Plenty of water, enough of milk, but no beer,\" said Hans.\n\n\"Have you enough clothes to cover you?\" said she.\n\n\"Oh yes!\" said Hans.\n\n\"Are you warm enough in winter?\" said she.\n\n\"Oh yes!\" said Hans.\n\n\"Then you had better leave well enough alone,\" said she, \"for luck can\ngive you nothing more.\"\n\n\"But it might put money into my pocket,\" said Hans.\n\n\"And it might take away the good things that you already have,\" said\nshe.\n\n\"All the same, I should like to find it again,\" said Hans; \"if I could\nonly lay my hands on it I might make good out of it, even if it is bad.\"\n\n\"I doubt that,\" said the old wise woman. Nevertheless, she saw that\nHans was set in his own way, and that he only talked stiffness into his\nstubbornness. So she arose from her chair with much groaning, for her\njoints were stiffened with age, and limping to a closet in the wall she\nbrought a book thence. Then she ran her finger down one page and up\nanother, until she had found that which she sought. When she had found\nit she spoke:\n\n[Illustration: Hans Hecklemann goes to the cottage of the old Wise Woman\nin search of his Luck.]\n\n\"Son Hans, you lost your luck three years ago when you were coming from\nthe fair at Kneitlingen. You sat down on the overturned cross that lies\nwhere three roads meet, and it fell out of your pocket along with a\nsilver shilling. Now, Hans, your luck was evil, therefore it stuck to\nthe good sign, as all evil things of that kind must, like a fly to\nbutter. Also, I tell you this: when an evil manikin such as this touches\nthe sign of the good cross, he becomes visible to the eyes of everybody\nwho chooses to look upon him. Therefore go to the stone cross and you\nwill find your luck running this way and that, but never able to get\naway from it.\" So saying, the old woman shut her book again. Then she\narose from her chair and went once more to the closet in the wall. This\ntime she took from it a little sack woven of black goat's hair. \"When\nyou have found your luck again, put it into this little bag,\" said she;\n\"once in it, no evil imp will be able to get out again so long as you\nkeep the strings tied. And now good-bye!\"\n\n[Illustration: Hans Hecklemann and the Old Wise-Woman]\n\nThen Hans slipped the little sack into his pocket, and set out for the\noverturned stone cross where the three roads meet. When he had come to\nthe place, he looked here and there, and this way and that, but for a\nlong time he could see nothing at all. At last, after much looking, he\nbeheld a little black beetle running hither and thither on the stone. \"I\nwonder,\" said Hans, \"if this can be my luck.\"\n\nSo saying, he caught the little beetle betwixt his finger and thumb, but\nvery carefully, for he could not tell whether or not it might bite him.\nThe beetle stuck to the stone as though it had been glued there, but, at\nlast, Hans pulled it away; then--lo! it was not a beetle that he held in\nhis hand, but a little manikin about as long as your thumb and as black\nas ink. Hans Hecklemann was so frightened that he nearly dropped it, for\nit kicked and screeched and rolled its red eyes in a very ugly way as he\nheld it. However, he popped it into the little sack and pulled the\nstrings tight, and there it was, safe and sound.\n\nThat is what Hans Hecklemann's luck was like.\n\nSo Hans having his luck secure in the little sack began to bargain with\nit. \"What will you do for me if I let you out?\" said he.\n\n\"Nothing at all,\" snarled his luck.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Hans, \"we will see about that.\"\n\nSo he carried it home with him, and threw sack and all into a nasty pot\nwhere Catherine cast the scrapings of the dishes--the fat and what not\nthat she boiled down into soap now and then. There he left his luck to\nstay until the next day, and then he went to it again. \"What will you do\nfor me if I will let you out now?\" said he.\n\n\"Nothing at all,\" snarled his luck.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Hans, \"we will see about that.\" So he let him stay\nwhere he was for another day. And so the fiddle played; every day Hans\nHecklemann went to his luck and asked it what it would give him if he\nwould let it out, and every day his luck said nothing; and so a week\nor more passed.\n\n[Illustration: Hans finds his Luck]\n\nAt last Hans's luck gave in.\n\n\"See, Hans,\" it said one morning; \"if you will let me out of this nasty\npickle I will give you a thousand thalers.\"\n\n\"Ah no!\" said Hans. \"Thalers are only thalers, as my good father used to\nsay. They melt away like snow, and then nothing is left of them. I will\ntrust no such luck as that!\"\n\n\"I will give you two thousand thalers,\" said his luck.\n\n[Illustration: Hans Hecklemann ploughs for Gold]\n\n\"Ah no!\" said Hans; \"two thousand thalers are only twice one thousand\nthalers. I will trust no such luck as that, either!\"\n\n\"Then what will you take to let me out, Hans Hecklemann?\" said his luck.\n\n\"Look,\" said Hans; \"yonder stands my old plough. Now, if you will give\nme to find a golden noble at the end of every furrow that I strike with\nit I will let you out. If not--why, then, into the soap you go.\"\n\n\"Done!\" said Hans's luck.\n\n\"Done!\" said Hans.\n\nThen he opened the mouth of the sack, and--puff! went his luck, like\nwind out of a bag, and--pop! it slipped into his breeches pocket.\n\nHe never saw it again with his mortal eyes, but it stayed near to him, I\ncan tell you. \"Ha! ha! ha!\" it laughed in his pocket, \"you have made an\nill bargain, Hans, I can tell you!\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" said Hans, \"I am contented.\"\n\nHans Hecklemann did not tarry long in trying the new luck of his old\nplough, as you may easily guess. Off he went like the wind and borrowed\nFritz Friedleburg's old gray horse. Then he fastened the horse to the\nplough and struck the first furrow. When he had come to the end of\nit--pop! up shot a golden noble, as though some one had spun it up from\nthe ground with his finger and thumb. Hans picked it up, and looked at\nit and looked at it as though he would swallow it with his eyes. Then he\nseized the handle of the plough and struck another furrow--pop! up went\nanother golden noble, and Hans gathered it as he had done the other one.\nSo he went on all of that day, striking furrows and gathering golden\nnobles until all of his pockets were as full as they could hold. When it\nwas too dark to see to plough any more he took Fritz Friedleburg's horse\nback home again, and then he went home himself.\n\nAll of his neighbors thought that he was crazy, for it was nothing but\nplough, plough, plough, morning and noon and night, spring and summer\nand autumn. Frost and darkness alone kept him from his labor. His stable\nwas full of fine horses, and he worked them until they dropped in the\nfurrows that he was always ploughing.\n\n\"Yes; Hans is crazy,\" they all said; but when Hans heard them talk in\nthis way he only winked to himself and went on with his ploughing, for\nhe felt that he knew this from that.\n\nBut ill luck danced in his pocket with the golden nobles, and from the\nday that he closed his bargain with it he was an unhappy man. He had no\ncomfort of living, for it was nothing but work, work, work. He was up\nand away at his ploughing at the first dawn of day, and he never came\nhome till night had fallen; so, though he ploughed golden nobles, he did\nnot turn up happiness in the furrows along with them. After he had eaten\nhis supper he would sit silently behind the stove, warming his fingers\nand thinking of some quicker way of doing his ploughing. For it seemed\nto him that the gold-pieces came in very slowly, and he blamed himself\nthat he had not asked his luck to let him turn up three at a time\ninstead of only one at the end of each furrow; so he had no comfort in\nhis gathering wealth. As day followed day he grew thin and haggard and\nworn, but seven boxes of bright new gold-pieces lay hidden in the\ncellar, of which nobody knew but himself. He told no one how rich he was\ngrowing, and all of his neighbors wondered why he did not starve to\ndeath.\n\nSo you see the ill luck in his breeches pocket had the best of the\nbargain, after all.\n\nAfter Hans had gone the way of all men, his heirs found the chests full\nof gold in the cellar, and therewith they bought fat lands and became\nnoblemen and gentlemen; but that made Hans's luck none the better.\n\nFrom all this I gather:\n\nThat few folks can turn ill luck into good luck.\nThat the best thing for one to do is to let well enough alone.\nThat one cannot get happiness as one does cabbages--with\n money.\nThat happiness is the only good luck, after all!\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Ye Song of ye Rajah & ye Fly. This illustrated poem\ndepicts the Rajah in the various stages of the poem.]\n\nYE SONG OF YE RAJAH & YE FLY\n\nGreat and rich beyond comparing\nWas the Rajah Rhama Jaring,\nAs he went to take an airing\n With his Court one summer day.\nAll were gay with green and yellow;\nAnd a little darky fellow\nBore a monstrous fun umbrella,\n For to shade him on the way.\n\nNow a certain fly, unwitting\nOf this grandeur, came a-flitting\nTo the Royal nose, and sitting\n Twirled his legs upon the same.\nThen the Rajah's eyes blazed fire\nAt the insult, and the ire\nIn his heart boiled high and higher.\n Slap! he struck, but missed his aim.\n\nThen all trembled at this passion,\nFor he spoke in furious fashion.\n\"Saw ye how yon fly did dash on\n To our august nose!\" he said.\n\"Now let all within our nation\nWage a war without cessation\nWar of b-lood, ex-ter-mi-nation,\n Until every fly is dead!!!!\"\n\nNow the while this war was raging,\nThat the rajah was a-waging,\nThings that should have been engaging\n His attention went to pot.\nSo he came at last to begging,\nThough the flies continued plaguing.\nFor it's not so easy pegging\n Out vexation thus, I wot.\n\nFrom this you may see what all have to expect,\nWho, fighting small troubles, great duties neglect.\n\nH. Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Pride in Distress. This full page illustrated poem shows\nthe mistress walking along with others watching, until she steps into a\nsmall pool and scares some geese aloft.]\n\nPRIDE IN DISTRESS\n\nMistress Polly Poppenjay\nWent to take a walk one day.\nOn that morning she was dressed\nIn her very Sunday best;\nFeathers, frills and ribbons gay,--\nProud was Mistress Poppenjay.\n\nMistress Polly Poppenjay\nSpoke to no one on her way;\nPassed acquaintances aside;\nHeld her head aloft with pride;\nDid not see a puddle lay\nIn front of Mistress Poppenjay.\n\nMistress Polly Poppenjay\nHarked to naught the folk could say.\nLoud they cried, \"Beware the puddle!\"\n_Plump!_ She stepped into the middle.\nAnd a pretty plight straightway\nWas poor Mistress Poppenjay.\n\nMistress Polly Poppenjay;\nFrom your pickle others may\nLearn to curb their pride a little;--\nLearn to exercise their wit, till\nThey are sure no puddles may\nLie in front, Miss Poppenjay.\n\nHoward Pyle.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Profession & Practice. This full page poem has the saint\nat the door of a thin man with empty purse, then at the door with the\nman well fed and full purse, and finally the saint alone scratching his\nhead.]\n\nPROFESSION & PRACTICE\n\nOnce, when Saint Swithin chanced to be\nA-wandering in Hungary,\nHe, being hungered, cast around\nTo see if something might be found\nTo stay his stomach.\n\n Near by stood\nA little house, beside a wood,\nWhere dwelt a worthy man, but poor.\nThither he went, knocked at the door.\nThe good man came. Saint Swithin said,\n\"I prithee give a crust of bread\nTo ease my hunger.\"\n\n \"Brother,\" quoth\nThe good man, \"I am sadly loath\nTo say\" (here tears stood on his cheeks)\n\"I've had no bread for weeks and weeks,\nSave what I've begged. Had I one bit,\nI'd gladly give thee half of it.\"\n \"How,\" said the Saint, \"can one so good\nGo lacking of his daily food,\nGo lacking means to aid the poor,\nYet weep to turn them from his door?\nHere--take this purse. Mark what I say:\nThou'lt find within it every day\nTwo golden coins.\"\n\n Years passed. Once more\nSaint Swithin knocked upon the door.\nThe good man came. He'd grown fat\nAnd lusty, like a well-fed cat.\nThereat the Saint was pleased. Quoth he,\n\"Give me a crust for charity.\"\n \"A crust, thou say'st? Hut, tut! How now?\nWouldst come a-begging here? I trow,\nThou lazy rascal, thou couldst find\nEnough of work hadst thou a mind!\n'Tis thine own fault if thou art poor.\nBegone, sir!\" _Bang!_--he shut the door.\n\nSaint Swithin slowly scratched his head.\n\"Well, I _am_--humph!--just so,\" he said.\n\"How very different the fact is\n'Twixt the profession and the practice!\"\n\nHP\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A Tale of a Tub. This full page illustrated poem shows\nthe man in the tub on the sea, dreaming of the roasted pig.]\n\nA TALE OF A TUB\n\n 1\n\nYou may bring to mind I've sung you a song,\n Of a man of Haarlem town.\nI'll sing of another,--'t will not take long--,\n Of equally great renown.\n\n 2\n\n\"I've read,\" said he, \"there's a land afar,\n O'er the boundless rolling sea,\nWhere fat little pigs ready roasted are:\n Now, that is the land for me.\n\n 3\n\nWhere tarts may be plucked from the wild tart tree,\n And puddings like pumpkins grow,\nWhere candies, like pebbles, lie by the sea,--\n Now, thither I'll straightway go.\"\n\n 4\n\nNow, what do you think I've heard it said\n Was his boat, his oar, his sail?\nA tub, a spoon, and a handkerchief red,\n For to breast both calm and gale.\n\n 5\n\nSo he sailed away, for a livelong day;\n And the sun was warm and mild,\nAnd the small waves laughed as they seemed to play,\n And the sea-gulls clamored wild.\n\n 6\n\nSo he sailed away, for a livelong day;\n Till the wind began to roar,\nAnd the waves rose high, and, to briefly say,\n He never was heard of more.\n\nH. PYLE.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nFARMER GRIGG'S BOGGART\n\n\nDid you ever hear of a boggart? No! Then I will tell you. A boggart is a\nsmall imp that lives in a man's house, unseen by any one, doing a little\ngood and much harm. This imp was called a boggart in the old times, now\nwe call such by other names--ill-temper, meanness, uncharitableness, and\nthe like. Even now, they say, you may find a boggart in some houses.\nThere is no placing reliance on a boggart; sometimes he may seem to be\nof service to his master, but there is no telling when he may do him an\nill turn.\n\nRap! tap! tap! came a knock at the door.\n\nThe wind was piping Jack Frost's, for the time was winter, and it blew\nfrom the north. The snow lay all over the ground, like soft feathers,\nand the hay-ricks looked as though each one wore a dunce-cap, like the\ndull boy in Dame Week's school over by the green. The icicles hung down\nby the thatch, and the little birds crouched shivering in the bare and\nleafless hedge-rows.\n\nBut inside the farm-house all was warm and pleasant; the great logs\nsnapped and crackled and roared in the wide chimney-place, throwing red\nlight up and down the walls, so that the dark night only looked in\nthrough the latticed windows. Farmer Griggs sat warming his knees at\nthe blaze, smoking his pipe in great comfort, while his crock of ale,\nwith three roasted crab-apples bobbing about within it, warmed in the\nhot ashes beside the blazing logs, simmering pleasantly in the ruddy\nheat.\n\n[Illustration: Farmer Georgie Griggs.]\n\nDame Griggs's spinning-wheel went humm-m-m! hum-m-m-m-m! like a whole\nhiveful of bees, the cat purred in the warmth, the dog basked in the\nblaze, and little red sparks danced about the dishes standing all along\nin a row on the dresser.\n\nBut, rap! tap! tap! came a knock at the door.\n\nThen Farmer Griggs took his pipe from out his mouth. \"Did'ee hear un,\ndame?\" said he. \"Zooks now, there be somebody outside the door.\"\n\n\"Well then, thou gert oaf, why don't 'ee let un in?\" said Dame Griggs.\n\n\"Look'ee now,\" said Georgie Griggs to himself, \"sure women be of quicker\nwits than men!\" So he opened the door. Whoo! In rushed the wind, and the\nblaze of the logs made as though it would leap up the chimney for fear.\n\n\"Will you let me in out of the cold, Georgie Griggs?\" piped a small\nvoice. Farmer Griggs looked down and saw a little wight no taller than\nhis knee standing in the snow on the door-step. His face was as brown as\na berry, and he looked up at the farmer with great eyes as bright as\nthose of a toad. The red light of the fire shone on him, and Georgie\nGriggs saw that his feet were bare and that he wore no coat.\n\n\"Who be 'ee, little man?\" said Farmer Griggs.\n\n\"I'm a boggart, at your service.\"\n\n\"Na, na,\" said Farmer Griggs, \"thee's at na sarvice o'mine. I'll give na\nroom in my house to the likes o' thee\"; and he made as though he would\nhave shut the door in the face of the little urchin.\n\n\"But listen, Georgie Griggs,\" said the boggart; \"I will do you a good\nservice.\"\n\nThen Farmer Griggs did listen. \"What sarvice will'ee do me, then?\" said\nhe.\n\n[Illustration: Dame Mally Griggs.]\n\n\"I'll tend your fires,\" said the manikin, \"I'll bake your bread, I'll\nwash your dishes, I'll scour your pans, I'll scrub your floors, I'll\nbrew your beer, I'll roast your meat, I'll boil your water, I'll stuff\nyour sausages, I'll skim your milk, I'll make your butter, I'll press\nyour cheese, I'll pluck your geese, I'll spin your thread, I'll knit\nyour stockings, I'll mend your clothes, I'll patch your shoes--I'll be\neverywhere and do all of the work in your house, so that you will not\nhave to give so much as a groat for wages to cook, scullion, or serving\nwench!\"\n\n[Illustration: Farmer Griggs and the Boggart.]\n\nThen Farmer Griggs listened a little longer without shutting the door,\nand so did Dame Griggs. \"What's thy name, boggart?\" said he.\n\n\"Hardfist,\" said the boggart; and he came a little farther in at the\ndoor, for he saw that Farmer Griggs had a mind to let him in all of the\nway.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Georgie Griggs, scratching his head doubtfully;\n\"it's an ill thing, lettin' mischief intull the house! Thee's better\noutside, I doubt.\"\n\n\"Shut the door, Georgie!\" called out Dame Griggs; \"thou'rt lettin' th'\ncold air intull th' room.\"\n\nThen Farmer Griggs shut the door, but the boggart was on the inside.\n\nThis is the way in which the boggart came into Farmer Griggs's house,\nand there he was to stay, for it is no such easy matter getting rid of\nthe likes of him when we once let him in, I can tell you.\n\nThe boggart came straightway over to the warm fire, and the dog\ngrowled--\"chur-r-r-r!\"--and showed his teeth, and the cat spit anger and\njumped up on the dresser, with her back arched and her tail on end. But\nthe boggart cared never a whit for this, but laid himself comfortably\ndown among the warm ashes.\n\nNow imps, like this boggart, can only be seen as the frost is seen--when\nit is cold. So as he grew warmer and warmer, he grew thin, like a\njelly-fish, and at last, when he had become thoroughly warmed through,\nFarmer Griggs and the dame could see him no more than though he was thin\nair. But he was in the house, and he stayed there, I can tell you. For a\ntime everything went as smooth as cream; all of the work of the house\nwas done as though by magic, for the boggart did all that he had\npromised; he made the fires, he baked the bread, he washed the dishes,\nhe scoured the pans, he scrubbed the floors, he brewed the beer, he\nroasted the meat, he stuffed the sausages, he skimmed the milk, he made\nthe butter, he pressed the cheese, he plucked the geese, he spun the\nthread, he knit the stockings, he mended the clothes, he patched the\nshoes--he was everywhere and did all of the work of the house. When\nFarmer Griggs saw these things done, and so deftly, he rubbed his hands\nand chuckled to himself. He sent cook and scullion and serving maid\na-packing, there being nothing for them to do, for, as I said, all of\nthese things were done as smooth as cream. But after a time, and when\nthe boggart's place had become easy to him, like an old shoe, mischief\nbegan to play the pipes and he began to show his pranks. The first thing\nthat he did was to scrape the farmer's butter, so that it was light of\nweight, and all of the people of the market town hooted at him for\ngiving less than he sold. Then he skimmed the children's milk, so that\nthey had nothing but poor watery stuff to pour over their pottage of a\nmorning. He took the milk from the cat, so that it was like to starve;\nhe even pilfered the bones and scrapings of the dishes from the poor\nhouse-dog, as though he was a very magpie. He blew out the rush-lights,\nso that they were all in the dark after sunset; he made the fires burn\ncold, and played a hundred and forty other impish tricks of the like\nkind. As for the poor little children, they were always crying and\ncomplaining that the boggart did this and the boggart did that; that he\nscraped the butter from their bread and pulled the coverlids off of them\nat night.\n\nStill the boggart did his work well, and so Farmer Griggs put up with\nhis evil ways as long as he could. At last the time came when he could\nbear it no longer. \"Look'ee, now, Mally,\" said he to his dame, \"it's all\nalong o' thee that this trouble's coome intull th' house. I'd never let\nthe boggart in with my own good-will!\" So spoke Farmer Griggs, for even\nnowadays there are men here and there who will now and then lay their\nown bundle of faults on their wives' shoulders.\n\n\"I bade thee do naught but shut the door!\" answered Dame Griggs.\n\n\"Ay; it's easy enough to shut the door after the trouble's come in!\"\n\n\"Then turn it out again!\"\n\n\"Turn un out! Odds bodkins, that's woman's wit! Dost'ee not see that\nthere's no turnin' o' un out? Na, na; there's naught to do but to go out\nourselves!\"\n\nYes; there was nothing else to be done. Go they must, if they would be\nrid of the boggart. So one fine bright day in the blessed spring-time,\nthey packed all of their belongings into a great wain, or cart, and set\noff to find a new home.\n\nOft they trudged, just as you see in the picture, the three little\nchildren seated high up in the wain, and the farmer and the dame\nplodding ahead.\n\n[Illustration: THE DEPARTURE.]\n\n[Illustration: Farmer Griggs and the Wise Man.]\n\nNow, as they came to the bottom of Shooter's Hill, whom should they meet\nbut their good neighbor and gossip, Jerry Jinks. \"So, Georgie,\" said he,\n\"you're leavin' th' ould house at last?\"\n\n\"High, Jerry,\" quoth Georgie. \"We were forced tull it, neighbor, for\nthat black boggart torments us so that there was no rest night or day\nfor it. The poor bairns' stomachs are empty, and the good dame's nigh\ndead for it. So off we go, like th' field-fares in the autumn--we're\nflittin', we're flittin'!\"\n\nNow on the wain was a tall, upright churn; as soon as Georgie had ended\nhis speech, the lid of the churn began to clipper-clapper, and who\nshould speak out of it but the boggart himself. \"Ay, Jerry!\" said he,\n\"we're a flittin', we're a flittin', man! Good-day to ye, neighbor,\ngood-day to ye! Come and see us soon time!\"\n\n\"High!\" cried Georgie Griggs, \"art thou there, thou black imp? Dang un!\nWe'll all go back tull th' old house, for sure it's better to bear\ntrouble there than in a new place.\"\n\nSo back they went again--boggart and all.\n\nBy this you may see, my dear, if you warm an imp by your fire, he will\nsoon turn the whole house topsy-turvy. Likewise, one cannot get rid of a\nboggart by going from here to there, for it is sure to be in the cart\nwith the household things.\n\nBut how did Georgie Griggs get rid of his boggart? That I will tell you.\n\nHe went to Father Grimes, the wise man, who lived on in a little house\non the moor. \"Father Grimes,\" said he, \"how shall I get rid of my\nboggart?\"\n\nThen Father Grimes told him to take this and that, and to do thus and so\nwith them, and see what followed. So Farmer Griggs went to Hugh the\ntailor's, and told him to make a pretty red coat and a neat pair of blue\nbreeches. Then he went to William the hatter's, and bade him to make a\nnice little velvet cap with a bell at the top of it. Then he went to\nThomas the shoemaker's, and bade him to make a fine little pair of\nshoes. So they all did as he told them, and after these things were\nmade he took them home with him. He laid them on a warm spot on the\nhearth where the boggart used to come to sleep at night. Then he and his\ndame hid in the closet to see what would follow.\n\nPresently came the boggart, whisking here and dancing there, though\nneither the farmer nor the dame could see him any more than though he\nhad been a puff of wind.\n\n\"Heigh-ho!\" cried the boggart, \"these be fine things for sure.\" So\nsaying, he tried the hat upon his head, and it fitted exactly. Then he\ntried the coat on his shoulders, and it fitted like wax. Then he tried\nthe breeches on his legs, and they fitted as though they grew there.\nThen he tried the shoes on his feet, and there never was such a fit. So\nhe was clad in all his new clothes from top to toe, whereupon he began\ndancing until he made the ashes on the hearth spin around with him as\nthough they had gone mad, and, as he danced, he sang:\n\n\"Cap for the head, alas poor head!\n Coat for the back, alas poor back!\n Breeks for the legs, alas poor legs!\n Shoen for the feet, alas poor feet!\n If these be mine, mine cannot be\n The house of honest man, Georgie!\"\n\nSo he went singing and dancing, and skipping and leaping, out of the\nhouse and away. As for Georgie Griggs and his dame, they never heard a\nsqueak from him afterwards.\n\nThus it was that Farmer Griggs got rid of his boggart. All I can say is,\nthat if I could get rid of mine as easily (for I have one in my own\nhouse), I would make him a suit of clothes of the finest silks and\nsatins, and would hang a bell of pure silver on the point of his cap.\nBut, alackaday! there are no more wise men left to us, like good Father\nGrimes, to tell one an easy way to get rid of one's boggart.\n\n[Illustration: The Boggart Rejoices]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: YE STORY OF A BLUE CHINA PLATE. This illustrated page\ndepicts the father seeing the man sing to his daughter, the father\nchasing them with a whip, and then the two flying away from his as\nbirds.]\n\nYE STORY OF A BLUE CHINA PLATE.\n\n There was a Cochin Chinaman,\n Whose name it was Ah-Lee\n And the same was just as fine a man\n As you could wish to see,\n For he was rich and strong,\n And his queue was extra long,\nAnd he lived on rice and fish and chiccory.\n\n Which he had a lovely daughter,\n And her name was Mai-Ri-An,\n And the youthful Wang who sought her\n Hand was but a poor young man;\n So her haughty father said,\n \"You shall never, never wed\nSuch a pauper as this penniless young man!\"\n\n So the daughter and her lover,\n They eloped one summer day,\n Which Ah-Lee he did discover,\n And pursued without delay;\n But the Goddess Loo, I've heard,\n Changed each lover to a bird,\nAnd from the bad Ah-Lee they flew away.\n\n Ah me! Ah-Lee; the chance is,\n That we all of us may know\n Of unpleasant circumstances\n We would like to stay, but oh!\n The inevitable things\n Will take unto them wings,\nAnd will fly where we may never hope to go.\n I would further like to state,\n That the tale which I relate,\n You can see on any plate\nThat was made in Cochin China years ago.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Moral Blindness. This illustrated poem depicts the two\nwoman fighting, people plugging their ears near the goose, and running\naway from the goat.]\n\nMORAL BLINDNESS\n\nThere was an old woman, as I've heard say,\n Who owned but a single goose.\nAnd the dame lived over toward Truxton way,\n And the animal ran at loose.\n It cackled up and it cackled down,\n Disturbing the peace of all the town:\n Gentle and simple, knight and clown,\n From the dawn to the close of the day.\n\nAnother old woman, of not much note,\n Lived over toward Truxton way,\nWho owned a goat with a shaggy black coat,\n As I've heard the neighbours say.\n And it was the fear of one and all;\n Butting the great, butting the small,--\n No matter whom,--who happened to fall\n In the way of this evil goat.\n\nSaid the first old woman, \"This ugly goat\n Should never thus run at loose.\"\nSaid the second, \"I wish they'd cut the throat\n Of that noisy cackling goose.\"\n And so it happened when e'er that they\n Would meet each other upon the way\n They'd bicker and hicker the livelong day\n In the key of a scolding note.\n\nBut all the neighbours, great and small,\n Complained of both with grievous tone.\nFrom which I gather that we all\n See other's faults and not our own.\n\nH. PYLE\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: OVERCONFIDENCE. This illustrated poem shows the people\ngazing upon the peacock, and later running away covering their ears.]\n\nOVERCONFIDENCE\n\nA peacock sat on ye garden wall\n(See picture here to ye right),\nAn ye folk came crowding-great and small\nFor it chanced that none in ye town at all\n Had ever seen such a sight\nIf you'd have been there perhaps you'd have heard\nYe folk talk thus, as they looked at ye bird:\n\n \"O crickety!--Law!--\n O jimmeny me!--\n I never yet saw!--\n Who ever did see\nSuch a beautiful sight in the world before,\nSince ye animals marched from ye old ark door?\n O! Look at ye spots\n In his tail! And ye lots\nOf green and of blue in his beautiful wings!\nI'd give a new shilling to know if he sings!\"\n\nYe peacock says, \"Surely, they'll greatly rejoice\nTo hear but a touch of my delicate voice.\"\n (_Sings._)\n\n \"O dear! O dear!--\n O stop it!--O do!--\n We never did hear\n Such a hullballoo!\n'Tis worse than ye noise that ye carpenters make\nWhen they sharpen their saws!--Now, for charity's sake,\n Give over this squalling,\n And catermawalling!\"\nCried all ye good people who chanced to be near;\nEach thrusting a finger-tip into each ear.\n\n You see ye poor dunce had attempted to shine\n In a way that was out of his natural line.\n\nH. Pyle.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: THE FORCE OF NEED. This page has the poem on one side,\nwith the lady gazing up into the tree with the robin, and the lady warm\nin a house and robin outside in the snow at the bottom of the page.]\n\nTHE FORCE OF NEED\n\n\"Hey, Robin! ho, Robin!\n Singing on the tree,\nI will give you white bread,\n If you will come to me.\"\n\n\"Oh! the little breeze is singing\n To the nodding dairies white,\nAnd the tender grass is springing,\n And the sun is warm and bright;\nAnd my little mate is waiting\n In the budding hedge for me;\nSo, on the whole, I'll not accept\n Your kindly courtesy.\"\n\n\"Hey, Robin! ho, Robin!\n Now the north winds blow\nWherefore do you come here,\n In the ice and snow?\"\n\n\"The wind is raw, the flowers are dead,\n The frost is on the thorn,\nSo I'll gladly take a crust of bread,\n And come where it is warm.\"\n\nOh, Children! little Children!\n Have _you_ ever chanced to see\nOne beg for crust that sneered at crumb\n In bright prosperity?\n\nHP\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE BIRD IN THE LINDEN TREE\n\n\nOnce there was a prince, and his name was John. One day his father said\nto him, \"See, John; I am growing old, and after a while the time will\ncome when I must go the way of everybody else. Now I would like to see\nyou married before I leave you.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Prince, for he always answered the King in seemly\nfashion; \"and who shall it be?\"\n\n\"Why not the Princess of the White Mountain?\" said the old King.\n\n\"Why not, indeed?\" said the young Prince, \"only she is too short.\"\n\n\"Why not the Princess of the Blue Mountain?\" said the old King.\n\n\"Why not, indeed?\" said the young Prince, \"only she is too tall.\"\n\n\"Why not the Princess of the Red Mountain?\" said the old King.\n\n\"Why not, indeed?\" said the young Prince, \"only she is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then whom will you have?\" said the old King.\n\n\"That I do not know,\" said the young Prince, \"only this: that her brow\nshall be as white as milk, and her cheeks shall be as red as blood, and\nher eyes shall be as blue as the skies, and her hair shall be like spun\ngold.\"\n\n\"Then go and find her!\" said the old King, in a huff, for his temper was\nas short as chopped flax. \"And don't come back again till you've found\nher!\" he bawled after the Prince as he went out to the door.\n\nSo the Prince went out into the wide world to find such a maiden as he\nspoke of--whose brow was as white as milk, whose cheeks were as red as\nblood, whose eyes were as blue as the skies, and whose hair was like\nspun gold--and he would have to travel a long distance to find such a\none nowadays, would he not?\n\nSo off he went, tramp! tramp! tramp! till his shoes were dusty and his\nclothes were gray. Nothing was in his wallet but a lump of brown bread\nand a cold sausage, for he had gone out into the world in haste, as many\na one has done before and since his day.\n\nSo he went along, tramp! tramp! tramp! and by-and-by he came to a place\nwhere three roads met, and there sat an old woman.\n\n\"Hui! hui! but I am hungry!\" said the old woman.\n\nNow the Prince was a good-hearted fellow, so he said to the old woman,\n\"It is little I have, but such as it is you are welcome to it.\"\nThereupon he gave the old woman the lump of brown bread and the cold\nsausage that was in his wallet, and the old woman ate it up at a bite.\n\n\"Hui! hui! but I am cold!\" said she.\n\n\"It is little that I have, but such as it is you are welcome to it,\"\nsaid the Prince, and he gave the old woman the dusty coat off his back.\nAfter that he had nothing more to give her.\n\n[Illustration: Ye King Prince John]\n\n\"One does not give something for nothing,\" said the old woman, so she\nbegan fumbling about in her pocket until she found an old rusty key. And\nthe best part of the key was, that whenever one looked through the ring\nof it, one saw everything just as it really was and not as it seemed to\nbe.\n\nWho would not give his dinner and the coat off his back for such a key?\n\nAfter that the Prince stepped out again, right foot foremost, tramp!\ntramp! tramp! until evening had come, and he felt as hungry as one is\nlike to do when one goes without one's dinner. At last he came to a dark\nforest, and to a gray castle that stood just in the middle of it. This\ncastle belonged to a great, ugly troll, though the Prince knew nothing\nof that.\n\n\"Now I shall have something to eat,\" said he, and he opened the door of\nthe castle and went in.\n\nOnly one person was within, and that was a maiden; but she was as black\nfrom head to foot as Fritz the charcoal burner. The Prince had never\nseen the like of her in all of his life before, so he drew the rusty key\nout of his pocket and took a peep at her through the ring of it, to see\nwhat manner of body she really was.\n\nThen he saw that she was no longer black and ugly, but as beautiful as a\nripe apple; for her forehead was as white as milk, her cheeks were as\nred as blood, her eyes were as blue as the skies, and her hair was like\nspun gold. Moreover, any one could see with half an eye that she was a\nreal princess, for she wore a gold crown on her head, such as real\nprincesses are never without.\n\n\"You are the one whom I seek,\" said the Prince.\n\n\"Yes, I am the one you seek,\" said she.\n\n\"And how can I free you from your enchantment?\" said he.\n\n\"If you will abide here three nights, and will bear all that shall\nhappen to you without a word, then I shall be free,\" said she.\n\n\"Oh yes, I will do that,\" said the Prince.\n\nAfter that the black Princess set a good supper before him, and the\nPrince ate like three men.\n\nBy-and-by there was a huge noise, and the door opened and in came an\nugly troll with a head as big as a bucket. He rolled his great saucer\neyes around till he saw the Prince where he sat beside the fire.\n\n[Illustration: The Prince aids the Old Woman]\n\n\"Black cats and spotted toads!\" bellowed he, \"what are you doing here?\"\n\nBut to this the Prince answered never a word.\n\n\"We shall see whether or no there is sound in you!\" roared the troll.\nThereupon he caught the Prince by the hair and dragged him out into the\nmiddle of the room. Then he snatched up a great cudgel and began beating\nthe Prince as though he were a sack of barley-flour; but the Prince said\nnever a word. At last the troll had to give over beating him, for the\nmorning had come and the troll was afraid the sun would catch him; and\nif that were to happen, he would swell up and burst with a great noise.\n\"We shall see whether you will come again!\" said he, and then he left\nthe Prince lying on the floor more dead than alive; and if anybody was\nsore in all of the world, the Prince was that man.\n\nAfter the troll had left the house, the black Princess came and wept\nover the Prince; and when her tears fell on him, pain and bruise left\nhim, and he was as whole as ever. When he looked he saw that the black\nPrincess's feet were as white as silver.\n\nThe next night the troll came again, and with him two others. \"Black\ncats and spotted toads!\" bellowed he, \"are you here again?\" Then he\ncaught the Prince by the hair and dragged him out into the middle of the\nfloor, and all three of the trolls fell upon the Prince and beat him\nwith clubs, as though he had been a sack of barley-flour. But the Prince\nbore this too without a word. At last the morning came, and they had to\ngive over beating him. \"We shall see if you will come again,\" said the\ntroll of the house.\n\nAfter the trolls had gone, the black Princess came and wept over the\nPrince as she had done before, and when her tears fell on him he was\nmade whole again. And now the hands of the black Princess were as white\nas silver.\n\n[Illustration: THE GREAT UGLY TROLL FINDS THE PRINCE BY THE FIRE]\n\nThe third night the troll of the house came, and brought with him six\nothers. Then the same thing happened as before, and they beat the Prince\nwith great cudgels as thick as my thumb. At last the morning came, and\nthey went away bellowing and howling, for their enchantment had gone. As\nfor the Prince, he lay upon the floor more dead than alive, for he could\nneither see nor hear anything that happened about him.\n\nThen the Princess came for the third time and wept over him, and he was\nwhole and sound again. As for the Princess, she stood before him, and\nnow her brow was as white as milk, and her cheeks were as red as blood,\nand her eyes were as blue as the skies, and her hair was like spun gold.\nBut the beautiful Princess had little or nothing upon her, so the Prince\nwrapped her in a ram's skin that was in the troll's house. Then he\nturned his toes the way he had come, and started away for home, taking\nher along with him.\n\nSo they went along and along till they had come so near to the King's\nhouse that they could see the high roofs and the weathercocks over the\ncrest of the next hill. There the Prince bade the Princess to wait for\nhim till he went home and brought her a dress of real silver and gold,\nsuch as was fitting for her to wear. Then he left her, and the Princess\nsat down beside the roadside to wait until he should come again.\n\nNow as the Princess sat there, there came along the old goose-herd of\nthe palace, and with her came her daughter; for they were driving the\nroyal geese home again from where they had been eating grass. When they\nsaw the beautiful Princess, clad in her ram's hide, they stared as\nthough they would never shut their eyes again. Then they wanted to know\nall about her--who she was, and where she came from, and what she sat\nthere for. So the Princess told them all that they wanted to know, and\nthat she waited there for the Prince to come with a dress all of silver\nand gold, which would suit her better than the old ram's hide which she\nwore.\n\nThen the old goose-woman thought that it would be a fine thing to have\nher daughter in the Princess's place, so that she might have the dress\nof real silver and gold, and marry the Prince. So the goose-herd's\ndaughter held the Princess, and the old goose-herd stripped the ram's\nhide off from her.\n\nNo sooner had they done this than the Princess was changed into a\nbeautiful golden bird, and flew away over hill and over valley. Then the\ngoose-herd's daughter clad herself in the ram's hide, and sat down in\nthe Princess's place.\n\n[Illustration: The Gooseherd & her Daughter meet the Princess at the\nRoadside]\n\n\"Yes, my pretty little bird,\" said the old goose-herd, \"thou wilt make a\nfine Princess!\" But, prut! she was no more like a Princess than I am,\nfor she was squat, and round-shouldered, and had hair of the color of\ntow.\n\nThen the old goose-herd drove her geese away, and the goose-girl waited\nfor the coming of the Prince.\n\nSure enough, after a while the Prince came with a fine dress, all of\nreal silver and gold; but when he saw the goose-girl he beat his head\nwith his knuckles, for he thought that it was the Princess, and that she\nwas enchanted again.\n\nWhy did he not look through the ring of his magic key?\n\nPerhaps for this, perhaps for that--one cannot be always wise.\n\n[Illustration: The Prince looks through the Magic Key.]\n\nThen the Prince dressed the goose-girl in the fine dress of gold and\nsilver, and took her home with him. Hui! how everybody stared and\nlaughed when they saw what kind of a Princess it was that the Prince\nbrought home with him! As for the poor old King, he rubbed his\nspectacles and looked and looked, for he thought that this was a strange\nsort of a wife for the Prince to make such a buzz about. However, he\nsaid nothing, for he thought to himself that perhaps she would grow\nprettier by-and-by.\n\nSo orders were given for a grand wedding on Thursday, and the old King\nasked all of the neighbors to come, and even those who lived at a\ndistance, for this was to be a very grand wedding indeed.\n\nBut the old goose-herd told her daughter to mix a sleeping powder with\nthe Prince's wine at supper, for, if the real Princess were to come at\nall, she would come that night. So the goose-girl did as she was told,\nand the Prince drank the sleeping powder with his wine, and knew nothing\nof it.\n\nThat night the golden bird came flying, and sat in the linden tree just\noutside of the Prince's chamber window. Then she clapped her wings and\nsang:\n\n\"I wept over you once,\n I wept over you twice,\n I wept over you three times.\n In the ram's skin I waited,\n And out of the ram's skin I flew.\n Why are you sleeping,\n Life of my life?\"\n\nBut the Prince slept as sound as a dormouse, and when the dawn came and\nthe cocks crew the golden bird was forced to fly away.\n\nThe next night the false Princess did as she had done before, and mixed\na sleeping powder with the Prince's cup of wine.\n\nThat night the golden bird came again, and perched in the linden tree\noutside of the Prince's window, and sang:\n\n\"I wept over you once,\n I wept over you twice,\n I wept over you three times.\n In the ram's skin I waited,\n And out of the ram's skin I flew.\n Why are you sleeping,\n Life of my life?\"\n\nBut once more the Prince slept through it all, and when morning had come\nthe golden bird was forced to fly away.\n\nNow it chanced that that night some of the folk of the King's household\nheard the bird singing, and they told the Prince all about it. So when\nthe third night came, and the false Princess gave the Prince the cup of\nwine with the sleeping powder in it, he threw the wine over his\nshoulder, and never touched so much as a drop of it.\n\nThat night the bird came for the third time, and sang as it had done\nbefore.\n\nBut this time the Prince was not sleeping. He jumped out of his bed and\nran to the window, and there he saw the bird, and its feathers shone\nlike fire because they were of pure gold. Then he got his magic key and\nlooked through the ring of it, and whom should he see but his own\nPrincess sitting in the linden tree.\n\nThen the Prince called to her, \"What shall I do to set you free from\nthis enchantment?\"\n\n\"Throw your knife over me,\" said the Princess.\n\nNo sooner said than done. The Prince threw his knife over her, and\nthere she stood in her own true shape. Then the Prince took her to the\nKing, and when the King saw how pretty she was, he skipped and danced\ntill his slippers flew about his ears.\n\nThe next morning the old King went to the false Princess, and said,\n\"What should be done to one who would do thus and so?\"\n\n[Illustration: The Old King Rejoices at His New Daughter-in-Law.]\n\nTo this the false Princess answered, as bold as brass, \"Such a one\nshould be thrown into a pit full of toads and snakes.\"\n\n\"You have spoken for yourself,\" said the King; and he would have done\njust so to her had not the true Princess begged for her so that she was\nsent back again to tend the geese, for that was what she was fit for.\n\nThen they had the grandest wedding that ever was seen in all of the\nworld. Everybody was asked, and there was enough for all to eat as much\nas they chose, and to take a little something home to the children\nbeside. If I had been there I would have brought you something.\n\nWhat is the meaning of all this?\nListen, I will tell you something.\nOnce there was a man, and he winnowed a whole\npeck of chaff, and got only three good solid grains from\nit, and yet he was glad to have so much.\nWould you winnow a whole peck of chaff for only\nthree good grains? No? Then you will never know\nall that is meant by this story.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: A Disappointment. This illustrated poem has the two\ntalking to each other by a road.]\n\nA DISAPPOINTMENT\n\n _He_\n\"I prithee, tell me wh're you live?\n Oh Maid, so sweet and rare!\"\n _She_\n\"I am ye miller's daughter, sir,\n And live just over th're\"\n _He_\n\"Of all ye Maids I ever saw,\n You are beyond compare.\"\n _She_\n\"Oh; Thank you, sir! Oh; thank you, sir!\n Your words are very fair.\"\n _He_\n\"So I w'ld ask you something, now;\n If I might only dare.\"\n _She_\n\"Now, you may ask me wh't you please,\n For anything I care.\"\n _He_\n\"Then will you marry me? For we.\n W'ld make a goodly pair.\"\n _She_\n\"I thank you sir; your offer, it\n Is most extremely rare.\nBut as I am already wed,\n You'r late, sir, for ye Fair.\"\n\nAt th's ye Bachelor walked away,\nAnd talked to himself of th' Lass so gay--\n\"Her hair is very decidedly red;\nAnd her eyes have somewhat of a cast in her head;\nAnd her feet are large, and her hands are coarse;\nAnd, without I'm mistaken, her voice is hoarse.\n'Tis a bargain of wh'ch I am very well rid;\nI am glad, on ye whole, I escaped as I did.\"\n\nHoward Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Ye sad story concerning one innocent little _Lamb_ and\nfour wicked _Wolves._ The illustrations show small insets of the lamb\ndancing, the four wolves sitting and watching the lamb dance, and\nfinally a group of lambs looking at its tail as the wolves run away.]\n\nYE SAD STORY CONCERNING ON INNOCENT LITTLE _LAMB_ AND FOUR WICKED\n_WOLVES_\n\nA little lamb was gamboling,\n Upon a pleasant day,\nAnd four grey wolves came shambling,\n And stopped to see it play\n In the sun.\n Said the lamb, \"Perhaps I may\n Charm these creatures with my play,\n And they'll let me go away,\n When I've done.\"\n\nThe wolves, they sat asmiling at\n The playful thing, to see\nHow exceedingly beguiling that\n Its pretty play could be.\n See it hop!\n But its strength began to wane,\n Though it gamboled on in pain,\n Till it finally was fain,\n For to stop.\n\nOh! then there was a munching,\n Of that tender little thing,\nAnd a crunching and a scrunching,\n As you'ld munch a chicken wing.\n No avail\n Was its cunning, merry play\n For the only thing, they say,\n That was left of it that day,\n Was its tail.\n So with me; when I am done,\n And the critics have begun,\n All they'll leave me of my fun\n 'Ll be the tale.\n\nH Pyle\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nTHE APPLE OF CONTENTMENT\n\n\nThere was a woman once, and she had three daughters. The first daughter\nsquinted with both eyes, yet the woman loved her as she loved salt, for\nshe herself squinted with both eyes. The second daughter had one\nshoulder higher than the other, and eyebrows as black as soot in the\nchimney, yet the woman loved her as well as she loved the other, for she\nherself had black eyebrows and one shoulder higher than the other. The\nyoungest daughter was as pretty as a ripe apple, and had hair as fine as\nsilk and the color of pure gold, but the woman loved her not at all,\nfor, as I have said, she herself was neither pretty, nor had she hair of\nthe color of pure gold. Why all this was so, even Hans Pfifendrummel\ncannot tell, though he has read many books and one over.\n\nThe first sister and the second sister dressed in their Sunday clothes\nevery day, and sat in the sun doing nothing, just as though they had\nbeen born ladies, both of them.\n\nAs for Christine--that was the name of the youngest girl--as for\nChristine, she dressed in nothing but rags, and had to drive the geese\nto the hills in the morning and home again in the evening, so that they\nmight feed on the young grass all day and grow fat.\n\nThe first sister and the second sister had white bread (and butter\nbeside) and as much fresh milk as they could drink; but Christine had to\neat cheese-parings and bread-crusts, and had hardly enough of them to\nkeep Goodman Hunger from whispering in her ear.\n\nThis was how the churn clacked in that house!\n\nWell, one morning Christine started off to the hills with her flock of\ngeese, and in her hands she carried her knitting, at which she worked to\nsave time. So she went along the dusty road until, by-and-by, she came\nto a place where a bridge crossed the brook, and what should she see\nthere but a little red cap, with a silver bell at the point of it,\nhanging from the alder branch. It was such a nice, pretty little red cap\nthat Christine thought that she would take it home with her, for she had\nnever seen the like of it in all of her life before.\n\nSo she put it in her pocket, and then off she went with her geese again.\nBut she had hardly gone two-score of paces when she heard a voice\ncalling her, \"Christine! Christine!\"\n\nShe looked, and who should she see but a queer little gray man, with a\ngreat head as big as a cabbage and little legs as thin as young\nradishes.\n\n\"What do you want?\" said Christine, when the little man had come to\nwhere she was.\n\nOh, the little man only wanted his cap again, for without it he could\nnot go back home into the hill--that was where he belonged.\n\nBut how did the cap come to be hanging from the bush? Yes, Christine\nwould like to know that before she gave it back again.\n\n[Illustration: The little man asks far his cap.]\n\nWell, the little hill-man was fishing by the brook over yonder when a\npuff of wind blew his cap into the water, and he just hung it up to dry.\nThat was all that there was about it; and now would Christine please\ngive it to him?\n\nChristine did not know how about that; perhaps she would and perhaps she\nwould not. It was a nice, pretty little cap; what would the little\nunderground man give her for it? that was the question.\n\nOh, the little man would give her five thalers for it, and gladly.\n\nNo; five thalers was not enough for such a pretty little cap--see, there\nwas a silver bell hanging to it too.\n\nWell, the little man did not want to be hard at a bargain; he would give\nher a hundred thalers for it.\n\nNo; Christine did not care for money. What else would he give for this\nnice, dear little cap?\n\n\"See, Christine,\" said the little man, \"I will give you this for the\ncap\"; and he showed her something in his hand that looked just like a\nbean, only it was as black as a lump of coal.\n\n\"Yes, good; but what is that?\" said Christine.\n\n\"That,\" said the little man, \"is a seed from the apple of contentment.\nPlant it, and from it will grow a tree, and from the tree an apple.\nEverybody in the world that sees the apple will long for it, but nobody\nin the world can pluck it but you. It will always be meat and drink to\nyou when you are hungry, and warm clothes to your back when you are\ncold. Moreover, as soon as you pluck it from the tree, another as good\nwill grow in its place. _Now_, will you give me my hat?\"\n\nOh yes; Christine would give the little man his cap for such a seed as\nthat, and gladly enough. So the little man gave Christine the seed, and\nChristine gave the little man his cap again. He put the cap on his head,\nand--puff!--away he was gone, as suddenly as the light of a candle when\nyou blow it out.\n\nSo Christine took the seed home with her, and planted it before the\nwindow of her room. The next morning when she looked out of the window\nshe beheld a beautiful tree, and on the tree hung an apple that shone\nin the sun as though it were pure gold. Then she went to the tree and\nplucked the apple as easily as though it were a gooseberry, and as soon\nas she had plucked it another as good grew in its place. Being hungry\nshe ate it, and thought that she had never eaten anything as good, for\nit tasted like pancake with honey and milk.\n\n[Illustration: Christine and the Apple]\n\nBy-and-by the oldest sister came out of the house and looked around, but\nwhen she saw the beautiful tree with the golden apple hanging from it\nyou can guess how she stared.\n\nPresently she began to long and long for the apple as she had never\nlonged for anything in her life. \"I will just pluck it,\" said she, \"and\nno one will be the wiser for it.\" But that was easier said than done.\nShe reached and reached, but she might as well have reached for the\nmoon; she climbed and climbed, but she might as well have climbed for\nthe sun--for either one would have been as easy to get as that which she\nwanted. At last she had to give up trying for it, and her temper was\nnone the sweeter for that, you may be sure.\n\n[Illustration: Christine's Mother and Sisters wish for the Apple.]\n\nAfter a while came the second sister, and when she saw the golden apple\nshe wanted it just as much as the first had done. But to want and to get\nare very different things, as she soon found, for she was no more able\nto get it than the other had been.\n\nLast of all came the mother, and she also strove to pluck the apple. But\nit was no use. She had no more luck of her trying than her daughters;\nall that the three could do was to stand under the tree and look at the\napple, and wish for it and wish for it.\n\nThey are not the only ones who have done the like, with the apple of\ncontentment hanging just above them.\n\nAs for Christine, she had nothing to do but to pluck an apple whenever\nshe wanted it. Was she hungry? there was the apple hanging in the tree\nfor her. Was she thirsty? there was the apple. Cold? there was the\napple. So you see, she was the happiest girl betwixt all the seven hills\nthat stand at the ends of the earth; for nobody in the world can have\nmore than contentment, and that was what the apple brought her.\n\n\nII\n\nOne day a king came riding along the road, and all of his people with\nhim. He looked up and saw the apple hanging in the tree, and a great\ndesire came upon him to have a taste of it. So he called one of the\nservants to him, and told him to go and ask whether it could be bought\nfor a potful of gold.\n\nSo the servant went to the house, and knocked on the door--rap! tap!\ntap!\n\n\"What do you want?\" said the mother of the three sisters, coming to the\ndoor.\n\nOh, nothing much; only a king was out there in the road, and wanted to\nknow if she would sell the apple yonder for a potful of gold.\n\nYes, the woman would do that. Just pay her the pot of gold and he might\ngo and pluck it and welcome.\n\nSo the servant gave her the pot of gold, and then he tried to pluck the\napple. First he reached for it, and then he climbed for it, and then he\nshook the limb.\n\nBut it was no use for him to try; he could no more get it--well--than\n_I_ could if I had been in his place.\n\nAt last the servant had to go back to the King. The apple was there, he\nsaid, and the woman had sold it, but try and try as he would he could no\nmore get it than he could get the little stars in the sky.\n\nThen the King told the steward to go and get it for him; but the\nsteward, though he was a tall man and a strong man, could no more pluck\nthe apple than the servant.\n\n[Illustration: The King reaches for the Apple]\n\nSo he had to go back to the King with an empty fist. No; he could not\ngather it, either.\n\nThen the King himself went. He knew that he could pluck it--of course he\ncould! Well, he tried and tried; but nothing came of his trying, and he\nhad to ride away at last without, having had so much as a smell of the\napple.\n\nAfter the King came home, he talked and dreamed and thought of nothing\nbut the apple; for the more he could not get it the more he wanted\nit--that is the way we are made in this world. At last he grew\nmelancholy and sick for want of that which he could not get. Then he\nsent for one who was so wise that he had more in his head than ten men\ntogether. This wise man told him that the only one who could pluck the\nfruit of contentment for him was the one to whom the tree belonged.\nThis was one of the daughters of the woman who had sold the apple to him\nfor the pot of gold.\n\nWhen the King heard this he was very glad; he had his horse saddled, and\nhe and his court rode away, and so came at last to the cottage where\nChristine lived. There they found the mother and the elder sisters, for\nChristine was away on the hills with her geese.\n\nThe King took off his hat and made a fine bow.\n\nThe wise man at home had told him this and that; now to which one of her\ndaughters did the apple-tree belong? so said the King.\n\n\"Oh, it is my oldest daughter who owns the tree,\" said the woman.\n\nSo, good! Then if the oldest daughter would pluck the apple for him he\nwould take her home and marry her and make a queen of her. Only let her\nget it for him without delay.\n\nPrut! that would never do. What! was the girl to climb the apple-tree\nbefore the King and all of the court? No! no! Let the King go home, and\nshe would bring the apple to him all in good time; that was what the\nwoman said.\n\nWell, the King would do that, only let her make haste, for he wanted it\nvery much indeed.\n\nAs soon as the King had gone, the woman and her daughters sent for the\ngoose-girl to the hills. Then they told her that the King wanted the\napple yonder, and that she must pluck it for her sister to take to him;\nif she did not do as they said they would throw her into the well. So\nChristine had to pluck the fruit; and as soon as she had done so the\noldest sister wrapped it up in a napkin and set off with it to the\nKing's house, as pleased as pleased could be. Rap! tap! tap! she knocked\nat the door. Had she brought the apple for the King?\n\nOh yes, she had brought it. Here it was, all wrapped up in a fine\nnapkin.\n\n[Illustration: The King talks with the Wise Man:]\n\nAfter that they did not let her stand outside the door till her toes\nwere cold, I can tell you. As soon as she had come to the King she\nopened her napkin. Believe me or not as you please, all the same, I tell\nyou that there was nothing in the napkin but a hard round stone. When\nthe King saw only a stone he was so angry that he stamped like a rabbit\nand told them to put the girl out of the house. So they did, and she\nwent home with a flea in her ear, I can tell you.\n\nThen the King sent his steward to the house where Christine and her\nsisters lived.\n\nHe told the woman that he had come to find whether she had any other\ndaughters.\n\n[Illustration: The Kings Steward and Christine.]\n\nYes; the woman had another daughter, and, to tell the truth, it was she\nwho owned the tree. Just let the steward go home again and the girl\nwould fetch the apple in a little while.\n\nAs soon as the steward had gone, they sent to the hills for Christine\nagain. Look! she must pluck the apple for the second sister to take to\nthe King; if she did not do that they would throw her into the well.\n\nSo Christine had to pluck it, and gave it to the second sister, who\nwrapped it up in a napkin and set off for the King's house. But she\nfared no better than the other, for, when she opened the napkin, there\nwas nothing in it but a lump of mud. So they packed her home again with\nher apron to her eyes.\n\n[Illustration: Christine gives the Apple to the King]\n\nAfter a while the King's steward came to the house again. Had the woman\nno other daughter than these two?\n\nWell, yes, there was one, but she was a poor ragged thing, of no\naccount, and fit for nothing in the world but to tend the geese.\n\nWhere was she?\n\nOh, she was up on the hills now tending her flock.\n\nBut could the steward see her?\n\nYes, he might see her, but she was nothing but a poor simpleton.\n\nThat was all very good, but the steward would like to see her, for that\nwas what the King had sent him there for.\n\nSo there was nothing to do but to send to the hills for Christine.\n\nAfter a while she came, and the steward asked her if she could pluck the\napple yonder for the King.\n\nYes; Christine could do that easily enough. So she reached and picked it\nas though it had been nothing but a gooseberry on the bush. Then the\nsteward took off his hat and made her a low bow in spite of her ragged\ndress, for he saw that she was the one for whom they had been looking\nall this time.\n\nSo Christine slipped the golden apple into her pocket, and then she and\nthe steward set off to the King's house together.\n\nWhen they had come there everybody began to titter and laugh behind the\npalms of their hands to see what a poor ragged goose-girl the steward\nhad brought home with him. But for that the steward cared not a rap.\n\n\"Have you brought the apple?\" said the King, as soon as Christine had\ncome before him.\n\nYes; here it was; and Christine thrust her hand into her pocket and\nbrought it forth. Then the King took a great bite of it, and as soon as\nhe had done so he looked at Christine and thought that he had never seen\nsuch a pretty girl. As for her rags, he minded them no more than one\nminds the spots on a cherry; that was because he had eaten of the apple\nof contentment.\n\nAnd were they married? Of course they were! and a grand wedding it was,\nI can tell you. It is a pity that you were not there; but though you\nwere not, Christine's mother and sisters were, and, what is more, they\ndanced with the others, though I believe they would rather have danced\nupon pins and needles.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said they; \"we still have the apple of contentment at\nhome, though we cannot taste of it.\" But no; they had nothing of the\nkind. The next morning it stood before the young Queen Christine's\nwindow, just as it had at her old home, for it belonged to her and to no\none else in all of the world. That was lucky for the King, for he needed\na taste of it now and then as much as anybody else, and no one could\npluck it for him but Christine.\n\nNow, that is all of this story. What does it\n mean? Can you not see? Prut! rub\n your spectacles and look again!\n\n\nTHE END","title":"Pepper & Salt; or, Seasoning for Young Folk","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":28909}