{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19993/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19993","id":"gutenberg_19993","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19993","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Children's Anthologies","Children's poetry","Children's stories","Fables","Fairy tales","Nursery rhymes"],"text":"CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITES\n\nAND FAIRY STORIES\n\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE\n\nEDWARD EVERETT HALE\n\nWILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH\n\n_Editors_\n\n\nJENNIE ELLIS BURDICK\n\n_Assistant Editor_\n\n\nVolume One [Illustration: The Young Folks Treasury]\n\n\nNEW YORK\n\nTHE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY\n\nINCORPORATED\n\n1927\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1919, BY\nTHE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.\n\nCOPYRIGHT, 1909, 1917, BY\nTHE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.\n\n\nEDITORS\n\nHAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, L.H.D., LL.D.\nEDWARD EVERETT HALE, D.D., LL.D.\nWILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH, Ph.D., Litt.D.\n\n\nASSISTANT EDITOR\n\nJENNIE ELLIS BURDICK\n\n\n_Partial List of Authors and Editors Represented in The Young Folks\nTreasury by Selections from Their Writings:_\n\nWOODROW WILSON, Twenty-eighth President of the United States.\nTHEODORE ROOSEVELT, Twenty-sixth President of the United States.\nHENRY VAN DYKE, poet, essayist, and diplomatist.\nLYMAN ABBOTT, editor of \"The Outlook.\"\nRUDYARD KIPLING, poet and story-teller.\nGENERAL SIR R. S. BADEN-POWELL, founder of the Boy Scouts.\nBECKLES WILLSON, author of \"The Romance of Canada.\"\nIDA PRENTICE WHITCOMB, author of \"Young People's Story of Art.\"\nELLEN VELVIN, writer of animal stories.\nMARY MACGREGOR, author of \"King Arthur's Knights,\" etc.\nRALPH HENRY BARBOUR, author of boys' stories.\nT. GILBERT PEARSON, executive secretary, National Association\n of Audubon Societies.\nJOSEPH JACOBS, authority upon folklore.\nTHEODORE WOOD, writer on natural history.\nERNEST THOMPSON SETON, writer of stories about natural\n history and founder of the Woodcraft League.\nAMY STEEDMAN, writer on biography.\nEVERETT T. TOMLINSON, author of boys' stories.\nRALPH D. PAINE, author of boys' stories.\nA. FREDERICK COLLINS, author of boys' books.\nDON C. BLISS, educator.\nBLISS CARMAN, poet and essayist.\nSIR JAMES MATTHEW BARRIE, novelist.\nWILLIAM CANTON, story-teller.\nHERMANN HAGEDORN, poet.\nELBRIDGE S. BROOKS, writer of boys' stories.\nALFRED G. GARDINER, editor of \"The London News.\"\nFRANKLIN K. LANE, United States Secretary of the Interior.\nJOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, creator of \"Uncle Remus.\"\nERNEST INGERSOLL, naturalist.\nWILLIAM L. FINLEY, State biologist, Oregon.\nCHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, writer of animal stories.\nE. NESBIT, novelist and poet.\nARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, author of \"How It Is Done,\" etc.\nIRA REMSEN, former president of Johns Hopkins University.\nGIFFORD PINCHOT, professor of forestry, Yale University.\nGUSTAVE KOBB\u00c9, writer of biographies.\nJACOB A. RIIS, philanthropist and author.\nEMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER, story-writer and poet.\nJOHN LANG, writer of children's books.\nJEANIE LANG, writer of children's books.\nJOHN H. CLIFFORD, editor and writer.\nHERBERT T. WADE, editor and writer on physics.\nCHARLES R. GIBSON, writer on electricity.\nLILIAN CASK, writer on natural history.\nBLANCHE MARCHESI, opera singer and teacher.\nJOHN FINNEMORE, traveler and writer of boys' stories.\nALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL, inventor of the telephone.\nJAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, poet.\nCHARLES H. CAFFIN, author of \"A Guide to Pictures.\"\nJAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS.\nANDREW F. CURRIER, M.D., popular medical writer.\nHELEN KELLER, the blind and deaf writer.\nOLIVER HERFORD, humorist and illustrator.\n\n\n\n\nGENERAL INTRODUCTION\n\n * * * * *\n\nBooks are as much a part of the furnishing of a house as tables and\nchairs, and in the making of a home they belong, not with the luxuries\nbut with the necessities. A bookless house is not a home; for a home\naffords food and shelter for the mind as well as for the body. It is\nas great an offence against a child to starve his mind as to starve\nhis body, and there is as much danger of reducing his vitality and\nputting him at a disadvantage in his lifework in the one as in the\nother form of deprivation. There was a time when it was felt that\nshelter, clothing, food and physical oversight comprised the whole\nduty of a charitable institution to dependent children; to-day no\ncommunity would permit such an institution to exist unless it provided\nschool privileges. An acute sense of responsibility toward children\nis one of the prime characteristics of American society, shown in the\nvast expenditures for public education in all forms, in the increasing\nattention paid to light, ventilation, and safety in school buildings,\nin the opening of play grounds in large cities, in physical\nsupervision of children in schools, and the agitation against the\nemployment of children in factories, and in other and less obvious\nways.\n\nChildren are helpless to protect themselves and secure what they need\nfor health of body and mind; they are exceedingly impressionable; and\nthe future is always in their hands. The first and most imperative\nduty of parents is to give their children the best attainable\npreparation for life, no matter at what sacrifice to themselves. There\nare hosts of fathers and mothers who recognize this obligation but do\nnot know how to discharge it; who are eager to give their children the\nmost wholesome conditions, but do not know how to secure them; who are\nespecially anxious that their children should start early and start\nright on that highway of education which is the open road to honorable\nsuccess. There are many homes in which books would find abundant room\nif the heads of the families knew what books to buy, or had the means\nto put into the hands of the growing child the reading matter it needs\nin the successive periods of its growth.\n\nThis condition of eagerness to give the best, and of ignorance of how\nor where to find the best is the justification for the publication\nof this set of books. The attempt has been made in a series of twelve\nvolumes to bring together in convenient form the fairy stories, myths,\nand legends which have fed the children of many generations in the\nyears when the imagination is awakening and craving stimulus and\nmaterial to work upon;--that age of myth-making which is a prelude to\nthe more scientific uses of the mind and of immense importance in an\nintensely practical age;--a group of tales of standard quality and\nan interest and value which have placed them among the permanent\npossessions of English literature; a careful selection of stories\nof animal life; a natural history, familiar in style and thoroughly\ntrustworthy in fact; an account of those travels and adventures which\nhave opened up the earth and made its resources available, and which\nconstitute one of the most heroic chapters in the history of the\nlong struggle of men to possess the earth and make it a home for\nthe highest kind of civilization; a record of heroism taken from the\nannals of the patriots and of those brave men who, in all ages, ranks\nof society and occupations, have dared to face great dangers in the\npath of duty and science, with special attention to that everyday\nheroism in which the age is specially rich and of which so many good\npeople are grossly ignorant; a survey of scientific achievement, with\nreports of recent discoveries in knowledge and adaptation of knowledge\nto human need; a group of biographies of the men and women--mostly\nAmericans--who are the most stimulating companions for boys and girls;\na volume on the Fine Arts dealing with music, painting, sculpture,\narchitecture, in a way to instruct young readers and making accessible\na large number of those songs which appeal in the best way to children\nin schools and homes; a collection of the best poetry for the youngest\nand oldest readers, chosen not only for excellence from the standpoint\nof art, but deep and abiding human interest; and a volume devoted to\nthe occupations and resources of the home, addressed to parents no\nless than to children, with practical suggestions about books and\nreading, games and amusements, exercise and health, and those kindred\ntopics which have to do with making the home wholesome and attractive.\n\nThese twelve volumes aim, in brief, to make the home the most\ninspiring school and the most attractive place for pleasure, and\nto bring the best the world has to offer of adventure, heroism,\nachievement and beauty within its four walls.\n\nSpecial attention has been given to the youngest children whose\ninterests are often neglected because they are thought to be too\nimmature to receive serious impressions from what is read to them.\nPsychology is beginning to make us understand that no greater\nmistake can be made in the education of children than underrating the\nimportance of the years when the soil receives the seed most quickly.\nFor education of the deepest sort--the planting of those formative\nideas which give final direction and quality to the intellectual\nlife--there is no period so important as the years between three and\nsix, and none so fruitful. To put in the seed at that time is, as a\nrule, to decide the kind of harvest the child will reap later; whether\nhe shall be a shrewd, keen, clever, ambitious man, with a hard,\nmechanical mind, bent on getting the best of the world; or a generous,\nfruitful, open-minded man, intent on living the fullest life in mind\nand heart. No apology is offered for giving large space to myths,\nlegends, fairy stories, tales of all sorts, and to poetry; for in\nthese expressions of the creative mind is to be found the material on\nwhich the imagination has fed in every age and which is, for the most\npart, conspicuously absent from our educational programmes.\n\nAmerica has at present greater facility in producing \"smart\" men than\nin producing able men; the alert, quick-witted, money-maker abounds,\nbut the men who live with ideas, who care for the principles\nof things, and who make life rich in resource and interest are\ncomparatively few. America needs poetry more than it needs industrial\ntraining; though the two ought never to be separated. The time to\nawaken the imagination, which is the creative faculty, is early\nchildhood; and the most accessible material for this education is the\nliterature which the race created in its childhood. The creative man,\nwhether in the arts or in practical affairs, in poetry, in engineering\nor in business, is always the man of imagination.\n\nIn this library for young people the attempt has been made not only\nto give the child what it needs but in the form which is most easily\nunderstood. For this reason some well-known stories have been\nretold in simpler English than their classic forms present. This is\nespecially true of many tales for any young children reprinted by\nspecial arrangement from recent English sources. In some cases, where\nthe substance has seemed of more importance to the child than the\nform, simpler words and forms of expression have been substituted for\nmore complex or abstract phrases, and passages of minor importance\nhave been condensed or omitted.\n\nThe aim in making the selections in this set of books has been to\ninterest the child and give it what it needs for normal growth; the\nmaterial has been taken from many sources old and new; much of the\nreading matter presented has been familiar in one form or another, to\ngenerations of children; much has appeared for the first time within\nthe last ten years; a considerable part has been prepared especially\nfor the Treasury and a large part has been selected from the best\nwriting in the various fields.\n\nIt is the hope of the Editor that this \"Treasury\" or \"Library\" will\njustify its title by its real and fundamental service to children and\nparents alike.\n\nHAMILTON W. MABIE\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nSince this series of books is intended for all young people from one\nto one hundred, it opens with about eighty of the old MOTHER GOOSE\nRHYMES. Nothing better was ever invented to tell to little folks who\nare young enough for lullabies. Their rhythm, their humor, and their\npith will always cause us to prize them as the Babies' Classics.\n\nNext come a score of the most famous NURSERY TALES, the kind that\nchildren cry for and love to hear fifty times over. And since, just\nas soon as little folks like stories they love to hear them in rhyme,\nhere are forty CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS.\n\nWhat would young life be without \"Puss in Boots\" and \"Little Red\nRiding Hood\" and \"The Sleeping Beauty\"? Our TREASURY would indeed be\npoor without them, so these FAVORITE STORIES come next, yoked\nwith some OLD-FASHIONED POEMS in story-form, as \"The Night before\nChristmas,\" \"The Wonderful World,\" and \"Little Orphant Annie.\" All who\nlove pets and animals have always liked FABLES, so here are the noted\nparables of \u00c6sop, and the lesser-known but even more jolly tales from\nEast Indian sources.\n\nThe fairy-tale age is supposed to come from four to nine, but the\neditors are sure it lasts much longer than that. However this may be,\nthe better half of our first volume is given up to FAIRY TALES AND\nLAUGHTER STORIES from all over the world.\n\nIt ends with TALES FOR TINY TOTS, the kind that mother reads beside\nthe fire at bedtime, some of them old, like the \"Little Red Hen\" and\n\"Peter Rabbit,\" and some of them newer, like \"The Greedy Brownie\" and\n\"The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen.\"\n\nWILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nGeneral Introduction to Young Folks' Treasury vii\nIntroduction xi\n\nNURSERY RHYMES\n\nHush-a-bye, Baby, on the Tree-top; Rock-a-bye, Baby\n thy Cradle is Green; Bye, Baby Bunting; Hush\n Thee, my Babby; Sleep, Baby, Sleep; This Little\n Pig Went to Market; etc., etc. 1-31\n\nNURSERY TALES\n\nThe Three Bears 32\nCinderella 35\nThe Three Brothers 41\nThe Wren and the Bear 42\nChicken-Licken 45\nThe Fox and the Cat 47\nThe Rats and their Son-in-Law 48\nThe Mouse and the Sausage 50\nJohnny and the Golden Goose 51\nTitty Mouse and Tatty Mouse 56\nTeeny Tiny 58\nThe Spider and the Flea 60\nThe Little Shepherd Boy 61\nThe Three Spinners 62\nThe Cat and the Mouse in Partnership 65\nThe Sweet Soup 68\nThe Straw, the Coal, and the Bean 68\nWhy the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail 70\nThe Three Little Pigs 71\n\nCHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS\n\nThe Three Children 75\nThe Owl and the Pussy-Cat--_Edward Lear_ 75\nKindness to Animals 77\nHow Doth the Little Busy Bee--_Isaac Watts_ 77\nSuppose--_Phoebe Cary_ 78\nTwinkle, Twinkle 79\nPretty Cow--_Jane Taylor_ 80\nThe Three Little Kittens--_Eliza Lee Follen_ 80\nThe Land of Counterpane--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 82\nThere was a Little Girl--_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 82\nThe Boy who never Told a Lie 83\nForeign Children--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84\nThe Unseen Playmate--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84\nI saw Three Ships 85\nA Was an Ant--_Edward Lear_ 86\nThe Table and the Chair--_Edward Lear_ 91\nPrecocious Piggy--_Thomas Hood_ 93\nA Boy's Song--_James Hogg_ 94\nButtercups and Daisies--_Mary Howitt_ 95\nThe Violet--_Jane Taylor_ 96\nIf ever I See--_Lydia Maria Child_ 97\nThe Little Land--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 97\nA Lobster Quadrille--_Lewis Carroll_ 99\nWhere Go the Boats--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 100\nThe Wind and the Moon--_George Macdonald_ 101\nWhere are you Going my Pretty Maid 103\nThe Lost Doll--_Charles Kingsley_ 104\nForeign Lands--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 104\nBed in Summer--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 105\nTry Again 106\nA Good Play--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 106\nGood Night and Good Morning--_Richard Monckton Milnes_ 107\nThe Wind--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 108\nThe Spider and the Fly--_Mary Howitt_ 109\nLet Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite--_Isaac Watts_ 110\nChild's Evening Hymn--_Sabine Baring-Gould_ 111\n\n\nCHILDREN'S FAVORITE STORIES\n\nHansel and Gretel 113\nThe Fair Catherine and Pif-Paf Poltrie 120\nThe Wolf and the Fox 122\nDescreet Hans 123\nPuss in Boots 126\nThe Elves and the Shoemaker 131\nHans in Luck 133\nMaster of All Masters 138\nBelling the Cat 139\nLittle Red Riding-Hood 140\nThe Nail 144\nJack and the Beanstalk 145\nHow to Tell a True Princess 149\nThe Sleeping Beauty 150\n\n\nOLD FASHIONED POEMS\n\nThe Man in the Moon--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 158\nSage Counsel--_Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch_ 160\nLimericks--_Edward Lear_ 161\nMore Limericks--_Rudyard Kipling_ and _Anonymous_ 162\nThe Dead Doll--_Margaret Vandergrift_ 163\nLittle Things--_Ascribed to Julia A. F. Carney_ 165\nThe Golden Rule--_Unknown_ 165\nDo the Best You Can--_Unknown_ 165\nThe Voice of Spring 166\nThe Lark and the Rook--_Unknown_ 166\nThanksgiving Day--_Lydia Maria Child_ 168\nThe Magpie's Nest--_Unknown_ 169\nThe Fairies of Caldon Low--_Mary Howitt_ 169\nThe Land of Story Books--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 172\nA Visit From St. Nicholas--_Clement Clarke Moore_ 173\nLittle Orphant Annie--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 175\nThe Chatterbox--_Ann Taylor_ 177\nThe Voice of Spring--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 178\nThe History Lesson--_Anonymous_ 179\nSong of Life--_Charles Mackay_ 180\nThe Good Time Coming--_Charles Mackay_ 181\nWindy Nights--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 183\nThe Wonderful World--_William Brighty Rands_ 184\nHark! Hark! The Lark--_William Shakespeare_ 185\nJog On, Jog On--_William Shakespeare_ 185\nSweet Story of Old--_Jemima Luke_ 186\nMy Shadow--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 186\nBy Cool Siloam's Shady Rill--_Reginald Heber_ 187\nThe Wind in a Frolic--_William Howitt_ 188\nThe Graves of a Household--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 189\nWe Are Seven--_William Wordsworth_ 190\nThe Better Land--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 193\nThe Juvenile Orator--_David Everett_ 194\nThe Fox and the Crow--_Little B. (Taylor?)_ 195\nThe Use of Flowers--_Mary Howitt_ 196\nContented John--_Jane Taylor_ 197\nThe Old Man's Comforts, and How He Gained Them--_Robert Southey_ 198\nThe Frost--_Hannah Flagg Gould_ 199\nThe Battle of Blenheim--_Robert Southey_ 200\nThe Chameleon--_James Merrick_ (_from M. de Lamotte_) 202\nThe Blackberry Girl--_Unknown_ 205\nMabel on Midsummer Day--_Mary Howitt_ 207\nLlewellyn and his Dog--_Willim Robert Spencer_ 214\nThe Snowbird's Song--_Francis C. Woodworth_ 217\nFor A' That and A' That--_Robert Burns_ 218\n\n\n\nFABLES\n\n\nFABLES FROM \u00c6SOP\n\nThe Goose that Laid Golden Eggs 220\nThe Boys and the Frogs 220\nThe Lion and the Mouse 220\nThe Fox and the Grapes 221\nThe Frog and the Ox 221\nThe Cat, the Monkey, and the Chestnuts 221\nThe Country Maid and Her Milkpail 222\nThe Ass in the Lion's Skin 222\nThe Tortoise and the Hare 223\nThe Vain Jackdaw 223\nThe Fox Without a Tail 224\nThe Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 224\nThe Crow and the Pitcher 225\nThe Man, his Son, and his Ass 225\n\nFABLES OF INDIA\n\n_Adapted by P. V. Ramaswami Raju_\n\nThe Camel and the Pig 226\nThe Man and his Piece of Cloth 227\nThe Sea, the Fox, and the Wolf 227\nThe Birds and the Lime 228\nThe Raven and the Cattle 228\nTinsel and Lightning 229\nThe Ass and the Watchdog 229\nThe Lark and its Young Ones 230\nThe Two Gems 230\n\nFAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES\n\nSCANDINAVIAN STORIES\n\nThe Hardy Tin Soldier--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 232\nThe Fir Tree--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 236\nThe Darning-Needle--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 245\nThumbelina--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 248\nThe Tinder-Box--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 258\nBoots and his Brothers--_George Webbe Dasent_ 268\nThe Husband who was to Mind the House\n _George Webbe Dasent_ 273\nButtercup--_George Webbe Dasent_ 275\n\nGERMAN STORIES\n\nSeven at One Blow--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 279\nOne Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 286\nThe Musicians of Bremen--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 293\nThe Fisherman and his Wife--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 296\nLittle Snow-White--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 304\nThe Goose Girl--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 313\nThe Golden Bird--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 318\n\n\nFRENCH STORIES\n\nBeauty and the Beast--_Adapted by E. Nesbit_ 326\nThe White Cat--_The Comtesse d'Aulnoy_ 335\nThe Story of Pretty Goldilocks 341\nToads and Diamonds 346\n\n\nENGLISH STORIES\n\nThe History of Tom-Thumb--_Adapted by Ernest Rhys_ 349\nJack the Giant Killer--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 356\nThe Three Sillies--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 366\n\n\nCELTIC STORIES\n\nKing O'Toole and his Goose--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 370\nThe Haughty Princess--_Adapted by Patrick Kennedy_ 373\nJack and his Master--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 376\nHudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary\n _Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 383\nConnla of the Golden Hair and the Fairy Maiden\n _Adapted by Patrick Weston Joyce_ 389\n\n\nITALIAN STORIES\n\nPinocchio's Adventures in Wonderland--_Carlo Lorenzini_ 394\n\n\nJAPANESE STORIES\n\nThe Story of the Man who did not wish to Die\n _Adapted by Yei Theodora Ozaki_ 420\nThe Accomplished and Lucky Teakettle\n _Adapted by A. B. Mitford_ 427\nThe Tongue-cut Sparrow 428\nBattle of the Monkey and the Crab 429\nMomotaro, or Little Peachling 431\nUraschina Taro and the Turtle 432\n\n\nEAST INDIAN STORIES\n\nThe Son of Seven Queens--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 436\nWho Killed the Otter's Babies--_Adapted by Walter Skeat_ 444\nThe Alligator and the Jackal--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 446\nThe Farmer and the Money Lender 450\nTit for Tat--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 452\nSingh Rajah and the Cunning Little Jackals\n _Adapted by M. Frere_ 454\n\n\nAMERICAN INDIAN STORIES\n\nThe White Stone Canoe--_Adapted by H. R. Schoolcraft_ 456\nThe Maiden who Loved a Fish 459\nThe Star Wife 462\n\n\nARABIAN STORIES\n\nThe Story of Caliph Stork 468\nPersevere and Prosper--_Adapted by A. R. Montalba_ 473\n\n\nCHINESE STORIES\n\nThe Most Frugal of Men 476\nThe Moon-Cake 477\nThe Ladle that Fell from the Moon 478\nThe Young Head of the Family 480\nA Dreadful Boar 484\n\n\nRUSSIAN STORIES\n\nKing Kojata 487\nThe Story of King Frost 492\n\n\nTALES FOR TINY TOTS\n\nTell Us a Tale--_Edward Shirley_ 496\nLittle Red Hen 497\nIn Search of a Baby--_F. Tapsell_ 498\nJock and I and the Others 500\nDolly Dimple--_F. Tapsell_ 502\nThe Tale of Peter Rabbit--_Beatrix Potter_ 503\nThe Miller, His Son, and Their Ass 506\nThe Visit to Santa Claus Land 507\nThe Greedy Brownie 511\nThe Fairies' Passage--_James Clarence Mangan_ 513\nThe World 515\n\n\nFANCIFUL STORIES\n\nWhite Magic 516\nThe Brownies--_Juliana Horatia Ewing_ 517\nThe Story of Peter Pan 522\nSir Lark and King Sun--_George MacDonald_ 525\nThe Imps in the Heavenly Meadow--_Kate E. Bunce_ 526\nThe Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen--_Hapgood Moore_ 531\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\nThumbelina Came to Live with the Field-Mouse (_color_) Frontispiece\nSimple Simon Went a-Fishing Facing Page 6\nThere Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe 8\nLittle Miss Muffet 8\nOld Mother Hubbard 18\nThe Death of Cock-Robin 26\n\"Who Has Been Tasting My Soup?\" 34\nIt Was Her Fairy Godmother! 38\nI Was the Giant Great and Still, that Sits Upon the Pillow Hill 82\nI Found My Poor Little Doll 104\nA Fair Little Girl Sat Under a Tree 108\nHansel and Gretel 118\nDo Not Grieve, Dear Master 126\nLittle Red Riding-Hood 140\nRed Riding-Hood and the Wolf 142\nPrince Florimond Finds the Sleeping Beauty 150\nThe Tortoise and the Hare 222\nThe Fox without a Tail 222\nA Voice Said Aloud, \"The Tin Soldier!\" 234\nTwo-Eyes, the Goat, and the 'Magic Table 286\nLittle Snow-White and the Peddler-Woman 306\nThe Prince Starts Homeward with His Treasure 322\nThe Castle of the White Cat 336\nShe Was Happy All Day Long in Fairyland 340\nThis is the Valiant Cornishman Who Slew the Giant Cormoran 358\nConnla and the Fairy Maiden 390\nA Pheasant Also Came Flying and Said: \"Give Me a Dumpling\" 434\n\n_(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special\npermission of E. P. Dutton & Company, owners of the American rights.)_\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHILDHOOD'S FAVORITES\n\nAND\n\nFAIRY STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nNURSERY RHYMES\n\n\n Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top,\n When the wind blows the cradle will rock;\n When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,\n Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green;\n Father's a nobleman, mother's a Queen;\n Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;\n And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the King.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Bye, baby bunting,\n Daddy's gone a-hunting,\n To get a little rabbit-skin,\n To wrap his baby bunting in.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Hush thee, my babby,\n Lie still with thy daddy,\n Thy mammy has gone to the mill,\n To grind thee some wheat\n To make thee some meat,\n And so, my dear babby, lie still.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Sleep, baby, sleep!\n Thy father watches the sheep;\n Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree,\n And down falls a little dream on thee:\n Sleep, baby, sleep!\n\n Sleep, baby, sleep.\n The large stars are the sheep,\n The wee stars are the lambs, I guess,\n The fair moon is the shepherdess:\n Sleep, baby, sleep!\n\n * * * * *\n\n This little pig went to market;\n This little pig stayed at home;\n This little pig had roast beef;\n This little pig had none;\n This little pig said, \"Wee, wee!\n I can't find my way home.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n Brow bender,\n Eye peeper,\n Nose smeller,\n Mouth eater,\n Chin chopper.\n Knock at the door--peep in\n Lift up the latch--walk in\n\n Eye winker,\n Tom Tinker,\n Nose smeller,\n Mouth eater,\n Chin chopper.\n Chin chopper.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Here sits the Lord Mayor,\n Here sit his two men,\n Here sits the cock,\n And here sits the hen;\n Here sit the chickens,\n And here they go in,\n Chippety, chippety, chippety chin.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!\n So I do, master, as fast as I can:\n Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,\n Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Pat it, kiss it,\n Stroke it, bless it;\n Three days' sunshine, three days' rain,\n Little hand all well again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Baa, baa, black sheep,\n Have you any wool?\n Yes, marry, have I,\n Three bags full:\n\n One for my master,\n One for my dame,\n And one for the little boy\n Who lives in the lane.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,\n Where have you been?\n I've been to London\n To look at the Queen\n\n Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,\n What did you there?\n I frightened a little mouse\n Under her chair.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,\n To see an old lady upon a white horse,\n Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes,\n She shall have music wherever she goes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea,\n Silver buckles on his knee;\n He'll come back and marry me,\n Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.\n\n Bobby Shaftoe's fat and fair,\n Combing down his yellow hair;\n He's my love for evermair,\n Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Tom, he was a piper's son,\n He learned to play when he was young,\n And all the tune that he could play\n Was, \"Over the hills and far away,\"\n Over the hills, and a great way off,\n The wind will blow my top-knot off.\n\n Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise\n That he well pleased both the girls and boys,\n And they always stopped to hear him play\n \"Over the hills and far away.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home,\n Thy house is on fire, thy children all gone:\n All but one whose name is Ann,\n And she crept under the pudding-pan.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The north wind doth blow,\n And we shall have snow,\n And what will the robin do then,\n Poor thing?\n\n He'll sit in a barn,\n And keep himself warm,\n And hide his head under his wing,\n Poor thing!\n\n * * * * *\n\n I had a little pony,\n His name was Dapple-gray,\n I lent him to a lady,\n To ride a mile away;\n She whipped him, she lashed him,\n She rode him through the mire;\n I would not lend my pony now\n For all the lady's hire.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I had a little doggy that used to sit and beg;\n But Doggy tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg.\n Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, and try to make you well,\n And you shall have a collar with a little silver bell.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Simple Simon met a pieman,\n Going to the fair;\n Says Simple Simon to the pieman,\n \"Let me taste your ware.\"\n\n Says the pieman to Simple Simon,\n \"Show me first your penny.\"\n Says Simple Simon to the pieman,\n \"Indeed I have not any.\"\n\n Simple Simon went a-fishing\n For to catch a whale;\n But all the water he could find\n Was in his mother's pail!\n\n * * * * *\n\n Jack and Jill went up the hill,\n To fetch a pail of water;\n Jack fell down, and broke his crown\n And Jill came tumbling after.\n\n Up Jack got and home did trot\n As fast as he could caper;\n Went to bed to mend his head\n With vinegar and brown paper.\n\n Jill came in and she did grin,\n To see his paper plaster,\n Mother, vexed, did whip her next,\n For causing Jack's disaster.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,\n The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,\n Where's the boy that looks after the sheep?\n He's under the haycock, fast asleep.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Old Mother Goose, when\n She wanted to wander,\n Would ride through the air\n On a very fine gander.\n\n Mother Goose had a house,\n 'T was built in a wood,\n Where an owl at the door\n For sentinel stood.\n\n She had a son Jack,\n A plain-looking lad;\n He was not very good,\n Nor yet very bad.\n\n She sent him to market,\n A live goose he bought:\n \"Here! mother,\" says he,\n \"It will not go for nought.\"\n\n Jack's goose and her gander\n Grew very fond;\n They'd both eat together,\n Or swim in one pond.\n\n Jack found one morning,\n As I have been told,\n His goose had laid him\n An egg of pure gold.\n\n Jack rode to his mother,\n The news for to tell.\n She called him a good boy,\n And said it was well.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Goosey, goosey, gander,\n Where shall I wander?\n Upstairs, downstairs,\n And in my lady's chamber.\n There I met an old man\n Who would not say his prayers;\n I took him by the left leg,\n And threw him downstairs.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I'll tell you a story\n About Mary Morey,\n And now my story's begun,\n I'll tell you another\n About her brother,\n And now my story's done.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Three wise men of Gotham,\n Went to sea in a bowl;\n If the bowl had been stronger,\n My song had been longer.\n\n * * * * *\n\n There was a crooked man,\n And he went a crooked mile,\n He found a crooked sixpence\n Upon a crooked stile:\n He bought a crooked cat,\n That caught a crooked mouse--\n And they all lived together\n In a little crooked house.\n\n * * * * *\n\n There was a man in our town,\n And he was wondrous wise,\n He jumped into a bramble bush,\n And scratched out both his eyes;\n But when he saw his eyes were out,\n With all his might and main,\n He jumped into another bush,\n And scratched 'em in again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Hey! diddle diddle,\n The cat and the fiddle,\n The cow jumped over the moon;\n The little dog laughed\n To see such sport,\n While the dish ran away with the spoon.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Hickory, dickory, dock,\n The mouse ran up the clock;\n The clock struck one,\n The mouse ran down,\n Hickory, dickory, dock.\n\n * * * * *\n\n There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,\n She had so many children she didn't know what to do;\n She gave them some broth without any bread,\n She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Little Miss Muffet\n Sat on a tuffet,\n Eating her curds and whey;\n There came a great spider,\n And sat down beside her,\n And frightened Miss Muffet away.\n\n * * * * *\n\n If all the seas were one sea,\n What a _great_ sea that would be!\n And if all the trees were one tree,\n What a _great_ tree that would be!\n And if all the axes were one axe,\n What a _great_ axe that would be!\n And if all the men were one man,\n What a _great_ man he would be!\n And if the _great_ man took the _great_ axe,\n And cut down the _great_ tree,\n And let it fall into the _great_ sea,\n What a splish splash _that_ would be!\n\n * * * * *\n\n There was an old man,\n And he had a calf,\n And that's half;\n\n He took him out of the stall,\n And tied him to the wall,\n And that's all.\n\n * * * * *\n\n The man in the wilderness asked me,\n How many strawberries grew in the sea?\n I answered him as I thought good,\n As many as red herrings grew in the wood\n\n * * * * *\n\n If all the world were apple-pie,\n And all the sea were ink,\n And all the trees were bread and cheese,\n What should we have for drink?\n\n * * * * *\n\n I saw a ship a-sailing,\n A-sailing on the sea;\n And it was full of pretty things\n For baby and for me.\n\n There were sweetmeats in the cabin,\n And apples in the hold;\n The sails were made of silk,\n And the masts were made of gold.\n\n The four-and-twenty sailors\n That stood between the decks,\n Were four-and-twenty white mice.\n With chains about their necks.\n\n The captain was a duck,\n With a packet on his back;\n And when the ship began to move,\n The captain cried, \"Quack, quack!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n My dear, do you know,\n How a long time ago,\n Two poor little children,\n Whose names I don't know,\n Were stolen away on a fine summer's day,\n And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.\n\n And when it was night,\n So sad was their plight!\n The sun it went down,\n And the moon gave no light!\n They sobbed and they sighed, and they bitterly cried\n And the poor little things, they lay down and died.\n\n And when they were dead,\n The robins so red,\n Brought strawberry-leaves\n And over them spread;\n And all the day long,\n They sung them this song:\n \"Poor babes in the wood! Poor babes in the wood!\n Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts\n All on a summer's day;\n The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts,\n And took them clean away.\n\n The King of Hearts called for the tarts,\n And beat the Knave full sore;\n The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts,\n And vowed he'd steal no more.\n\n * * * * *\n\n I had a little husband,\n No bigger than my thumb;\n I put him in a pint-pot,\n And there I bade him drum.\n\n I bought a little horse,\n That galloped up and down;\n I bridled him, and saddled\n And sent him out of town.\n\n I gave him little garters,\n To garter up his hose,\n And a little handkerchief,\n To wipe his little nose.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Sing a song of sixpence,\n A pocket full of rye;\n Four-and-twenty blackbirds\n Baked in a pie;\n\n When the pie was opened\n The birds began to sing;\n Was not that a dainty dish\n To set before the King?\n\n The King was in his counting-house,\n Counting out his money;\n The Queen was in the parlor,\n Eating bread and honey;\n\n The maid was in the garden\n Hanging out the clothes;\n When up came a blackbird,\n And nipped off her nose.\n\n * * * * *\n\n Little Bo-peep, she lost her sheep,\n And can't tell where to find them;\n Leave them alone, and they'll come home,\n And bring their tails behind them.\n\n Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,\n And dreamed she heard them bleating;\n When she awoke she found it a joke,\n For they still were all fleeting.\n\n Then up she took her little crook,\n Determined for to find them;\n She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,\n For they'd left their tails behind them!\n\n It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray,\n Unto a meadow hard by--\n There she espied their tails side by side,\n All hung on a tree to dry.\n\n She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,\n And over the hillocks she raced;\n And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,\n That each tail should be properly placed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n What are little boys made of, made of?\n What are little boys made of?\n Snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;\n And that's what little boys are made of, made of.\n\n What are little girls made of, made of?\n What are little girls made of?\n Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;\n And that's what little girls are made of, made of.\n\n * * * * *\n\n A farmer went trotting\n Upon his gray mare;\n Bumpety, bumpety, bump!\n With his daughter behind him,\n So rosy and fair;\n Lumpety, lumpety, lump!\n\n A raven cried \"Croak\";\n And they all tumbled down;\n Bumpety, bumpety, bump!\n The mare broke her knees,\n And the farmer his crown;\n Lumpety, lumpety, lump.\n\n The mischievous raven\n Flew laughing away;\n Bumpety, bumpety, bump!\n And vowed he would serve them\n The same the next day;\n Bumpety, bumpety, bump!\n\n * * * * *\n\n This is the way the ladies ride--\n Saddle-a-side, saddle-a-side!\n\n This is the way the gentlemen ride--\n Sitting astride, sitting astride!\n\n This is the way the grandmothers ride--\n Bundled and tied, bundled and tied!\n\n This is the way the babykins ride--\n Snuggled inside, snuggled inside!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nWHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY?\n\n What does little birdie say,\n In her nest at peep of day?\n \"Let me fly,\" says little birdie,\n \"Mother, let me fly away.\"\n\n Birdie, rest a little longer,\n Till the little wings are stronger.\n So she rests a little longer,\n Then she flies away.\n\n What does little baby say,\n In her bed at peep of day?\n Baby says, like little birdie,\n \"Let me rise and fly away.\"\n\n Baby, sleep a little longer,\n Till the little limbs are stronger.\n If she sleeps a little longer,\n Baby, too, shall fly away.\n\nALFRED, LORD TENNYSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nGOOD NIGHT\n\n Little baby, lay your head\n On your pretty cradle-bed;\n Shut your eye-peeps, now the day\n And the light are gone away;\n All the clothes are tucked in tight;\n Little baby dear, good night.\n\n Yes, my darling, well I know\n How the bitter wind doth blow;\n And the winter's snow and rain\n Patter on the window-pane:\n But they cannot come in here,\n To my little baby dear;\n\n For the window shutteth fast,\n Till the stormy night is past;\n And the curtains warm are spread\n Round about her cradle-bed:\n So till morning shineth bright,\n Little baby dear, good night.\n\nJANE TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nSWEET AND LOW\n\n Sweet and low, sweet and low,\n Wind of the western sea,\n Low, low, breathe and blow,\n Wind of the western sea!\n Over the rolling waters go,\n Come from the dying moon, and blow,\n Blow him again to me:\n While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.\n\n Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,\n Father will come to thee soon;\n Rest, rest, on mother's breast,\n Father will come to thee soon;\n Father will come to his babe in the nest,\n Silver sails all out of the west\n Under the silver moon:\n Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.\n\nALFRED, LORD TENNYSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nBABY-LAND\n\n Which is the way to Baby-Land?\n Any one can tell;\n Up one flight,\n To your right;\n Please to ring the bell.\n\n What can you see in Baby-Land?\n Little folks in white,\n Downy heads,\n Cradle-beds,\n Faces pure and bright.\n\n What do they do in Baby-Land?\n Dream and wake and play,\n Laugh and crow,\n Shout and grow,\n Jolly times have they.\n\n What do they say in Baby-Land?\n Why, the oddest things;\n Might as well\n Try to tell\n What a birdie sings.\n\n Who is the Queen of Baby-Land?\n Mother kind and sweet;\n And her love,\n Born above,\n Guides the little feet.\n\nGEORGE COOPER\n\n * * * * *\n\n Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard,\n To get her poor dog a bone.\n When she got there, the cupboard was bare,\n And so the poor dog had none.\n\n She went to the baker's to buy him some bread,\n But when she came back the poor dog was dead.\n\n She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin,\n And when she came back the dog was laughing.\n\n She went to the draper's to buy him some linen,\n And when she came back the good dog was spinning.\n\n She went to the hosier's to buy him some hose,\n And when she came back he was dressed in his clothes.\n\n The dame made a curtsy, the dog made a bow,\n The dame said \"your servant,\" the dog said \"Bow-wow.\"\n\n She went to the hatter's to buy him a hat,\n And when she came back he was feeding the cat.\n\n She went to the tailor's to buy him a coat,\n And when she came back he was riding the goat.\n\n She went to the barber's to buy him a wig,\n And when she came back he was dancing a jig.\n\n She went to the butcher's to get him some tripe,\n And when she came back he was smoking a pipe.\n\n She went to the fish-shop to buy him some fish,\n And when she came back he was washing the dish.\n\n She went to the tavern for white wine and red,\n And when she came back the dog stood on his head.\n\n * * * * *\n\n As I was going to St. Ives\n I met a man with seven wives;\n Every wife had seven sacks,\n Every sack had seven cats,\n Every cat had seven kits.\n Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,\n How many were going to St. Ives?\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nPOLLY\n\n Brown eyes, straight nose;\n Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.\n\n Torn books, spoilt toys:\n Arch looks, unlike a boy's;\n\n Little rages, obvious arts;\n (Three her age is), cakes, tarts;\n\n Falling down off chairs;\n Breaking crown down stairs;\n\n Catching flies on the pane;\n Deep sighs--cause not plain;\n\n Bribing you with kisses\n For a few farthing blisses.\n\n Wide-a-wake; as you hear,\n \"Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!\"\n\n New shoes, new frock;\n Vague views of what's o'clock\n\n When it's time to go to bed,\n And scorn sublime for what is said\n\n Folded hands, saying prayers,\n Understands not nor cares--\n\n Thinks it odd, smiles away;\n Yet may God hear her pray!\n\n Bed gown white, kiss Dolly;\n Good night!--that's Polly,\n\n Fast asleep, as you see,\n Heaven keep my girl for me!\n\nWILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nCRADLE HYMN\n\n Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;\n Holy angels guard thy bed;\n Heavenly blessings without number\n Gently falling on thy head.\n\n Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,\n House and home, thy friends provide;\n All without thy care, or payment,\n All thy wants are well supplied.\n\n How much better thou'rt attended\n Than the Son of God could be,\n When from heaven He descended,\n And became a child like thee!\n\n Soft and easy is thy cradle;\n Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,\n When His birthplace was a stable,\n And His softest bed was hay.\n\n See the kindly shepherds round him,\n Telling wonders from the sky!\n When they sought Him, there they found Him,\n With his Virgin-Mother by.\n\n See the lovely babe a-dressing;\n Lovely infant, how He smiled!\n When He wept, the mother's blessing\n Soothed and hushed the holy child.\n\n Lo, He slumbers in His manger,\n Where the honest oxen fed;\n --Peace, my darling! here's no danger!\n Here's no ox a-near thy bed!\n\n Mayst thou live to know and fear Him,\n Trust and love Him all thy days;\n Then go dwell forever near Him,\n See His face, and sing His praise!\n\n I could give thee thousand kisses,\n Hoping what I most desire;\n Not a mother's fondest wishes\n Can to greater joys aspire.\n\nISAAC WATTS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nI LIKE LITTLE PUSSY\n\n I like little Pussy,\n Her coat is so warm;\n And if I don't hurt her\n She'll do me no harm.\n So I'll not pull her tail,\n Nor drive her away,\n But Pussy and I\n Very gently will play;\n She shall sit by my side,\n And I'll give her some food;\n And she'll love me because\n I am gentle and good.\n\n I'll pat little Pussy,\n And then she will purr,\n And thus show her thanks\n For my kindness to her;\n I'll not pinch her ears,\n Nor tread on her paw,\n Lest I should provoke her\n To use her sharp claw;\n I never will vex her,\n Nor make her displeased,\n For Pussy can't bear\n To be worried or teased.\n\nJANE TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE GRAVEL PATH\n\n Baby mustn't frown,\n When she tumbles down;\n If the wind should change--Ah me,\n What a face her face would be!\n\n Rub away the dirt,\n Say she wasn't hurt;\n What a world 'twould be--O my,\n If all who fell began to cry!\n\nLAURENCE ALMA TADEMA\n\n * * * * *\n\n Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,\n Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;\n Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran;\n Said little Robin Redbreast, \"Catch me if you can.\"\n\n Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall,\n Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall;\n Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?\n Pussy-cat said naught but \"Mew,\" and Robin flew away.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nSLEEP, MY TREASURE\n\n Sleep, sleep, my treasure,\n The long day's pleasure\n Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep;\n The garden still is\n Alight with lilies,\n But all the daisies are fast asleep.\n\n Sleep, sleep, my darling,\n Dawn wakes the starling,\n The sparrow stirs when he sees day break;\n But all the meadow\n Is wrapped in shadow,\n And you must sleep till the daisies wake!\n\nE. NESBIT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nLULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF\n\n Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,\n Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;\n The woods and the glens from the tower which we see,\n They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.\n\n Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,\n It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;\n Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,\n Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.\n\n Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come,\n When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;\n Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,\n For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.\n\nSIR WALTER SCOTT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE ORPHAN'S SONG\n\n I had a little bird,\n I took it from the nest;\n I prest it and blest it,\n And nurst it in my breast.\n\n I set it on the ground,\n Danced round and round,\n And sang about it so cheerly,\n With \"Hey, my little bird,\n And ho! my little bird,\n And oh! but I love thee dearly!\"\n\n I make a little feast\n Of food soft and sweet,\n I hold it in my breast,\n And coax it to eat;\n\n I pit, and I pat,\n I call this and that,\n And I sing about so cheerly,\n With \"Hey, my little bird,\n And ho! my little bird,\n And oh! but I love thee dearly!\"\n\nSYDNEY DOBELL\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE DEATH AND BURIAL OF COCK ROBIN\n\n Who killed Cock Robin?\n \"I,\" said the Sparrow,\n \"With my bow and arrow,\n I killed Cock Robin.\"\n\n Who saw him die?\n \"I,\" said the Fly,\n \"With my little eye,\n I saw him die.\"\n\n Who caught his blood?\n \"I,\" said the Fish,\n \"With my little dish,\n I caught his blood.\"\n\n Who'll make his shroud?\n \"I,\" said the Beetle,\n \"With my thread and needle,\n I'll make his shroud.\"\n\n Who'll bear the torch?\n \"I,\" said the Linnet,\n \"I'll come in a minute,\n I'll bear the torch.\"\n\n Who'll be the clerk?\n \"I,\" said the Lark,\n \"I'll say Amen in the dark;\n I'll be the clerk.\"\n\n Who'll dig his grave?\n \"I,\" said the Owl,\n \"With my spade and trowel,\n I'll dig his grave.\"\n\n Who'll be the parson?\n \"I,\" said the Rook,\n \"With my little book,\n I'll be the parson.\"\n\n Who'll be chief mourner?\n \"I,\" said the Dove,\n \"I mourn for my love;\n I'll be chief mourner.\"\n\n Who'll sing his dirge?\n \"I,\" said the Thrush,\n \"As I sing in a bush,\n I'll sing his dirge.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nDO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARS?\n\n Do you know how many stars\n There are shining in the skies?\n Do you know how many clouds\n Ev'ry day go floating by?\n God in heaven has counted all,\n He would miss one should it fall.\n\n Do you know how many children\n Go to little beds at night,\n And without a care or sorrow,\n Wake up in the morning light?\n God in heaven each name can tell,\n Loves you, too, and loves you well.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nWHERE DO ALL THE DAISIES GO?\n\n Where do all the daisies go?\n I know, I know!\n Underneath the snow they creep,\n Nod their little heads and sleep,\n In the springtime out they peep;\n That is where they go!\n\n Where do all the birdies go?\n I know, I know!\n Far away from winter snow\n To the fair, warm South they go;\n There they stay till daisies blow,\n That is where they go!\n\n Where do all the babies go?\n I know, I know!\n In the glancing firelight warm,\n Safely sheltered from all harm,\n Soft they lie on mother's arm,\n That is where they go!\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n Cock crows in the morn,\n To tell us to rise,\n And he who lies late\n Will never be wise.\n For early to bed,\n And early to rise,\n Is the way to be healthy\n And wealthy and wise.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT\n\n This is the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the rat\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the cow with the crumpled horn\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the maiden all forlorn,\n That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the man all tattered and torn,\n That kissed the maiden all forlorn,\n That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the priest all shaven and shorn,\n That married the man all tattered and torn,\n That kissed the maiden all forlorn,\n That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the cock that crowed in the morn,\n That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,\n That married the man all tattered and torn,\n That kissed the maiden all forlorn,\n That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n This is the farmer sowing his corn,\n That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,\n That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,\n That married the man all tattered and torn,\n That kissed the maiden all forlorn,\n That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,\n That tossed the dog,\n That worried the cat,\n That killed the rat,\n That ate the malt\n That lay in the house that Jack built.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTREE ON THE HILL\n\n On yonder hill there stands a tree;\n Tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.\n\n And on the tree there was a branch;\n Branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill\n stood still.\n\n And on the branch there was a nest;\n Nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on\n the hill, and the hill stood still.\n\n And in the nest there was an egg;\n Egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on\n the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood\n still.\n\n And in the egg there was a bird;\n Bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the\n branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill,\n and the hill stood still.\n\n And on the bird there was a feather;\n Feather on the bird, bird in the egg, egg in the\n nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree,\n tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nA LITTLE BOY'S POCKET\n\n Do you know what's in my pottet?\n Such a lot of treasures in it!\n Listen now while I bedin it:\n Such a lot of sings it holds,\n And everysin dats in my pottet,\n And when, and where, and how I dot it.\n First of all, here's in my pottet\n A beauty shell, I pit'd it up:\n And here's the handle of a tup\n That somebody has broked at tea;\n The shell's a hole in it, you see:\n Nobody knows dat I dot it,\n I teep it safe here in my pottet.\n And here's my ball too in my pottet,\n And here's my pennies, one, two, free,\n That Aunty Mary dave to me,\n To-morrow day I'll buy a spade,\n When I'm out walking with the maid;\n I tant put that in here my pottet!\n But I can use it when I've dot it.\n Here's some more sings in my pottet,\n Here's my lead, and here's my string;\n And once I had an iron ring,\n But through a hole it lost one day,\n And this is what I always say--\n A hole's the worst sing in a pottet,\n Be sure and mend it when you've dot it.\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nNURSERY TALES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE BEARS\n\n\nLittle Goldilocks was a pretty girl who lived once upon a time in a\nfar-off country.\n\nOne day she was sitting on the hearthrug playing with her two kittens,\nand you would have thought she was as happy as a queen, and quite\ncontented to stay where she was instead of wanting to run about the\nworld meddling with other people's property. But it happened that she\nwas rather a mischievous little maid, and could not resist teasing her\npets, so one of them scratched her, and then she would play with them\nno longer.\n\nShe got up and trotted away into the wood behind her mother's house,\nand it was such a warm, pleasant day that she wandered on and on until\nshe came into a part of the wood where she had never been before.\n\nNow, in this wood there lived a family of three Bears. The first was\na GREAT BIG BEAR, the second was a MIDDLING-SIZED BEAR, and the third\nwas a LITTLE TEENY TINY BEAR, and they all lived together in a funny\nlittle house, and very happy they were.\n\nGoldilocks stopped when she came to the Bears' house, and began to\nwonder who lived there.\n\n\"I'll just look in and see,\" she said, and so she did; but there\nwas no one there, for the Bears had all gone out for a morning walk,\nwhilst the soup they were going to have for dinner cooled upon the\ntable.\n\nGoldilocks was rather hungry after her walk, and the soup smelt so\ngood that she began to wish the people of the house would come home\nand invite her to have some. But although she looked everywhere, under\nthe table and into the cupboards, she could find no one, and at last\nshe could resist no longer, but made up her mind to take just a little\nsip to see how the soup tasted. The soup had been put into three\nbowls--a Great Big Bowl for the Great Big Bear, a Middling-sized Bowl\nfor the Middling-sized Bear, and a Teeny Tiny Bowl for the Teeny Tiny\nBear; beside each bowl lay a spoon, and Goldilocks took one and helped\nherself to a spoonful of soup from the Great Big Bowl.\n\nUgh! how it burnt her mouth; it was so hot with pepper that she did\nnot like it at all; still, she was very hungry, so she thought she\nwould try again.\n\nThis time she took a sip of the Middling-sized Bear's soup, but she\nliked that no better, for it was too salt. But when she tasted the\nTeeny Tiny Bear's soup it was just as she liked it; so she ate it up\nevery drop, without thinking twice about it.\n\nWhen she had finished her dinner she noticed three chairs standing by\nthe wall. One was a Great Big Chair, and she climbed upon that and sat\ndown. Oh, dear! how hard it was! She was sure she could not sit\nthere for long, so she climbed up on the next, which was only a\nMiddling-sized Chair, but that was too soft for her taste; so she went\non to the last, which was a Teeny Tiny Chair and suited her exactly.\n\nIt was so comfortable that she sat on and on until, if you'll\nbelieve it, she actually sat the bottom out. Then, of course, she\nwas comfortable no longer, so she got up and began to wonder what she\nshould do next.\n\nThere was a staircase in the Bears' house, and Goldilocks thought she\nwould go up it and see where it led to. So up she went, and when she\nreached the top she laughed outright, for the Bears' bedroom was the\nfunniest she had ever seen. In the middle of the room stood a Great\nBig Bed, on one side of it there was a Middling-sized Bed, and on the\nother side there was a Teeny Tiny Bed.\n\nGoldilocks was sleepy, so she thought she would lie down and have a\nlittle nap. First she got upon the Great Big Bed, but it was just as\nhard as the Great Big Chair had been; so she jumped off and tried the\nMiddling-sized Bed, but it was so soft that she sank right down into\nthe feather cushions and was nearly smothered.\n\n\"I will try the Teeny Tiny Bed,\" she said, and so she did, and it was\nso comfortable that she soon fell fast asleep.\n\nWhilst she lay there, dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things, the\nthree Bears came home from their walk very hungry and quite ready for\ntheir dinners.\n\nBut, oh! dear me! how cross the Great Big Bear looked when he saw his\nspoon had been used and thrown under the table.\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MY SOUP?\" he cried, in a Great Big Voice.\n\n\"AND WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE?\" cried the Middling-sized Bear, in a\nMiddling-sized Voice.\n\n\"BUT WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE AND TASTED IT ALL UP?\" cried the poor\nlittle Teeny Tiny Bear in a Teeny Tiny Voice, with the tears running\ndown his Teeny Tiny Face.\n\nWhen the Great Big Bear went to sit down in his Great Big Chair, he\ncried out in his Great Big Voice:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?\"\n\nAnd the Middling-sized Bear cried, in a Middling-sized Voice:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?\"\n\nBut the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out in a Teeny Tiny Voice of anger:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR, AND SAT THE BOTTOM OUT?\"\n\nBy this time the Bears were sure that someone had been in their house\nquite lately; so they looked about to see if someone were not there\nstill.\n\nThere was certainly no one downstairs, so they went up the staircase\nto their bedroom.\n\nAs soon as the Great Big Bear looked at his bed, he cried out, in his\nGreat Big Voice:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?\"\n\nAnd the Middling-sized Bear, seeing that the coverlet was all rumpled,\ncried out, in a Middling-sized Voice:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?\"\n\nBut the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out, in a Teeny Tiny Voice of\nastonishment:\n\n\"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND LIES THERE STILL?\"\n\nNow, when the Great Big Bear began to speak, Goldilocks dreamt that\nthere was a bee buzzing in the room, and when the Middling-sized Bear\nbegan to speak, she dreamt that it was flying out of the window; but\nwhen the Teeny Tiny Bear began to speak, she dreamt that the bee\nhad come back and stung her on the ear, and up she jumped. Oh! how\nfrightened she was when she saw the three Bears standing beside her.\n\nShe hopped out of bed and in a second was out through the open window.\nNever stopping to wonder if the fall had hurt her, she got up and ran\nand ran and ran until she could go no farther, always thinking that\nthe Bears were close behind her. And when at length she fell down in a\nheap on the ground, because she was too tired to run any more, it was\nher own mother who picked her up, because in her fright she had run\nstraight home without knowing it.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCINDERELLA\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a noble gentleman who had one dear little\ndaughter. Poor child! her own kind mother was dead, and her father,\nwho loved her very dearly, was afraid that his little girl was\nsometimes lonely. So he married a grand lady who had two daughters\nof her own, and who, he thought, would be kind and good to his little\none. But no sooner did the stepmother enter her new home than she\nbegan to show her true character. Her stepdaughter was so much\nprettier and sweeter than her own children, that she was jealous of\nher, and gave her all the hard work of the house to do, whilst the two\nproud sisters spent their time at pleasant parties and entertainments.\n\nThe only pleasure the poor child had was to spend her evenings sitting\nin the chimney-corner, resting her weary limbs, and for this reason\nher sisters mockingly nicknamed her \"Cinderella.\" The sisters' fine\nclothes made Cinderella feel very shabby; but, in her little torn\nfrock and ragged shoes, she was a thousand times more lovely than\nthey.\n\nNow, it chanced that the King's son gave a grand ball, to which he\ninvited all the lords and ladies in the country, and, amongst the\nrest, Cinderella's two sisters were asked. How pleased and excited\nthey were when the invitation arrived! For days they could talk of\nnothing but the clothes they should wear and the grand folk they hoped\nto meet.\n\nWhen at last the great day arrived, Cinderella was kept running about\nfrom early till late, decking the sisters, and dressing their hair.\n\n\"Don't you wish you were going to the ball?\" said one of them.\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" sighed the poor little maid. The sisters burst out\nlaughing. \"A pretty spectacle _you_ would be,\" they said rudely. \"Go\nback to your cinders--they are fit company for rags.\" Then, stepping\ncarefully into their carriage so that they might not crush their fine\nclothes, they drove away to the ball.\n\nCinderella went back to her chimney-corner, and tried not to feel\nenvious, but the tears _would_ gather in the pretty eyes, and trickle\ndown the sorrowful little face.\n\n\"What are you crying for, child?\" cried a silvery voice.\n\nCinderella started, and raised her eyes. Who could it be? Then in a\nmoment she knew--it was her fairy Godmother!\n\n\"I do so want----\" began Cinderella; then her sobs stopped her.\n\n\"To go to the ball,\" finished the Godmother. Cinderella nodded. \"Well,\nleave off crying--be a good girl, and you shall go. Run quickly into\nthe garden, and bring the largest pumpkin you can find.\"\n\nCinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to go to the\nball, but her only thought was to obey her Godmother. In a few moments\nshe was back again, with a splendid pumpkin. Her Godmother scooped out\nthe inside--one touch of the wand, and the pumpkin was a golden coach,\nlined with white satin.\n\n\"Now, godchild, quick--the mouse-trap from the pantry!\"\n\n\"Here it is, Godmother,\" said Cinderella breathlessly.\n\nOne by one six fat sleek mice passed through the trap door. As each\nappeared, a touch of the wand transformed it into a cream-colored\nhorse, fit for a queen.\n\n\"Now, Cinderella, can you find a coachman?\"\n\n\"There is a large gray rat in the rat-trap--would he do, Godmother?\"\n\n\"Run and fetch him, child, and then I can judge,\" So Cinderella ran to\nfetch the rat, and her Godmother said he was just made for a coachman;\nand I think you would have agreed with her had you seen him a moment\nlater, with his powdered wig and silk stockings.\n\nSix lizards from behind the pumpkin-frame became six footmen in\nsplendid liveries--you would have thought they had been footmen all\ntheir lives. Cinderella was so excited that she could scarcely speak.\n\n\"Oh! Godmother,\" she cried, \"it is all so lovely!\" Then suddenly she\nthought of her shabby frock. \"There is my white muslin,\" she said\nwistfully, \"if--do you think----\"\n\nBut before Cinderella could realize what was happening, her\nGodmother's wand tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and in place of\nthe shabby frock, there was a gleam of satin, silver, and pearls.\n\nAh! who can describe a robe made by the fairies? It was white as snow,\nand as dazzling; round the hem hung a fringe of diamonds, sparkling\nlike dew-drops in the sunshine. The lace about the throat and arms\ncould only have been spun by fairy spiders. Surely it was a dream!\nCinderella put her daintily-gloved hand to her throat, and softly\ntouched the pearls that encircled her neck.\n\n\"Come, child,\" said the Godmother, \"or you will be late.\"\n\nAs Cinderella moved, the firelight shone upon her dainty shoes.\n\n\"They are of diamonds,\" she said.\n\n\"No,\" answered her Godmother, smiling; \"they are better than\nthat--they are of glass, made by the fairies. And now, child, go, and\nenjoy yourself to your heart's content. Only remember, if you stay at\nthe palace one instant after midnight, your coach and servants will\nvanish, and you will be the little gray Cinderella once more!\"\n\nA few moments later, the coach dashed into the royal courtyard, the\ndoor was flung open, and Cinderella alighted. As she walked slowly up\nthe richly-carpeted staircase, there was a murmur of admiration, and\nthe King's son hastened to meet her. \"Never,\" said he to himself,\n\"have I seen anyone so lovely!\" He led her into the ball-room, where\nthe King, who was much taken with her sweet face and pretty, modest\nmanners, whispered to the Queen that she must surely be a foreign\nPrincess.\n\nThe evening passed away in a dream of delight, Cinderella dancing with\nno one but the handsome young Prince, and being waited on by his own\nhands at supper-time. The two sisters could not recognize their ragged\nlittle sister in the beautiful and graceful lady to whom the Prince\npaid so much attention, and felt quite pleased and flattered when she\naddressed a few words to them.\n\nPresently a clock chimed the three quarters past eleven, and,\nremembering her Godmother's warning, Cinderella at once took leave of\nthe Prince, and, jumping into her coach, was driven rapidly home. Here\nshe found her Godmother waiting to hear all about the ball. \"It was\n_lovely_,\" said Cinderella; \"and oh! Godmother, there is to be another\nto-morrow night, and I _should_ so much like to go to it!\"\n\n\"Then you shall,\" replied the kind fairy, and, kissing her godchild\ntenderly, she vanished. When the sisters returned from the ball, they\nfound a sleepy little maiden sitting in the chimney-corner, waiting\nfor them.\n\n\"How late you are!\" cried Cinderella, yawning. \"Are you not very\ntired?\"\n\n\"Not in the least,\" they answered, and then they told her what a\ndelightful ball it had been, and how the loveliest Princess in the\nworld had been there, and had spoken to them, and admired their pretty\ndresses.\n\n\"Who was she?\" asked Cinderella slyly.\n\n\"That we cannot say,\" answered the sisters. \"She would not tell her\nname, though the Prince begged her to do so on bended knee.\"\n\n\"Dear sister,\" said Cinderella, \"I, too, should like to see the\nbeautiful Princess. Will you not lend me your old yellow gown, that I\nmay go to the ball to-morrow with you?\"\n\n\"What!\" cried her sister angrily; \"lend one of my dresses to a little\ncinder-maid? Don't talk nonsense, child!\"\n\nThe next night, the sisters were more particular than ever about their\nattire, but at last they were dressed, and as soon as their carriage\nhad driven away, the Godmother appeared. Once more she touched her\ngodchild with her wand, and in a moment she was arrayed in a beautiful\ndress that seemed as though it had been woven of moon-beams and\nsunshine, so radiantly did it gleam and shimmer. She put her arms\nround her Godmother's neck and kissed and thanked her. \"Goodbye,\nchildie; enjoy yourself, but whatever you do, remember to leave\nthe ball before the clock strikes twelve,\" the Godmother said, and\nCinderella promised.\n\nBut the hours flew by so happily and so swiftly that Cinderella forgot\nher promise, until she happened to look at a clock and saw that it was\non the stroke of twelve. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room,\ndropping, in her haste, one of the little glass slippers; but, with\nthe sound of the clock strokes in her ears, she dared not wait to pick\nit up. The Prince hurried after her in alarm, but when he reached the\nentrance hall, the beautiful Princess had vanished, and there was no\none to be seen but a forlorn little beggar-maid creeping away into the\ndarkness.\n\nPoor little Cinderella!--she hurried home through the dark streets,\nweary, and overwhelmed with shame.\n\nThe fire was out when she reached her home, and there was no Godmother\nwaiting to receive her; but she sat down in the chimney-corner to wait\nher sisters' return. When they came in they could speak of nothing but\nthe wonderful things that had happened at the ball.\n\nThe beautiful Princess had been there again, they said, but had\ndisappeared just as the clock struck twelve, and though the Prince had\nsearched everywhere for her, he had been unable to find her. \"He was\nquite beside himself with grief,\" said the elder sister, \"for there is\nno doubt he hoped to make her his bride.\"\n\nCinderella listened in silence to all they had to say, and, slipping\nher hand into her pocket, felt that the one remaining glass slipper\nwas safe, for it was the only thing of all her grand apparel that\nremained to her.\n\nOn the following morning there was a great noise of trumpets and\ndrums, and a procession passed through the town, at the head of\nwhich rode the King's son. Behind him came a herald, bearing a velvet\ncushion, upon which rested a little glass slipper. The herald blew a\nblast upon the trumpet, and then read a proclamation saying that the\nKing's son would wed any lady in the land who could fit the slipper\nupon her foot, if she could produce another to match it.\n\nOf course, the sisters tried to squeeze their feet into the slipper,\nbut it was of no use--they were much too large. Then Cinderella shyly\nbegged that she might try. How the sisters laughed with scorn when the\nPrince knelt to fit the slipper on the cinder-maid's foot; but what\nwas their surprise when it slipped on with the greatest ease, and the\nnext moment Cinderella produced the other from her pocket. Once more\nshe stood in the slippers, and once more the sisters saw before them\nthe lovely Princess who was to be the Prince's bride. For at the touch\nof the magic shoes, the little gray frock disappeared for ever, and in\nplace of it she wore the beautiful robe the fairy Godmother had given\nto her.\n\nThe sisters hung their heads with sorrow and vexation; but kind little\nCinderella put her arms round their necks, kissed them, and forgave\nthem for all their unkindness, so that they could not help but love\nher.\n\nThe Prince could not bear to part from his little love again, so\nhe carried her back to the palace in his grand coach, and they were\nmarried that very day. Cinderella's stepsisters were present at the\nfeast, but in the place of honor sat the fairy Godmother.\n\nSo the poor little cinder-maid married the Prince, and in time they\ncame to be King and Queen, and lived happily ever after.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE BROTHERS\n\n\nThere was once a man who had three sons, but no fortune except the\nhouse he lived in. Now, each of them wanted to have the house after\nhis death; but their father was just as fond of one as of the other,\nand did not know how to treat them all fairly. He did not want to sell\nthe house, because it had belonged to his forefathers, or he might\nhave divided the money between them.\n\nAt last an idea came into his head, and he said to his sons: \"Go out\ninto the world, and each learn a trade, and when you come home, the\none who makes best use of his handicraft shall have the house.\"\n\nThe sons were quite content with this plan, and the eldest decided\nto be a farrier, the second a barber, and the third a fencing master.\nThey fixed a time when they would all meet at home again, and then\nthey set off.\n\nIt so happened that they each found a clever master with whom they\nlearned their business thoroughly. The farrier shod the King's horses,\nand he thought, \"I shall certainly be the one to have the house.\"\n\nThe barber shaved nobody but grand gentlemen, so he thought it would\nfall to him.\n\nThe fencing master got many blows, but he set his teeth, and would not\nlet himself be put out, because he thought, \"If I am afraid of a blow,\nI shall never get the house.\"\n\nNow, when the given time had passed, they all went home together to\ntheir father; but they did not know how to get a good opportunity of\nshowing off their powers, and sat down to discuss the matter.\n\nSuddenly a hare came running over the field.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried the barber, \"she comes just in the nick of time.\"\n\nHe took up his bowl and his soap, and got his lather by the time the\nhare came quite close, then he soaped her and shaved her as she raced\nalong, without giving her a cut or missing a single hair. His father,\nastonished, said: \"If the others don't look out, the house will be\nyours.\"\n\nBefore long a gentleman came along in his carriage at full gallop.\n\n\"Now, father, you shall see what I can do,\" said the farrier and he\nran after the carriage and tore the four shoes off the horse as he\ngalloped along, then, without stopping a second, shod him with new\nones.\n\n\"You are a fine fellow, indeed,\" said his father. \"You know your\nbusiness as well as your brother. I don't know which I shall give the\nhouse to at this rate.\"\n\nThen the third one said: \"Let me have a chance, too, father.\"\n\nAs it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword and swirled it round\nand round his head, so that not a drop fell on him. Even when the rain\ngrew heavier, so heavy that it seemed as if it were being poured from\nthe sky out of buckets, he swung the sword faster and faster, and\nremained as dry as if he had been under a roof.\n\nHis father was amazed, and said: \"You have done the best; the house is\nyours.\"\n\nBoth the other brothers were quite satisfied with this decision, and\nas they were all so devoted to one another, they lived together in\nthe house, and carried on their trades, by which they made plenty of\nmoney, since they were so perfect in them.\n\nThey lived happily together to a good old age, and when one fell ill\nand died, the others grieved so much over him that they pined away and\nsoon after departed this life.\n\nThen, as they had been so fond of one another, they were all buried in\none grave.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WREN AND THE BEAR\n\n\nOne summer's day the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest, and\nthe bear heard a bird singing very sweetly, and said: \"Brother Wolf,\nwhat kind of bird is that which is singing so delightfully?\"\n\n\"That is the King of the birds, before whom we must do reverence,\"\nreplied the wolf; but it was only the wren.\n\n\"If that be so,\" said the bear, \"I should like to see his royal\npalace; come, lead me to it.\" \"That cannot be as you like,\" replied\nthe wolf. \"You must wait till the Queen returns.\" Soon afterward the\nQueen arrived with some food in her bill, and the King, too, to feed\ntheir young ones, and the bear would have gone off to see them, but\nthe wolf, pulling his ear, said: \"No, you must wait till the Queen and\nthe King are both off again.\"\n\nSo, after observing well the situation of the nest, the two tramped\noff, but the bear had no rest, for he wished still to see the royal\npalace, and after a short delay he set off to it again. He found the\nKing and Queen absent, and, peeping into the nest, he saw five or six\nyoung birds lying in it. \"Is this the royal palace?\" exclaimed the\nbear; \"this miserable place! You are no King's children, but wretched\nyoung vagabonds.\" \"No, no, that we are not!\" burst out the little\nwrens together in a great passion, for to them this speech was\naddressed. \"No, no, we are born of honorable parents, and you, Mr.\nBear, shall make your words good!\" At this speech the bear and the\nwolf were much frightened, and ran back to their holes; but the little\nwrens kept up an unceasing, clamor till their parents' return. As soon\nas they came back with food in their mouths the little birds began,\n\"We will none of us touch a fly's leg, but will starve rather, until\nyou decide whether we are fine and handsome children or not, for the\nbear has been here and insulted us!\"\n\n\"Be quiet,\" replied the King, \"and that shall soon be settled.\" And\nthereupon he flew with his Queen to the residence of the bear, and\ncalled to him from the entrance, \"Old grumbler, why have you insulted\nmy children? That shall cost you dear, for we will decide the matter\nby a pitched battle.\"\n\nWar having thus been declared against the bear, all the four-footed\nbeasts were summoned: the ox, the ass, the cow, the goat, the stag,\nand every animal on the face of the earth. The wren, on the other\nhand, summoned every flying thing; not only the birds, great and\nsmall, but also the gnat, the hornet, the bee, and the flies.\n\nWhen the time arrived for the commencement of the war, the wren King\nsent out spies to see who was appointed commander-in-chief of\nthe enemy. The gnat was the most cunning of all the army, and he,\ntherefore, buzzed away into the forest where the enemy was encamped,\nand alighted on a leaf of the tree beneath which the watchword was\ngiven out. There stood the bear and called the fox to him, and said:\n\"You are the most crafty of animals, so you must be general, and lead\nus on.\" \"Well,\" said the fox, \"but what sign shall we appoint?\" Nobody\nanswered. Then the fox said: \"I have a fine long bushy tail, which\nlooks like a red feather at a distance; if I hold this tail straight\nup, all is going well and you must march after me; but if I suffer it\nto hang down, run away as fast as you can.\" As soon as the gnat heard\nall this she flew home and told the wren King everything to a hair.\n\nWhen the day arrived for the battle to begin, the four-footed beasts\nall came running along to the field, shaking the earth with their\nroaring and bellowing. The wren King also came with his army, whirring\nand buzzing and humming enough to terrify any one out of his senses.\nThen the wren King sent the hornet forward to settle upon the fox's\ntail and sting it with all his power. As soon as the fox felt the\nfirst sting he drew up his hind leg with the pain, still carrying,\nhowever, his tail as high in the air as before; at the second sting\nhe was obliged to drop it a little bit; but at the third he could\nno longer bear the pain, but was forced to drop his tail between his\nlegs. As soon as the other beasts saw this, they thought all was lost,\nand began to run each one to his own hole; so the birds won the battle\nwithout difficulty.\n\nWhen all was over the wren King and his Queen flew home to their\nchildren, and cried out: \"Rejoice! rejoice! we have won the battle;\nnow eat and drink as much as you please.\"\n\nThe young wrens, however, said: \"Still we will not eat till the bear\nhas come to our nest and begged pardon, and admitted that we are fine\nand handsome children.\"\n\nSo the wren King flew back to the cave of the bear, and called out,\n\"Old grumbler, you must come to the nest and beg pardon of my children\nfor calling them wretched young brats, else your ribs shall be crushed\nin your body!\"\n\nIn great terror the bear crept out and begged pardon; and afterward\nthe young wrens, being now made happy in their minds, settled down to\neating and drinking, and I am afraid they were over-excited and kept\nup their merriment far too late.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCHICKEN-LICKEN\n\n\nAs Chicken-licken was going one day to the wood, whack! an acorn fell\nfrom a tree on to his head.\n\n\"Gracious goodness me!\" said Chicken-licken, \"the sky must have\nfallen; I must go and tell the King.\"\n\nSo Chicken-licken turned back, and met Hen-len.\n\n\"Well, Hen-len, where are you going?\" said he.\n\n\"I'm going to the wood,\" said she.\n\n\"Oh, Hen-len, don't go!\" said he, \"for as I was going the sky fell on\nto my head, and I'm going to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Hen-len turned back with Chicken-licken, and met Cock-lock.\n\n\"I'm going to the wood,\" said he.\n\nThen Hen-len said: \"Oh Cock-lock, don't go, for I was going, and I met\nChicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky\nhad fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Cock-lock turned back, and they met Duck-luck.\n\n\"Well, Duck-luck, where are you going?\"\n\nAnd Duck-luck said: \"I'm going to the wood.\"\n\nThen Cock-lock said: \"Oh! Duck-luck, don't go, for I was going, and\nI met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had\nbeen at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are\ngoing to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Duck-luck turned back, and met Drake-lake.\n\n\"Well, Drake-lake, where are you going?\"\n\nAnd Drake-lake said: \"I'm going to the wood.\"\n\nThen Duck-luck said: \"Oh! Drake-lake, don't go, for I was going, and\nI met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met\nChicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky\nhad fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Drake-lake turned back, and met Goose-loose.\n\n\"Well, Goose-loose, where are you going?\"\n\nAnd Goose-loose said: \"I'm going to the wood.\"\n\nThen Drake-lake said: \"Oh, Goose-loose, don't go, for I was going,\nand I met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met\nHen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been\nat the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going\nto tell the King.\"\n\nSo Goose-loose turned back, and met Gander-lander.\n\n\"Well, Gander-lander, where are you going?\"\n\nAnd Gander-lander said: \"I'm going to the wood.\"\n\nThen Goose-loose said: \"Oh! Gander-lander, don't go, for I was going,\nand I met Drake-lake, and Drake-lake met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met\nCock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken,\nand Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to\nhis head, and we are going to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Gander-lander turned back, and met Turkey-lurkey.\n\n\"Well, Turkey-lurkey, where are you going?\"\n\nAnd Turkey-lurkey said: \"I'm going to the wood.\"\n\nThen Gander-lander said: \"Oh! Turkey-lurkey, don't go, for I was\ngoing, and I met Goose-loose, and Goose-loose met Drake-lake, and\nDrake-lake met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock\nmet Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had\nbeen at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are\ngoing to tell the King.\"\n\nSo Turkey-lurkey turned back, and walked with Gander-lander,\nGoose-loose, Drake-lake, Duck-luck, Cock-lock, Hen-len, and\nChicken-licken.\n\nAnd as they were going along, they met Fox-lox. And Fox-lox said:\n\n\"Where are you going?\"\n\nAnd they said: \"Chicken-licken went to the wood, and the sky fell on\nto his head, and we are going to tell the King.\"\n\nAnd Fox-lox said: \"Come along with me, and I will show you the way.\"\n\nBut Fox-lox took them into the fox's hole, and he and his young\nones soon ate up poor Chicken-licken, Hen-len, Cock-lock, Duck-luck,\nDrake-lake, Goose-loose, Gander-lander, and Turkey-lurkey; and they\nnever saw the King to tell him that the sky had fallen.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CAT\n\n\nIt happened once that the cat met Mr. Fox in the wood, and because she\nthought he was clever and experienced in all the ways of the world,\nshe addressed him in a friendly manner.\n\n\"Good-morning, dear Mr. Fox! how are you, and how do you get along in\nthese hard times?\"\n\nThe fox, full of pride, looked at the cat from head to foot for some\ntime, hardly knowing whether he would deign to answer or not. At last\nhe said:\n\n\"Oh, you poor whisker-wiper, you silly piebald, you starveling\nmouse-hunter! what has come into your head? How dare you ask me how I\nam getting on? What sort of education have you had? How many arts are\nyou master of?\"\n\n\"Only one,\" said the cat meekly.\n\n\"And what might that one be?\" asked the fox.\n\n\"When the dogs run after me, I can jump into a tree and save myself.\"\n\n\"Is that all?\" said the fox. \"I am master of a hundred arts, and I\nhave a sackful of cunning tricks in addition. But I pity you. Come\nwith me, and I will teach you how to escape from the dogs.\"\n\nJust then a huntsman came along with four hounds. The cat sprang\ntrembling into a tree, and crept stealthily up to the topmost branch,\nwhere she was entirely hidden by twigs and leaves.\n\n\"Open your sack, Mr. Fox! open your sack!\" cried the cat, but the dogs\nhad gripped him, and held him fast.\n\n\"Oh, Mr. Fox!\" cried the cat, \"you with your hundred arts, and your\nsackful of tricks, are held fast, while I, with my one, am safe. Had\nyou been able to creep up here, you would not have lost you life.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE RATS AND THEIR SON-IN-LAW\n\n\nThere once lived in Japan a rat and his wife, folk of noble race, who\nhad one beautiful daughter. They were exceedingly proud of her charms,\nand dreamed, as parents will, of the grand marriage she was sure\nto make in time. Proud of his pure rodent blood, the father saw no\nson-in-law more to be desired than a young rat of ancient lineage,\nwhose attentions to his daughter were very marked. This match,\nhowever, brilliant as it was, seemed not to the mother's taste. Like\nmany people who think themselves made out of special clay, she had a\nvery poor opinion of her own kind, and was ambitious for an alliance\nwith the highest circles. To the stars! was her motto, she always\nsaid, and really, when one has a daughter of incomparable beauty, one\nmay well hope for an equally incomparable son-in-law.\n\n\"Address yourself to the sun at once, then,\" cried the impatient\nfather one day; \"there is nothing above him, surely.\"\n\n\"Quite so; I had already thought of it,\" she answered, \"and since you,\ntoo, are in sympathy with the idea, we will make our call to-morrow.\"\n\nSo, on the following morning the proud father and the haughty\nmother-rat went together to present their lovely daughter to the orb\nof day.\n\n\"Lord Sun,\" said the mother, \"let me present our only daughter, who\nis so beautiful that there is nothing like her in the whole world.\nNaturally we desire a son-in-law as wonderful as she, and, as you see,\nwe have come to you first of all.\"\n\n\"Really,\" said the sun, \"I am extremely flattered by your proposal,\nbut you do me too much honor; there is some one greater than I; it is\nthe cloud. Look, if you do not believe.\"... And at that moment the\ncloud arrived, and with one waft of his folds extinguished the sun\nwith all his golden rays.\n\n\"Very well; let us speak to the cloud, then,\" said the mother-rat, not\nin the least disconcerted.\n\n\"Immensely honored, I am sure,\" replied the cloud in his turn, \"but\nyou are again mistaken; there is some one greater than I; it is the\nwind. You shall see.\"\n\nAt the same moment along came the wind, and with one blow swept the\ncloud out of sight, after which, overturning father, mother, and\ndaughter, he tumbled with them, pell-mell, at the foot of an old wall.\n\n\"Quick, quick,\" cried the mother-rat, struggling to her feet, \"and let\nus repeat our compliments to the wind.\"\n\n\"You'd better address yourself to the wall,\" growled the wind roughly.\n\"You see very well he is greater than I, for he stops me and makes me\ndraw back.\"\n\nNo sooner had she heard these words than mother-rat faced about and\npresented her daughter to the wall. Ah, but now the fair rat-maiden\nimitated the wind; she drew back also. He whom she really adored in\nher heart of hearts was the fascinating young rat who had paid his\ncourt to her so well. However, to please her mother, she had consented\nto wed the Sun, in spite of his blinding rays, or the cloud, in spite\nof his sulky look, even the wind, in spite of his brusque manner; but\nan old, broken wall!... No! death would be better a thousand times.\n\nFortunately the wall excused himself, like all the rest. \"Certainly,\"\nhe said, \"I can stop the wind, who can sweep away the cloud, who can\ncover up the Sun, but there is some one greater than I: it is the rat,\nwho can pass through my body, and can even, if he chooses, reduce\nme to powder with his teeth. Believe me, you need seek no better\nson-in-law; greater than the rat, there is nothing in the world.\"\n\n\"Do you hear that, wife, do you hear it?\" cried father-rat in triumph.\n\"Didn't I always say so?\"\n\n\"Quite true! you always did,\" returned the mother-rat in wonder, and\nsuddenly glowed with pride in her ancient name and lineage.\n\nSo they all three went home, very happy and contented, and on the\nmorrow the lovely rat-maiden married her faithful rat-lover.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOUSE AND THE SAUSAGE\n\n\nOnce upon a time a little mouse and a little sausage, who loved\neach other like sisters, decided to live together, and made their\narrangements in such a way that every day one would go to walk in the\nfields, or make purchases in town, while the other remained at home to\nkeep the house.\n\nOne day, when the little sausage had prepared cabbage for dinner,\nthe little mouse, who had come back from town with a fine appetite,\nenjoyed it so greatly that she exclaimed: \"How delicious the cabbage\nis to-day, my dear!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" answered the little sausage, \"that is because I popped myself\ninto the pot while it was cooking.\"\n\nOn the next day, as it was her turn to prepare the meals, the little\nmouse said to herself: \"Now I will do as much for my friend as she did\nfor me; we will have lentils for dinner, and I will jump into the\npot while they are boiling,\" and she let the action follow the word,\nwithout reflecting that a simple sausage can do some things which are\nout of the reach of even the wisest mouse.\n\nWhen the sausage came home, she found the house lonely and silent. She\ncalled again and again, \"My little mouse! Mouse of my heart!\" but no\none answered. Then she went to look at the lentils boiling on the\nstove, and, alas! found within the pot her good little friend, who had\nperished at the post of duty.\n\nPoor mousie, with the best intentions in the world, had stayed too\nlong at her cookery, and when she desired to climb out of the pot, had\nno longer the strength to do so.\n\nAnd the poor sausage could never be consoled! That is why to-day, when\nyou put one in the pan or on the gridiron, you will hear her weep and\nsigh, \"M-my p-poor m-mouse! Ah, m-my p-poor m-mouse!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJOHNNY AND THE GOLDEN GOOSE\n\n\nThere was once a man who had three sons. Johnny, the youngest, was\nalways looked upon as the simpleton of the family, and had very little\nconsideration or kindness shown him.\n\nIt happened one day that the eldest son was going out into the wood to\ncut fuel; and before he started, his mother gave him a slice of rich\nplum-cake and a flask of wine, so that he might not suffer from hunger\nor thirst.\n\nJust as he reached the wood, he met a queer old man, dressed in gray,\nwho wished him \"Good day,\" and begged for a piece of the young man's\ncake and a drink of wine.\n\nBut the greedy youth replied: \"If I were to give you cake and wine, I\nshould not have enough left for myself; so be off with you, and leave\nme in peace.\"\n\nThen he pushed the little man rudely on one side and went his way. He\nsoon came to a likely-looking tree, and began to hew it down, but he\nmade a false stroke, and instead of striking the tree he buried his\naxe in his own arm, and was obliged to hurry home as fast as he could\nto have the wound dressed.\n\nAnd this was what came of offending the little gray man!\n\nThe following day the second son set out to the wood, and his mother\ntreated him just as she had done her eldest son--gave him a slice of\ncake and a flask of wine, in case he should feel hungry. The little\ngray man met him at the entrance to the wood, and begged for a share\nof his food, but the young man answered:\n\n\"The more I give to you, the less I have for myself. Be off with you.\"\n\nThen he left the little gray man standing in the road, and went on his\nway. But it was not long before he, too, was punished; for the first\nstroke he aimed at a tree glanced aside and wounded his leg, so that\nhe was obliged to be carried home.\n\nThen said the Simpleton: \"Father, let me go to the wood for once. _I_\nwill bring you home plenty of fuel.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" answered the father. \"Both your brothers have got into\ntrouble, and it is not likely that I am going to trust you.\"\n\nBut Johnny would not give up the idea, and worried his father, till at\nlast he said:\n\n\"Very well, my son, have your own way. You shall learn by experience\nthat I know better than you.\"\n\nThere was no rich cake for the simpleton of the family. His mother\njust gave him a little loaf of dough and a bottle of sour beer.\n\nNo sooner did he reach the wood than the little gray man appeared.\n\n\"Give me a piece of your cake and a drink of your wine?\" said he.\n\nBut the young man told him he had only a dough loaf and a bottle of\nsour beer.\n\n\"Still,\" said he, \"you are welcome to a share of the food, such as it\nis.\"\n\nSo the two sat down together; but when Johnny took his humble fare\nfrom his pocket, what was his surprise to find it changed into the\nmost delicious cake and wine. Then the young man and his guest made a\nhearty meal, and when it was ended the little gray man said:\n\n\"Because you have such a kind heart, and have willingly shared your\nfood with me, I am going to reward you. Yonder stands an old tree: hew\nit down, and deep in the heart of the roots you will find something.\"\n\nThe old man then nodded kindly, and disappeared in a moment.\n\nJohnny at once did as he had been told, and as soon as the tree fell\nhe saw, sitting in the midst of the roots, a goose with feathers of\npurest gold. He lifted it carefully out, and carried it with him to\nthe inn, where he meant to spend the night.\n\nNow, the landlord had three daughters, and no sooner did they see the\ngoose than they wanted to know what curious kind of bird it might be,\nfor never before had they seen a fowl of any kind with feathers of\npure gold. The eldest made up her mind to wait for a good opportunity\nand then pluck a feather for herself. So as soon as Johnny went out\nof the room she put out her hand and seized the wing of the goose,\nbut what was her horror to find that she could not unclasp her fingers\nagain, nor even move her hand from the golden goose!\n\nVery soon the second sister came creeping into the room, meaning also\nto steal a feather; but no sooner did she touch her sister than she,\ntoo, was unable to draw her hand away.\n\nLastly came the third, anxious to secure a feather before the goose's\nmaster returned.\n\n\"Go away! go away!\" screamed her two sisters, but she could not\nunderstand why she should not help herself as well as the others.\n\nSo she paid no heed to their cries, but came toward them and stretched\nout her hand to the goose.\n\nIn doing so she touched her second sister, and then, alas! she too,\nwas held fast.\n\nThey pulled and tugged with might and main, but it was all of no use;\nthey could not get away, and there they had to remain the whole night.\n\nThe next morning Johnny tucked the goose under his arm, and went on\nhis way, never troubling himself about the three girls hanging on\nbehind.\n\nThen what a dance he led them: over hedges and ditches, highways and\nbyways! Wherever he led they were bound to follow. Half way across a\nsunny meadow, they met the parson, who was terribly shocked to see the\nthree girls running after a young man.\n\n\"For shame!\" he cried angrily, and seized the youngest by the hand to\ndrag her away.\n\nBut no sooner did he touch her than the poor parson was made fast too,\nand had to run behind the girls, whether he would or no.\n\nThey had scarcely gone half a dozen paces before they met the sexton,\nwho stared with astonishment to see his master running at the heels of\nthe three girls.\n\n\"Hi! stop, your reverence,\" he cried. \"You will be late for the\nchristening.\"\n\nHe seized the parson's sleeve as he ran past him, but the poor sexton\nhad to join the procession too.\n\nSo now there were five of them, and just as they turned a corner the\nparson saw two peasants, and called to them to set him and his sexton\nfree.\n\nThey threw down their spades at once and tried to do so, but they too,\nstuck fast, and so Johnny had a fine string of seven folk hanging on\nto the wing of his golden goose.\n\nOn and on they ran, until at length they came into the country of a\npowerful King.\n\nThis King had an only daughter, who all her life had been so sad that\nno one had ever been able to make her laugh. So the King made a decree\nthat the man who could bring a smile to his daughter's face should\nhave her for his bride.\n\nWhen Johnny heard what the King had promised, he at once made his way\ninto the Princess's presence, and when she saw the goose, with the\nseven queer-looking companions hanging on behind, she burst into such\na hearty fit of laughter that it was thought she would never be able\nto stop again.\n\nOf course, the Simpleton claimed her as his bride, but the King did\nnot fancy him for a son-in-law, so he made all sorts of excuses.\n\n\"You shall have her,\" said he, \"if you can first bring me a man who can\ndrink up a whole cellarful of wine.\"\n\nJohnny at once remembered the little gray man, and, feeling sure that\nhe would help him, he set out for the wood where he had first met him.\n\nWhen he reached the stump of the old tree which he had himself hewn\ndown, he noticed a man sitting beside it, with a face as gloomy as a\nrainy day.\n\nJohnny asked politely what ailed him, and the man answered:\n\n\"I suffer from a thirst I cannot quench. Cold water disagrees with\nme, and though I have, it is true, emptied a barrel of wine, it was no\nmore to me than a single drop of water upon a hot stone.\"\n\nYou can think how pleased Johnny was to hear these words. He took\nthe man to the King's cellar, where he seated himself before the huge\nbarrels, and drank and drank till, at the end of the day, not a drop\nof wine was left.\n\nThen Johnny claimed his bride, but the King could not make up his mind\nto give his daughter to \"a ne'er-do-weel\" who went by such a name as\n\"Simpleton.\"\n\nSo he made fresh excuses, and said that he would not give her up until\nthe young man had found someone who could eat up a mountain of bread\nin a single day.\n\nSo the young man had no choice but to set out once more for the wood.\n\nAnd again he found a man sitting beside the stump of the tree. He was\nvery sad and hungry-looking, and sat tightening the belt round his\nwaist.\n\n\"I have eaten a whole ovenful of bread,\" he said sadly, \"but when one\nis as hungry as I am, such a meal only serves to make one more hungry\nstill. I am so empty that if I did not tighten my belt I should die of\nhunger.\"\n\n\"You are the man for me!\" said Johnny. \"Follow me, and I will give you\na meal that will satisfy even your hunger.\"\n\nHe led the man into the courtyard of the King's palace, where all\nthe meal in the kingdom had been collected together and mixed into an\nenormous mountain of bread.\n\nThe man from the wood placed himself in front of it and began to eat,\nand before the day was over the mountain of bread had vanished.\n\nA third time the Simpleton demanded his bride, but again the King\nfound an excuse.\n\n\"First bring me a ship that can sail both on land and sea, and then\nyou shall wed the Princess,\" he said.\n\nJohnny went straightway to the wood, where he met the little gray man\nwith whom he had once shared his food.\n\n\"Good day,\" he said, nodding his wise little head. \"So you've come to\nvisit me again, eh? It was I, you know, who drank the wine and ate the\nbread for you, and now I will finish by giving you the wonderful ship\nwhich is to sail on either land or sea. All this I do for you because\nyou were kind and good to me.\"\n\nThen he gave him the ship, and when the King saw it he could find no\nfurther excuse.\n\nSo he gave the young man his daughter, and the pair were married that\nvery day.\n\nWhen the old King died, the Simpleton became King in his stead, and he\nand his wife lived happily ever after.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE\n\n\n Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house,\n Titty Mouse went a-leasing and Tatty Mouse went a-leasing,\n So they both went a-leasing.\n Titty Mouse leased an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse leased an ear of corn,\n So they both leased an ear of corn.\n Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding,\n So they both made a pudding.\n And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil,\n But, when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and\n scalded her to death.\n\nThen Tatty sat down and wept, and a three-legged stool said: \"Tatty,\nwhy do you weep?\" \"Titty's dead,\" said Tatty, \"and so I weep.\" \"Then,\"\nsaid the stool, \"I'll hop.\" So the stool hopped.\n\nThen a broom in the corner of the room said: \"Stool, why do you hop?\"\n\"Oh!\" said the stool, \"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop.\"\n\"Then,\" said the broom, \"I'll sweep.\" So the broom began to sweep.\n\n\"Then,\" said the door, \"Broom, why do you sweep?\" \"Oh!\" said the\nbroom, \"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and so I\nsweep.\" \"Then,\" said the door, \"I'll jar.\" So the door jarred.\n\n\"Then,\" said the window, \"Door, why do you jar?\" \"Oh!\" said the door,\n\"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom\nsweeps, and so I jar.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the window, \"I'll creak.\" So the window creaked. Now\nthere was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked,\nthe form said: \"Window, why do you creak?\" \"Oh!\" said the window,\n\"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom\nsweeps, the door jars, and so I creak.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the old form, \"I'll run round the house.\" Then the old\nform ran round the house. Now there was a fine large walnut-tree\ngrowing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form: \"Form, why\ndo you run round the house?\" \"Oh!\" said the form, \"Titty's dead, and\nTatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars,\nand the window creaks, and so I run round the house.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the walnut-tree, \"I'll shed my leaves.\" So the\nwalnut-tree shed all its beautiful green leaves. Now there was a\nlittle bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all\nthe leaves fell, it said: \"Walnut-tree, why do you shed your leaves?\"\n\"Oh!\" said the tree, \"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops,\nand the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old\nform runs round the house, and so I shed my leaves.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the little bird, \"I'll moult all my feathers.\" So he\nmoulted all his pretty feathers. Now there was a little girl walking\nbelow, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers' and sisters' supper,\nand when she saw the poor little bird moult all its feathers, she\nsaid: \"Little bird, why do you moult all your feathers?\" \"Oh!\" said\nthe little bird, \"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and\nthe broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form\nruns round the house, the walnut-tree sheds its leaves, and so I\nmoult all my feathers.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the little girl, \"I'll spill the milk.\" So she dropped\nthe pitcher and spilt the milk. Now there was an old man just by on\nthe top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl\nspill the milk, he said: \"Little girl, what do you mean by spilling\nthe milk? Your little brothers and sisters must go without their\nsupper.\" Then said the little girl: \"Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps,\nthe stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window\ncreaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut-tree sheds all\nits leaves, the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill\nthe milk.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the old man, \"then I'll tumble off the ladder and break my\nneck.\" So he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the\nold man broke his neck, the great walnut-tree fell down with a crash,\nand upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the\nwindow out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset\nthe broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse\nwas buried beneath the ruins.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTEENY TINY\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a teeny-tiny woman who lived in a\nteeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny\nwoman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny\nhouse to take a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman\nhad gone a teeny-tiny way, she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so\nthe teeny-tiny woman opened the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a\nteeny-tiny churchyard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had got into\nthe teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny\ngrave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self: \"This\nteeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny\nsupper.\" So the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her\nteeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house.\n\nNow, when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house, she\nwas a teeny-tiny tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to\nher teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny\ncupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a\nteeny-tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the\nteeny-tiny cupboard, which said--\n\n\"GIVE ME MY BONE!\"\n\nAnd this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her\nteeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes, and went to sleep again.\nAnd when she had been asleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny\nvoice cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder--\n\n\"GIVE ME MY BONE!\"\n\nThis made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she\nhid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny farther under the teeny-tiny\nclothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been asleep again a\nteeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard\nsaid again a teeny-tiny louder--\n\n\"GIVE ME MY BONE!\"\n\nAt this the teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened; but\nshe put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in\nher loudest teeny-tiny voice--\n\n\"TAKE IT!!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPIDER AND THE FLEA\n\n\nA Spider and a Flea dwelt together in one house, and brewed their beer\nin an egg-shell. One day, when the Spider was stirring it up, she fell\nin and scalded herself. Thereupon the Flea began to scream. And then\nthe door asked: \"Why are you screaming, Flea?\"\n\n\"Because little Spider has scalded herself in the beer-tub,\" replied\nshe.\n\nThereupon the door began to creak as if it were in pain; and a broom,\nwhich stood in the corner, asked, \"What are you creaking for, door?\"\n\n\"May I not creak?\" it replied:\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps.\"\n\nSo the broom began to sweep industriously, and presently a little cart\ncame by, and asked the reason. \"May I not sweep?\" replied the broom:\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps;\n The little door creaks with the pain,\"--\n\nThereupon the little cart said: \"So will I run,\" and began to run very\nfast, past a heap of ashes, which cried out: \"Why do you run, little\ncart?\"\n\n\"Because,\" replied the cart:\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps;\n The little door creaks with the pain,\n And the broom sweeps.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the ashes, \"I will burn furiously.\" Now, next the ashes\nthere grew a tree, which asked: \"Little heap, why do you burn?\"\n\n\"Because,\" was the reply:\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps;\n The little door creaks with the pain,\n And the broom sweeps;\n The little cart runs on so fast,\"--\n\nThereupon the tree cried, \"I will shake myself!\" and went on shaking\ntill all its leaves fell off.\n\nA little girl passing by with a water-pitcher saw it shaking, and\nasked: \"Why do you shake yourself, little tree?\"\n\n\"Why may I not?\" said the tree:\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps;\n The little door creaks with the pain,\n And the broom sweeps;\n The little cart runs on so fast,\n And the ashes burn.\"\n\nThen the maiden said: \"If so, I will break my pitcher;\" and she threw\nit down and broke it.\n\nAt this the streamlet, from which she drew the water, asked:\n\n\"Why do you break your pitcher, my little girl?\"\n\n\"Why may I not?\" she replied; for\n\n \"The little Spider's scalt herself,\n And the Flea weeps;\n The little door creaks with the pain,\n And the broom sweeps;\n The little cart runs on so fast,\n And the ashes burn;\n The little tree shakes down its leaves--\n Now it is my turn!\"\n\n\"Ah, then,\" said the streamlet, \"now must I begin to flow.\" And it\nflowed and flowed along, in a great stream, which kept getting bigger\nand bigger, until at last it swallowed up the little girl, the little\ntree, the ashes, the cart, the broom, the door, the Flea, and, last of\nall, the Spider, all together.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE SHEPHERD BOY\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little shepherd boy who was famed far and\nwide for the wise answers which he gave to all questions. Now the King\nof the country heard of this lad, but he would not believe what was\nsaid about him, so the boy was ordered to come to court. When he\narrived the King said to him: \"If you can give me answers to each of\nthe three questions which I will now put to you, I will bring you up\nas my own child, and you shall live here with me in my palace.\"\n\n\"What are these three questions?\" asked the boy.\n\n\"The first is: How many drops of water are there in the sea?\"\n\n\"My lord King,\" replied the shepherd boy, \"let all the waters be\nstopped up on the earth, so that not one drop shall run into the sea\nbefore I count it, and then I will tell you how many drops there are\nin the sea!\"\n\n\"The second question,\" said the King, \"is: How many stars are there in\nthe sky?\"\n\n\"Give me a large sheet of paper,\" said the boy; and then he made in it\nwith a pin so many minute holes that they were far too numerous to see\nor to count, and dazzled the eyes of whomsoever looked at them. This\ndone, he said: \"So many stars are there in the sky as there are holes\nin this paper; now count them.\" But nobody was able. Thereupon the King\nsaid: \"The third question is: How many seconds are there in eternity?\"\n\n\"In Lower Pomerania is situated the adamantine mountain, one mile in\nheight, one mile in breadth, and one mile deep; and thither comes\na bird once in every thousand years which rubs its beak against the\nhill, and, when the whole shall be rubbed away, then will the first\nsecond of eternity be gone by.\"\n\n\"You have answered the three questions like a sage,\" said the King,\n\"and from henceforward you shall live with me in my palace, and I will\ntreat you as my own child.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE SPINNERS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a lazy maiden who would not spin, and, let\nher mother say what she would, she could not make her do it. At last,\nthe mother, in a fit of impatience, gave her a blow which made the\ngirl cry out loudly.\n\nAt that very instant, the Queen drove by, and, hearing the screams,\nshe stopped the carriage, came into the house, and asked the mother\nwhy she beat her daughter in such a way that people in passing could\nhear the cries.\n\nThen the mother felt ashamed that her daughter's laziness should be\nknown, so she said: \"Oh, your Majesty, I cannot take her away from her\nspinning: she spins from morning till night, and I am so poor that I\ncannot afford to buy the flax.\"\n\n\"There is nothing I like better than to hear the sound of spinning,\"\nthe Queen replied, \"and nothing pleases me more than the whirl of\nspinning-wheels. Let me take your daughter home with me to the castle;\nI have flax enough, and she may spin there to her heart's content.\"\n\nThe mother rejoiced greatly in her heart, and the Queen took the\nmaiden home with her. When they arrived in the castle, she led her up\ninto three rooms, which were piled from top to bottom with the finest\nflax.\n\n\"Now spin me this flax,\" said the Queen, \"and when thou has spun it\nall, thou shalt have my eldest son for a husband. Although thou art\npoor, yet I do not despise thee on that account, for thy untiring\nindustry is dowry enough.\"\n\nThe maiden was filled with inward terror, for she could not have spun\nthe flax had she sat there day and night until she was three hundred\nyears old! When she was left alone, she began to weep, and thus she\nsat for three days without stirring a finger.\n\nOn the third day the Queen came, and when she saw that nothing was\nas yet spun, she wondered over it, but the maiden excused herself by\nsaying that she could not begin in consequence of the great sorrow she\nfelt in being separated from her mother.\n\nThis satisfied the Queen, who, on leaving her, said:\n\n\"Thou must begin to work for me to-morrow.\"\n\nBut when the maiden was once more alone, she did not know what to do,\nor how to help herself, and in her distress she went to the window and\nlooked out. She saw three women passing by, the first of whom had a\ngreat broad foot, the second such a large under-lip that it hung down\nto her chin, and the third an enormous thumb.\n\nThey stopped under the window, and, looking up, asked the maiden what\nwas the matter.\n\nWhen she had told them of her trouble, they immediately offered her\ntheir help, and said:\n\n\"Wilt thou invite us to the wedding, and not be ashamed of us, but\ncall us thy aunts, and let us sit at thy table? If thou wilt, we will\nspin all the flax, and do it in a very short time.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" answered the girl, \"only come in, and begin at\nonce.\"\n\nThen she admitted the three strange women, and, making a clear space\nin the first room, they sat themselves down and began spinning.\n\nOne drew the thread and trod the wheel, the other moistened the\nthread, the third pressed it and beat it on the table, and every time\nshe did so, a pile of thread fell on the ground spun in the finest\nway.\n\nThe maiden concealed the three spinners from the Queen, but showed\nher the heaps of spun yarn whenever she came, and received no end of\npraise for it.\n\nWhen the first room was empty, the second was commenced, and when that\nwas finished, the third was begun, and very soon cleared.\n\nThen the three spinners took their leave, saying to the maiden:\n\n\"Forget not what thou hast promised us; it will make thy fortune.\"\n\nWhen the girl showed the Queen the empty rooms and the great piles of\nthread, the wedding was announced. The bridegroom rejoiced that he had\nwon so clever and industrious a wife, and he praised her exceedingly.\n\n\"I have three aunts,\" said the maiden, \"and as they have done me many\nkindnesses, I could not forget them in my good fortune; permit me to\ninvite them to our wedding and allow them to sit with me at table.\"\n\nSo the Queen and the bridegroom consented.\n\nWhen the feast commenced, the three old women entered, clothed in the\ngreatest splendor, and the bride said--\n\n\"Welcome, my dear aunts!\"\n\n\"Alas!\" exclaimed the bridegroom, \"how is it you have such ugly\nrelations?\" and going up to the one with a broad foot, he asked:\n\n\"Why have you such a broad foot?\"\n\n\"From threading, from threading,\" she answered.\n\nThen he went to the second, and asked:\n\n\"Why have you such an overhanging lip?\"\n\n\"From moistening the thread,\" she replied, \"from moistening the\nthread.\"\n\nThen he asked the third:\n\n\"Why have you such a big thumb?\"\n\n\"From pressing the thread,\" answered she.\n\nThen the Prince became frightened, and said:\n\n\"Then shall my lovely bride never more turn a spinning-wheel, as long\nas she lives!\"\n\nThus was the maiden freed from the hated flax-spinning.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAT AND THE MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP\n\n\nA cat having made the acquaintance of a mouse, told her so much of the\ngreat love and affection that he had for her, that the mouse at\nlast consented to live in the same house with him, and to have their\ndomestic affairs in common. \"But we must provide for the winter,\"\nsaid the cat, \"or we shall be starved; you, little mouse, cannot go\neverywhere looking for food, or you will meet with an accident.\"\n\nThis advice was followed, and a pot was brought with some grease in\nit. However, when they had got it, they could not imagine where it\nshould be put; but at last, after a long consideration, the cat said:\n\"I know no better place to put it than in the church, for there no\none dares to steal anything; we will set it beneath the organ, and not\ntouch it till we really want it.\"\n\nSo the pot was put away in safety; but not long afterward the cat\nbegan to wish for it again, so he spoke to the mouse and said: \"I have\nto tell you that I am asked by my aunt to stand godfather to a little\nson, white with brown marks, whom she has just brought into the world,\nand so I must go to the christening. Let me go out to-day, and do you\nstop at home and keep house.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" answered the mouse; \"pray, go; and if you eat anything\nnice, think of me; I would also willingly drink a little of the sweet\nred christening-wine.\"\n\nBut, alas! it was all a story; for the cat had no aunt, and had not\nbeen asked to stand godfather to any one. He went straight to the\nchurch, crept up to the grease-pot, and licked it till he had eaten\noff the top; then he took a walk on the roofs of the houses in the\ntown, thinking over his situation, and now and then stretching himself\nin the sun and stroking his whiskers as often as he thought of his\nmeal. When it was evening he went home again, and the mouse said: \"So\nyou have come at last; what a charming day you must have had!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the cat; \"it went off very well!\"\n\n\"What have you named the kitten?\" asked the mouse.\n\n\"_Top-off_,\" said the cat very quickly.\n\n\"_Top-off!_\" replied the mouse; \"that is a curious and remarkable\nname; is it common in your family?\"\n\n\"What does that matter?\" said the cat; \"it is not worse than\nCrumb-stealer, as your children are called.\"\n\nNot long afterward the cat felt the same longing as before, and said\nto the mouse: \"You must oblige me by taking care of the house once\nmore by yourself; I am again asked to stand godfather, and, since\nthe youngster has a white ring round his neck, I cannot get off the\ninvitation.\" So the good little mouse consented, and the cat crept\naway behind the wall to the church again, and ate half the contents\nof the grease-pot. \"Nothing tastes better than what one eats by one's\nself,\" said he, quite contented with his day's work; and when he came\nhome the mouse asked how this child was named.\n\n\"_Half-out_,\" answered the cat.\n\n\"_Half-out!_ What do you mean? I never heard such a name before in\nmy life; I will wager anything it is not in the calendar,\" but the\ncat replied nothing.\n\nPussy's mouth soon began to water again at the recollection of the\nfeasting. \"All good things come in threes,\" said he to the mouse. \"I\nam again required to be godfather; this child is quite black, and has\nlittle white claws, but not a single white hair on his body; such a\nthing only happens once in two years, so pray excuse me this time.\"\n\n\"_Top-off! Half-out!_\" answered the mouse; \"those are such curious\nnames, they make me a bit suspicious.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the cat, \"there you sit in your gray coat and long tail,\nthinking nonsense. That comes of never going out.\"\n\nThe mouse busied herself during the cat's absence in putting the house\nin order, but meanwhile greedy puss licked the grease-pot clean out.\n\"When it is all done one will rest in peace,\" thought he to himself,\nand as soon as night came he went home fat and tired. The mouse,\nhowever, again asked what name the third child had received. \"It\nwill not please you any better,\" answered the cat, \"for he is called\n_All-out_.\"\n\n\"_All-out!_\" exclaimed the mouse; \"well, that is certainly the most\ncurious name by far. I have never yet seen it in print. _All-out!_\nWhat can that mean?\" and, shaking her head, she rolled herself up and\nwent to sleep.\n\nAfter that nobody else asked the cat to stand godfather; but the\nwinter had arrived, and nothing more was to be picked up out of doors;\nso the mouse bethought herself of their store of provision, and said,\n\"Come, friend cat, we will go to our grease-pot which we laid by; it\nwill taste well now.\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" replied the cat; \"it will taste as well as if you\nstroked your tongue against the window.\"\n\nSo they set out on their journey, and when they arrived at the church\nthe pot stood in its old place--but it was empty! \"Ah,\" said the\nmouse, \"I see what has happened; now I know you are indeed a faithful\nfriend. You have eaten the whole as you stood godfather; first\n_Top-off_, then _Half-out_, then--\"\n\n\"Will you be quiet?\" cried the cat. \"Not a word, or I'll eat you.\" But\nthe poor mouse had \"_All-out\"_ at her tongue's end, and had scarcely\nuttered it when the cat made a spring, seized her in his mouth, and\nswallowed her.\n\nThis happens every day in the world.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWEET SOUP\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a poor but very good little girl, who lived\nalone with her mother, and when my story begins, they had nothing in\nthe house to eat. So the child went out into the forest, and there she\nmet an old woman, who already knew her distress, and who presented her\nwith a pot which had the following power. If one said to it, \"Boil,\nlittle pot!\" it would cook sweet soup; and when one said: \"Stop,\nlittle pot!\" it would immediately cease to boil. The little girl took\nthe pot home to her mother, and now their poverty and distresses were\nat an end, for they could have sweet broth as often as they pleased.\n\nOne day, however, the little girl went out, and in her absence the\nmother said: \"Boil, little pot!\" So it began to cook, and she soon ate\nall she wished; but when the poor woman wanted to have the pot stop,\nshe found she did not know the word. Away, therefore, the pot boiled,\nand very quickly was over the edge; and as it boiled and boiled the\nkitchen presently became full, then the house, and the next house, and\nsoon the whole street. It seemed likely to satisfy all the world, for,\nthough there was the greatest necessity to do so, nobody knew how to\nstop it. At last, when only a very small cottage of all the village\nwas left unfilled with soup, the child returned and said at once:\n\"Stop, little pot!\"\n\nImmediately it ceased to boil; but whoever wishes to enter the village\nnow must eat his way through the soup!!!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE STRAW THE COAL AND THE BEAN\n\n\nAll alone, in a quiet little village, lived a poor old woman. One day\nshe had a dish of beans which she wanted to cook for dinner, so she\nmade a fire on the hearth, and in order that it should burn up quickly\nshe lighted it with a handful of straw.\n\nShe hung the pot over the fire, and poured in the beans; but one fell\non to the floor without her noticing it, and rolled away beside a\npiece of straw. Soon afterwards a live coal flew out of the fire and\njoined their company. Then the straw began to speak.\n\n\"Dear friends,\" said he, \"whence come you?\"\n\n\"I was fortunate enough to spring out of the fire,\" answered the\ncoal. \"Had I not exerted myself to get out when I did, I should most\ncertainly have been burnt to ashes.\"\n\n\"I have also just managed to save my skin,\" said the bean. \"Had the\nold woman succeeded in putting me into the pot, I should have been\nstewed without mercy, just as my comrades are being served now.\"\n\n\"My fate might have been no better,\" the straw told them. \"The old\nwoman burnt sixty of my brothers at once, but fortunately I was able\nto slip through her fingers.\"\n\n\"What shall we do now?\" said the coal.\n\n\"Well,\" answered the bean, \"my opinion is that, as we have all been\nso fortunate as to escape death, we should leave this place before\nany new misfortune overtakes us. Let us all three become traveling\ncompanions and set out upon a journey to some unknown country.\"\n\nThis suggestion pleased both the straw and the coal, so away they all\nwent at once. Before long they came to a brook, and as there was no\nbridge across it they did not know how to get to the other side; but\nthe straw had a good idea: \"I will lay myself over the water, and\nyou can walk across me as though I were a bridge,\" he said. So he\nstretched himself from one bank to the other, and the coal, who was\nof a hasty disposition, at once tripped gaily on to the newly-built\nbridge. Half way across she hesitated, and began to feel afraid of the\nrushing water beneath her. She dared go no farther, but neither would\nshe return; but she stood there so long that the straw caught fire,\nbroke in two, and fell into the stream. Of course, the coal was bound\nto follow. No sooner did she touch the water than--hiss, zish! out she\nwent, and never glowed again.\n\nThe bean, who was a careful fellow, had stayed on the bank, to watch\nhow the coal got across, before trusting himself to such a slender\nbridge. But when he saw what very queer figures his friends cut, he\ncould not help laughing. He laughed and laughed till he could not\nstop, and at length he split his side.\n\nIt would have gone badly with him then, had not a tailor happened to\npass by. He was a kind-hearted fellow, and at once took out his needle\nand thread and began to repair the mischief.\n\nThe bean thanked him politely, for he knew that the tailor had saved\nhis life, but unfortunately he had used black thread, and from that\ntime till to-day every bean has a little black stitch in its side.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE BEAR HAS A STUMPY TAIL\n\n\nOne winter's day the bear met the fox, who came slinking along with a\nstring of fish he had stolen.\n\n\"Hi! stop a minute! Where did you get those from?\" demanded the bear.\n\n\"Oh, my Lord Bruin, I've been out fishing and caught them,\" said the\nfox.\n\nSo the bear had a mind to learn to fish, too, and bade the fox tell\nhim how he was to set about it.\n\n\"Oh, it is quite easy,\" answered the fox, \"and soon learned. You've\nonly got to go upon the ice, and cut a hole and stick your tail down\nthrough it, and hold it there as long as you can. You're not to mind\nif it smarts a little; that's when the fish bite. The longer you hold\nit there, the more fish you'll get; and then all at once out with it,\nwith a cross pull side ways and a strong pull, too.\"\n\nWell, the bear did as the fox said, and though he felt very cold, and\nhis tail smarted very much, he kept it a long, long time down in the\nhole, till at last it was frozen in, though of course he did not know\nthat. Then he pulled it out with a strong pull, and it snapped short\noff, and that's why Bruin goes about with a stumpy tail to this day!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE LITTLE PIGS\n\n\nOnce upon a time, when pigs could talk and no one had ever heard of\nbacon, there lived an old piggy mother with her three little sons.\n\nThey had a very pleasant home in the middle of an oak forest, and were\nall just as happy as the day was long, until one sad year the acorn\ncrop failed; then, indeed, poor Mrs. Piggy-wiggy often had hard work\nto make both ends meet.\n\nOne day she called her sons to her, and, with tears in her eyes, told\nthem that she must send them out into the wide world to seek their\nfortune.\n\nShe kissed them all round, and the three little pigs set out upon\ntheir travels, each taking a different road, and carrying a bundle\nslung on a stick across his shoulder.\n\nThe first little pig had not gone far before he met a man carrying a\nbundle of straw; so he said to him: \"Please, man, give me that straw\nto build me a house?\" The man was very good-natured, so he gave him\nthe bundle of straw, and the little pig built a pretty little house\nwith it.\n\nNo sooner was it finished, and the little pig thinking of going to\nbed, than a wolf came along, knocked at the door, and said: \"Little\npig, little pig, let me come in.\"\n\nBut the little pig laughed softly, and answered: \"No, no, by the hair\nof my chinny-chin-chin.\"\n\nThen said the wolf sternly: \"I will _make_ you let me in; for I'll\nhuff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!\"\n\nSo he huffed and he puffed, and he blew his house in, because, you\nsee, it was only of straw and too light; and when he had blown the\nhouse in, he ate up the little pig, and did not leave so much as the\ntip of his tail.\n\nThe second little pig also met a man, and _he_ was carrying a bundle\nof furze; so piggy said politely: \"Please, kind man, will you give me\nthat furze to build me a house?\"\n\nThe man agreed, and piggy set to work to build himself a snug little\nhouse before the night came on. It was scarcely finished when the wolf\ncame along, and said: \"Little pig, little pig, let me come in.\"\n\n\"No, no, by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,\" answered the second\nlittle pig.\n\n\"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!\" said the\nwolf. So he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at\nlast he blew the house in, and gobbled the little pig up in a trice.\n\nNow, the third little pig met a man with a load of bricks and mortar,\nand he said: \"Please, man, will you give me those bricks to build a\nhouse with?\"\n\nSo the man gave him the bricks and mortar, and a little trowel as\nwell, and the little pig built himself a nice strong little house. As\nsoon as it was finished the wolf came to call, just as he had done to\nthe other little pigs, and said: \"Little pig, little pig, let me in!\"\n\nBut the little pig answered: \"No, no, by the hair of my\nchinny-chin-chin.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the wolf, \"I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your\nhouse in.\"\n\nWell, he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and he\nhuffed, and he puffed; but he could _not_ get the house down. At last\nhe had no breath left to huff and puff with, so he sat down outside\nthe little pig's house and thought for awhile.\n\nPresently he called out: \"Little pig, I know where there is a nice\nfield of turnips.\"\n\n\"Where?\" said the little pig.\n\n\"Behind the farmer's house, three fields away, and if you will be\nready to-morrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together\nand get some breakfast.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the little pig; \"I will be sure to be ready. What\ntime do you mean to start?\"\n\n\"At six o'clock,\" replied the wolf.\n\nWell, the wise little pig got up at five, scampered away to the field,\nand brought home a fine load of turnips before the wolf came. At six\no'clock the wolf came to the little pig's house and said: \"Little pig,\nare you ready?\"\n\n\"Ready!\" cried the little pig. \"Why, I have been to the field and\ncome back long ago, and now I am busy boiling a potful of turnips for\nbreakfast.\"\n\nThe wolf was very angry indeed; but he made up his mind to catch the\nlittle pig somehow or other; so he told him that he knew where there\nwas a nice apple-tree.\n\n\"Where?\" said the little pig.\n\n\"Round the hill in the squire's orchard,\" the wolf said. \"So if\nyou will promise to play me no tricks, I will come for you tomorrow\nmorning at five o'clock, and we will go there together and get some\nrosy-cheeked apples.\"\n\nThe next morning piggy got up at four o'clock and was off and away\nlong before the wolf came.\n\nBut the orchard was a long way off, and besides, he had the tree to\nclimb, which is a difficult matter for a little pig, so that before\nthe sack he had brought with him was quite filled he saw the wolf\ncoming towards him.\n\nHe was dreadfully frightened, but he thought it better to put a good\nface on the matter, so when the wolf said: \"Little pig, why are you\nhere before me? Are they nice apples?\" he replied at once: \"Yes, very;\nI will throw down one for you to taste.\" So he picked an apple and\nthrew it so far that whilst the wolf was running to fetch it he had\ntime to jump down and scamper away home.\n\nThe next day the wolf came again, and told the little pig that there\nwas going to be a fair in the town that afternoon, and asked him if he\nwould go with him.\n\n\"Oh! yes,\" said the pig, \"I will go with pleasure. What time will you\nbe ready to start?\"\n\n\"At half-past three,\" said the wolf.\n\nOf course, the little pig started long before the time, went to the\nfair, and bought a fine large butter-churn, and was trotting away with\nit on his back when he saw the wolf coming.\n\nHe did not know what to do, so he crept into the churn to hide, and by\nso doing started it rolling.\n\nDown the hill it went, rolling over and over, with the little pig\nsqueaking inside.\n\nThe wolf could not think what the strange thing rolling down the hill\ncould be; so he turned tail and ran away home in a fright without ever\ngoing to the fair at all. He went to the little pig's house to tell\nhim how frightened he had been by a large round thing which came\nrolling past him down the hill.\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" laughed the little pig; \"so I frightened you, eh? I had been\nto the fair and bought a butter-churn; when I saw you I got inside it\nand rolled down the hill.\"\n\nThis made the wolf so angry that he declared that he _would_ eat up\nthe little pig, and that nothing should save him, for he would jump\ndown the chimney.\n\nBut the clever little pig hung a pot full of water over the hearth\nand then made a blazing fire, and just as the wolf was coming down the\nchimney he took off the cover and in fell the wolf. In a second the\nlittle pig had popped the lid on again.\n\nThen he boiled the wolf, and ate him for supper, and after that he\nlived quietly and comfortably all his days, and was never troubled by\na wolf again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE CHILDREN\n\n Three children sliding on the ice\n Upon a summer's day,\n As it fell out they all fell in,\n The rest they ran away.\n\n Now, had these children been at home,\n Or sliding on dry ground,\n Ten thousand pounds to one penny\n They had not all been drowned.\n\n You parents all that children have,\n And you too that have none,\n If you would have them safe abroad\n Pray keep them safe at home.\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT\n\n\nI\n\n The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea\n In a beautiful pea-green boat:\n They took some honey, and plenty of money\n Wrapped up in a five-pound note.\n The Owl looked up to the stars above,\n And sang to a small guitar,\n \"Oh lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,\n What a beautiful Pussy you are,\n You are,\n You are!\n What a beautiful Pussy you are!\"\n\n\nII\n\n Pussy said to the Owl, \"You elegant fowl,\n How charmingly sweet you sing!\n Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried;\n But what shall we do for a ring?\"\n They sailed away, for a year and a day,\n To the land where the bong-tree grows;\n And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,\n With a ring at the end of his nose,\n His nose,\n His nose,\n With a ring at the end of his nose.\n\n\nIII\n\n \"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling\n Your ring?\" Said the Piggy, \"I will.\"\n So they took it away, and were married next day\n By the turkey who lives on the hill.\n They dined on mince and slices of quince,\n Which they ate with a runcible spoon;\n And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,\n They danced by the light of the moon,\n The moon,\n The moon,\n They danced by the light of the moon.\n\nEDWARD LEAR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nKINDNESS TO ANIMALS\n\n Little children, never give\n Pain to things that feel and live:\n Let the gentle robin come\n For the crumbs you save at home,--\n As his meat you throw along\n He'll repay you with a song;\n Never hurt the timid hare\n Peeping from her green grass lair,\n Let her come and sport and play\n On the lawn at close of day;\n The little lark goes soaring high\n To the bright windows of the sky,\n Singing as if 'twere always spring,\n And fluttering on an untired wing,--\n Oh! let him sing his happy song,\n Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE\n\n How doth the little busy bee\n Improve each shining hour,\n And gather honey all the day\n From every opening flow'r!\n\n How skilfully she builds her cell!\n How neat she spreads the wax!\n And labors hard to store it well\n With the sweet food she makes.\n\n In works of labor or of skill,\n I would be busy too;\n For Satan finds some mischief still\n For idle hands to do.\n\n In books, or work, or healthful play,\n Let my first years be past,\n That I may give for ev'ry day\n Some good account at last.\n\nISAAC WATTS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSUPPOSE!\n\n Suppose, my little lady,\n Your doll should break her head,\n Could you make it whole by crying\n Till your eyes and nose are red?\n And wouldn't it be pleasanter\n To treat it as a joke,\n And say you're glad 'twas Dolly's,\n And not your head that broke?\n\n Suppose you're dressed for walking,\n And the rain comes pouring down,\n Will it clear off any sooner\n Because you scold and frown?\n And wouldn't it be nicer\n For you to smile than pout,\n And so make sunshine in the house\n When there is none without?\n\n Suppose your task, my little man,\n Is very hard to get,\n Will it make it any easier\n For you to sit and fret?\n And wouldn't it be wiser\n Than waiting, like a dunce,\n To go to work in earnest\n And learn the thing at once?\n\n Suppose that some boys have a horse,\n And some a coach and pair,\n Will it tire you less while walking\n To say, \"It is n't fair?\"\n And would n't it be nobler\n To keep your temper sweet,\n And in your heart be thankful\n You can walk upon your feet?\n\n And suppose the world don't please you,\n Nor the way some people do,\n Do you think the whole creation\n Will be altered just for you?\n And isn't it, my boy or girl,\n The wisest, bravest plan,\n Whatever comes, or does n't come,\n To do the best you can?\n\nPHOEBE CARY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTWINKLE, TWINKLE\n\n Twinkle, twinkle, little star;\n How I wonder what you are!\n Up above the world so high,\n Like a diamond in the sky.\n\n When the glorious sun is set,\n When the grass with dew is wet,\n Then you show your little light,\n Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.\n\n When the blazing sun is gone,\n When he nothing shines upon,\n Then you show your little light,\n Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.\n\n In the dark-blue sky you keep,\n And often through my curtains peep;\n For you never shut your eye\n Till the sun is in the sky.\n\n As your bright and tiny spark\n Lights the traveler in the dark,\n Though I know not what you are,\n Twinkle, twinkle, little star!\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nPRETTY COW\n\n Thank you, pretty cow, that made\n Pleasant milk to soak my bread,\n Every day and every night,\n Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white\n\n Do not chew the hemlock rank,\n Growing on the weedy bank;\n But the yellow cowslips eat,\n That will make it very sweet.\n\n Where the purple violet grows,\n Where the bubbling water flows,\n Where the grass is fresh and fine,\n Pretty cow, go there and dine.\n\nJANE TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE LITTLE KITTENS\n\n(A CAT'S TALE, WITH ADDITIONS)\n\n Three little kittens lost their mittens;\n And they began to cry,\n O mother dear,\n We very much fear\n That we have lost our mittens.\n\n Lost your mittens!\n You naughty kittens!\n Then you shall have no pie.\n Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.\n No, you shall have no pie.\n Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.\n\n The three little kittens found their mittens,\n And they began to cry,\n O mother dear,\n See here, see here;\n See, we have found our mittens.\n\n Put on your mittens,\n You silly kittens,\n And you may have some pie.\n Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r,\n O let us have the pie.\n Purr-r, purr-r, purr-r.\n\n The three little kittens put on their mittens,\n And soon ate up the pie;\n O mother dear,\n We greatly fear\n That we have soiled our mittens.\n\n Soiled your mittens!\n You naughty kittens!\n Then they began to sigh,\n Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow,\n Then they began to sigh.\n Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.\n\n The three little kittens washed their mittens,\n And hung them out to dry;\n O mother dear,\n Do not you hear,\n That we have washed our mittens?\n\n Washed your mittens!\n O, you're good kittens.\n But I smell a rat close by;\n Hush! hush! mee-ow, mee-ow.\n We smell a rat close by,\n Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.\n\nELIZA LEE FOLLEN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAND OF COUNTERPANE\n\n When I was sick and lay a-bed,\n I had two pillows at my head,\n And all my toys beside me lay\n To keep me happy all the day.\n\n And sometimes for an hour or so\n I watched my leaden soldiers go,\n With different uniforms and drills,\n Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;\n\n And sometimes sent my ships in fleets\n All up and down among the sheets;\n Or brought my trees and houses out,\n And planted cities all about.\n\n I was the giant great and still\n That sits upon the pillow-hill,\n And sees before him, dale and plain,\n The pleasant land of counterpane.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL\n\n There was a little girl,\n And she had a little curl\n Right in the middle of her forehead.\n When she was good\n She was very, very good,\n And when she was bad she was horrid.\n\n One day she went upstairs,\n When her parents, unawares,\n In the kitchen were occupied with meals,\n And she stood upon her head\n In her little trundle-bed,\n And then began hooraying with her heels.\n\n Her mother heard the noise,\n And she thought it was the boys\n A-playing at a combat in the attic;\n But when she climbed the stair,\n And found Jemima there,\n She took and she did spank her most emphatic.\n\nHENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOY WHO NEVER TOLD A LIE\n\n Once there was a little boy,\n With curly hair and pleasant eye--\n A boy who always told the truth,\n And never, never told a lie.\n\n And when he trotted off to school,\n The children all about would cry,\n \"There goes the curly-headed boy--\n The boy that never tells a lie.\"\n\n And everybody loved him so,\n Because he always told the truth,\n That every day, as he grew up,\n 'Twas said, \"There goes the honest youth.\"\n\n And when the people that stood near\n Would turn to ask the reason why,\n The answer would be always this:\n \"Because he never tells a lie.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN CHILDREN\n\n Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,\n Little frosty Eskimo,\n Little Turk or Japanee,\n O! don't you wish that you were me?\n\n You have seen the scarlet trees\n And the lions over seas;\n You have eaten ostrich eggs,\n And turned the turtles off their legs.\n\n Such a life is very fine,\n But it's not so nice as mine:\n You must often, as you trod,\n Have wearied _not_ to be abroad.\n\n You have curious things to eat,\n I am fed on proper meat;\n You must dwell beyond the foam,\n But I am safe and live at home.\n Little Indian, Sioux or Crow,\n Little frosty Eskimo,\n Little Turk or Japanee,\n O! don't you wish that you were me?\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE UNSEEN PLAYMATE\n\n When children are playing alone on the green,\n In comes the playmate that never was seen.\n When children are happy and lonely and good,\n The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.\n\n Nobody heard him and nobody saw,\n His is a picture you never could draw,\n But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home,\n When children are happy, and playing alone.\n\n He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass,\n He sings when you tinkle the musical glass;\n Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why,\n The Friend of the Children is sure to be by!\n\n He loves to be little, he hates to be big,\n 'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig;\n 'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of tin\n That sides with the Frenchmen and never can win.\n\n 'Tis he when at night; you go off to your bed,\n Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your head;\n For wherever they're lying, in cupboard or shelf,\n 'Tis he will take care of your playthings himself!\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nI SAW THREE SHIPS\n\n I saw three ships come sailing in,\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day;\n I saw three ships come sailing in,\n On Christmas day in the morning.\n\n Pray whither sailed those ships all three\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day?\n Pray whither sailed those ships all three\n On Christmas day in the morning?\n\n Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day;\n Oh, they sailed into Bethlehem\n On Christmas day in the morning.\n\n And all the bells on earth shall ring\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day;\n And all the bells on earth shall ring\n On Christmas day in the morning.\n\n And all the angels in heaven shall sing\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day;\n And all the angels in heaven shall sing\n On Christmas day in the morning.\n\n And all the souls on earth shall sing\n On Christmas day, on Christmas day;\n And all the souls on earth shall sing\n On Christmas day in the morning.\n\nOLD CAROL\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA WAS AN ANT\n\n A was an ant\n Who seldom stood still,\n And who made a nice house\n In the side of a hill.\n a\n Nice little ant!\n\n B was a book\n With a binding of blue,\n And pictures and stories\n For me and for you.\n b\n Nice little book!\n\n C was a cat\n Who ran after a rat;\n But his courage did fail\n When she seized on his tail.\n c\n Crafty old cat!\n\n D was a duck\n With spots on his back,\n Who lived in the water,\n And always said \"Quack!\"\n d\n Dear little duck!\n\n E was an elephant,\n Stately and wise:\n He had tusks and a trunk,\n And two queer little eyes,\n e\n Oh, what funny small eyes!\n\n F was a fish\n Who was caught in a net;\n But he got out again,\n And is quite alive yet.\n f\n Lively young fish!\n\n G was a goat\n Who was spotted with brown:\n When he did not lie still\n He walked up and down.\n g\n Good little goat!\n\n H was a hat\n Which was all on one side;\n Its crown was too high,\n And its brim was too wide.\n h\n Oh, what a hat!\n\n I was some ice\n So white and so nice,\n But which nobody tasted;\n And so it was wasted.\n i\n All that good ice!\n\n J was a jackdaw\n Who hopped up and down\n In the principal street\n Of a neighboring town.\n j\n All through the town!\n\n K was a kite\n Which flew out of sight,\n Above houses so high,\n Quite into the sky.\n k\n Fly away, kite!\n\n L was a light\n Which burned all the night,\n And lighted the gloom\n Of a very dark room.\n l\n Useful nice light!\n\n M was a mill\n Which stood on a hill,\n And turned round and round\n With a loud hummy sound.\n m\n Useful old mill!\n\n N was a net\n Which was thrown in the sea\n To catch fish for dinner\n For you and for me.\n n\n Nice little net!\n\n O was an orange\n So yellow and round:\n When it fell off the tree,\n It fell down to the ground;\n o\n Down to the ground!\n\n P was a pig,\n Who was not very big;\n But his tail was too curly,\n And that made him surly.\n p\n Cross little pig!\n\n Q was a quail\n With a very short tail;\n And he fed upon corn\n In the evening and morn.\n q\n Quaint little quail!\n\n R was a rabbit,\n Who had a bad habit\n Of eating the flowers\n In gardens and bowers.\n r\n Naughty fat rabbit!\n\n S was the sugar-tongs,\n Nippity-nee,\n To take up the sugar\n To put in our tea.\n s\n Nippity-nee!\n\n T was a tortoise,\n All yellow and black:\n He walked slowly away,\n And he never came back.\n t\n Torty never came back!\n\n U was an urn\n All polished and bright,\n And full of hot water\n At noon and at night.\n u\n Useful old urn!\n\n V was a villa\n Which stood on a hill,\n By the side of a river,\n And close to a mill.\n v\n Nice little villa!\n\n W was a whale\n With a very long tail,\n Whose movements were frantic\n Across the Atlantic.\n w\n Monstrous old whale!\n\n X was King Xerxes,\n Who, more than all Turks is,\n Renowned for his fashion\n Of fury and passion.\n x\n Angry old Xerxes!\n\n Y was a yew,\n Which flourished and grew\n By a quiet abode\n Near the side of a road.\n y\n Dark little yew!\n\n Z was some zinc,\n So shiny and bright,\n Which caused you to wink\n In the sun's merry light.\n z\n Beautiful zinc!\n\nEDWARD LEAR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TABLE AND THE CHAIR\n\nI\n\n Said the Table to the Chair,\n \"You can hardly be aware\n How I suffer from the heat\n And from chilblains on my feet.\n\n If we took a little walk,\n We might have a little talk;\n Pray let us take the air,\"\n Said the Table to the Chair.\n\n\nII\n\n Said the Chair unto the Table,\n \"Now, you _know_ we are not able:\n How foolishly you talk,\n When you know we _cannot_ walk!\"\n Said the Table with a sigh,\n \"It can do no harm to try.\n I've as many legs as you:\n Why can't we walk on two?\"\n\n\nIII\n\n So they both went slowly down,\n And walked about the town\n With a cheerful bumpy sound\n As they toddled round and round;\n And everybody cried,\n As they hastened to their side,\n \"See! the Table and the Chair\n Have come out to take the air!\"\n\n\nIV\n\n But in going down an alley,\n To a castle in a valley,\n They completely lost their way,\n And wandered all the day;\n Till, to see them safely back,\n They paid a Ducky-quack,\n And a Beetle, and a Mouse,\n Who took them to their house.\n\n\nV\n\n Then they whispered to each other,\n \"O delightful little brother,\n What a lovely walk we've taken!\n Let us dine on beans and bacon.\"\n So the Ducky and the leetle\n Browny-Mousy and the Beetle\n Dined, and danced upon their heads\n Till they toddled to their beds.\n\nEDWARD LEAR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nPRECOCIOUS PIGGY\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"I'm leaving my Mother, I'm growing so big!\"\n So big, young pig,\n So young, so big!\n What, leaving your Mother, you foolish young pig?\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"I've got a new spade, and I'm going to dig!\"\n To dig, little pig!\n A little pig dig!\n Well, I never saw a pig with a spade that could dig!\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"Why, I'm going to have a nice ride in a gig!\"\n In a gig, little pig!\n What, a pig in a gig!\n Well, I never yet saw a pig ride in a gig!\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"Well, I'm going to the Queen's Head to have a nice swig!\"\n A swig, little pig!\n A pig have a swig!\n What, a pig at the Queen's Head having a swig!\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"Why, I'm going to the Ball to dance a fine jig!\"\n A jig, little pig!\n A pig dance a jig!\n Well, I never before saw a pig dance a jig!\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"I'm going to the fair to run a fine rig!\"\n A rig, little pig!\n A pig run a rig!\n Well, I never before saw a pig run a rig!\n\n Where are you going to, you little pig?\n \"I'm going to the Barber's to buy me a wig!\"\n A wig, little pig!\n A pig in a wig!\n Why, whoever before saw a pig in a wig!\n\n . . . . . . . . . .\n\nTHOMAS HOOD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA BOY'S SONG\n\n Where the pools are bright and deep,\n Where the gray trout lies asleep,\n Up the river and o'er the lea,\n That's the way for Billy and me.\n\n Where the blackbird sings the latest,\n Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,\n Where the nestlings chirp and flee,\n That's the way for Billy and me.\n\n Where the mowers mow the cleanest,\n Where the hay lies thick and greenest,\n There to trace the homeward bee,\n That's the way for Billy and me.\n\n Where the hazel bank is steepest,\n Where the shadow falls the deepest,\n Where the clustering nuts fall free,\n That's the way for Billy and me.\n\n Why the boys should drive away\n Little sweet maidens from the play,\n Or love to banter and fight so well,\n That's the thing I never could tell.\n\n But this I know, I love to play,\n Through the meadow, among the hay;\n Up the water and o'er the lea,\n That's the way for Billy and me.\n\nJAMES HOGG\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES\n\n Buttercups and daisies,\n Oh, the pretty flowers;\n Coming ere the spring time,\n To tell of sunny hours.\n While the trees are leafless,\n While the fields are bare,\n Buttercups and daisies\n Spring up here and there.\n\n Ere the snowdrop peepeth,\n Ere the crocus bold,\n Ere the early primrose\n Opes its paly gold,\n Somewhere on the sunny bank\n Buttercups are bright;\n Somewhere 'mong the frozen grass\n Peeps the daisy white.\n\n Little hardy flowers,\n Like to children poor,\n Playing in their sturdy health\n By their mother's door,\n Purple with the north wind,\n Yet alert and bold;\n Fearing not, and caring not,\n Though they be a-cold!\n\n What to them is winter!\n What are stormy showers!\n Buttercups and daisies\n Are these human flowers!\n He who gave them hardships\n And a life of care,\n Gave them likewise hardy strength\n And patient hearts to bear.\n\nMARY HOWITT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE VIOLET\n\n Down in a green and shady bed\n A modest violet grew;\n Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,\n As if to hide from view.\n\n And yet it was a lovely flower,\n Its color bright and fair;\n It might have graced a rosy bower\n Instead of hiding there.\n\n Yet there it was content to bloom,\n In modest tints arrayed;\n And there diffused its sweet perfume\n Within the silent shade.\n\n Then let me to the valley go,\n This pretty flower to see,\n That I may also learn to grow\n In sweet humility.\n\nJANE TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nIF EVER I SEE\n\n If ever I see,\n On bush or tree,\n Young birds in their pretty nest,\n I must not in play,\n Steal the birds away,\n To grieve their mother's breast.\n\n My mother, I know,\n Would sorrow so,\n Should I be stolen away;\n So I'll speak to the birds\n In my softest words,\n Nor hurt them in my play.\n\n And when they can fly\n In the bright blue sky,\n They'll warble a song to me;\n And then if I'm sad\n It will make me glad\n To think they are happy and free.\n\nLYDIA MARIA CHILD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE LAND\n\n When at home alone I sit\n And am very tired of it,\n I have just to shut my eyes\n To go sailing through the skies--\n\n To go sailing far away\n To the pleasant Land of Play;\n To the fairy land afar\n Where the Little People are;\n Where the clover-tops are trees,\n And the rain-pools are the seas,\n And the leaves like little ships\n Sail about on tiny trips;\n And above the daisy tree\n Through the grasses,\n High o'erhead the Bumble Bee\n Hums and passes.\n In that forest to and fro\n I can wander, I can go;\n See the spider and the fly,\n And the ants go marching by\n Carrying parcels with their feet\n Down the green and grassy street\n I can in the sorrel sit\n Where the ladybird alit.\n I can climb the jointed grass;\n And on high\n See the greater swallows pass\n In the sky,\n And the round sun rolling by\n Heeding no such thing as I.\n\n Through the forest I can pass\n Till, as in a looking-glass,\n Humming fly and daisy tree\n And my tiny self I see,\n Painted very clear and neat\n On the rain-pool at my feet.\n Should a leaflet come to land\n Drifting near to where I stand,\n Straight I'll board that tiny boat\n Round the rain-pool sea to float.\n\n Little thoughtful creatures sit\n On the grassy coasts of it;\n Little things with lovely eyes\n See me sailing with surprise.\n Some are clad in armor green--\n (These have sure to battle been!)\n Some are pied with ev'ry hue,\n Black and crimson, gold and blue;\n Some have wings and swift are gone;--\n But they all look kindly on.\n\n When my eyes I once again\n Open and see all things plain;\n High bare walls, great bare floor;\n Great big knobs on drawer and door;\n Great big people perched on chairs,\n Stitching tucks and mending tears,\n Each a hill that I could climb,\n And talking nonsense all the time--\n O dear me,\n That I could be\n A sailor on the rain-pool sea,\n A climber in the clover-tree,\n And just come back, a sleepy-head,\n Late at night to go to bed.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA LOBSTER QUADRILLE\n\n \"Will you walk a little faster?\" said a whiting to a snail,\n \"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.\n See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!\n They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?\n Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?\n Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?\n\n \"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be\n When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!\"\n But the snail replied, \"Too far, too far!\" and gave a look askance--\n Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.\n Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance,\n Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.\n\n \"What matters it how far we go?\" his scaly friend replied,\n \"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.\n The further off from England the nearer is to France--\n Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.\n Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?\n Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?\"\n\nLEWIS CARROLL\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWHERE GO THE BOATS?\n\n Dark brown is the river,\n Golden is the sand.\n It flows along forever\n With trees on either hand.\n\n Green leaves a-floating,\n Castles of the foam,\n Boats of mine a-boating--\n Where will all come home?\n\n On goes the river\n And out past the mill,\n Away down the valley,\n Away down the hill.\n\n Away down the river,\n A hundred miles or more,\n Other little children\n Shall bring my boats ashore.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WIND AND THE MOON\n\n Said the Wind to the Moon, \"I will blow you out;\n You stare\n In the air\n Like a ghost in a chair,\n Always looking what I am about--\n I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out.\"\n\n The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon.\n So, deep\n On a heap\n Of clouds to sleep,\n Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon,\n Muttering low, \"I've done for that Moon.\"\n\n He turned in his bed; she was there again!\n On high\n In the sky,\n With her one ghost eye,\n The Moon shone white and alive and plain.\n Said the Wind, \"I will blow you out again.\"\n\n The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim.\n \"With my sledge,\n And my wedge,\n I have knocked off her edge!\n If only I blow right fierce and grim,\n The creature will soon be dimmer than dim.\"\n\n He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread,\n \"One puff\n More's enough\n To blow her to snuff!\n One good puff more where the last was bred,\n And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread.\"\n\n He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone.\n In the air\n Nowhere\n Was a moonbeam bare;\n Far off and harmless the shy stars shone--\n Sure and certain the Moon was gone!\n\n The Wind he took to his revels once more;\n On down,\n In town,\n Like a merry-mad clown,\n He leaped and hallooed with whistle and roar--\n \"What's that?\" The glimmering thread once more!\n\n He flew in a rage--he danced and blew;\n But in vain\n Was the pain\n Of his bursting brain;\n For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew,\n The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew.\n\n Slowly she grew--till she filled the night,\n And shone\n On her throne\n In the sky alone,\n A matchless, wonderful silvery light,\n Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night.\n\n Said the Wind: \"What a marvel of power am I!\n With my breath,\n Good faith!\n I blew her to death--\n First blew her away right out of the sky--\n Then blew her in; what strength have I!\"\n\n But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair;\n For high\n In the sky,\n With her one white eye,\n Motionless, miles above the air,\n She had never heard the great Wind blare.\n\nGEORGE MACDONALD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWHERE ARE YOU GOING, MY PRETTY MAID?\n\n \"Where are you going, my pretty maid?\"\n \"I am going a-milking, sir,\" she said.\n \"May I go with you, my pretty maid?\"\n \"You're kindly welcome, sir,\" she said.\n \"What is your father, my pretty maid?\"\n \"My father's a farmer, sir,\" she said.\n \"What is your fortune, my pretty maid?\"\n \"My face is my fortune, sir,\" she said.\n \"Then I won't marry your my pretty maid.\"\n \"Nobody asked you, sir,\" she said.\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOST DOLL\n\n I once had a sweet little doll, dears,\n The prettiest doll in the world;\n Her cheeks were so red and white, dears,\n And her hair was so charmingly curled.\n But I lost my poor little doll, dears,\n As I played on the heath one day;\n And I cried for her more than a week, dears,\n But I never could find where she lay.\n\n I found my poor little doll, dears,\n As I played on the heath one day;\n Folks say she is terribly changed, dears,\n For her paint is all washed away,\n And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears,\n And her hair not the least bit curled;\n Yet for old sake's sake, she is still, dears,\n The prettiest doll in the world.\n\nCHARLES KINGSLEY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFOREIGN LANDS\n\n Up into the cherry tree\n Who should climb but little me?\n I held the trunk with both my hands\n And looked abroad on foreign lands.\n\n I saw the next-door garden lie,\n Adorned with flowers, before my eye,\n And many pleasant faces more\n That I had never seen before.\n\n I saw the dimpling river pass\n And be the sky's blue looking-glass;\n The dusty roads go up and down\n With people tramping in to town.\n\n If I could find a higher tree\n Farther and farther I should see,\n To where the grown-up river slips\n Into the sea among the ships,\n\n To where the roads on either hand\n Lead onward into fairy land,\n Where all the children dine at five,\n And all the playthings come alive.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBED IN SUMMER\n\n In winter I get up at night\n And dress by yellow candle-light.\n In summer, quite the other way,\n I have to go to bed by day.\n\n I have to go to bed and see\n The birds still hopping on the tree,\n Or hear the grown-up people's feet\n Still going past me in the street.\n\n And does it not seem hard to you,\n When all the sky is clear and blue,\n And I should like so much to play,\n To have to go to bed by day?\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTRY AGAIN\n\n 'Tis a lesson you should heed,\n Try, try, try again;\n If at first you don't succeed,\n Try, try, try again.\n\n Once or twice though you should fail\n Try again;\n If you would at last prevail,\n Try again.\n If we strive, 'tis no disgrace\n Though we may not win the race;\n What should you do in that case?\n Try again.\n\n If you find your task is hard,\n Try again;\n Time will bring you your reward,\n Try again.\n All that other folks can do,\n With your patience should not you?\n Only keep this rule in view--\n Try again.\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA GOOD PLAY\n\n We built a ship upon the stairs\n All made of the back-bedroom chairs,\n And filled it full of sofa pillows\n To go a-sailing on the billows.\n\n We took a saw and several nails,\n And water in the nursery pails;\n And Tom said, \"Let us also take\n An apple and a slice of cake;\"--\n Which was enough for Tom and me\n To go a-sailing on, till tea.\n\n We sailed along for days and days,\n And had the very best of plays;\n But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,\n So there was no one left but me.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nGOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING\n\n A fair little girl sat under a tree\n Sewing as long as her eyes could see;\n Then smoothed her work and folded it right,\n And said, \"Dear work, good night, good night!\"\n\n Such a number of rooks came over her head,\n Crying, \"Caw, caw!\" on their way to bed,\n She said, as she watched their curious flight,\n \"Little black things, good night, good night!\"\n\n The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,\n The sheep's \"Bleat! bleat!\" came over the road;\n All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,\n \"Good little girl, good night, good night!\"\n\n She did not say to the sun, \"Good night!\"\n Though she saw him there like a ball of light;\n For she knew he had God's time to keep\n All over the world and never could sleep.\n\n The tall pink foxglove bowed his head;\n The violets courtesied, and went to bed;\n And good little Lucy tied up her hair,\n And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.\n\n And, while on her pillow she softly lay,\n She knew nothing more till again it was day;\n And all things said to the beautiful sun,\n \"Good morning, good morning! our work is begun.\"\n\nRICHARD MONCKTON MILNES\n(LORD HOUGHTON)\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WIND\n\n I saw you toss the kites on high\n And blow the birds about the sky;\n And all around I heard you pass,\n Like ladies' skirts across the grass--\n O wind, a-blowing all day long,\n O wind, that sings so loud a song!\n\n I saw the different things you did,\n But always you yourself you hid.\n I felt you push, I heard you call,\n I could not see yourself at all--\n O wind, a-blowing all day long,\n O wind, that sings so loud a song!\n\n O you that are so strong and cold,\n O blower, are you young or old?\n Are you a beast of field and tree,\n Or just a stronger child than me?\n O wind, a-blowing all day long,\n O wind, that sings so loud a song!\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPIDER AND THE FLY\n\n \"Will you walk into my parlor?\" said the spider to the fly;\n \"'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.\n The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,\n And I have many curious things to show when you are there.\"\n \"Oh no, no,\" said the little fly; \"to ask me is in vain,\n For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.\"\n\n \"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high.\n Will you rest upon my little bed?\" said the spider to the fly.\n \"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,\n And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in!\"\n \"Oh no, no,\" said the little fly, \"for I've often heard it said,\n They never, never wake again who sleep upon your bed!\"\n\n Said the cunning spider to the fly: \"Dear friend, what can I do\n To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you?\n I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice;\n I'm sure you're very welcome--will you please to take a slice?\"\n \"Oh no, no,\" said the little fly; \"kind sir, that cannot be:\n I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!\"\n\n \"Sweet creature!\" said the spider, \"you're witty and you're wise;\n How handsome are your gauzy wings; how brilliant are your eyes!\n I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;\n If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.\"\n \"I thank you, gentle sir,\" she said, \"for what you're pleased to say,\n And, bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day.\"\n\n The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,\n For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again:\n So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,\n And set his table ready to dine upon the fly;\n Then came out to his door again, and merrily did sing:\n \"Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with pearl and silver wing;\n Your robes are green and purple; there's a crest upon your head;\n Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!\"\n\n Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly,\n Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;\n With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,\n Thinking only of her brilliant eyes and green and purple hue,\n Thinking only of her crested head. Poor, foolish thing! at last\n Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast;\n He dragged her up his winding stair, into the dismal den--\n Within his little parlor--but she ne'er came out again!\n\n And now, dear little children, who may this story read,\n To idle, silly, flattering words I pray you ne'er give heed;\n Unto an evil counselor close heart and ear and eye,\n And take a lesson from this tale of the spider and the fly.\n\nMARY HOWITT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLET DOGS DELIGHT TO BARK AND BITE\n\n Let dogs delight to bark and bite,\n For God hath made them so;\n Let bears and lions growl and fight,\n For 'tis their nature to;\n\n But, children, you should never let\n Your angry passions rise:\n Your little hands were never made\n To tear each other's eyes.\n\n Let love through all your actions run,\n And all your words be mild;\n Live like the bless\u00e8d Virgin's Son,--\n That sweet and lovely child.\n\n His soul was gentle as a lamb;\n And as his stature grew,\n He grew in favor both with man\n And God his father, too.\n\n Now, Lord of all, he reigns above;\n And from his heavenly throne,\n He sees what children dwell in love,\n And marks them for his own.\n\nISAAC WATTS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCHILD'S EVENING HYMN\n\n Now the day is over,\n Night is drawing nigh,\n Shadows of the evening\n Steal across the sky.\n\n Now the darkness gathers,\n Stars begin to peep,\n Birds and beasts and flowers\n Soon will be asleep.\n\n Jesu, give the weary\n Calm and sweet repose;\n With thy tenderest blessing\n May our eyelids close.\n\n Grant to little children\n Visions bright of thee;\n Guard the sailors tossing\n On the deep blue sea.\n\n Comfort every sufferer\n Watching late in pain;\n Those who plan some evil\n From their sin restrain.\n\n Through the long night-watches\n May thine angels spread\n Their white wings above me,\n Watching round my bed.\n\n When the morning wakens,\n Then may I arise\n Pure and fresh and sinless\n In thy holy eyes.\n\n Glory to the Father,\n Glory to the Son,\n And to thee, blessed Spirit,\n Whilst all ages run. AMEN.\n\nSABINE BARING-GOULD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCHILDREN'S FAVORITE STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHANSEL AND GRETEL\n\n\nMany years ago, a woodcutter and his wife, with their two children,\nHansel and Gretel, lived upon the outskirts of a dense wood. They were\nvery poor, so that when a famine fell upon the land, and bread became\ndear, they could no longer afford to buy sufficient food for the whole\nfamily.\n\nOne night, as the poor man lay tossing on his hard bed, he cried aloud\nin his grief and anguish:\n\n\"Alas! what will become of us? How can I feed my hungry little ones\nwhen we have no food for ourselves?\"\n\n\"Listen to me, good-man,\" answered his wife, who was stepmother to the\nchildren. \"As it is no longer possible for us to keep our children, we\nwill take them into the wood with us tomorrow, light a fire for them,\nand give each a piece of bread and leave them. They will not easily\nfind their way back, and so we shall be rid of the burden of them.\"\n\nBut the father said: \"No, no! I could not find it in my heart to\nleave my darlings to perish. The wild beasts would tear them limb from\nlimb.\"\n\n\"Then,\" answered the wife, \"we must all four die of hunger.\" She gave\nher husband no peace until he promised to do as she wished, and at\nlast, very unwillingly, he consented.\n\nNow, the two children had been too hungry to go to sleep that night,\nand so it happened that they overheard all that their parents were\nsaying. Gretel wept bitterly, but brave little Hansel did his best to\ncomfort her. \"Don't be afraid,\" he said; \"I will take care of you.\"\n\nAs soon as his father and stepmother were asleep, he slipped on his\ncoat, and-opening the door softly, went out into the garden. The moon\nwas shining brightly, and by its light he could see the little white\npebbles that lay scattered in front of the house, shining like little\npieces of silver. He stooped and filled his pockets as full as he\ncould, and then went back to Gretel, and once more bidding her be\ncomforted, for God would be sure to watch over them, he jumped into\nbed, and they both fell fast asleep.\n\nEarly in the morning, before the sun had risen, the stepmother came\nand wakened the children. \"Rise, little lie-a-beds,\" she said, \"and\ncome with us into the wood to gather fuel.\"\n\nShe gave them each a piece of bread for their dinner, and told them to\nbe sure not to eat it too soon, for they would get nothing more.\n\nGretel carried the bread in her pinafore, because Hansel had his\npockets full, and then they all set out upon their way to the wood.\n\nAs they trudged along, the father noticed that his little son kept\nturning back to look at the house. \"Take care, my boy,\" he said, \"or\nyou will slip. What are you looking at so earnestly?\"\n\n\"I am watching my kitten, father: she is sitting on the roof to bid me\ngood-by.\"\n\n\"Silly little lad, that is not your cat,\" said the stepmother; \"it is\nonly the morning sun shining on the chimney.\"\n\nBut Hansel had not been watching his cat at all; he had stayed behind\nto drop the pebbles upon the path.\n\nWhen they reached the thickest part of the forest, the father bade the\nchildren gather wood, that he might kindle a fire for them, so that\nthey might rest beside it and warm themselves whilst he and his wife\nwere cutting the fuel. So they gathered a pile of brushwood and twigs,\nand as soon as it was well alight, the parents left them, promising to\nreturn as soon as they had finished their work.\n\nHansel and Gretel sat down by the fire, and when midday came they ate\ntheir bread and sat listening to the strokes of their father's axe,\nthinking all the time that he was near to them. But what they heard\nwas only a dry branch which the man had bound to a tree, so that the\nwind swung it hither and thither, and the noise it made deceived the\nchildren. At last the poor, tired, little eyelids closed, and, side by\nside, brother and sister fell asleep.\n\nWhen they awoke, the night was very dark, and Gretel was frightened,\nand began to cry. Hansel put his arms around her and whispered. \"Wait,\ndearie, till the moon rises; we shall soon find our way home then.\"\n\nAs soon as the bright moon rose, Hansel took his little sister by the\nhand, and all night long they followed the track of the little white\npebbles, until at daybreak they came to their father's house.\n\nThey knocked at the door, and no sooner did the stepmother open it\nthan she began to scold them for having stayed out so long in the\nwood; but the father greeted them kindly, for he had grieved sorely\nfor his little ones.\n\nIn a short time they were as badly off as ever, and one night they\nagain heard their mother trying to persuade her husband to take them\nout into the wood and lose them. \"There is nothing left in the house\nbut half a loaf of bread,\" she said; \"for our own sakes it is better\nto get rid of the children; but this time we will lead them farther\naway, so that they will not be able to find their way home.\"\n\nBut the man would not agree. \"Better to divide our last morsel with\nthem,\" he said, \"and then die together.\"\n\nHis wife would not listen to what he said, but scolded him for his\nwant of thought for her; and at last the poor man gave way a second\ntime, just as he had done at first.\n\nBut the children had overheard all that was said, and as soon as the\nmother and father were asleep, Hansel stole down to the door, meaning\nto go and collect pebbles as he had done before; but the door was\nlocked and bolted, and he could not get out. \"Never mind, Gretel,\" he\nsaid consolingly, \"the good God will surely help us.\"\n\nEarly in the morning the woman wakened the children, and, giving them\na small piece of bread, bade them follow her and their father into the\nwood. As they went, Hansel crumbled his morsel of bread in his pocket\nand strewed the crumbs upon the path.\n\n\"Come, Hansel,\" said the father, \"don't loiter so, sonny. What can you\nsee to stare at so often?\"\n\n\"My little dove, father. It is sitting on the housetop, bidding me\ngood-by.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" said the woman, \"it is not your dove; it is only the\nrising sun shining upon the chimney.\"\n\nHansel did not answer, but he went on strewing his crumbs carefully\nuntil the last morsel of bread was gone.\n\nDeeper and deeper into the wood they went, where the children had\nnever been before. There a great fire was kindled, and the mother\nsaid: \"Stay here, children, whilst your father and I go to cut wood.\nIf you are tired you may sleep a while, and we will fetch you when it\nis time to go home.\"\n\nWhen dinner-time came, Gretel divided her piece of bread with Hansel,\nbecause he had scattered all his share upon the road; and then they\nwent to sleep. The evening shadows fell, but still no one came to\nfetch the poor children, and it was not until midnight that they\nawakened.\n\nHansel put his arms round his sister and told her not to fear, for\nwhen the moon rose they would easily be able to see the crumbs, and so\nfind their way home again.\n\nSo when the moon rose they set out upon their way; but alas! there\nwere no crumbs to be seen, for the little birds that lived in the\ngreen wood were as hungry as the children, and had eaten them all up.\n\n\"We will find the way somehow,\" cried cheerful little Hansel; but\nthough they traveled all night long, and the next day too, they could\nnot find it. Poor little mites, how tired and hungry they were, for\nthey had nothing to eat but the berries that grew by the roadside!\n\nWhen at length the weary little feet could go no farther, the children\nlay down beneath a tree and slept.\n\nOn the third day they were still as far away as ever, and it seemed\nto them that the longer they walked the deeper they got into the wood,\nand they began to be afraid that they would die of cold and hunger.\n\nBut presently, when the midday sun was shining brightly, they noticed\na little snow-white bird singing so sweetly that they could not help\nbut stay to listen. When the birdie's song was ended, he spread his\nwings and flew away.\n\nThe children followed him until they reached a little house, on the\nroof of which he perched. Then the children saw with surprise that the\nstrange little house was built entirely of bread, roofed with cakes,\nand with windows of barley sugar.\n\n\"See, Gretel,\" cried Hansel joyfully, \"there is food for us in\nplenty. I will take a piece of the roof, and you shall have one of the\nwindows.\"\n\nHe stretched out his hand to help himself, and Gretel had already\nbegun to nibble one of the window-panes, when suddenly they heard a\nvoice call from within:--\n\n \"Nibbly, nibbly, mouse!\n Who's nibbling at my house?\"\n\nThe children answered quickly:--\n\n \"'Tis my Lady Wind that blows,\n As round about the house she goes.\"\n\nAnd then they went on eating as though nothing had happened for the\ncake of which the roof was made just suited Hansel's taste, whilst the\nbarley-sugar window-panes were better than any sweetmeat Gretel had\never tasted before.\n\nAll at once the door of the cottage flew wide open, and out came an\nold, old woman, leaning upon a crutch. The children were so frightened\nthat they dropped their food and clung to each other.\n\nThe old woman nodded her head to them, and said: \"Who brought you\nhere, my pets? Come inside, come inside; no one will hurt you.\"\n\nShe took their hands and led them into the house, and set before them\nall kinds of delicious foods, milk, sugared pancakes, apples, and\nnuts. When they had finished their meal she showed them two cosy\nlittle white beds, and as Hansel and Gretel lay snugly tucked up in\nthem, they thought to themselves that surely they had now found the\nmost delightful place in the whole wide world.\n\nBut the old woman had only pretended to be friendly and kind, for she\nwas really a wicked old witch, who was always lying in wait to catch\nlittle children, indeed, she had built the little house of bread and\ncakes especially to entice them in. Whenever anyone came into her\npower, she cooked and ate him, and thought what a fine feast she had\nhad.\n\nWitches have red eyes and cannot see far, but they have keen scent,\nlike animals, and can tell at once when a human being is near to them.\n\nAs soon as Hansel and Gretel came into her neighborhood she laughed to\nherself and said mockingly: \"Ha, ha! they are mine already; they will\nnot easily escape me.\"\n\nEarly in the morning, before the children were awake, she stood beside\nthem and admired their rosy cheeks and soft round limbs.\n\n\"What nice tit-bits for me,\" murmured she. Then, seizing Hansel by the\nhand, she led him to a little stable, and, in spite of his cries and\nscreams, shut him up and left him. Then she shook Gretel until she\nwas awake, and bade her get up at once and carry food and drink to her\nbrother, and it must be of the best too, for she wished to fatten him.\n\n\"When he is nice and plump, I shall eat him,\" said the cruel old\nwitch. Gretel wept bitterly, but it was quite in vain, for she was\nobliged to do the witch's bidding; and every day she cooked the\nchoicest food for her brother, while she herself lived upon nothing\nbut oyster-shells.\n\nDay by day the old woman visited the stable and called to Hansel to\nput his finger through the window bars, that she might see if he were\ngetting fat; but the little fellow held out a bone instead, and as her\neyes were dim with age, she mistook the bone for the boy's finger,\nand thought how thin and lean he was. When a whole month had passed\nwithout Hansel becoming the least bit fatter, the old witch lost\npatience and declared she would wait no longer. \"Hurry, Gretel,\" she\nsaid to the little girl, \"fill the pot with water, for to-morrow, be\nhe lean or fat, Hansel shall be cooked for my dinner.\"\n\nThe tears chased each other down Gretel's cheeks as she carried in the\nwater, and she sobbed aloud in her grief. \"Dear God,\" she cried, \"we\nhave no one to help us but Thou. Alas! if only the wild beasts in the\nwood had devoured us, at least we should have died together.\"\n\n\"Cease your chattering,\" cried the old witch angrily. \"It will not\nhelp you, so you may as well be still.\"\n\nThe next morning poor Gretel was forced to light the fire and hang the\ngreat pot of water over it, and then the witch said: \"First we will\nbake. I have kneaded the dough, and heated the oven; you shall creep\ninside it to see if it is hot enough to bake the bread.\"\n\nBut Gretel guessed that the old witch meant to shut the door upon her\nand roast her, so she pretended that she did not know how to get in.\n\n\"Silly goose,\" said the witch. \"The door is wide enough, to be sure.\nWhy, even I could get inside it.\" As she spoke, she popped her head\ninto the oven. In a moment Gretel sprang towards her, pushed her\ninside, shut the iron door, and shot the bolt. Oh! how she squealed\nand shrieked, but Gretel ran off as fast as she could, and so there\nwas an end of the cruel old witch.\n\nQuick as thought, Gretel ran to her brother. \"We are saved, Hansel,\"\nshe cried, opening the door of the stable, \"the wicked old witch is\ndead.\"\n\nHansel flew from his prison as a bird from its cage, and the two happy\nlittle children kissed each other and jumped for joy. No longer afraid\nof the old witch, they entered the house, hand in hand, and then\nthey saw that in every corner of the room were boxes of pearls and\ndiamonds, and all kinds of precious gems.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Hansel merrily, \"these are better than pebbles, Gretel,\"\nand he stuffed his pockets with the jewels, whilst Gretel filled her\npinafore. \"Now,\" said Hansel, \"we will leave the witch's wood behind\nus as fast as we can.\"\n\nSo off they ran, and never stopped until they came to a lake, upon\nwhich swam a large white duck.\n\n\"How can we cross,\" said Hansel, \"for there is no bridge anywhere?\"\n\n\"And no ship either,\" Gretel answered; \"but we will ask the pretty\nwhite duck to carry us over.\" So they cried aloud:--\n\n \"Little duck, little duck,\n With wings so white,\n Carry us over\n The waters bright.\"\n\nThe duck came at once, and, taking Hansel upon her back, carried him\nover to the other side, and then did the same for Gretel. They went\nmerrily on their way, and very soon they found themselves in a part of\nthe wood they knew quite well.\n\nWhen they saw the roof of their father's house in the distance they\nbegan to run, and, breathless with haste, half laughing and half\ncrying, they rushed into the cottage and flung themselves into their\nfather's arms.\n\nOh! how pleased he was to see them once again, for he had not known a\nhappy hour since he had left them alone in the wood. Gretel shook out\nher pinafore, and Hansel emptied his pockets, and the floor of the\nlittle room was quite covered with glittering precious stones.\n\nSo now their troubles were at an end, for the cruel stepmother was\ndead, and Hansel and Gretel and their father lived together happily\never after.\n\nMy story is ended, and see, there runs a little mouse, and the first\nwho catches him shall have a fur cap made from his skin.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIR CATHERINE AND PIF-PAF POLTRIE\n\n\n\"Good day, Father Hollenthe. How do you do?\" \"Very well, I thank you,\nPif-paf Poltrie.\" \"May I marry your daughter?\" \"Oh, yes! if the mother\nMalcho (_Milk-Cow_), the brother Hohenstolz (_High and Mighty_), the\nsister K\u00e2setraut (_Cheese-maker_), and the fair Catherine are willing,\nit may be so.\"\n\n\"Where is, then, the mother Malcho?\"\n\n\"In the stable, milking the cow.\"\n\n\"Good day, mother Malcho. How do you do?\" \"Very well, I thank you,\nPif-paf Poltrie.\" \"May I marry your daughter?\" \"Oh, yes! if the father\nHollenthe, the brother Hohenstolz, the sister K\u00e2setraut, and the fair\nCatherine are willing, it may be so.\"\n\n\"Where is, then, the brother Hohenstolz?\"\n\n\"In the yard, chopping up the wood.\"\n\n\"Good day, brother Hohenstolz. How are you?\" \"Very well, I thank you,\nPif-paf Poltrie.\" \"May I marry your sister?\" \"Oh, yes! if the father\nHollenthe, the mother Malcho, the sister K\u00e2setraut, and the fair\nCatherine are willing, it may be so.\n\n\"Where is, then, the sister K\u00e2setraut?\"\n\n\"In the garden, cutting the cabbages.\"\n\n\"Good day, sister K\u00e2setraut. How do you do?\" \"Very well, I thank you,\nPif-paf Poltrie.\" \"May I marry your sister?\" \"Oh, yes! if the father\nHollenthe, the mother Malcho, the brother Hohenstolz, and the fair\nCatherine are willing, it may be so.\"\n\n\"Where is, then, the fair Catherine?\"\n\n\"In her chamber, counting out her pennies.\"\n\n\"Good day, fair Catherine. How do you do?\" \"Very well, I thank you,\nPif-paf Poltrie.\" \"Will you be my bride?\" \"Oh, yes! if the father\nHollenthe, the mother Malcho, the brother Hohenstolz, and the sister\nK\u00e2setraut are willing, so am I.\"\n\n\"How much money have you, fair Catherine?\"\n\n\"Fourteen pennies in bare money, two and a half farthings owing to me,\nhalf a pound of dried apples, a handful of prunes, and a handful of\nroots; and don't you call that a capital dowry? Pif-paf Poltrie, what\ntrade are you? Are you a tailor?\"\n\n\"Better than that.\"\n\n\"A shoemaker?\"\n\n\"Better still!\"\n\n\"A plowman?\"\n\n\"Better still!\"\n\n\"A joiner?\"\n\n\"Better still!\"\n\n\"A smith?\"\n\n\"Better still!\"\n\n\"A miller?\"\n\n\"Better still!\"\n\n\"Perhaps a broom-binder?\"\n\n\"Yes, so I am; now, is not that a pretty trade?\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE FOX\n\n\nA wolf, once upon a time, caught a fox. It happened one day that\nthey were both going through the forest, and the wolf said to his\ncompanion: \"Get me some food, or I will eat you up.\"\n\nThe fox replied: \"I know a farmyard where there are a couple of young\nlambs, which, if you wish, we will fetch.\"\n\nThis proposal pleased the wolf, so they went, and the fox, stealing\nfirst one of the lambs, brought it to the wolf, and then ran away. The\nwolf devoured it quickly, but was not contented, and went to fetch the\nother lamb by himself, but he did it so awkwardly that he aroused the\nattention of the mother, who began to cry and bleat loudly, so that\nthe peasants ran up. There they found the wolf, and beat him so\nunmercifully that he ran, howling and limping, to the fox, and said:\n\"You have led me to a nice place, for, when I went to fetch the other\nlamb, the peasants came and beat me terribly!\"\n\n\"Why are you such a glutton, then?\" asked the fox.\n\nThe next day they went again into the fields, and the covetous wolf\nsaid to the fox: \"Get me something to eat now, or I will devour you!\"\n\nThe fox said he knew a country house where the cook was going that\nevening to make some pancakes, and thither they went. When they\narrived, the fox sneaked and crept around round the house, until he at\nlast discovered where the dish was standing, out of which he stole six\npancakes, and took them to the wolf, saying, \"There is something for\nyou to eat!\" and then ran away. The wolf dispatched these in a minute\nor two, and, wishing to taste some more, he went and seized the dish,\nbut took it away so hurriedly that it broke in pieces. The noise of\nits fall brought out the woman, who, as soon as she saw the wolf,\ncalled her people, who, hastening up, beat him with such a good will\nthat he ran home to the fox, howling, with two lame legs! \"What a\nhorrid place you have drawn me into now,\" cried he; \"the peasants have\ncaught me, and dressed my skin finely!\"\n\n\"Why, then, are you such a glutton?\" said the fox.\n\nWhen they went out again the third day, the wolf limping along with\nweariness, he said to the fox: \"Get me something to eat now, or I will\ndevour you!\"\n\nThe fox said he knew a man who had just killed a pig, and salted the\nmeat down in a cask in his cellar, and that they could get at it. The\nwolf replied that he would go with him on condition that he helped him\nif he could not escape. \"Oh, of course I will, on mine own account!\"\nsaid the fox, and showed him the tricks and ways by which they could\nget into the cellar. When they went in there was meat in abundance,\nand the wolf was enraptured at the sight. The fox, too, had a taste,\nbut kept looking round while eating, and ran frequently to the hole\nby which they had entered, to see if his body would slip through it\neasily. Presently the wolf asked: \"Why are you running about so,\nyou fox, jumping in and out?\" \"I want to see if any one is coming,\"\nreplied the fox cunningly; \"but mind you do not eat too much!\"\n\nThe wolf said he would not leave till the cask was quite empty;\nand meanwhile the peasant, who had heard the noise made by the fox,\nentered the cellar. The fox, as soon as he saw him, made a spring,\nand was through the hole in a jiffy; and the wolf tried to follow his\nexample, but he had eaten so much that his body was too big for the\nopening, and he stuck fast. Then came the peasant with a cudgel, and\nbeat him sorely; but the fox leaped away into the forest, very glad to\nget rid of the old glutton.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nDISCREET HANS\n\n\nHans's mother asked: \"Whither are you going, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's,\"\nreplied he. \"Behave well, Hans.\" \"I will take care; good-by, mother.\"\n\"Good-by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day,\" said he. \"Good day,\" replied\nGrethel, \"what treasure do you bring to-day?\" \"I bring nothing.\nHave you anything to give?\" Grethel presented Hans with a needle.\n\"Good-by,\" said he. \"Good-by, Hans.\" Hans took the needle, stuck it in\na load of hay, and walked home behind the wagon.\n\n\"Good evening, mother.\" \"Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?\" \"To\nGrethel's.\" \"And what have you given her?\" \"Nothing; she has given me\nsomething.\" \"What has Grethel given you?\" \"A needle,\" said Hans. \"And\nwhere have you put it?\" \"In the load of hay.\" \"Then you have behaved\nstupidly, Hans; you should put needles on your coat-sleeve.\" \"To\nbehave better, do nothing at all,\" thought Hans.\n\n\"Whither are you going, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"Behave well,\nHans.\" \"I will take care; good-by, mother.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day,\" said he. \"Good day, Hans. What\ntreasure do you bring?\" \"I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?\"\nGrethel gave Hans a knife. \"Good-by, Grethel.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\" Hans\ntook the knife, put it in his sleeve, and went home.\n\n\"Good evening, mother.\" \"Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?\" \"To\nGrethel's.\" \"And what did you take to her?\" \"I took nothing; she has\ngiven to me.\" \"And what did she give you?\" \"A knife,\" said Hans.\n\"And where have you put it?\" \"In my sleeve.\" \"Then you have behaved\nfoolishly again, Hans; you should put knives in your pocket.\" \"To\nbehave better, do nothing at all,\" thought Hans.\n\n\"Whither are you going, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"Behave well,\nHans.\" \"I will take care; good-by, mother.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day, Grethel.\" \"Good day, Hans. What\ntreasure do you bring?\" \"I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?\"\nGrethel gave Hans a young goat. \"Good-by, Grethel.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\"\nHans took the goat, tied its legs, and put it in his pocket.\n\nJust as he reached home it was suffocated. \"Good evening, mother.\"\n\"Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?\" \"To Grethel's.\" \"And what\ndid you take to her?\" \"I took nothing; she gave to me.\" \"And what\ndid Grethel give you?\" \"A goat.\" \"Where did you put it, Hans?\" \"In\nmy pocket.\" \"There you acted stupidly, Hans; you should have tied the\ngoat with a rope.\" \"To behave better, do nothing,\" thought Hans.\n\n\"Whither away, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"Behave well, Hans.\"\n\"I'll take care; good-by, mother.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day,\" said he. \"Good day, Hans. What\ntreasure do you bring?\" \"I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?\"\nGrethel gave Hans a piece of bacon. \"Good-by, Grethel.\" \"Good-by,\nHans.\" Hans took the bacon, tied it with a rope, and swung it to and\nfro so that the dogs came and ate it up. When he reached home he held\nthe rope in his hand, but there was nothing on it.\n\n\"Good evening, mother,\" said he. \"Good evening, Hans. Where have you\nbeen?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"What did you take there?\" \"I took\nnothing; she gave to me.\" \"And what did Grethel give you?\" \"A piece\nof bacon,\" said Hans. \"And where have you put it?\" \"I tied it with\na rope, swung it about, and the dogs came and ate it up.\" \"There you\nacted stupidly, Hans; you should have carried the bacon on your head.\"\n\"To behave better, do nothing,\" thought Hans.\n\n\"Whither away, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"Behave well, Hans.\"\n\"I'll take care; good-by, mother.\" \"Good-by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day,\" said he. \"Good day, Hans. What\ntreasure do you bring?\" \"I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?\"\nGrethel gave Hans a calf. \"Good-by,\" said Hans. \"Good-by.\" Hans took\nthe calf, set it on his head, and the calf scratched his face.\n\n\"Good evening, mother.\" \"Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?\" \"To\nGrethel's.\" \"What did you take her?\" \"I took nothing; she gave to me.\"\n\"And what did Grethel give you?\" \"A calf,\" said Hans. \"And what did\nyou do with it?\" \"I set it on my head, and it kicked my face.\" \"Then\nyou acted stupidly, Hans; you should have led the calf home, and put\nit in the stall.\" \"To behave better, do nothing,\" thought Hans.\n\n\"Whither away, Hans?\" \"To Grethel's, mother.\" \"Behave well, Hans.\"\n\"I'll take care; good-by, mother.\" \"Good by, Hans.\"\n\nHans came to Grethel. \"Good day,\" said he. \"Good day, Hans. What\ntreasure do you bring?\" \"I bring nothing. Have you anything to give?\"\nGrethel said: \"I will go with you, Hans.\" Hans tied a rope round\nGrethel, led her home, put her in the stall, and made the rope fast;\nand then he went to his mother.\n\n\"Good evening, mother.\" \"Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?\"\n\"To Grethel's.\" \"What did you take her?\" \"I took nothing.\" \"What did\nGrethel give you?\" \"She gave nothing; she came with me.\" \"And where\nhave you left her, then?\" \"I tied her with a rope, put her in the\nstall, and threw in some grass.\" \"Then you acted stupidly, Hans; you\nshould have looked at her with friendly eyes.\" \"To behave better,\ndo nothing,\" thought Hans; and then he went into the stall, and made\nsheep's eyes at Grethel.\n\nAnd after that Grethel became Hans's wife.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nPUSS IN BOOTS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a miller, who was so poor that at his death\nhe had nothing to leave to his three children but his mill, his ass,\nand his cat. The eldest son took the mill, and the second the ass, so\nthere was nothing left for poor Jack but to take Puss.\n\nJack could not help thinking that he had been treated shabbily. \"My\nbrothers will be able to earn an honest livelihood,\" he sighed, \"but\nas for me, though Puss may feed himself by catching mice, I shall\ncertainly die of hunger.\"\n\nThe cat, who had overheard his young master, jumped upon his shoulder,\nand, rubbing himself gently against his cheek, began to speak. \"Dear\nmaster,\" said he, \"do not grieve. I am not as useless as you think me,\nand will undertake to make your fortune for you, if only you will buy\nme a pair of boots, and give me that old bag.\"\n\nNow, Jack had very little money to spare, but, knowing Puss to be a\nfaithful old friend, he made up his mind to trust him, and so spent\nall he possessed upon a smart pair of boots made of buff-colored\nleather. They fitted perfectly, so Puss put them on, took the old bag\nwhich his master gave him, and trotted off to a neighboring warren in\nwhich he knew there was a great number of rabbits.\n\nHaving put some bran and fresh parsley into the bag, he laid it upon\nthe ground, hid himself, and waited. Presently two foolish little\nrabbits, sniffing the food, ran straight into the bag, when the clever\ncat drew the strings and caught them.\n\nThen, slinging the bag over his shoulder, he hastened off to the\npalace, where he asked to speak to the King. Having been shown into\nthe royal presence, he bowed and said:\n\n\"Sire, my Lord the Marquis of Carabas has commanded me to present\nthese rabbits to your Majesty, with his respects.\"\n\nThe monarch having desired his thanks to be given to the Marquis (who,\nas you will guess, was really our poor Jack), then ordered his head\ncook to dress the rabbits for dinner, and he and his daughter partook\nof them with great enjoyment.\n\nDay by day Puss brought home stores of good food, so that he and his\nmaster lived in plenty, and besides that, he did not fail to keep the\nKing and his courtiers well supplied with game.\n\nSometimes he would lay a brace of partridges at the royal feet,\nsometimes a fine large hare, but whatever it was, it always came\nwith the same message: \"From my Lord the Marquis of Carabas\"; so that\neveryone at Court was talking of this strange nobleman, whom no one\nhad ever seen, but who sent such generous presents to his Majesty.\n\nAt length Puss decided that it was time for his master to be\nintroduced at Court. So one day he persuaded him to go and bathe in a\nriver near, having heard that the King would soon pass that way.\n\nJack stood shivering up to his neck in water, wondering what was to\nhappen next, when suddenly the King's carriage appeared in sight. At\nonce Puss began to call out as loudly as he could:\n\n\"Help, help! My Lord the Marquis of Carabas is drowning!\"\n\nThe King put his head out of the carriage window and, recognizing the\ncat, ordered his attendants to go to the assistance of the Marquis.\nWhile Jack was being taken out of the water, Puss ran to the King\nand told him that some robbers had run off with his master's clothes\nwhilst he was bathing, the truth of the matter being that the cunning\ncat had hidden them under a stone.\n\nOn hearing this story the King instantly despatched one of his grooms\nto fetch a handsome suit of purple and gold from the royal wardrobe,\nand arrayed in this, Jack, who was a fine, handsome fellow, looked\nso well that no one for a moment supposed but that he was some noble\nforeign lord.\n\nThe King and his daughter were so pleased with his appearance that\nthey invited him into their carriage. At first Jack hesitated, for he\nfelt a little shy about sitting next to a Princess, but she smiled at\nhim so sweetly, and was so kind and gentle, that he soon forgot his\nfears and fell in love with her there and then.\n\nAs soon as Puss had seen his master seated in the royal carriage, he\nwhispered directions to the coachman, and then ran on ahead as fast\nas he could trot, until he came to a field of corn, where the reapers\nwere busy.\n\n\"Reapers,\" said he fiercely, \"the King will shortly pass this way. If\nhe should ask you to whom this field belongs, remember that you say,\n'To the Marquis of Carabas.' If you dare to disobey me, I will have\nyou all chopped up as fine as mincemeat.\" The reapers were so afraid\nthe cat would keep his word that they promised to obey. Puss then\nran on and told all the other laborers whom he met to give the same\nanswer, threatening them with terrible punishments if they disobeyed.\n\nNow, the King was in a very good humor, for the day was fine, and he\nfound the Marquis a very pleasant companion, so he told the coachman\nto drive slowly, in order that he might admire the beautiful country.\n\"What a fine field of wheat!\" he said presently. \"To whom does it\nbelong?\" Then the men answered as they had been told: \"To our Lord the\nMarquis of Carabas.\" Next they met a herd of cattle, and again to the\nKing's question, \"To whom do they belong?\" they were told, \"To the\nMarquis of Carabas.\" And it was the same with everything they passed.\n\nThe Marquis listened with the greatest astonishment, and thought what\na very wonderful cat his dear Puss was; and the King was delighted to\nfind that his new friend was as wealthy as he was charming.\n\nMeanwhile Puss, who was well in advance of the Royal party, had\narrived at a stately castle, which belonged to a cruel Ogre, the\nrichest ever known, for all the lands the King had admired so much\nbelonged to him. Puss knocked at the door and asked to see the Ogre,\nwho received him quite civilly, for he had never seen a cat in boots\nbefore, and the sight amused him.\n\nSo he and Puss were soon chatting away together.\n\nThe Ogre, who was very conceited, began to boast of what clever tricks\nhe could play, and Puss sat and listened, with a smile on his face.\n\n\"I once heard, great Ogre,\" he said at last, \"that you possessed the\npower of changing yourself into any kind of animal you chose--a lion\nor an elephant, for instance.\"\n\n\"Well, so I can,\" replied the Ogre.\n\n\"Dear me! how much I should like to see you do it now,\" said Puss\nsweetly.\n\nThe Ogre was only too pleased to find a chance of showing how very\nclever he was, so he promised to transform himself into any animal\nPuss might mention.\n\n\"Oh! I will leave the choice to you,\" said the cat politely.\n\nImmediately there appeared where the Ogre had been seated, an enormous\nlion, roaring, and lashing with its tail, and looking as though it\nmeant to gobble the cat up in a trice.\n\nPuss was really very much frightened, and, jumping out of the window,\nmanaged to scramble on to the roof, though he could scarcely hold on\nto the tiles on account of his high-heeled boots.\n\nThere he sat, refusing to come down, until the Ogre changed himself\ninto his natural form, and laughingly called to him that he would not\nhurt him.\n\nThen Puss ventured back into the room, and began to compliment the\nOgre on his cleverness.\n\n\"Of course, it was all very wonderful,\" he said, \"but it would be more\nwonderful still if you, who are so great and fierce, could transform\nyourself into some timid little creature, such as a mouse. That, I\nsuppose, would be quite impossible?\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" said the vain Ogre; \"one is quite as easy to me as the\nother, as I will show you.\" And in a moment a little brown mouse was\nfrisking about all over the floor, whilst the Ogre had vanished.\n\n\"Now or never,\" said Puss, and with a spring he seized the mouse and\ngobbled it up as fast as he could.\n\nAt the same moment all the gentlemen and ladies whom the wicked Ogre\nhad held in his castle under a spell, became disenchanted. They were\nso grateful to their deliverer that they would have done anything\nto please him, and readily agreed to enter into the service of the\nMarquis of Carabas when Puss asked them to do so.\n\nSo now the cat had a splendid castle, which he knew to be full of\nheaped-up treasures, at his command, and ordering a magnificent feast\nto be prepared, he took up his station at the castle gates to welcome\nhis master and the royal party.\n\nAs soon as the castle appeared in sight, the King enquired whose it\nwas, \"For,\" said he, \"I have never seen a finer.\"\n\nThen Puss, bowing low, threw open the castle gates, and cried:\n\n\"May it please your Majesty to alight and enter the home of the most\nnoble the Marquis of Carabas.\"\n\nFull of surprise, the King turned to the Marquis. \"Is this splendid\ncastle indeed yours?\" he asked. \"Not even our own palace is more\nbeautiful, and doubtless it is as splendid within as without.\"\n\nPuss then helped his Majesty to alight, and conducted him into the\ncastle, where a group of noble gentlemen and fair ladies were waiting\nto receive them. Jack, or the Marquis as he was now called, gave\nhis hand to the young Princess, and led her to the banquet. Long and\nmerrily they feasted, and when at length the guests rose to depart,\nthe King embraced the Marquis, and called him his dear son; and the\nPrincess blushed so charmingly and looked so shy and sweet, that Jack\nventured to lay his heart and fortune at her feet.\n\nAnd so the miller's son married the King's daughter, and there were\ngreat rejoicings throughout the land.\n\nOn the evening of the wedding-day a great ball was given, to which\nprinces and noblemen from far and near were invited. Puss opened the\nball, wearing for the occasion a pair of boots made of the finest\nleather, with gold tassels and scarlet heels. I only wish you could\nhave seen him.\n\nWhen the old King died, the Princess and her husband reigned in his\nstead, and their most honored and faithful friend at Court was Puss\nhimself, for his master never forgot to whom he owed all his good\nfortune. He lived upon the daintiest meat and most delicious cream,\nand was petted and made much of all the days of his life, and never\nagain ran after mice and rats, except for exercise and amusement.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER\n\n\nThere was once a shoemaker who, through no fault of his own, had\nbecome so poor that at last he had only leather enough left for one\npair of shoes. At evening he cut out the shoes which he intended to\nbegin upon the next morning, and since he had a good conscience, he\nlay down quietly, said his prayers, and fell asleep.\n\nIn the morning when he had prayed, as usual, and was preparing to\nsit down to work, he found the pair of shoes standing finished on his\ntable. He was amazed, and could not understand it in the least.\n\nHe took the shoes in his hand to examine them more closely. They were\nso neatly sewn that not a stitch was out of place, and were as good\nas the work of a master-hand.\n\nSoon after a purchaser came in, and as he was much pleased with the\nshoes, he paid more than the ordinary price for them, so that the\nshoemaker was able to buy leather for two pairs with the money.\n\nHe cut them out in the evening, and next day, with fresh courage was\nabout to go to work; but he had no need to, for when he got up, the\nshoes were finished, and buyers were not lacking. These gave him so\nmuch money that he was able to buy leather for four pairs of shoes.\n\nEarly next morning he found the four pairs finished, and so it went\non; what he cut out at evening was finished in the morning, so that he\nwas soon again in comfortable circumstances, and became a well-to-do\nman.\n\nNow it happened one evening, not long before Christmas, when he had\ncut out shoes as usual, that he said to his wife: \"How would it be\nif we were to sit up to-night to see who it is that lends us such a\nhelping hand?\"\n\nThe wife agreed, lighted a candle, and they hid themselves in the\ncorner of the room behind the clothes which were hanging there.\n\nAt midnight came two little naked men, who sat down at the shoemaker's\ntable, took up the cut-out work, and began with their tiny fingers\nto stitch, sew, and hammer so neatly and quickly, that the shoemaker\ncould not believe his eyes. They did not stop till everything was\nquite finished, and stood complete on the table; then they ran swiftly\naway.\n\nThe next day the wife said: \"The little men have made us rich, and we\nought to show our gratitude. They run about with nothing on, and\nmust freeze with cold. Now I will make them little shirts, coats,\nwaistcoats, and hose, and will even knit them stout stockings, and you\nshall make them each a pair of shoes.\"\n\nThe husband agreed, and at evening, when they had everything ready,\nthey laid out the presents on the table, and hid themselves to see how\nthe little men would behave.\n\nAt midnight they came skipping in, and were about to set to work; but,\ninstead of the leather ready cut out, they found the charming little\nclothes.\n\nAt first they were surprised, then excessively delighted. With the\ngreatest speed they put on and smoothed down the pretty clothes,\nsinging:\n\n \"Now we're dressed so fine and neat,\n Why cobble more for others' feet?\"\n\nThen they hopped and danced about, and leaped over chairs and tables\nand out at the door. Henceforward, they came back no more, but the\nshoemaker fared well as long as he lived, and had good luck in all his\nundertakings.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHANS IN LUCK\n\n\nHans had served his master seven long years; so he said to him:\n\"Master, my time is out, and my wish is to return home to my mother:\ngive me, if you please, my reward.\"\n\nThe master answered: \"Thou hast truly and faithfully served me; as the\nservice was, so shall the reward be.\" And he gave Hans a piece of gold\nas big as his head.\n\nHans pulled out his handkerchief, wrapped up the lump of gold in it,\nand, throwing it over his shoulder, made his way home. As he went\non his way, always putting one foot before the other, he met a man\ngalloping briskly along on a fine horse.\n\n\"Ah!\" said Hans, quite aloud, \"what a capital thing it is to ride!\nThere you sit as comfortably as in a chair, kicking against no stones,\nsaving your shoe-leather, and getting to your journey's end almost\nwithout knowing it!\"\n\nThe horseman, who heard this, pulled up and cried, \"Hullo, Hans why do\nyou trudge on foot?\"\n\n\"Because I must,\" answered he; \"for I have this big lump to carry\nhome. It is real gold, you know; but, all the same, I can scarcely\nhold up my head, it weighs so terribly on my shoulders.\"\n\n\"I'll tell you what,\" said the horseman: \"we'll just exchange. I'll\ngive you my horse and you give me your lump of gold.\"\n\n\"With all my heart!\" said Hans. \"But I warn you, you'll have a job to\ncarry it.\"\n\nThe horseman dismounted, took the gold, and helped Hans up; and,\ngiving the bridle into his hand, said: \"If you want him to go at full\nspeed, you must cluck with your tongue and cry 'C'ck! c'ck!'\"\n\nHans was heartily delighted, as he sat on his horse and rode gaily\nalong.\n\nAfter a while he fancied he would like to go faster, so he began to\ncluck with his tongue and cry \"C'ck! c'ck!\" The horse broke into a\nsmart trot, and before Hans was aware he was thrown off--splash!--into\na ditch which divided the highway from the fields, and there he lay.\nThe horse, too, would have run away had it not been stopped by a\npeasant, as he came along the road, driving his cow before him.\n\nHans pulled himself together and got upon his legs again. He felt very\ndowncast, and said to the peasant: \"It's a poor joke, that riding,\nespecially when one lights upon such a brute as this, which kicks\nand throws one off so that one comes near to breaking one's neck. You\ndon't catch me on his back again. Now, there's more sense in a cow\nlike yours, behind which you can walk in peace and quietness, besides\nhaving your butter, milk, and cheese every morning for certain. What\nwould I not give for such a cow!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the peasant, \"if it would give you so much pleasure, I\nwill exchange my cow for your horse.\"\n\nHans gladly consented, and the peasant flung himself on the horse and\nrode quickly off.\n\nHans drove the cow peacefully along, thinking: \"What a lucky fellow\nI am! I have just to get a bit of bread (and that isn't a difficult\nmatter) and then, as often as I like, I can eat my butter and cheese\nwith it. If I am thirsty, I just milk my cow and drink. What more\ncould I desire?\"\n\nWhen he came to an inn, he made a stop, and in his great joy ate all\nthe food he had with him right up, both dinner and supper.\n\nWith his two last farthings, he bought himself half a glass of beer.\nThen he drove his cow towards his mother's village.\n\nAs the morning went on, the more oppressive the heat became, and Hans\nfound himself in a field some three miles long.\n\nThen he felt so hot that his tongue was parched with thirst. \"This\nis soon cured,\" thought Hans. \"I have only to milk my cow, drink, and\nrefresh myself.\"\n\nHe tied the cow to a withered tree, and as he had no pitcher he placed\nhis leathern cap underneath her; but in spite of all his trouble not a\ndrop of milk could be got.\n\nAnd he went to work so clumsily that the impatient brute gave him such\na kick with her hind leg that he was knocked over and quite dazed, and\nfor a long time did not know where he was.\n\nLuckily a butcher came by just then, wheeling a young pig in a barrow.\n\n\"What kind of joke is this?\" cried he, helping our friend Hans to\nrise.\n\nHans told him what had happened. The butcher passed him his bottle and\nsaid:\n\n\"There, drink and revive yourself. That cow will never give any milk;\nshe is an old animal and, at the best, is only fit for the plow or the\nbutcher.\"\n\n\"Oho!\" said Hans, running his fingers through his hair. \"Who would\nhave thought it? It is all right indeed when you can slaughter such a\nbeast in your own house. But I don't think much of cow's flesh; it is\nnot tender enough. Now, if one had a young pig! That would taste far\ndifferent, to say nothing of the sausages!\"\n\n\"Listen, Hans,\" said the butcher. \"For your sake, I will exchange, and\nlet you have my pig for your cow.\"\n\n\"May Heaven reward your friendship!\" said Hans, and at once gave him\nthe cow.\n\nThe man untied the pig from the wheelbarrow, and gave the rope with\nwhich it was bound into Hans's hand.\n\nHans marched on, thinking: \"What a lucky fellow I am. As soon as\nanything goes wrong, something turns up and all's right again.\"\n\nJust then, up came a youth, carrying a fine white goose under his arm.\nThey were friends, and Hans began to talk about his luck and how\nhe always came off best in his exchanges. The youth told him he was\ntaking the goose to a christening feast.\n\n\"Just hold it,\" he continued, seizing it by the wings, \"and feel how\nheavy it is: yet it was only fattened for eight weeks. It will be a\nrich morsel when roasted.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Hans, weighing it with his hand, \"it is certainly heavy,\nbut my pig is by no means to be despised.\"\n\nMeanwhile the lad was looking thoughtfully around, shaking his head.\n\"Listen,\" he said, \"I don't think it's all right about your pig. In\nthe village I have just come through, one has lately been stolen from\nthe magistrate's own sty. I fear it is the one you have. They have\nsent people out, and it would be a bad business if they found you with\nthe pig. The least they would do would be to throw you into jail.\"\n\nOur friend Hans was downcast. \"Alas,\" he cried, \"help me in my need!\nYou know your way here better than I. Take my pig then, and give me\nyour goose.\"\n\n\"I shall be running great risks,\" said the youth, \"but at least I will\nprevent your getting into trouble.\"\n\nHe took the rope in his hand and drove the pig quickly away down a\nby-path, and Hans went on relieved of his sorrow, towards home, with\nthe goose under his arm.\n\n\"What a lucky fellow I am!\" he said to himself. \"First, I shall have a\ngood roast; then there is the quantity of dripping that will fall out,\nwhich will keep me in bread-and-dripping for a quarter of a year; and\nlastly, the splendid white feathers, with which I will have my pillow\nstuffed; then I shall fall asleep without rocking. How glad my mother\nwill be!\"\n\nWhen he was at length come to the village, there stood in the street\na scissors-grinder with his truck. His wheel hummed, and he sang the\nwhile:\n\n \"My wheel I turn, and the scissors I grind,\n And my cloak hangs flowing free in the wind.\"\n\nHans remained standing, and watched him; at length he spoke to him,\nand said:\n\n\"You must be doing well since you are so merry over your grinding.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the scissors-grinder; \"the work has gold at the bottom of\nit. A proper scissors-grinder is the sort of man who, whenever he puts\nhis hand in his pocket, finds money there. But where have you bought\nthat fine goose?\"\n\n\"I did not buy it, but exchanged it for my pig.\"\n\n\"And the pig?\"\n\n\"I obtained him for a cow.\"\n\n\"And the cow?\"\n\n\"I had her for a horse.\"\n\n\"And the horse?\"\n\n\"For him I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.\"\n\n\"And the gold?\"\n\n\"Why, that was my reward for seven years of service.\"\n\n\"You have certainly done well for yourself each time,\" said the\nscissors-grinder. \"If you could only hear money rattling in your\npocket every time you got up, your fortune would be made.\"\n\n\"How shall I set about it?\" said Hans.\n\n\"You must become a grinder, like me. All you want is a grindstone: the\nrest comes of itself. I have one which is a little damaged indeed, but\nfor which I would ask nothing more than your goose; would that suit\nyou?\"\n\n\"How can you ask me?\" answered Hans. \"I shall be the luckiest fellow\non earth. If I have money as often as I feel in my pocket, what else\nshall I have to care about?\" And he handed over the goose, and took\nthe grindstone in receipt.\n\n\"Now,\" said the grinder, lifting up an ordinary heavy field-stone,\nwhich lay beside him. \"There you have a capital stone, which will be\njust the thing to hammer your old nails straight upon. Take it and\nlift it up carefully.\"\n\nHans raised the stone and marched on with a joyful heart, his eyes\nshining with pleasure.\n\n\"I must have been born lucky,\" he cried out. \"All that I desire comes\nto me, as to a Sunday-child.\"\n\nMeanwhile, having been on his legs since daybreak, he began to feel\ntired; besides which, he was tormented by hunger, for he had eaten up\nall his provision in his joy over the exchange of the cow.\n\nAt length he could only proceed with great trouble and must needs stop\nevery minute; the stones, too, crushed him terribly. Then he could\nnot conceal the thought: \"How nice it would be now to have nothing to\ncarry!\"\n\nLike a snail he crept up to a well, wishing to rest himself and enjoy\na refreshing drink.\n\nIn order not to spoil the stones in setting them down, he laid them\ncarefully on the ground one beside the other, and bent himself down to\ndrink, but by an accident he gave them a little push, and both stones\nwent splashing down.\n\nHans, when he saw them sinking in the depths of the well, jumped up\nwith joy, kneeled down and thanked God, with tears in his eyes, that\nHe had shown him this grace and, without troubling him to think what\nto do with them, had relieved him of the heavy stones which would have\nbeen such a hindrance to him.\n\n\"There is no man under the sun,\" he cried out, \"so lucky as I.\"\n\nWith a bright heart and free from all care, he sprang upon his way,\nuntil he was home at his mother's.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nMASTER OF ALL MASTERS\n\n\nA girl once went to the fair to hire herself for a servant. At last\na funny-looking old gentleman engaged her, and took her home to his\nhouse. When she got there, he told her that he had something to teach\nher, for that in his house he had his own names for things.\n\nHe said to her: \"What will you call me?\"\n\n\"Master or mister, or whatever you please, sir,\" says she.\n\nHe said: \"You must call me 'Master of all Masters.' And what would you\ncall this?\" pointing to his bed.\n\n\"Bed or couch, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"No, that's my 'barnacle.' And what do you call these?\" said he,\npointing to his pantaloons.\n\n\"Breeches or trousers, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"You must call them 'squibs and crackers,' And what would you call\nher?\" pointing to the cat.\n\n\"Cat or kit, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"You must call her 'white-faced simminy.' And this, now,\" showing the\nfire, \"what would you call this?\"\n\n\"Fire or flame, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"You must call it 'hot cockalorum.' And what, this?\" he went on,\npointing to the water.\n\n\"Water or wet, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"No, 'pondalorum' is its name. And what do you call all this?\" asked\nhe, as he pointed to the house.\n\n\"House or cottage, or whatever you please, sir.\"\n\n\"You must call it 'high topper mountain.'\"\n\nThat very night the servant woke her master up in a fright and said:\n\"Master of all Masters, get out of your barnacle and put on your\nsquibs and crackers. For white-faced simminy has got a spark of hot\ncockalorum on its tail, and unless you get some pondalorum, high\ntopper mountain will be all on hot cockalorum.\"... That's all.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBELLING THE CAT\n\n\nOnce upon a time the mice sat in council and talked of how they might\noutwit their enemy, the Cat. But good advice was scarce, and in vain\nthe president called upon all the most experienced mice present to\nfind a way.\n\nAt last a very young mouse held up two fingers and asked to be allowed\nto speak, and as soon as he could get permission he said:\n\n\"I've been thinking for a long time why the Cat is such a dangerous\nenemy. Now, it's not so much because of her quickness, though people\nmake so much fuss about that. If we could only _notice_ her in time,\nI've no doubt we're nimble enough to jump into our holes before she\ncould do us any harm. It's in her velvet paws, there's where she hides\nher cruel claws till she gets us in her clutches--that's where her\npower lies. With those paws she can tread so lightly that we can't\nhear her coming. And so, while _we_ are still dancing heedlessly about\nthe place, she creeps close up, and before we know where we are she\npounces down on us and has us in her clutches. Well, then, it's my\nopinion we ought to hang a bell round her neck to warn us of her\ncoming while there's yet time.\"\n\nEvery one applauded this proposal, and the council decided that it\nshould be carried out.\n\nNow the question to be settled was, who should undertake to fasten the\nbell round the Cat's neck?\n\nThe president declared that no one could be better fitted for the task\nthan he who had given such excellent advice.\n\nBut at that the young mouse became quite confused and stammered an\nexcuse. He was too young for the deed, he said. He didn't know the\nCat well enough. His grandfather, who knew her better, would be more\nsuited to the job.\n\nBut the grandfather declared that just because he knew the Cat very\nwell he would take good care not to attempt such a task.\n\nAnd the long and the short of it was that no other mouse would\nundertake the duty; and so this clever proposal was never carried out,\nand the Cat remained mistress of the situation.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD\n\n\nIn a great wide forest, full of beautiful trees, and green glades,\nand thorny thickets, there lived a long time ago a wood-cutter and his\nwife, who had only one child, a little girl. She was so pretty, and so\ngood, that the sun seemed to shine more brightly when its light fell\nupon her rosy little face, and the birds would seem to sing more\nsweetly when she was passing by.\n\nHer real name was Maisie; but the neighbors round about all called her\n\"Little Red Riding-Hood,\" because of a scarlet riding-hood and cloak\nthat her kind old grandmother had made for her, and which she nearly\nalways wore.\n\nShe was a happy, merry little child, with a smile and a gentle word\nfor everybody, and so you may easily believe that everybody loved her,\nand was glad to catch a glimpse of her golden curls and her scarlet\ncloak as she tripped along, singing, under the green boughs.\n\nNow, this, let me tell you before I forget, was at the time when all\nthe birds and beasts, or very nearly all, could speak just as well as\nyou or I; and nobody was surprised to hear them talk, as I suppose one\nwould be nowadays.\n\nWell, as I was saying, Little Red Riding-Hood lived with her parents\nin a little white cottage with a green door and a thatched roof, and\nred and white roses climbing all over the walls, and even putting\ntheir pretty heads in at the latticed windows, to peep at the child\nwho was so like them.\n\nIt was on a bright spring morning early in May, when little Red\nRiding-Hood had just finished putting away the breakfast-cups that her\nmother came bustling in from the dairy.\n\n\"Here's a to-do,\" she said. \"Farmer Hodge has this very minute told\nme that he hears your Grannie isn't quite well, and I can't leave the\ncheese-making this morning for love or money! Do you go, my dear,\nand find out how she is--and--stay--take her this little pot of sweet\nfresh butter, and these two new-laid eggs, and these nice tasty little\npasties. Maybe they'll tempt her to eat a bit. Here's your basket, and\ndon't be too long away, honey.\"\n\nSo little Red Riding-Hood pulled her hood over her curls, and set off\ndown the sunny green slope, with her basket in her hand, at a brisk\npace. But as she got deeper into the forest, she walked more slowly.\nEverything was so beautiful; the great trees waved their huge arms\nover her, the birds were calling to one another from the thorns all\nwhite with blossom, and the child began singing as she went, she could\nnot have told why, but I think it was because the beautiful world made\nher feel glad.\n\nThe path wound along through the trees, and, as it grew wider after\nturning a corner, Red Riding-saw that she was likely to have\ncompany on her walk; for, where two cross-paths divided, there sat a\nbig gray wolf licking his long paws, and looking sharply about him.\nAnd \"Good morning, Red Riding-Hood,\" said he.\n\n\"Good morning, Mr. Wolf,\" she answered.\n\n\"And where may you be going, sweet lass?\" said the Wolf, as he walked\nbeside her.\n\n\"Oh, Grannie isn't very well, and mother cannot leave the\ncheese-making this morning, and so I'm taking her some little dainties\nin my basket, and I am to see how she is, and tell mother when I get\nback,\" said the child with a smile.\n\n\"And,\" said the wolf, \"where does your good Grannie live, little\nlady?\"\n\n\"Through the copse, and down the hollow, and over the bridge, and\nthree meadows after the mill.\"\n\n\"Does she indeed?\" cried he. \"Why, then, I do believe she is a very\ndear old friend of mine, whom I have not seen for years and years.\nNow, I'll tell you what we'll do, you and I: I will go by this way,\nand you shall take that, and whoever gets there first shall be the\nwinner of the game.\"\n\nSo the Wolf trotted off one way, and Red Riding-Hood went the other;\nand I am sorry to say that she lingered and loitered more than she\nought to have done on the road.\n\nWell, what with one thing and another, the sun was right up in the\nvery mid-most middle of the sky when she crossed the last meadow from\nthe mill and came in sight of her grandmother's cottage, and the big\nlilac-bushes that grew by the garden gate.\n\n\"Oh! dear, how I must have lingered!\" said the child, when she saw\nhow high the sun had climbed since she set out on her journey; and,\npattering up the garden-path, she tapped at the cottage door.\n\n\"Who's there?\" said a very gruff kind of voice from inside.\n\n\"It's only I, Grannie dear, your little Red Riding-Hood with some\ngoodies for you in my basket,\" answered the child.\n\n\"Then pull the bobbin,\" cried the voice, \"and the latch will go up.\"\n\n\"What a dreadful cold poor Grannie must have, to be sure, to make her\nso hoarse,\" thought the child. Then she pulled the bobbin, and the\nlatch went up, and Red Riding-Hood pushed open the door, and stepped\ninside the cottage.\n\nIt seemed very dark in there after the bright sunlight outside, and\nall Red Riding-Hood could see was that the window-curtains and the\nbed-curtains were still drawn, and her grandmother seemed to be lying\nin bed with the bed-clothes pulled almost over her head, and her great\nwhite-frilled nightcap nearly hiding her face.\n\nNow, you and I have guessed by this time, although poor Red\nRiding-Hood never even thought of such a thing, that it was not her\nGrannie at all, but the wicked Wolf, who had hurried to the cottage\nand put on Grannie's nightcap and popped into her bed, to pretend that\nhe was Grannie herself.\n\nAnd where was Grannie all this time, you will say? Well, we shall see\npresently.\n\n\"Come and sit down beside my bed, dearie,\" wheezed the Wolf, \"and let\nus have a little chat.\" Then the Wolf stretched out his large hairy\npaws and began to unfasten the basket.\n\n\"Oh!\" said Red Riding-Hood, \"what great arms you have, Grannie!\"\n\n\"All the better to hug you with,\" said the Wolf.\n\n\"And what great rough ears you have, Grannie!\"\n\n\"All the better to hear you with, my little dear.\"\n\n\"And your eyes, Grannie; what great yellow eyes you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to see you with, my pet,\" grinned the Wolf.\n\n\"And oh! oh! Grannie,\" cried the child, in a sad fright, \"what great\nsharp teeth you have!\"\n\n\"All the better to eat you with!\" growled the Wolf, springing up\nsuddenly at Red Riding-Hood. But just at that very moment the door\nflew open, and two tall wood-cutters rushed in with their heavy axes,\nand killed the wicked Wolf in far less time than it takes me to tell\nyou about it.\n\n\"But where is Grannie?\" asked Little Red Riding-Hood, when she had\nthanked the brave wood-cutters. \"Oh! where can poor Grannie be? Can\nthe cruel Wolf have eaten her up?\"\n\nAnd she began to cry and sob bitterly--when, who should walk in but\nGrannie herself, as large as life, and as hearty as ever, with her\nmarketing-basket on her arm! For it was another old dame in the\nvillage who was not very well, and Grannie had been down to visit her\nand give her some of her own famous herb-tea.\n\nSo everything turned out right in the end, and all lived happily\never after; but I promise you that little Red Riding-Hood never made\nfriends with a Wolf again!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE NAIL\n\n\nA tradesman had once transacted a good day's business at a fair,\ndisposed of all his goods, and filled his purse with gold and silver.\nHe prepared afterward to return, in order to reach home by the\nevening, so he strapped his portmanteau, with the money in it, upon\nhis horse's back, and rode off. At noon he halted in a small town, and\nas he was about to set out again, the stable-boy who brought his horse\nsaid to him: \"Sir, a nail is wanting in the shoe on the left hind foot\nof your animal.\"\n\n\"Let it be wanting,\" replied the tradesman; \"I am in a hurry and the\niron will doubtless hold the six hours I have yet to travel.\"\n\nLate in the afternoon he had to dismount again, and feed his horse,\nand at this place also the boy came and told him that a nail was\nwanting in one of the shoes, and asked him whether he should take the\nhorse to a farrier. \"No, no, let it be!\" replied the master; \"it\nwill last out the couple of hours that I have now to travel; I am in\nhaste.\" So saying he rode off; but his horse soon began to limp, and\nfrom limping it came to stumbling, and presently the beast fell\ndown and broke its leg. Thereupon the tradesman had to leave his\nunfortunate horse lying on the road, to unbuckle the portmanteau, and\nto walk home with it upon his shoulder, where he arrived at last late\nat night.\n\n\"And all this misfortune,\" said he to himself, \"is owing to the want\nof a nail. More haste, the less speed!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJACK AND THE BEANSTALK\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a poor widow who had an only son named\nJack. She was very poor, for times had been hard, and Jack was too\nyoung to work. Almost all the furniture of the little cottage had been\nsold to buy bread, until at last there was nothing left worth selling.\nOnly the good cow, Milky White, remained, and she gave milk every\nmorning, which they took to market and sold. But one sad day Milky\nWhite gave no milk, and then things looked bad indeed.\n\n\"Never mind, mother,\" said Jack. \"We must sell Milky White. Trust me\nto make a good bargain,\" and away he went to the market.\n\nFor some time he went along very sadly, but after a little he quite\nrecovered his spirits. \"I may as well ride as walk,\" said he; so\ninstead of leading the cow by the halter, he jumped on her back, and\nso he went whistling along until he met a butcher.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said the butcher.\n\n\"Good morning, sir,\" answered Jack.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" said the butcher.\n\n\"I am going to market to sell the cow.\"\n\n\"It's lucky I met you,\" said the butcher. \"You may save yourself the\ntrouble of going so far.\"\n\nWith this, he put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out five\ncurious-looking beans. \"What do you call these?\" he said.\n\n\"Beans,\" said Jack.\n\n\"Yes,\" said he, \"beans, but they're the most wonderful beans that ever\nwere known. If you plant them overnight, by the next morning they'll\ngrow up and reach the sky. But to save you the trouble of going\nall the way to market, I don't mind exchanging them for that cow of\nyours.\"\n\n\"Done!\" cried Jack, who was so delighted with the bargain that he ran\nall the way home to tell his mother how lucky he had been.\n\nBut oh! how disappointed the poor widow was.\n\n\"Off to bed with you!\" she cried; and she was so angry that she threw\nthe beans out of the window into the garden. So poor Jack went to bed\nwithout any supper, and cried himself to sleep.\n\nWhen he woke up the next morning, the room was almost dark; and Jack\njumped out of bed and ran to the window to see what was the matter.\nThe sun was shining brightly outside, but from the ground right up\nbeside his window there was growing a great beanstalk, which stretched\nup and up as far as he could see, into the sky.\n\n\"I'll just see where it leads to,\" thought Jack, and with that he\nstepped out of the window on to the beanstalk, and began to climb\nupwards. He climbed up and up, till after a time his mother's cottage\nlooked a mere speck below, but at last the stalk ended, and he found\nhimself in a new and beautiful country. A little way off there was a\ngreat castle, with a broad road leading straight up to the front gate.\nBut what most surprised Jack was to find a beautiful maiden suddenly\nstanding beside him.\n\n\"Good morning, ma'am,\" said he, very politely.\n\n\"Good morning, Jack,\" said she; and Jack was more surprised than ever,\nfor he could not imagine how she had learned his name. But he soon\nfound that she knew a great deal more about him than his name; for she\ntold him how, when he was quite a little baby, his father, a gallant\nknight, had been slain by the giant who lived in yonder castle, and\nhow his mother, in order to save Jack, had been obliged to promise\nnever to tell the secret.\n\n\"All that the giant has is yours,\" she said, and then disappeared\nquite as suddenly as she came.\n\n\"She must be a fairy,\" thought Jack.\n\nAs he drew near to the castle, he saw the giant's wife standing at the\ndoor.\n\n\"If you please, ma'am,\" said he, \"would you kindly give me some\nbreakfast? I have had nothing to eat since yesterday.\"\n\nNow, the giant's wife, although very big and very ugly, had a kind\nheart, so she said: \"Very well, little man, come in; but you must be\nquick about it, for if my husband, the giant, finds you here, he will\neat you up, bones and all.\"\n\nSo in Jack went, and the giant's wife gave him a good breakfast, but\nbefore he had half finished it there came a terrible knock at the\nfront door, which seemed to shake even the thick walls of the castle.\n\n\"Dearie me, that is my husband!\" said the giantess, in a terrible\nfright; \"we must hide you somehow,\" and she lifted Jack up and popped\nhim into the empty kettle.\n\nNo sooner had the giant's wife opened the door than her husband roared\nout:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman;\n Be he alive, or be he dead,\n I'll grind his bones to make my bread!\"\n\n\"It's a boy, I'm sure it is,\" he continued. \"Where is he? I'll have him\nfor my breakfast.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" said his wife; \"you must be mistaken. It's the ox's hide\nyou smell.\" So he sat down, and ate up the greater part of the ox.\nWhen he had finished he said: \"Wife, bring me my money-bags.\" So his\nwife brought him two full bags of gold, and the giant began to count\nhis money. But he was so sleepy that his head soon began to nod, and\nthen he began to snore, like the rumbling of thunder. Then Jack crept\nout, snatched up the two bags, and though the giant's dog barked\nloudly, he made his way down the beanstalk back to the cottage before\nthe giant awoke.\n\nJack and his mother were now quite rich; but it occurred to him one\nday that he would like to see how matters were going on at the giant's\ncastle. So while his mother was away at market, he climbed up, and up,\nand up, and up, until he got to the top of the beanstalk again.\n\nThe giantess was standing at the door, just as before, but she did not\nknow Jack, who, of course, was more finely dressed than on his\nfirst visit. \"If you please, ma'am,\" said he, \"will you give me some\nbreakfast?\"\n\n\"Run away,\" said she, \"or my husband the giant will eat you up, bones\nand all. The last boy who came here stole two bags of gold--off with\nyou!\" But the giantess had a kind heart, and after a time she allowed\nJack to come into the kitchen, where she set before him enough\nbreakfast to last him a week. Scarcely had he begun to eat than there\nwas a great rumbling like an earthquake, and the giantess had only\ntime to bundle Jack into the oven when in came the giant. No sooner\nwas he inside the room than he roared:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman;\n Be he alive, or be he dead,\n I'll grind his bones to make my bread!\"\n\nBut his wife told him he was mistaken, and after breakfasting off\na roasted bullock, just as if it were a lark, he called out: \"Wife,\nbring the little brown hen!\" The giantess went out and brought in a\nlittle brown hen, which she placed on the table.\n\n\"Lay!\" said the giant; and the hen at once laid a golden egg. \"Lay!\"\nsaid the giant a second time; and she laid another golden egg. \"Lay!\"\nsaid the giant a third time; and she laid a third golden egg.\n\n\"That will do for to-day,\" said he, and stretched himself out to go to\nsleep. As soon as he began to snore, Jack crept out of the oven, went\non tiptoe to the table, and, snatching up the little brown hen, made\na dash for the door. Then the hen began to cackle, and the giant began\nto wake up; but before he was quite awake, Jack had escaped from the\ncastle, and, climbing as fast as he could down the beanstalk, got safe\nhome to his mother's cottage.\n\nThe little brown hen laid so many golden eggs that Jack and his mother\nhad now more money than they could spend. But Jack was always thinking\nabout the beanstalk; and one day he crept out of the window again, and\nclimbed up, and up, and up, and up, until he reached the top.\n\nThis time, you may be sure, he was careful not to be seen; so he crept\nround to the back of the castle, and when the giant's wife went out\nhe slipped into the kitchen and hid himself in the oven. In came the\ngiant, roaring louder than ever:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman;\n Be he alive; or be he dead,\n I'll grind his bones to make my bread!\"\n\nBut the giantess was quite sure that she had seen no little boys\nthat morning; and after grumbling a great deal, the giant sat down\nto breakfast. Even then he was not quite satisfied, for every now and\nagain he would say:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman;\"\n\nand once he got up and looked in the kettle. But, of course, Jack was\nin the oven all the time!\n\nWhen the giant had finished, he called out: \"Wife, bring me the golden\nharp!\" So she brought in the golden harp, and placed it on the table.\n\"Sing!\" said the giant; and the harp at once began to sing the most\nbeautiful songs that ever were heard. It sang so sweetly that the\ngiant soon fell fast asleep; and then Jack crept quietly out of the\noven, and going on tiptoe to the table, seized hold of the golden\nharp. But the harp at once called out: \"Master! master!\" and the\ngiant woke up just in time to catch sight of Jack running out of the\nkitchen-door.\n\nWith a fearful roar, he seized his oak-tree club, and dashed after\nJack, who held the harp tight, and ran faster than he had ever run\nbefore. The giant, brandishing his club, and taking terribly long\nstrides, gained on Jack at every instant, and he would have been\ncaught if the giant hadn't slipped over a boulder. Before he could\npick himself up, Jack began to climb down the beanstalk, and when the\ngiant arrived at the edge he was nearly half-way to the cottage. The\ngiant began to climb down too; but as soon as Jack saw him coming, he\ncalled out: \"Mother, bring me an axe!\" and the widow hurried out\nwith a chopper. Jack had no sooner reached the ground than he cut the\nbeanstalk right in two. Down came the giant with a terrible crash, and\nthat, you may be sure, was the end of him. What became of the giantess\nand the castle nobody knows. But Jack and his mother grew very rich,\nand lived happy ever after.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHOW TO TELL A TRUE PRINCESS\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a Prince who wanted to marry a Princess,\nbut she must be a true Princess. So he traveled through the whole\nworld to find one, but there was always something against each. There\nwere plenty of Princesses, but he could not find out if they were true\nPrincesses. In every case there was some little defect, which showed\nthe genuine article was not yet found. So he came home again in very\nlow spirits, for he had wanted very much to have a true Princess. One\nnight there was a dreadful storm; it thundered and lightened and the\nrain streamed down in torrents. It was fearful! There was a knocking\nheard at the palace gate, and the old King went to open it.\n\nThere stood a Princess outside the gate; but oh, in what a sad plight\nshe was from the rain and the storm! The water was running down from\nher hair and her dress into the points of her shoes and out at the\nheels again. And yet she said she was a true Princess!\n\n\"Well, we shall soon find out!\" thought the old Queen. But she said\nnothing and went into the sleeping-room, took off all the bedclothes,\nand laid a pea on the bottom of the bed. Then she put twenty\nmattresses on top of the pea and twenty eider-down quilts on the top\nof the mattresses. And this was the bed in which the princess was to\nsleep.\n\nThe next morning she was asked how she had slept.\n\n\"Oh, very badly!\" said the Princess. \"I scarcely closed my eyes all\nnight! I am sure I don't know what was in the bed. I lay on something\nso hard that my whole body is black and blue. It is dreadful!\"\n\nNow they perceived that she was a true Princess, because she had\nfelt the pea through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down\nquilts.\n\nNo one but a true Princess could be so sensitive.\n\nSo the Prince married her, for now he knew that at last he had got\nhold of a true Princess. And the pea was put into the Royal Museum,\nwhere it is still to be seen if no one has stolen it. Now, this is a\ntrue story.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLEEPING BEAUTY\n\n\nOnce upon a time long ago--so long, indeed, that even the very oldest\npeople now alive could not remember it--there lived a King and Queen\nin a beautiful palace, a great white marble palace, with wide halls\nand high towers, and a golden roof that flashed in the sun.\n\nAnd all round the palace, for miles and miles, there were lovely\ngardens and pleasure-grounds, with terraces and green lawns, and\nancient trees where the birds would sit and sing all day and all night\nlong, and more flowers than you could ever think of if you were\nto think a whole summer through. There were peacocks and birds of\nparadise on the broad lawns, and pretty slender brown deer in the\nshady glades, and gold and silver fishes in the ponds and fountains,\nand great red and yellow fruits ripened in the orchards.\n\nThere was everything there that heart could wish--except just one,\nand that was the one thing in all the world that this King and Queen\nwanted to make them perfectly happy. For there was no little child to\nrun and play about the sunny gardens and pick the flowers, and pet the\nbirds and beasts that wandered there. And this would often make them\nvery sad.\n\nBut at last, after many years, they had their wish, and a little\nbaby daughter was born to them--a tiny child with a face like a blush\nrosebud, eyes like violets, and a little red mouth like the pimpernel\nflowers that grow in the cornfields and by the wayside in summer-time.\n\nNow, you can easily think how glad this King and Queen were, and what\ngreat rejoicings were made over all the country.\n\nBonfires as big as haystacks were kept burning all night, fat oxen\nwere roasted whole in the market-place of every town, the church-bells\nwere rung and rung again until the ringers were out of breath and\ntheir arms were aching, and every little child in the kingdom was\ngiven a beautiful present for the baby Princess's sake.\n\nIn the palace, of course, all was bustle and hurry to make ready for\nthe christening-feast; the maids were busy putting flowers all\nabout the halls and chambers, and sprinkling the shining floors with\nsweet-smelling leaves and petals.\n\nFor the most important guests invited to this christening were seven\nvery powerful fairies, and you know, I am sure, how particular fairies\nare about what they eat and drink. Not that they are greedy; but they\nare used to such delicate food that even the very best of ours seems\nstrange to them. So the Queen was very anxious that they should\nbe pleased; for they had been asked to be godmothers to the baby\nPrincess, and she wanted them to be in a good humor so that they\nshould be kind to her little one.\n\nIt was a beautiful summer afternoon, and the roses on the palace\nterrace were nodding their heads sleepily in the warm breeze, when the\nfairies' chariots came into sight, sailing through the blue sky like a\nflight of bright-winged butterflies.\n\nThey were all good fairies, and had known the King and Queen all their\nlives long, and as they had not seen them for some time there was\na great deal to talk about and much news to tell. And, dear me! how\npleased they were with the baby! They all agreed that she was the\nprettiest little darling they had ever seen--almost as pretty as a\nreal fairy baby--and _that_ was a compliment indeed, I can tell you.\n\nAnd when they went in to the great banqueting-hall and sat down to\ntable, they were even more delighted than at first. For each one of\nthem there was a set of six golden dinner things--knife, spoon, fork,\ncup, dish, and plate--made on purpose as a present for each, and all\ndifferent. One was set with pearls, another with diamonds, the third\nwith rubies, the fourth with opals, the fifth with amethysts, the\nsixth with emeralds, the seventh with sapphires; and nobody could tell\nwhich was the most beautiful.\n\nThey were just going to begin, and everybody was as happy as happy\ncould be, when, all of a sudden, there was a clashing of brazen claws\nand a rushing of wings, and something like a black cloud seemed to\npass before the tall windows and darken all the room, so that the\nguests could hardly see their plates. Then the great doors burst open\nwith a terrible bang, and an old fairy in a long trailing black gown,\nwith her face almost hidden in a black hood, jumped out of a black\nchariot drawn by fierce griffins, and stalked up to the table.\n\nThe King turned pale, and the Queen nearly fainted away, for this\nwas the spiteful fairy Tormentilla, who lived all alone, an immense\ndistance away from everywhere and everyone, in a dismal black stone\ncastle in the middle of a desert. The poor Queen had been so happy and\nso busy that she had forgotten all about her, and never sent her an\ninvitation.\n\nHowever, they all tried to make the best of it, and another chair was\nbrought, and another place laid for Tormentilla; and both the King and\nQueen told her over and over again how very, very sorry they were not\nto have asked her.\n\nIt was all in vain. Nothing could please her; she would eat and\ndrink nothing, and she sat, scowling and looking angrily at the other\nfairies' jeweled cups and dishes, until the feast was over, and it was\ntime to give the presents.\n\nThen they all went into the great tapestried room where the tiny\nPrincess lay sleeping in her mother-o'-pearl cradle, and the seven\nfairies began to say what they would each give her.\n\nThe first stepped forward and said: \"She shall always be as good as\ngold\"; the second: \"She shall be the cleverest Princess in the world\";\nthe third: \"She shall be the most beautiful\"; the fourth: \"She shall\nbe the happiest\"; the fifth: \"She shall have the sweetest voice that\nwas ever heard\"; the sixth: \"Everyone shall love her.\" And then the\nwicked old cross fairy strode over to the cradle with long quick\nsteps, and said, shaking her black crooked stick at the King and\nQueen: \"_And I say that she shall prick her hand with a spindle and\ndie of the wound_!\"\n\nAt this the Queen fell on her knees and begged and prayed Tormentilla\nto call back her cruel words; but suddenly the seventh fairy, the\nyoungest of all, who knew Tormentilla well, and had hidden herself\nbehind the curtains for fear that some such thing might happen, came\nout and said:\n\n\"Do not cry so, dear Queen; I cannot quite undo my cousin's wicked\nenchantment, but I can promise you that your daughter shall not die,\nbut only fall asleep for a hundred years. And, when these are past and\ngone, a Prince shall come and awaken her with a kiss.\"\n\nSo the King and Queen dried their tears and thanked the kind fairy\nHeartsease for her goodness; and all the fairies went back to their\nhomes, and things went on much as usual in the palace. But you can\nimagine how careful the Queen was of her little girl; and the King\nmade a law that every spindle in the country must be destroyed, and\nthat no more should be made, and that anyone who had a spindle should\nbe heavily punished if not executed at once.\n\nWell, the years went by happily enough until the Princess Miranda was\nalmost eighteen years old, and all that the six fairies had promised\ncame true, for she was the best and the prettiest and the cleverest\nPrincess in all the world, and everybody loved her. And, indeed, by\nthis time Tormentilla's spiteful words were almost forgotten.\n\n\"Poor old thing,\" the Queen would sometimes say, \"she was so angry\nat having been left out that she did not know what she was saying. Of\ncourse, she did not really mean it.\"\n\nNow, the King and Queen had to go away for a few days to a great\nentertainment that one of their richest nobles was giving at his\ncountry house; and, as the Princess did not wish to go, they left her\nbehind with her ladies-in-waiting in the beautiful old palace. For\nthe first two days she amused herself very well, but on the third she\nmissed her father and mother so much that, to pass the time till\nthey came back, she began exploring all the old lumber-rooms and\nout-of-the-way attics in the palace, and laughing at the dusty\nfurniture and queer curiosities she found there.\n\nAt last she found herself at the top of a narrow winding stairway in\na tall turret that seemed even older than all the rest of the palace.\nAnd when she lifted the latch of the door in front of her she saw\na little low chamber with curiously painted walls, and there sat a\nlittle old, old woman in a high white cap, spinning at a wheel.\n\nFor some time she stood at the door, watching the old woman curiously;\nshe could not imagine what she was doing, for the Princess had never\nseen a spinning-wheel in her life before, because, as I told you, the\nKing had ordered them all to be destroyed.\n\nNow, it happened that the poor old woman who lived in this tower\nhad never heard the King's command, for she was so deaf that if\nyou shouted until you were hoarse she would never have been able to\nunderstand you.\n\n\"What pretty work you are doing there, Goody? And why does that wheel\ngo whirr, whirr, whirr?\" said the Princess. The old woman neither\nanswered nor looked up, for, of course, she did not hear.\n\nSo the Princess stepped into the room and laid her hand upon the old\nwoman's shoulder.\n\nGoody started then, looked up, and rubbed her eyes.\n\n\"Deary, deary me!\" cried she, in a high, cracked voice. \"And who may\nyou be, my pretty darling?\"\n\n\"I'm the Princess Miranda,\" screamed the maiden in her ear, but the\nold woman only shook her head--she could hear nothing.\n\nThen the Princess pointed to the spindle, and made the old woman\nunderstand that she wanted to try if she could work it.\n\nSo Goody nodded, and laughed, and got up from her seat, and the\nPrincess sat down and took the spindle in her hand. But no sooner did\nshe touch it than she pricked the palm of her hand with the point, and\nsank down in a swoon.\n\nImmediately a deep silence fell on all around. The little bird that\nonly a moment before had been singing so sweetly upon the window-sill\nhushed his song. The distant hum of voices from the courtyard beneath\nceased; even Goody stopped short in the directions she was giving\nthe Princess, and neither moved hand nor foot towards the poor little\nmaid, and all because she had fallen fast asleep as she stood.\n\nBelow in the castle it was just the same. The King and Queen, who had\nthat moment returned from their journey and were enquiring for their\ndaughter, fell asleep before the lady-in-waiting could answer them,\nand as to the lady herself she had begun to snore--in a ladylike\nmanner, of course--before you could have winked your eye.\n\nThe soldiers and men-at-arms slumbered as they stood. The page-boy\nfell asleep with his mouth wide open, and a fly that had just been\ngoing to settle on his nose fell asleep too in mid-air.\n\nAlthough the sun had been shining brightly when the Princess took the\nspindle in her hand, no sooner did she prick herself with the point\nthan deep shadows darkened the sunny rooms and gardens.\n\nIt was just as though night had overtaken them, but there was no one\nin or near the palace to heed whether it were dark or light.\n\nThis sudden darkness had been caused by a magic wood which had sprung\nup all around the palace and its grounds. It was at least half a mile\nthick, and was composed of thorns and prickly plants, through which\nit seemed impossible for anyone to penetrate. It was so thick and high\nthat it hid even the topmost towers of the enchanted castle, and no\none outside could have dreamed that such a castle lay behind it.\n\nWell, and so the years went on, and on, and on, until a hundred years\nhad passed, and the palace and the story of it were all but forgotten.\nAnd it happened that a King's son from a neighboring country came\nhunting that way with his men, and horses, and dogs. And in the\nexcitement of the chase he rode on and on until he became separated\nfrom his servants and attendants, and found himself in a part of the\ncountry where he had never been before. In vain he tried to retrace\nhis steps; he only seemed to wander farther away in the wrong\ndirection.\n\nPresently he came to a woodcutter's cottage, and dismounted to ask his\nway. An old, old man lived in this hut, and after he had directed the\nPrince as to the best way back, the young man pointed to a thick wood\nahead, and asked what lay beyond it. Then the old man told him that\nthere was a legend that beyond the wood was an enchanted palace where\na beautiful Princess had lain sleeping for a hundred years, and whom a\nPrince was to awaken with a kiss.\n\nDirectly the Prince Florimond heard this, nothing would serve but he\nmust go there and see for himself if the tale were true. So he rode\nand he rode until he came to the edge of the wood, and there he got\noff his horse and began to push his way through the thorny thicket. It\nwas hard work indeed, for the briars were so strong and so sharp that\nyou would never believe that anyone could get past them, and they\nclosed up behind him as he went.\n\nBut he was strong and brave, and after a time the way became easier,\nuntil at last he came to the palace.\n\nThere everyone was sleeping--the sentinels and soldiers in the\ncourt-yard, the cooks in the kitchen, and pages and lords and\nladies-in-waiting in the corridors and chambers; and, in the great\nthrone-room the King and Queen on their golden and ivory thrones.\n\nPrince Florimond passed on, wondering more and more, till he came at\nlength to the narrow staircase which led to the little tower in which\nthe Princess had fallen asleep. He mounted this, and then came the\ngreatest wonder of all--the beautiful sleeping lady, in her glistening\nwhite robes. She was so beautiful that to see her almost took away his\nbreath; and, falling on his knees, he bent to kiss her cheek. And as\nhe kissed her, she opened her lovely blue eyes and said, smiling: \"Oh!\nPrince, have you come at last? I have had such pleasant dreams.\"\n\nThen she sat up laughing and rubbing her eyes, and gave him her hand,\nand they went hand in hand together down the stairs and along the\ncorridors, till they came to the throne-room. And there were the King\nand Queen rubbing their eyes too, and they kissed their daughter and\nwelcomed the Prince most gladly.\n\nAnd, all at the same time, the whole palace was awake. Cocks crowed,\ndogs barked, the cats began to mew, the spits to turn, the clocks to\nstrike, the soldiers presented arms, the heralds blew their trumpets,\nthe head cook boxed a little scullion's ears, the butler went on\ndrinking his half-finished tankard of wine, the first lady-in-waiting\nfinished winding her skein of silk.\n\nEverything, in short, went on exactly as though the spell had lasted\na hundred seconds instead of years. To be sure, Princess Miranda's\npretty white dress was just such a one as Prince Florimond's\ngreat-grandmother might have worn. But that gave them something to\nlaugh at.\n\nAnd now my story is done, for I need hardly tell you that the Prince\nand Princess were married amid great rejoicings, and lived happily\never after; and that the seven fairy godmothers danced at the wedding.\nSo all ended well, and what more could anyone wish?\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nOLD-FASHIONED POEMS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN IN THE MOON\n\n\n Said the Raggedy Man on a hot afternoon,\n \"My!\n Sakes!\n What a lot o' mistakes\n Some little folks makes on the Man in the Moon!\n But people that's been up to see him like Me,\n And calls on him frequent and intimutly,\n Might drop a few hints that would interest you\n Clean!\n Through!\n If you wanted 'em to--\n Some actual facts that might interest you!\n\n \"O the Man in the Moon has a crick in his back;\n Whee!\n Whimm!\n Ain't you sorry for him?\n And a mole on his nose that is purple and black;\n And his eyes are so weak that they water and run\n If he dares to _dream_ even he looks at the sun,--\n So he jes' dreams of stars, as the doctors advise--\n My!\n Eyes!\n But isn't he wise--\n To jes' dream of stars, as the doctors advise?\n\n \"And the Man in the Moon has a boil on his ear--\n Whee!\n Whing!\n What a singular thing!\n I know! but these facts are authentic, my dear,--\n There's a boil on his ear; and a corn on his chin,--\n He calls it a dimple--but dimples stick in--\n Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you know!\n Whang!\n Ho!\n Why certainly so!--\n It might be a dimple turned over, you know:\n\n \"And the Man in the Moon has a rheumatic knee,\n Gee!\n Whizz!\n What a pity that is!\n And his toes have worked round where his heels ought to be.\n So whenever he wants to go North he goes South,\n And comes back with the porridge crumbs all round his mouth,\n And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan,\n Whing!\n Whann!\n What a marvelous man!\n What a very remarkably marvelous man!\n\n \"And the Man in the Moon,\" sighed the Raggedy Man,\n \"Gits!\n So!\n Sullonesome, you know!\n Up there by himself since creation began!--\n That when I call on him and then come away,\n He grabs me and holds me and begs me to stay,--\n Till--well, if it wasn't for _Jimmy-cum-Jim_,\n Dadd!\n Limb!\n I'd go pardners with him!\n Jes' jump my bob here and be pardners with him!\"\n\nJAMES WHITCOMB RILEY\n\n(_From \"The Raggedy Man,\" copyright 1907. Used by special permission\nof the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company._)\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSAGE COUNSEL\n\n The lion is the beast to fight,\n He leaps along the plain,\n And if you run with all your might,\n He runs with all his mane.\n I'm glad I'm not a Hottentot,\n But if I were, with outward cal-lum\n I'd either faint upon the spot\n Or hie me up a leafy pal-lum.\n\n The chamois is the beast to hunt;\n He's fleeter than the wind,\n And when the chamois is in front,\n The hunter is behind.\n The Tyrolese make famous cheese\n And hunt the chamois o'er the chaz-zums:\n I'd choose the former if you please,\n For precipices give me spaz-zums.\n\n The polar bear will make a rug\n Almost as white as snow;\n But if he gets you in his hug,\n He rarely lets you go.\n And Polar ice looks very nice,\n With all the colors of a pris-sum;\n But, if you'll follow my advice,\n Stay home and learn your catechis-sum.\n\nARTHUR THOMAS QUILLER-COUCH\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLIMERICKS\n\n\n\n There was an Old Man in a tree,\n Who was horribly bored by a Bee;\n When they said, \"Does it buzz?\" he replied,\n \"Yes, it does!\n It's a regular brute of a Bee.\"\n\n There was an Old Man on some rocks,\n Who shut his Wife up in a box:\n When she said, \"Let me out,\" he exclaimed,\n \"Without doubt\n You will pass all your life in that box.\"\n\n There was an Old Man who said \"How\n Shall I flee from this horrible Cow?\n I will sit on this stile, and continue to smile,\n Which may soften the heart of that Cow.\"\n\n There was an Old Man who said, \"Hush!\n I perceive a young bird in this bush!\"\n When they said, \"Is it small?\" he replied, \"Not at all;\n It is four times as big as the bush!\"\n\n There was once an Old Man with a beard,\n Who said, \"It is just as I feared!--\n Two Owls and a Hen,\n Four Larks and a Wren\n Have all built their nests in my beard.\"\n\n There was an old person of Ware\n Who rode on the back of a bear;\n When they said, \"Does it trot?\"\n He said, \"Certainly not,\n It's a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear.\"\n\n There was a young lady in blue,\n Who said, \"Is it you? Is it you?\"\n When they said, \"Yes, it is,\" she replied only,\n \"Whizz!\"\n That ungracious young lady in blue.\n\nEDWARD LEAR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nMORE LIMERICKS\n\n\n There was a small boy of Quebec,\n Who was buried in snow to his neck;\n When they said. \"Are you friz?\"\n He replied, \"Yes, I is--\n But we don't call this cold in Quebec.\"\n\nRUDYARD KIPLING\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n There was a young lady of Niger\n Who smiled as she rode on a Tiger;\n They came back from the ride\n With the lady inside,\n And the smile on the face of the Tiger.\n\n There was a young maid who said, \"Why\n Can't I look in my ear with my eye?\n If I give my mind to it,\n I'm sure I can do it--\n You never can tell till you try.\"\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEAD DOLL\n\n\n You needn't be trying to comfort me--I tell you my dolly is dead!\n There's no use in saying she isn't, with a crack like that in her head.\n It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt much to have my tooth out,\n that day;\n And then, when the man 'most pulled my head off, you hadn't a word\n to say.\n\n And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you say you can mend it\n with glue:\n As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just suppose it was you?\n You might make her look all mended--but what do I care for looks?\n Why, glue's for chairs and tables, and toys and the backs of books!\n\n My dolly! my own little daughter! Oh, but it's the awfullest crack!\n It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her poor head went whack\n Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the little shelf.\n Now, Nursey, what makes you remind me? I know that I did it myself!\n\n I think you must be crazy--you'll get her another head!\n What good would forty heads do her? I tell you my dolly is dead!\n And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant new spring hat!\n And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie on that horrid cat!\n\n When my mamma gave me that ribbon--I was playing out in the yard--\n She said to me, most expressly, \"Here's a ribbon for Hildegarde.\"\n And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde saw me do it;\n But I said to myself, \"Oh, never mind, I don't believe she knew it!\"\n\n But I know that she knew it now, and I just believe, I do,\n That her poor little heart was broken, and so her head broke too.\n Oh, my baby! my little baby! I wish my head had been hit!\n For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked a bit.\n\n But since the darling is dead, she'll want to be buried, of course:\n We will take my little wagon, Nurse, and you shall be the horse;\n And I'll walk behind and cry, and we'll put her in this, you see--\n This dear little box--and we'll bury her there out under the maple-tree.\n\n And papa will make me a tombstone, like the one he made for my bird;\n And he'll put what I tell him on it--yes, every single word!\n I shall say: \"Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, who is dead;\n She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in her head.\"\n\nMARGARET VANDERGRIFT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE THINGS\n\n\n Little drops of water\n Little grains of sand,\n Make the mighty ocean,\n And the pleasant land.\n\n Thus the little moments,\n Humble though they be,\n Make the mighty ages\n Of eternity.\n\n Thus our little errors\n Lead the soul away\n From the path of virtue,\n Off in sin to stray.\n\n Little deeds of kindness,\n Little words of love,\n Make our earth an Eden,\n Like the heaven above.\n\nAscribed to JULIA A. F. CARNEY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN RULE\n\n\n To do to others as I would\n That they should do to me,\n Will make me gentle, kind, and good,\n As children ought to be.\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nDO THE BEST YOU CAN\n\n\n If I was a cobbler it should be my pride\n The best of all cobblers to be;\n If I was a tinker, no tinker beside\n Should mend an old kettle like me.\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE VOICE OF SPRING\n\n\n I am coming, I am coming!\n Hark! the little bee is humming;\n See, the lark is soaring high\n In the blue and sunny sky;\n And the gnats are on the wing,\n Wheeling round in airy ring.\n\n See, the yellow catkins cover\n All the slender willows over!\n And on the banks of mossy green\n Star-like primroses are seen;\n And, their clustering leaves below,\n White and purple violets grow.\n\n Hark! the new-born lambs are bleating\n And the cawing rooks are meeting\n In the elms,--a noisy crowd;\n All the birds are singing loud;\n And the first white butterfly\n In the sunshine dances by.\n\n Look around thee, look around!\n Flowers in all the fields abound;\n Every running stream is bright;\n All the orchard trees are white;\n And each small and waving shoot\n Promises sweet flowers and fruit.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LARK AND THE ROOK\n\n\n \"Good night, Sir Rook!\" said a little lark.\n \"The daylight fades; it will soon be dark;\n I've bathed my wings in the sun's last ray;\n I've sung my hymn to the parting day;\n So now I haste to my quiet nook\n In yon dewy meadow--good night, Sir Rook!\"\n\n \"Good night, poor Lark,\" said his titled friend\n With a haughty toss and a distant bend;\n \"I also go to my rest profound,\n But not to sleep on the cold, damp ground.\n The fittest place for a bird like me\n Is the topmost bough of yon tall pine-tree.\n\n \"I opened my eyes at peep of day\n And saw you taking your upward way,\n Dreaming your fond romantic dreams,\n An ugly speck in the sun's bright beams;\n Soaring too high to be seen or heard;\n And I said to myself: 'What a foolish bird!'\n\n \"I trod the park with a princely air,\n I filled my crop with the richest fare;\n I cawed all day 'mid a lordly crew,\n And I made more noise in the world than you!\n The sun shone forth on my ebon wing;\n I looked and wondered--good night, poor thing!\"\n\n \"Good night, once more,\" said the lark's sweet voice.\n \"I see no cause to repent my choice;\n You build your nest in the lofty pine,\n But is your slumber more sweet than mine?\n You make more noise in the world than I,\n But whose is the sweeter minstrelsy?\"\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHANKSGIVING DAY\n\n\n Over the river and through the wood,\n To grandfather's house we go;\n The horse knows the way\n To carry the sleigh\n Through the white and drifted snow.\n\n Over the river and through the wood--\n Oh, how the wind does blow!\n It stings the toes\n And bites the nose,\n As over the ground we go.\n\n Over the river and through the wood,\n To have a first-rate play.\n Hear the bells ring,\n \"Ting-a-ling-ding!\"\n Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!\n\n Over the river and through the wood\n Trot fast, my dapple-gray!\n Spring over the ground,\n Like a hunting-hound!\n For this is Thanksgiving Day.\n\n Over the river and through the wood,\n And straight through the barn-yard gate\n We seem to go\n Extremely slow,--\n It is so hard to wait!\n\n Over the river and through the wood--\n Now grandmother's cap I spy!\n Hurrah for the fun!\n Is the pudding done?\n Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie?\n\nLYDIA MARIA CHILD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAGPIE'S NEST\n\n\nA FABLE\n\n\n When the Arts in their infancy were,\n In a fable of old 'tis express'd\n A wise magpie constructed that rare\n Little house for young birds, call'd a nest.\n\n This was talk'd of the whole country round;\n You might hear it on every bough sung,\n \"Now no longer upon the rough ground\n Will fond mothers brood over their young:\"\n\n \"For the magpie with exquisite skill\n Has invented a moss-cover'd cell\n Within which a whole family will\n In the utmost security dwell.\"\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRIES OF THE CALDON LOW\n\n\nA MIDSUMMER LEGEND\n\n\n \"And where have you been, my Mary,\n And where have you been from me?\"\n \"I've been to the top of the Caldon Low,\n The midsummer-night to see.\"\n\n \"And what did you see, my Mary,\n All up on the Caldon Low?\"\n \"I saw the glad sunshine come down,\n And I saw the merry winds blow.\"\n\n \"And what did you hear, my Mary,\n All up on the Caldon hill?\"\n \"I heard the drops of the water made.\n And the ears of the green corn fill.\"\n\n \"Oh! tell me all, my Mary--\n All, all that ever you know;\n For you must have seen the fairies,\n Last night on the Caldon Low.\"\n\n \"Then take me on your knee, mother;\n And listen, mother of mine:\n A hundred fairies danced last night,\n And the harpers they were nine;\"\n\n \"And their harp-strings rung so merrily\n To their dancing feet so small;\n But oh! the words of their talking\n Were merrier far than all.\"\n\n \"And what were the words, my Mary,\n That then you heard them say?\"\n \"I'll tell you all, my mother;\n But let me have my way.\n\n \"Some of them played with the water,\n And rolled it down the hill;\n 'And this,' they said, 'shall speedily turn\n The poor old miller's mill;\n\n \"'For there has been no water\n Ever since the first of May;\n And a busy man will the miller be\n At dawning of the day.\n\n \"'Oh! the miller, how he will laugh\n When he sees the mill-dam rise!\n The jolly old miller, how he will laugh\n Till the tears fill both his eyes!'\n\n \"And some they seized the little winds\n That sounded over the hill;\n And each put a horn unto his mouth,\n And blew both loud and shrill;\n\n \"'And there,' they said, 'the merry winds go\n Away from every horn;\n And they shall clear the mildew dank\n From the blind old widow's corn.\n\n \"'Oh! the poor, blind widow,\n Though she has been blind so long,\n She'll be blithe enough when the mildew's gone,\n And the corn stands tall and strong.'\n\n \"And some they brought the brown lint-seed,\n And flung it down from the Low;\n 'And this,' they said, 'by sunrise,\n In the weaver's croft shall grow.\n\n \"'Oh! the poor, lame weaver,\n How will he laugh outright\n When he sees his dwindling flax-field\n All full of flowers by night!'\n\n \"And then outspoke a brownie,\n With a long beard on his chin;\n 'I have spun up all the tow,' said he,\n 'And I want some more to spin.\n\n \"'I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,\n And I want to spin another;\n A little sheet for Mary's bed,\n And an apron for her mother.\n\n \"With that I could not help but laugh,\n And I laughed out loud and free;\n And then on the top of the Caldon Low\n There was no one left but me.\n\n \"And on the top of the Caldon Low\n The mists were cold and gray,\n And nothing I saw but the mossy stones\n That round about me lay.\n\n \"But, coming down from the hill-top,\n I heard afar below,\n How busy the jolly miller was,\n And how the wheel did go.\n\n \"And I peeped into the widow's field,\n And, sure enough, were seen\n The yellow ears of the mildewed corn,\n All standing stout and green.\n\n \"And down by the weaver's croft I stole,\n To see if the flax were sprung;\n And I met the weaver at his gate,\n With the good news on his tongue.\n\n \"Now this is all I heard, mother,\n And all that I did see;\n So, pr'ythee, make my bed, mother,\n For I'm tired as I can be.\"\n\nMARY HOWITT\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS\n\n\n At evening when the lamp is lit,\n Around the fire my parents sit;\n They sit at home and talk and sing.\n And do not play at anything.\n\n Now, with my little gun, I crawl\n All in the dark along the wall,\n And follow round the forest track\n Away behind the sofa back.\n\n There, in the night, where none can spy,\n All in my hunter's camp I lie,\n And play at books that I have read\n Till it is time to go to bed.\n\n These are the hills, these are the woods,\n These are my starry solitudes;\n And there the river by whose brink\n The roaring lions come to drink.\n\n I see the others far away\n As if in firelit camp they lay,\n And I, like to an Indian scout,\n Around their party prowled about.\n\n So, when my nurse comes in for me,\n Home I return across the sea,\n And go to bed with backward looks\n At my dear land of Story-books.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS\n\n\n 'T was the night before Christmas, when all through the house\n Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;\n The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,\n In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;\n The children were nestled all snug in their beds,\n While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;\n And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,\n Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,--\n When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,\n I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.\n Away to the window I flew like a flash,\n Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.\n The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow\n Gave a lustre of midday to objects below;\n When what to my wondering eyes should appear,\n But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,\n With a little old driver, so lively and quick\n I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.\n More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,\n And he whistled and shouted, and called them by name;\n \"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!\n On, Comet! on, Cupid, on, Donder and Blitzen!\n To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!\n Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!\"\n As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,\n When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,\n So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,\n With the sleigh full of toys,--and St. Nicholas too.\n And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof\n The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.\n As I drew in my head, and was turning around,\n Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.\n He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,\n And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;\n A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,\n And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.\n His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!\n His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;\n His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,\n And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.\n The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,\n And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.\n He had a broad face and a little round belly\n That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.\n He was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf;\n And I laughed, when I saw him, in spite of myself.\n A wink of his eye and a twist of his head\n Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.\n He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,\n And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,\n And laying his finger aside of his nose,\n And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.\n He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,\n And away they all flew like the down of a thistle;\n But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,\n \"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!\"\n\nCLEMENT CLARKE MOORE\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE\n\n\n Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,\n An' wash the cups and saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,\n An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,\n An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;\n An' all us other children, when the supper things is done,\n We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun\n A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about.\n An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you\n Ef you\n Don't\n Watch\n Out!\n\n Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--\n So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,\n His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,\n An' when they turn't the kivers down, he wasn't there at all!\n An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubbyhole, an press,\n An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess;\n But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout!\n An' the Gobble-uns git you\n Ef you\n Don't\n Watch\n Out!\n\n An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,\n An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood an' kin;\n An' onc't when they was \"company,\" an' ole folks was there,\n She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!\n An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,\n They was two great big black Things a-standin' by her side,\n An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!\n An' the Gobble-uns'll git you\n Ef you\n Don't\n Watch\n Out!\n\n An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,\n An' the lampwick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!\n An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,\n An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--\n You better mind yer parents, and yer teachers fond and dear,\n An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,\n An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,\n Er the Gobble-uns'll git you\n Ef you\n Don't\n Watch\n Out!\n\nJAMES WHITCOMB RILEY\n\n\n(_From \"Riley Child Rhymes,\" copyright, 1899. Used by special permission\nof the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company._)\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHATTERBOX\n\n\n From morning to night 't was Lucy's delight\n To chatter and talk without stopping;\n There was not a day but she rattled away,\n Like water forever a-dropping!\n\n As soon as she rose, while she put on her clothes,\n 'Twas vain to endeavor to still her;\n Nor once did she lack to continue her clack,\n Till again she lay down on her pillow.\n\n You'll think now, perhaps, there would have been gaps,\n If she hadn't been wonderful clever;\n That her sense was so great, and so witty her pate\n That it would be forthcoming forever.\n\n But that's quite absurd; for have you not heard,\n Much tongue and few brains are connected,\n That they are supposed to think least who talk most,\n And their wisdom is always suspected?\n\n While Lucy was young, had she bridled her tongue\n With a little good sense and exertion,\n Who knows but she might have been our delight,\n Instead of our jest and aversion?\n\nANN TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE VOICE OF SPRING\n\n\n I come, I come! ye have called me long;\n I come o'er the mountains, with light and song.\n Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth\n By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,\n By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass,\n By the green leaves opening as I pass.\n\n I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut-flowers\n By thousands have burst from the forest bowers,\n And the ancient graves and the fallen fanes\n Are veiled with wreathes on Italian plains;\n But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom,\n To speak of the ruin or the tomb!\n\n I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy North,\n And the larch has hung all his tassels forth;\n The fisher is out on the sunny sea,\n And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free,\n And the pine has a fringe of softer green,\n And the moss looks bright, where my step has been.\n\n I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh,\n And called out each voice of the deep blue sky,\n From the night-bird's lay through the starry time,\n In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime,\n To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes,\n When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks.\n\n From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain;\n They are sweeping on to the silvery main.\n They are flashing down from the mountain brows,\n They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs,\n They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves,\n And the earth resounds with the joy of waves.\n\nFELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE HISTORY LESSON\n\n\n There was a monkey climbed up a tree,\n When he fell down, then down fell he.\n\n There was a crow sat on a stone,\n When he was gone, then there was none.\n\n There was an old wife did eat an apple,\n When she had eat two, she had eat a couple.\n\n There was a horse going to the mill,\n When he went on, he stood not still.\n\n There was a butcher cut his thumb,\n When it did bleed, then blood did come.\n\n There was a lackey ran a race,\n When he ran fast, he ran apace.\n\n There was a cobbler clouting shoon,\n When they were mended, they were done.\n\n There was a chandler making candle,\n When he them strip, he did them handle.\n\n There was a navy went into Spain,\n When it returned, it came again.\n\nANONYMOUS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSONG OF LIFE\n\n\n A traveller on a dusty road\n Strewed acorns on the lea;\n And one took root and sprouted up,\n And grew into a tree.\n Love sought its shade at evening-time,\n To breathe its early vows;\n And Age was pleased, in heights of noon,\n To bask beneath its boughs.\n The dormouse loved its dangling twigs,\n The birds sweet music bore--\n It stood a glory in its place,\n A blessing evermore.\n\n A little spring had lost its way\n Amid the grass and fern;\n A passing stranger scooped a well\n Where weary men might turn,\n He walled it in, and hung with care\n A ladle on the brink;\n He thought not of the deed he did,\n But judged that Toil might drink.\n He passed again; and lo! the well,\n By summer never dried,\n Had cooled ten thousand parch\u00e9d tongues,\n And saved a life beside.\n\n A nameless man, amid the crowd\n That thronged the daily mart,\n Let fall a word of hope and love,\n Unstudied from the heart,\n A whisper on the tumult thrown,\n A transitory breath,\n It raised a brother from the dust,\n It saved a soul from death.\n O germ! O fount! O word of love!\n O thought at random cast!\n Ye were but little at the first,\n But mighty at the last.\n\nCHARLES MACKAY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOOD TIME COMING\n\n\n There's a good time coming, boys.\n A good time coming:\n We may not live to see the day,\n But earth shall glisten in the ray\n Of the good time coming.\n Cannon-balls may aid the truth,\n But thought's a weapon stronger;\n We'll win our battle by its aid;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n The pen shall supersede the sword,\n And Right, not Might, shall be the lord\n In the good time coming.\n Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind,\n And be acknowledged stronger;\n The proper impulse has been given;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys\n A good time coming:\n War in all men's eyes shall be\n A monster of iniquity\n In the good time coming.\n Nations shall not quarrel then,\n To prove which is the stronger;\n Nor slaughter men for glory's sake;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n Hateful rivalries of creed\n Shall not make their martyrs bleed\n In the good time coming.\n Religion shall be shorn of pride,\n And flourish all the stronger;\n And Charity shall trim her lamp;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n And a poor man's family\n Shall not be his misery\n In the good time coming.\n Every child shall be a help\n To make his right arm stronger;\n The happier he, the more he has:--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n Little children shall not toil\n Under, or above, the soil\n In the good time coming;\n But shall play in healthful fields,\n Till limbs and mind grow stronger;\n And every one shall read and write;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n The people shall be temperate,\n And shall love instead of hate,\n In the good time coming.\n They shall use, and not abuse,\n And make all virtue stronger;\n The reformation has begun;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\n There's a good time coming, boys,\n A good time coming:\n Let us aid it all we can,\n Every woman, every man,\n The good time coming:\n Smallest helps, if rightly given,\n Make the impulse stronger;\n 'T will be strong enough one day;--\n Wait a little longer.\n\nCHARLES MACKAY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWINDY NIGHTS\n\n\n Whenever the moon and stars are set,\n Whenever the wind is high,\n All night long in the dark and wet.\n A man goes riding by,\n Late at night when the fires are out,\n Why does he gallop and gallop about?\n\n Whenever the trees are crying aloud,\n And ships are tossed at sea,\n By, on the highway, low and loud,\n By at the gallop goes he.\n By at the gallop he goes, and then\n By he comes back at the gallop again.\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL WORLD\n\n\n Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful World,\n With the wonderful water round you curled,\n And the wonderful grass upon your breast,\n World, you are beautifully drest.\n\n The wonderful air is over me,\n And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree--\n It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,\n And talks to itself on the top of the hills.\n\n You friendly Earth, how far do you go,\n With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow,\n With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles,\n And people upon you for thousands of miles?\n\n Ah! you are so great, and I am so small,\n I hardly can think of you, World, at all;\n And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,\n My mother kissed me, and said, quite gay,\n\n \"If the wonderful World is great to you,\n And great to father and mother, too,\n You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot!\n You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!\"\n\nWILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHARK! HARK! THE LARK\n\n\n Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,\n And Phoebus 'gins arise,\n His steeds to water at those springs\n On chaliced flowers that lies;\n\n And winking Mary-buds begin\n To ope their golden eyes;\n With every thing that pretty bin,\n My lady sweet, arise;\n Arise, arise.\n\nWILLIAM SHAKESPEARE\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nJOG ON, JOG ON\n\n\n Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,\n And merrily hent the stile-a;\n A merry heart goes all the day,\n Your sad tires in a mile-a.\n\nWILLIAM SHAKESPEARE\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSWEET STORY OF OLD\n\n\n I think when I read that sweet story of old,\n When Jesus was here among men,\n How He call'd little children as lambs to His fold,\n I should like to have been with them then.\n\n I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,\n That His arm had been thrown around me,\n And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,\n \"Let the little ones come unto me.\"\n\n Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,\n And ask for a share in His love;\n And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,\n I shall see Him and hear Him above;\n\n In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare\n For all who are washed and forgiven;\n And many dear children shall be with Him there,\n For of such is the kingdom of heaven.\n\n But thousands and thousands who wander and fall,\n Never heard of that heavenly home;\n I wish they could know there is room for them all,\n And that Jesus has bid them to come.\n\nJEMIMA LUKE\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nMY SHADOW\n\n\n I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,\n And what can be the use of him is more than I can see,\n He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;\n And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.\n\n The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow--\n Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;\n For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,\n And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.\n\n He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,\n And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.\n He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;\n I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!\n\n One morning, very early, before the sun was up,\n I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;\n But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,\n Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed!\n\nROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBY COOL SILOAM'S SHADY RILL\n\n\n By cool Siloam's shady rill\n How sweet the lily grows!\n How sweet the breath beneath the hill\n Of Sharon's dewy rose!\n\n Lo, such the child whose early feet\n The paths of peace have trod;\n Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,\n Is upward drawn to God.\n\n By cool Siloam's shady rill\n The lily must decay;\n The rose that blooms beneath the hill\n Must shortly fade away.\n\n And soon, too soon, the wintry hour\n Of man's maturer age\n Will shake the soul with sorrow's power,\n And stormy passion's rage.\n\n O Thou, whose infant feet were found\n Within thy Father's shrine,\n Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned,\n Were all alike divine;\n\n Dependent on thy bounteous breath,\n We seek thy grace alone,\n In childhood, manhood, age, and death,\n To keep us still thine own.\n\nREGINALD HEBER\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WIND IN A FROLIC\n\n\n The wind one morning sprang up from sleep,\n Saying, \"Now for a frolic! now for a leap!\n Now for a madcap galloping chase!\n I'll make a commotion in every place!\"\n So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,\n Creaking the signs, and scattering down\n Shutters, and whisking, with merciless squalls,\n Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls.\n There never was heard a much lustier shout,\n As the apples and oranges tumbled about;\n And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes\n Forever on watch, ran off each with a prize.\n Then away to the fields it went blustering and humming,\n And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming.\n It plucked by their tails the grave, matronly cows,\n And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows,\n Till, offended at such a familiar salute,\n They all turned their backs and stood silently mute.\n So on it went, capering and playing its pranks;\n Whistling with reeds on the broad river banks;\n Puffing the birds, as they sat on the spray,\n Or the traveler grave on the King's highway.\n It was not too nice to bustle the bags\n Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags,\n 'T was so bold that it feared not to play its joke\n With the doctor's wig, and the gentleman's cloak.\n Through the forest it roared, and cried gayly, \"Now,\n You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow!\"\n And it made them bow without more ado,\n Or it cracked their great branches through and through.\n Then it rushed like a monster o'er cottage and farm,\n Striking their inmates with sudden alarm;\n And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm.\n There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps,\n To see if their poultry were free from mishaps;\n The turkeys, they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud,\n And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd;\n There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on,\n Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone.\n But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane\n With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain,\n For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and he stood\n With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud.\n\nWILLIAM HOWITT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD\n\n\n They grew in beauty, side by side,\n They filled one home with glee;\n Their graves are severed far and wide,\n By mount, and stream, and sea.\n\n The same fond mother bent at night\n O'er each fair, sleeping brow;\n She had each folded flower in sight:\n Where are those sleepers now?\n\n One, midst the forest of the West,\n By a dark stream is laid;\n The Indian knows his place of rest,\n Far in the cedar shade.\n\n The sea, the blue, lone sea, hath one;\n He lies where pearls lie deep;\n He was the loved of all, yet none\n O'er his low bed may weep.\n\n One sleeps where southern vines are dressed\n Above the noble slain;\n He wrapped the colors round his breast\n On a blood-red field of Spain.\n\n And one--o'er her the myrtle showers\n Its leaves by soft winds fanned;\n She faded midst Italian flowers--\n The last of that fair band.\n\n And parted thus, they rest who played\n Beneath the same green tree;\n Whose voices mingled as they prayed\n Around one parent knee.\n\n They that with smiles lit up the hall,\n And cheered with song the hearth;\n Alas for love! if thou wert all,\n And naught beyond, O earth!\n\nFELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWE ARE SEVEN\n\n\n ... A simple child\n That lightly draws its breath,\n And feels its life in every limb,\n What should it know of death?\n\n\n I met a little cottage-girl:\n She was eight years old, she said;\n Her hair was thick with many a curl\n That clustered round her head.\n\n She had a rustic, woodland air,\n And she was wildly clad;\n Her eyes were bright, and very fair--\n Her beauty made me glad.\n\n \"Sisters and brothers, little maid,\n How many may you be?\"\n \"How many? Seven in all,\" she said,\n And wond'ring looked at me.\n\n \"And where are they? I pray you tell.\"\n She answered, \"Seven are we;\n And two of us at Conway dwell,\n And two are gone to sea.\n\n \"Two of us in the churchyard lie,\n My sister and my brother;\n And, in the churchyard cottage, I\n Dwell near them with my mother.\"\n\n \"You say that two at Conway dwell,\n And two are gone to sea,\n Yet ye are seven?--I pray you tell,\n Sweet maid, how this may be?\"\n\n Then did the little maid reply,\n \"Seven boys and girls are we;\n Two of us in the churchyard lie,\n Beneath the churchyard tree.\"\n\n \"You run about, my little maid,\n Your limbs they are alive:\n If two are in the churchyard laid,\n Then ye are only five.\"\n\n \"Their graves are green, they may be seen,\"\n The little maid replied;\n \"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,\n And they are side by side.\n\n \"My stockings there I often knit,\n My kerchief there I hem;\n And there upon the ground I sit--\n I sit and sing to them.\n\n \"And often after sunset, sir,\n When it is light and fair,\n I take my little porringer,\n And eat my supper there.\n\n \"The first that died was little Jane;\n In bed she moaning lay,\n Till God released her of her pain,\n And then she went away.\n\n \"So in the churchyard she was laid;\n And when the grass was dry,\n Together round her grave we played,\n My brother John and I.\n\n \"And when the ground was white with snow,\n And I could run and slide,\n My brother John was forced to go,\n And he lies by her side.\"\n\n \"How many are you, then,\" said I,\n \"If they two are in heaven?\"\n The little maiden did reply,\n \"O master! we are seven.\"\n\n \"But they are dead; these two are dead!\n Their spirits are in heaven!\"\n 'T was throwing words away; for still\n The little maid would have her will,\n And said, \"Nay, we are seven!\"\n\nWILLIAM WORDSWORTH\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BETTER LAND\n\n\n \"I hear thee speak of the better land;\n Thou call'st its children a happy band;\n Mother! oh, where is that radiant shore?\n Shall we not seek it and weep no more?\n Is it where the flower of the orange blows,\n And the fireflies dance through the myrtle boughs?\"--\n \"Not there, not there my child!\"\n\n \"Is it where the feathery palm trees rise,\n And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?\n Or midst the green islands of glittering seas,\n Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,\n And strange bright birds on their starry wings\n Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?\"--\n \"Not there, not there, my child!\"\n\n \"Is it far away, in some region old,\n Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold?\n Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,\n And the diamond lights up the secret mine,\n And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand?\n Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?\"--\n \"Not there, not there, my child!\"\n\n \"Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy;\n Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;\n Dreams cannot picture a world so fair,--\n Sorrow and death may not enter there;\n Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom;\n For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb,\n It is there, it is there, my child!\"\n\nFELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE JUVENILE ORATOR\n\n\n You'd scarce expect one of my age\n To speak in public, on the stage;\n And if I chance to fall below\n Demosthenes or Cicero,\n Don't view me with a critic's eye,\n But pass my imperfections by.\n\n Large streams from little fountains flow;\n Tall oaks from little acorns grow;\n And though I now am small and young,\n Of judgment weak, and feeble tongue,\n Yet all great learned men--like me--\n Once learned to read their A, B, C.\n\n And why may not Columbia's soil\n Rear men as great as Britain's isle,\n Exceed what Greece and Rome have done,\n Or any land beneath the sun?\n\n May n't Massachusetts prove as great\n As any other sister state?\n Or, where's the town, go far or near,\n That does not find a rival here?\n Or, where 's the boy but three feet high\n Who's made improvement more than I?\n\n Those thoughts inspire my youthful mind\n To be the greatest of mankind;\n Great, not like C\u00e6sar, stained with blood;\n But only great, as I am good.\n\nDAVID EVERETT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CROW\n\n\nA FABLE\n\n\n The fox and the crow,\n In prose, I well know,\n Many good little girls can rehearse:\n Perhaps it will tell\n Pretty nearly as well,\n If we try the same fable in verse.\n\n In a dairy a crow,\n Having ventured to go,\n Some food for her young ones to seek,\n Flew up in the trees,\n With a fine piece of cheese,\n Which she joyfully held in her beak.\n\n A fox, who lived by,\n To the tree saw her fly,\n And to share in the prize made a vow;\n For having just dined,\n He for cheese felt inclined,\n So he went and sat under the bough.\n\n She was cunning, he knew,\n But so was he too,\n And with flattery adapted his plan;\n For he knew if she'd speak,\n It must fall from her beak,\n So, bowing politely, began.\n\n \"'T is a very fine day\"\n (Not a word did she say):\n \"The wind, I believe, ma'am, is south:\n A fine harvest for peas:\"\n He then looked at the cheese,\n But the crow did not open her mouth.\n\n Sly Reynard, not tired,\n Her plumage admired,\n \"How charming! how brilliant its hue!\n The voice must be fine,\n Of a bird so divine,\n Ah, let me just hear it, pray do.\n\n \"Believe me, I long\n To hear a sweet song!\"\n The silly crow foolishly tries:\n She scarce gave one squall,\n When the cheese she let fall,\n And the fox ran away with the prize.\n\n\nMORAL\n\n\n Ye innocent fair,\n Of coxcombs beware,\n To flattery never give ear;\n Try well each pretense,\n And keep to plain sense,\n And then you have little to fear.\n\nLITTLE B. (TAYLOR?)\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE USE OF FLOWERS\n\n\n God might have bade the earth bring forth\n Enough for great and small,\n The oak tree and the cedar tree,\n Without a flower at all.\n\n We might have had enough, enough\n For every want of ours,\n For luxury, medicine, and toil,\n And yet have had no flowers.\n\n The ore within the mountain mine\n Requireth none to grow;\n Nor doth it need the lotus flower\n To make the river flow.\n\n The clouds might give abundant rain,\n The nightly dews might fall,\n And the herb that keepeth life in man\n Might yet have drunk them all.\n\n Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,\n All dyed with rainbow light,\n All fashioned with supremest grace,\n Upspringing day and night,--\n\n Springing in valleys green and low,\n And on the mountain high,\n And in the silent wilderness,\n Where no man passes by?\n\n Our outward life requires them not,\n Then wherefore had they birth?--\n To minister delight to man,\n To beautify the earth;\n\n To comfort man, to whisper hope\n Whene'er his faith is dim;\n For Whoso careth for the flowers\n Will much more care for him.\n\nMARY HOWITT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTED JOHN\n\n\n One honest John Tomkins, a hedger and ditcher,\n Although he was poor, did not want to be richer;\n For all such vain wishes in him were prevented\n By a fortunate habit of being contented.\n\n Though cold was the weather, or dear was the food,\n John never was found in a murmuring mood;\n For this he was constantly heard to declare,--\n What he could not prevent he would cheerfully bear.\n\n \"For why should I grumble and murmur?\" he said;\n \"If I cannot get meat, I can surely get bread;\n And, though fretting may make my calamities deeper,\n It can never cause bread and cheese to be cheaper.\"\n\n If John was afflicted with sickness or pain,\n He wished himself better, but did not complain,\n Nor lie down and fret in despondence and sorrow,\n But said that he hoped to be better to-morrow.\n\n If any one wronged him or treated him ill,\n Why, John was good-natured and sociable still;\n For he said that revenging the injury done\n Would be making two rogues when there need be but one,\n\n And thus honest John, though his station was humble,\n Passed through this sad world without even a grumble;\n And I wish that some folks, who are greater and richer,\n Would copy John Tomkins, the hedger and ditcher.\n\nJANE TAYLOR\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS, AND\nHOW HE GAINED THEM\n\n\n \"You are old, Father William,\" the young man cried;\n \"The few locks which are left you are gray;\n You are hale, Father William--a hearty old man:\n Now tell me the reason, I pray.\"\n\n \"In the days of my youth,\" Father William replied,\n \"I remembered that youth would fly fast,\n And abused not my health and my vigor at first,\n That I never might need them at last.\"\n\n \"You are old, Father William,\" the young man cried,\n \"And pleasures with youth pass away;\n And yet you lament not the days that are gone:\n Now tell me the reason, I pray.\"\n\n \"In the days of my youth,\" Father William replied,\n \"I remembered that youth could not last;\n I thought of the future, whatever I did,\n That I never might grieve for the past.\"\n\n \"You are old, Father William,\" the young man cried,\n \"And life must be hastening away;\n You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death:\n Now tell me the reason, I pray.\"\n\n \"I am cheerful, young man,\" Father William replied;\n \"Let the cause thy attention engage:\n In the days of my youth I remembered my God;\n And he hath not forgotten my age.\"\n\nROBERT SOUTHEY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROST\n\n\n The frost looked forth on a still, clear night,\n And whispered, \"Now I shall be out of sight;\n So through the valley and over the height\n I'll silently take my way.\n I will not go on like that blustering train,\n The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,\n That make so much bustle and noise in vain,\n But I'll be as busy as they!\"\n\n He flew up, and powdered the mountain's crest;\n He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed\n With diamonds and pearls;--and over the breast\n Of the quivering lake he spread\n A bright coat of mail, that it need not fear\n The glittering point of many a spear\n That he hung on its margin, far and near,\n Where a rock was rearing its head.\n\n He went to the windows of those who slept,\n And over each pane, like a fairy crept;\n Wherever he breathed--wherever he stepped--\n Most beautiful things were seen\n By morning's first light! There were flowers and trees,\n With bevies of birds and swarms of bright bees;\n There were cities--temples, and towers; and these,\n All pictured in silvery sheen!\n\n But one thing he did that was hardly fair--\n He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there\n That none had remembered for him to prepare,\n \"Now, just to set them a-thinking,\n I'll bite their rich basket of fruit,\" said he,\n \"This burly old pitcher--I'll burst it in three!\n And the glass with the water they've left for me\n Shall 'tchick!' to tell them I'm drinking!\"\n\nHANNAH FLAGG GOULD\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM\n\n\n It was a summer evening,\n Old Kaspar's work was done,\n And he before his cottage door\n Was sitting in the sun,\n And by him sported on the green\n His little grandchild Wilhelmine.\n\n She saw her brother Peterkin\n Roll something large and round,\n Which he beside the rivulet\n In playing there had found;\n He came to ask what he had found,\n That was so large and smooth and round.\n\n Old Kaspar took it from the boy,\n Who stood expectant by;\n And then the old man shook his head,\n And with a natural sigh,\n \"'T is some poor fellow's skull,\" said he,\n \"Who fell in the great victory.\n\n \"I find them in the garden,\n For there's many hereabout;\n And often, when I go to plow\n The plowshare turns them out!\n For many thousand men,\" said he,\n \"Were slain in that great victory.\"\n\n \"Now tell us what 't was all about,\"\n Young Peterkin he cries;\n While little Wilhelmine looks up\n With wonder-waiting eyes;\n \"Now tell us all about the war,\n And what they killed each other for.\"\n\n \"It was the English,\" Kaspar cried,\n \"Who put the French to rout;\n But what they killed each other for\n I could not well make out.\n But everybody said,\" quoth he,\n \"That 't was a famous victory.\n\n \"My father lived at Blenheim then,\n Yon little stream hard by;\n They burnt his dwelling to the ground,\n And he was forced to fly:\n So with his wife and child he fled,\n Nor had he where to rest his head.\n\n \"With fire and sword the country round\n Was wasted far and wide,\n And many a childing mother then\n And new-born baby died:\n But things like that, you know, must be\n At every famous victory.\n\n \"They say it was a shocking sight\n After the field was won;\n For many thousand bodies here\n Lay rotting in the sun:\n But things like that, you know, must be\n After a famous victory.\n\n \"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won,\n And our good Prince Eugene.\"\n \"Why 't was a very wicked thing!\"\n Said little Wilhelmine.\n \"Nay--nay--my little girl,\" quoth he,\n \"It was a famous victory.\n\n \"And everybody praised the Duke\n Who this great fight did win.\"\n \"And what good came of it at last?\"\n Quoth little Peterkin.\n \"Why, that I cannot tell,\" said he,\n \"But 't was a famous victory.\"\n\nROBERT SOUTHEY\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHAMELEON\n\n\nA FABLE\n\nFROM M. DE LAMOTTE\n\n\n Oft has it been my lot to mark\n A proud, conceited, talking spark,\n With eyes, that hardly served at most\n To guard their master 'gainst a post;\n\n Yet round the world the blade has been\n To see whatever could be seen,\n Returning from his finished tour,\n Grown ten times perter than before;\n Whatever word you chance to drop,\n The traveled fool your mouth will stop:\n \"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow,\n I've seen--and sure I ought to know,\"\n So begs you'd pay a due submission,\n And acquiesce in his decision.\n\n Two travelers of such a cast,\n As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed\n And on their way in friendly chat,\n Now talked of this, and then of that,\n Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter.\n Of the chameleon's form and nature.\n \"A stranger animal,\" cries one,\n \"Sure never lived beneath the sun.\n A lizard's body, lean and long,\n A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,\n Its foot with triple claw disjoined;\n And what a length of tail behind!\n How slow its pace; and then its hue--\n Who ever saw so fine a blue?\"\n\n \"Hold, there,\" the other quick replies,\n \"'T is _green_, I saw it with these eyes,\n As late with open mouth it lay,\n And warmed it in the sunny ray:\n Stretched at its ease, the beast I viewed\n And saw it eat the air for food.\"\n \"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,\n And must again affirm it blue;\n At leisure I the beast surveyed,\n Extending in the cooling shade.\"\n \"'T is green, 't is green, sir I assure ye!\"\n \"Green!\" cries the other in a fury--\n\n \"Why, sir!--d'ye think I've lost my eyes?\"\n \"'T were no great loss,\" the friend replies,\n \"For, if they always serve you thus,\n You'll find them of but little use.\"\n\n So high at last the contest rose,\n From words they almost came to blows;\n When luckily came by a third--\n To him the question they referred,\n And begged he'd tell 'em, if he knew,\n Whether the thing was green or blue.\n \"Sirs,\" cries the umpire, \"cease your pother!\n The creature's neither one nor t' other.\n I caught the animal last night,\n And viewed it o'er by candlelight:\n I marked it well--'t was black as jet--\n You stare--but sirs, I've got it yet,\n And can produce it.\" \"Pray, sir, do:\n I'll lay my life the thing is blue.\"\n \"And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen\n The reptile, you'll pronounce him green.\"\n \"Well, then, at once to ease the doubt,\"\n Replies the man, \"I'll turn him out:\n And when before your eyes I've set him,\n If you don't find him black, I'll eat him.\"\n He said: then full before their sight\n Produced the beast, and lo!--'t was white.\n\n\n Both stared, the man looked wondrous wise--\n \"My children,\" the chameleon cries,\n (Then first the creature found a tongue,)\n \"You are all right, and all are wrong:\n When next you talk of what you view,\n Think others see as well as you;\n Nor wonder, if you find that none\n Prefers your eyesight to his own.\"\n\nJAMES MERRICK\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLACKBERRY GIRL\n\n\n \"Why, Phebe, are you come so soon?\n Where are your berries, child?\n You cannot, sure, have sold them all,\n You had a basket piled.\"\n\n \"No, mother, as I climbed the fence,\n The nearest way to town,\n My apron caught upon the stake,\n And so I tumbled down.\n\n \"I scratched my arm and tore my hair,\n But still did not complain;\n And had my blackberries been safe,\n Should not have cared a grain.\n\n \"But when I saw them on the ground.\n All scattered by my side,\n I picked my empty basket up,\n And down I sat and cried.\n\n \"Just then a pretty little Miss\n Chanced to be walking by;\n She stopped, and looking pitiful,\n She begged me not to cry.\n\n \"'Poor little girl, you fell,' said she,\n 'And must be sadly hurt;'\n 'Oh, no,' I cried; 'but see my fruit,\n All mixed with sand and dirt.'\n\n \"'Well, do not grieve for that,' she said;\n 'Go home, and get some more,'\n 'Ah, no, for I have stripped the vines,\n These were the last they bore.\n\n \"'My father, Miss, is very poor,\n And works in yonder stall;\n He has so many little ones,\n He cannot clothe us all.\n\n \"'I always longed to go to church,\n But never could I go;\n For when I asked him for a gown,\n He always answered, \"No.\n\n \"'\"There's not a father in the world\n That loves his children more;\n I'd get you one with all my heart,\n But, Phebe, I am poor.\"\n\n \"'But when the blackberries were ripe,\n He said to me one day,\n \"Phebe, if you will take the time\n That's given you for play,\n\n \"'\"And gather blackberries enough,\n And carry them to town,\n To buy your bonnet and your shoes,\n I'll try to get a gown.\"\n\n \"'Oh, Miss, I fairly jumped for joy,\n My spirits were so light;\n And so, when I had leave to play,\n I picked with all my might.\n\n \"'I sold enough to get my shoes,\n About a week ago;\n And these, if they had not been spilt,\n Would buy a bonnet, too.\n\n \"'But now they're gone, they all are gone,\n And I can get no more,\n And Sundays I must stay at home,\n Just as I did before.'\n\n \"And, mother, then I cried again\n As hard as I could cry;\n And looking up, I saw a tear\n Was standing in her eye.\n\n \"She caught her bonnet from her head,\n 'Here, here,' she cried, 'take this!'\n 'Oh, no, indeed--I fear your ma\n Would be offended, Miss.'\n\n \"'My ma! no, never; she delights\n All sorrow to beguile;\n And 't is the sweetest joy she feels,\n To make the wretched smile.\n\n \"'She taught me when I had enough,\n To share it with the poor;\n And never let a needy child,\n Go empty from the door.\n\n \"'So take it, for you need not fear\n Offending her, you see;\n I have another, too, at home,\n And one's enough for me,'\n\n \"So then I took it--here it is--\n For pray what could I do?\n And, mother, I shall love that Miss\n As long as I love you.\"\n\nUNKNOWN\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nMABEL ON MIDSUMMER DAY\n\n\nA STORY OF THE OLDEN TIME\n\n\nPART I\n\n\n \"Arise, my maiden, Mabel,\"\n The mother said; \"arise,\n For the golden sun of midsummer\n Is shining in the skies.\n\n \"Arise, my little maiden,\n For thou must speed away,\n To wait upon thy grandmother\n This livelong summer day.\n\n \"And thou must carry with thee\n This wheaten cake so fine,\n This new-made pat of butter,\n This little flask of wine;\n\n \"And tell the dear old body,\n This day I cannot come,\n For the goodman went out yestermorn.\n And he is not come home.\n\n \"And more than this, poor Amy\n Upon my knee doth lie;\n I fear me, with this fever pain\n The little child will die!\n\n \"And thou canst help thy grandmother:\n The table thou canst spread;\n Canst feed the little dog and bird;\n And thou canst make her bed.\n\n \"And thou canst fetch the water\n From the lady-well hard by;\n And thou canst gather from the wood\n The fagots brown and dry;\n\n \"Canst go down to the lonesome glen,\n To milk the mother ewe;\n This is the work, my Mabel,\n That thou wilt have to do.\n\n \"But listen now, my Mabel,\n This is midsummer day,\n When all the fairy people\n From elfland come away.\n\n \"And when thou 'rt in the lonesome glen,\n Keep by the running burn,\n And do not pluck the strawberry flower,\n Nor break the lady-fern.\n\n \"But think not of the fairy folk,\n Lest mischief should befall;\n Think only of poor Amy,\n And how thou lov'st us all.\n\n \"Yet keep good heart, my Mabel,\n If thou the fairies see,\n And give them kindly answer\n If they should speak to thee.\n\n \"And when into the fir-wood\n Thou goest for fagots brown,\n Do not, like idle children,\n Go wandering up and down.\n\n \"But fill thy little apron,\n My child, with earnest speed;\n And that thou break no living bough\n Within the wood take heed.\n\n \"For they are spiteful brownies\n Who in the wood abide;\n So be thou careful of this thing,\n Lest evil should betide.\n\n \"But think not, little Mabel,\n Whilst thou art in the wood,\n Of dwarfish, willful brownies,\n But of the Father good.\n\n \"And when thou goest to the spring\n To fetch the water thence,\n Do not disturb the little stream,\n Lest this should give offense.\n\n \"For the queen of all the fairies,\n She loves that water bright;\n I've seen her drinking there myself\n On many a summer night.\n\n \"But she's a gracious lady,\n And her thou need'st not fear;\n Only disturb thou not the stream,\n Nor spill the water clear.\"\n\n \"Now all this I will heed, mother,\n Will no word disobey,\n And wait upon the grandmother\n This livelong summer day.\"\n\n\nPART II\n\n Away tripped little Mabel,\n With the wheaten cake so fine,\n With the new-made pat of butter,\n And the little flask of wine.\n\n And long before the sun was hot,\n And the summer mist had cleared,\n Beside the good old grandmother\n The willing child appeared.\n\n And all her mother's message\n She told with right good-will,\n How that the father was away,\n And the little child was ill.\n\n And then she swept the hearth up clean,\n And then the table spread;\n And next she fed the dog and bird;\n And then she made the bed.\n\n \"And go now,\" said the grandmother,\n \"Ten paces down the dell,\n And bring in water for the day,--\n Thou know'st the lady-well.\"\n\n The first time that good Mabel went,\n Nothing at all saw she,\n Except a bird, a sky-blue bird,\n That sat upon a tree.\n\n The next time that good Mabel went,\n There sat a lady bright\n Beside the well,--a lady small,\n All clothed in green and white.\n\n A courtesy low made Mabel,\n And then she stooped to fill\n Her pitcher at the sparkling spring,\n But no drop did she spill.\n\n \"Thou art a handy maiden,\"\n The fairy lady said;\n \"Thou hast not spilt a drop, nor yet\n The fairy spring troubled!\n\n \"And for this thing which thou hast done,\n Yet mayst not understand,\n I give to thee a better gift\n Than houses or than land.\n\n \"Thou shalt do well whate'er thou dost,\n As thou hast done this day;\n Shalt have the will and power to please,\n And shalt be loved alway.\"\n\n Thus having said, she passed from sight,\n And naught could Mabel see,\n But the little bird, the sky-blue bird,\n Upon the leafy tree.\n\n \"And now go,\" said the grandmother,\n \"And fetch in fagots dry;\n All in the neighboring fir-wood\n Beneath the trees they lie.\"\n\n Away went kind, good Mabel,\n Into the fir-wood near,\n Where all the ground was dry and brown.\n And the grass grew thin and sear.\n\n She did not wander up and down,\n Nor yet a live branch pull,\n But steadily of the fallen boughs\n She picked her apron full.\n\n And when the wildwood brownies\n Came sliding to her mind,\n She drove them thence, as she was told,\n With home thoughts sweet and kind.\n\n But all that while the brownies\n Within the fir-wood still,\n They watched her how she picked the wood,\n And strove to do no ill.\n\n \"And, oh, but she is small and neat,\"\n Said one; \"'t were shame to spite\n A creature so demure and meek,\n A creature harmless quite!\"\n\n \"Look only,\" said another,\n \"At her little gown of blue;\n At her kerchief pinned about her head,\n And at her little shoe!\"\n\n \"Oh, but she is a comely child,\"\n Said a third; \"and we will lay\n A good-luck penny in her path,\n A boon for her this day,--\n Seeing she broke no living wood;\n No live thing did affray!\"\n\n With that the smallest penny,\n Of the finest silver ore,\n Upon the dry and slippery path,\n Lay Mabel's feet before.\n\n With joy she picked the penny up,\n The fairy penny good;\n And with her fagots dry and brown\n Went wandering from the wood.\n\n \"Now she has that,\" said the brownies,\n \"Let flax be ever so dear,\n 'T will buy her clothes of the very best,\n For many and many a year!\"\n\n \"And go now,\" said the grandmother,\n \"Since falling is the dew,\n Go down unto the lonesome glen,\n And milk the mother ewe!\"\n\n All down into the lonesome glen,\n Through copses thick and wild,\n Through moist rank grass, by trickling streams,\n Went on the willing child.\n\n And when she came to the lonesome glen,\n She kept beside the burn,\n And neither plucked the strawberry flower\n Nor broke the lady fern.\n\n And while she milked the mother ewe\n Within this lonesome glen,\n She wished that little Amy\n Were strong and well again.\n\n And soon as she thought this thought,\n She heard a coming sound,\n As if a thousand fairy folk\n Were gathering all around.\n\n And then she heard a little voice,\n Shrill as the midge's wing,\n That spake aloud,--\"A human child\n Is here; yet mark this thing,--\n\n \"The lady-fern is all unbroke,\n The strawberry flower unta'en!\n What shall be done for her who still\n From mischief can refrain?\"\n\n \"Give her a fairy cake!\" said one;\n \"Grant her a wish!\" said three;\n \"The latest wish that she hath wished,\"\n Said all, \"whate'er it be!\"\n\n Kind Mabel heard the words they spake,\n And from the lonesome glen\n Unto the good old grandmother\n Went gladly back again.\n\n Thus happened it to Mabel\n On that midsummer day,\n And these three fairy blessings\n She took with her away.\n\n 'T is good to make all duty sweet,\n To be alert and kind;\n 'T is good, like little Mabel,\n To have a willing mind.\n\nMARY HOWITT\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLLEWELLYN AND HIS DOG\n\n\n The spearmen heard the bugle sound,\n And cheer'ly smiled the morn;\n And many a brach, and many a hound,\n Attend Llewellyn's horn.\n\n And still he blew a louder blast,\n And gave a louder cheer;\n \"Come, Gelert! why art thou the last\n Llewellyn's horn to hear?\n\n \"Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam,\n The flower of all his race?\n So true, so brave--a lamb at home,\n A lion in the chase.\"\n\n That day Llewellyn little loved\n The chase of hart or hare,\n And scant and small the booty proved,\n For Gelert was not there.\n\n Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied,\n When, near the portal seat,\n His truant Gelert he espied,\n Bounding his lord to greet.\n\n But when he gained the castle door,\n Aghast the chieftain stood;\n The hound was smeared with gouts of gore\n His lips and fangs ran blood!\n\n Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise;\n Unused such looks to meet,\n His fav'rite checked his joyful guise,\n And crouched, and licked his feet.\n\n Onward in haste Llewellyn passed\n (And on went Gelert too),\n And still, where'er his eyes were cast,\n Fresh blood gouts shocked his view!\n\n O'erturned his infant's bed he found,\n The blood-stained cover rent;\n And all around the walls and ground\n With recent blood besprent.\n\n He called his child--no voice replied;\n He searched with terror wild;\n Blood! blood! he found on every side,\n But nowhere found his child!\n\n \"Hell-hound! by thee my child's devoured!\"\n The frantic father cried;\n And to the hilt his vengeful sword\n He plunged in Gelert's side.\n\n His suppliant, as to earth he fell,\n No pity could impart;\n But still his Gelert's dying yell\n Passed heavy o'er his heart.\n\n Aroused by Gelert's dying yell,\n Some slumberer wakened nigh;\n What words the parent's joy can tell,\n To hear his infant cry!\n\n Concealed beneath a mangled heap,\n His hurried search had missed,\n All glowing from his rosy sleep,\n His cherub boy he kissed!\n\n Nor scratch had he, nor harm, nor dread,\n But the same couch beneath\n Lay a great wolf, all torn and dead,--\n Tremendous still in death!\n\n Ah, what was then Llewellyn's pain!\n For now the truth was clear;\n The gallant hound the wolf had slain,\n To save Llewellyn's heir.\n\n Vain, vain was all Llewellyn's woe;\n \"Best of thy kind, adieu!\n The frantic deed which laid thee low\n This heart shall ever rue!\"\n\n And now a gallant tomb they raised,\n With costly sculpture decked;\n And marbles storied with his praise\n Poor Gelert's bones protect.\n\n Here never could the spearmen pass,\n Or forester, unmoved,\n Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass\n Llewellyn's sorrow proved.\n\n And here he hung his horn and spear,\n And oft, as evening fell,\n In fancy's piercing sounds would hear\n Poor Gelert's dying yell.\n\nWILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNOWBIRD'S SONG\n\n\n The ground was all covered with snow one day,\n And two little sisters were busy at play,\n When a snowbird was sitting close by on a tree,\n And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee,\n Chick-a-de-dee, chick-a-de-dee,\n And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee.\n\n He had not been singing that tune very long,\n Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song:\n \"Oh, sister, look out of the window,\" said she;\n \"Here's a dear little bird singing chick-a-de-dee.\n Chick-a-de-dee, etc.\n\n \"Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes,\n And a nice little frock, and a hat if he choose;\n I wish he'd come into the parlor and see\n How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-dee.\"\n Chick-a-de-dee, etc.\n\n \"There is one, my dear child, though I cannot tell who,\n Has clothed me already, and warm enough too.\n Good morning! Oh, who are so happy as we?\"\n And away he went singing his chick-a-de-dee.\n Chick-a-de-dee, etc.\n\nFRANCIS C. WOODWORTH\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFOR A' THAT AND A' THAT\n\n\n Is there for honest poverty\n Wha hangs his head, and a' that?\n The coward slave, we pass him by;\n We dare be poor for a' that.\n For a' that, and a' that,\n Our toils obscure, and a' that;\n The rank is but the guinea's stamp,--\n The man's the gowd for a' that.\n\n What though on hamely fare we dine,\n Wear hoddin gray, and a' that?\n Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,--\n A man's a man for a' that.\n For a' that, and a' that,\n Their tinsel show, and a' that;\n The honest man, though e'er sae poor,\n Is king o' men for a' that.\n\n Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord,\n Wha struts, and stares, and a' that--\n Though hundreds worship at his word,\n He's but a coof for a' that;\n For a' that, and a' that,\n His riband, star, and a' that;\n The man of independent mind,\n He looks and laughs at a' that.\n\n A prince can mak a belted knight,\n A marquis, duke, and a' that;\n But an honest man's aboon his might,--\n Guid faith, he maunna fa' that!\n For a' that, and a' that;\n Their dignities, and a' that,\n The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,\n Are higher ranks than a' that.\n\n Then let us pray that come it may,--\n As come it will for a' that,--\n That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,\n May bear the gree, and a' that.\n For a' that, and a' that,\n It's coming yet, for a' that,--\n When man to man, the warld o'er,\n Shall brothers be for a' that!\n\nROBERT BURNS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFABLES\n\n * * * * *\n\nFABLES FROM \u00c6SOP\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE GOOSE THAT LAID GOLDEN EGGS\n\n\nThere was a man who once had a very handsome goose, that always laid\ngolden eggs. Now, he thought there must be gold inside of her, so he\nwrung her neck straightway, and found she was exactly like all other\ngeese. He thought to find riches, and lost the little he had.\n\nThe fable teaches that one who has anything should be content with it,\nand avoid covetousness, lest he lose what he has.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOYS AND THE FROGS\n\nA company of idle boys were watching some frogs by the side of a pond,\nand as fast as any of the frogs lifted their heads the boys would pelt\nthem down again with stones.\n\n\"Boys,\" said one of the frogs, \"you forget that, though this may be\nfun for you, it is death to us.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION AND THE MOUSE\n\nA mouse happened to run into the mouth of a sleeping lion, who roused\nhimself, caught him, and was just about eating him, when the little\nfellow begged him to let him go, saying, \"If I am saved, I shall be\neverlastingly grateful.\" So, with a smile, the lion let him off. It\nbefell him not long after to be saved by the mouse's gratitude, for\nwhen he was caught by some hunters and bound by ropes to a tree, the\nmouse, hearing his roaring groans, came and gnawed the ropes, and set\nhim free, saying, \"You laughed at me once, as if you could receive no\nreturn from me, but now, you see, it is you who have to be grateful to\nme.\"\n\nThe story shows that there come sudden changes of affairs, when the\nmost powerful owe everything to the weakest.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE GRAPES\n\nA hungry fox discovered some bunches of grapes hanging from a vine\nhigh up a tree, and, as he gazed, longed to get at them, and could\nnot; so he left them hanging there and went off muttering, \"They're\nsour grapes.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROG AND THE OX\n\nAn ox, grazing in a swampy meadow, chanced to set his foot among a\nparcel of young frogs, and crushed nearly the whole brood to death.\nOne that escaped ran off to his mother with the dreadful news. \"O\nmother,\" said he, \"it was a beast--such a big four-footed beast, that\ndid it!\" \"Big?\" quoth the old frog, \"How big? was it as big\"--and she\npuffed herself out--\"as big as this?\" \"Oh, a great deal bigger than\nthat.\" \"Well, was it so big?\" and she swelled herself out yet more.\n\"Indeed, mother, but it was; and if you were to burst yourself, you\nwould never reach half its size.\" The old frog made one more trial,\ndetermined to be as big as the ox, and burst herself, indeed.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAT, THE MONKEY, AND THE CHESTNUTS\n\nA cat and a monkey were sitting one day in the chimney corner watching\nsome chestnuts which their master had laid down to roast in the ashes.\nThe chestnuts had begun to burst with the heat, and the monkey said to\nthe cat, \"It is plain that your paws were made especially for pulling\nout those chestnuts. Do you reach forth and draw them out. Your paws\nare, indeed, exactly like our master's hands.\" The cat was greatly\nflattered by this speech, and reached forward for the tempting\nchestnuts, but scarcely had he touched the hot ashes than he drew back\nwith a cry, for he had burnt his paw; but he tried again, and managed\nto pull one chestnut out; then he pulled another, and a third, though\neach time he singed the hair on his paws. When he could pull no more\nout he turned about and found that the monkey had taken the time to\ncrack the chestnuts and eat them.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE COUNTRY MAID AND HER MILKPAIL\n\nA country maid was walking slowly along with a pail of milk upon her\nhead, and thinking thus:\n\n\"The money for which I shall sell this milk will buy me three hundred\neggs. These eggs, allowing for what may prove addled, will produce\nat least two hundred and fifty chickens. The chickens will be fit to\ncarry to market about Christmas, when poultry always brings a good\nprice, so that by May-day I shall have money enough to buy a new gown.\nLet me see--green suits me; yes, it shall be green. In this dress I\nwill go to the fair, where all the young fellows will want me for a\npartner, but I shall refuse every one of them.\" By this time she was\nso full of her fancy that she tossed her head proudly, when over\nwent the pail, which she had entirely forgotten, and all the milk was\nspilled on the ground.\n\nMoral. Don't count your chickens before they are hatched.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN\n\nThe Ass once dressed himself in the Lion's skin and went about\nfrightening all the little beasts. Now he happened on the Fox, and\ntried to frighten him too; but the Fox chanced to hear him speak,\nand said: \"Well, to be sure, I should have been frightened too, if I\nhadn't heard you bray, and seen your ears sticking out.\"\n\nSo there are some men who make themselves appear very fine outwardly,\nbut are betrayed as soon as they begin to talk.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TORTOISE AND THE HARE\n\n\n\"What a dull, heavy creature,\" says the Hare, \"is this Tortoise!\" \"And\nyet,\" says the Tortoise, \"I'll run with you for a wager.\" \"Done,\" says\nthe Hare, and then they asked the Fox to be the judge. They started\ntogether, and the Tortoise kept jogging on still, till he came to the\nend of the course. The Hare laid himself down midway and took a nap;\n\"for,\" says he, \"I can catch up with the Tortoise when I please.\" But\nit seems he overslept himself, for when he came to wake, though he\nscudded away as fast as possible, the Tortoise had got to the post\nbefore him and won the wager.\n\nSlow and steady wins the race.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE VAIN JACKDAW\n\n\nA jackdaw picked up some beautiful feathers left by the peacocks on\nthe ground. He stuck them into his own tail, and, thinking himself\ntoo fine to mix with the other daws, strutted off to the peacocks,\nexpecting to be welcomed as one of themselves.\n\nThe peacocks at once saw through his disguise, and, despising him\nfor his foolishness and conceit, began to peck him, and soon he was\nstripped of all his borrowed plumes.\n\nVery much ashamed, the jackdaw went sadly home, meaning to join his\nold friends as if nothing had happened. But they, remembering how he\nhad scorned them before, chased him away and would have nothing to do\nwith him.\n\n\"If you had been content,\" said one, \"to remain as nature made you,\ninstead of trying to be what you are not, you would have neither been\npunished by your betters nor despised by your equals.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX WITHOUT A TAIL\n\nA fox lost his tail in escaping from a steel trap. When he began to\ngo about again, he found that every one looked down upon or laughed at\nhim. Not liking this, he thought to himself that if he could persuade\nthe other foxes to cut off their tails, his own loss would not be so\nnoticeable.\n\nAccordingly he called together the foxes and said: \"How is it that you\nstill wear your tails? Of what use are they? They are in the way, they\noften get caught in traps, they are heavy to carry and not pretty to\nlook upon. Believe me, we are far better without them. Cut off your\ntails, my friends, and you will see how much more comfortable it is.\nI for my part have never enjoyed myself so much nor found life so\npleasant as I have since I lost mine.\"\n\nUpon this, a sly old fox, seeing through the trick, cried, \"It seems\nto me, my friend, that you would not be so anxious for us to cut off\nour tails, if you had not already lost yours.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING\n\nA wolf put on the skin of a sheep, and getting in among the flock by\nmeans of this disguise, killed many of the sheep. The shepherd, who\nwondered why so many of his flock had disappeared, at last discovered\nthe deceit. He fastened a rope cunningly round the pretended sheep's\nneck, led him to a tree, and there hanged him.\n\nSome other shepherds passing that way and seeing what they thought was\na sheep hanging from a tree, said, \"What, brother! Surely you do not\nhang sheep?\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the shepherd, \"but I hang wolves when I catch them\ndressed up in sheep's skins!\"\n\nThen he showed them their mistake, and they praised the justice of the\ndeed he had done.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE CROW AND THE PITCHER\n\n\nA crow, whose throat was parched and dry with thirst, saw a pitcher in\nthe distance. In great joy he flew to it, but found that it held only\na little water, and even that was too near the bottom to be reached,\nfor all his stooping and straining. Next he tried to overturn the\npitcher, thinking that he would at least be able to catch some of the\nwater as it trickled out. But this he was not strong enough to do. In\nthe end he found some pebbles lying near, and by dropping them one by\none into the pitcher, he managed at last to raise the water up to the\nvery brim, and thus was able to quench his thirst.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN, HIS SON, AND HIS ASS\n\n\nA man and his son were leading their ass to market. A girl, seeing\nthem, cried, \"Why walk when you can ride?\" On hearing this, the man\nset his son upon the ass.\n\nGoing further, they heard an old man say, \"Shame for the young to ride\nwhile old people walk!\" Thereupon the man made his son get down and\nrode himself.\n\nPresently they met some women who cried, \"Look at the poor tired son\nand lazy father!\" Hearing this, the man took his son up beside him and\nso they rode into the town.\n\nThere a young man called to them, \"Two men on one beast! It seems to\nme you are more fit to carry the ass than he is to carry you.\"\n\nThen they got down, tied the beast's legs to a pole, and carried him\nthus till they came to a bridge. As they went, the children shouted so\nloudly that the ass took fright--kicked his legs free, and jumped over\nthe bridge into the river.\n\nThus having lost his ass, the man went home, crying, \"Try to please\neverybody and you will please nobody, not even yourself!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFABLES OF INDIA\n\nADAPTED BY P. V. RAMASWAMI RAJU\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE CAMEL AND THE PIG\n\n\nA camel said, \"Nothing like being tall! See how tall I am.\" A pig who\nheard these words said, \"Nothing like being short; see how short I\nam!\"\n\nThe camel said, \"Well, if I fail to prove the truth of what I said, I\nwill give you my hump.\"\n\nThe pig said, \"If I fail to prove the truth of what I have said, I\nwill give up my snout.\"\n\n\"Agreed!\" said the camel.\n\n\"Just so!\" said the pig.\n\nThey came to a garden inclosed by a low wall without any opening. The\ncamel stood on this side the wall, and, reaching the plants within\nby means of his long neck, made a breakfast on them. Then he turned\njeeringly to the pig, who had been standing at the bottom of the wall,\nwithout even having a look at the good things in the garden, and said,\n\"Now, would you be tall or short?\"\n\nNext they came to a garden inclosed by a high wall, with a wicket gate\nat one end. The pig entered by the gate, and, after having eaten his\nfill of the vegetables within, came out, laughing at the poor camel,\nwho had had to stay outside, because he was too tall to enter the\ngarden by the gate, and said, \"Now, would you be tall or short?\"\n\nThen they thought the matter over, and came to the conclusion that the\ncamel should keep his hump and the pig his snout, observing:\n\n \"Tall is good, where tall would do;\n Of short, again, 't is also true!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN AND HIS PIECE OF CLOTH\n\n\nA man in the East, where they do not require as much clothing as in\ncolder climates, gave up all worldly concerns and retired to a wood,\nwhere he built a hut and lived in it.\n\nHis only clothing was a piece of cloth which he wore round his waist.\nBut, as ill-luck would have it, rats were plentiful in the wood, so he\nhad to keep a cat. The cat required milk to keep it, so a cow had to\nbe kept. The cow required tending, so a cow-boy was employed. The boy\nrequired a house to live in, so a house was built for him. To look\nafter the house a maid had to be engaged. To provide company for the\nmaid a few more houses had to be built, and people invited to live in\nthem. In this manner a little township sprang up.\n\nThe man said, \"_The further we seek to go from the world and its\ncares, the more they multiply_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEA, THE FOX, AND THE WOLF\n\n\nA fox that lived by the seashore once met a wolf that had never seen\nthe sea. The wolf said, \"What is the sea?\"\n\n\"It is a great piece of water by my dwelling,\" said the fox.\n\n\"Is it under your control?\" asked the wolf.\n\n\"Certainly,\" said the fox.\n\n\"Will you show me the sea, then?\" said the wolf.\n\n\"With pleasure,\" said the fox. So the fox led the wolf to the sea, and\nsaid to the waves, \"Now go back,\"--they went back. \"Now come up,\"--and\nthey came up! Then the fox said to the waves, \"My friend, the wolf,\nhas come to see you, so you will come up and go back till I bid you\nstop;\" and the wolf saw, with wonder, the waves coming up and going\nback.\n\nHe said to the fox, \"May I go into the sea?\"\n\n\"As far as you like. Don't be afraid, for, at a word, the sea would go\nor come as I bid, and as you have already seen.\"\n\nThe wolf believed the fox, and followed the waves rather far from the\nshore. A great wave soon upset him, and threw up his carcass on the\nshore. The fox made a hearty breakfast on it, saying, \"_The fool's ear\nwas made for the knave's tongue_.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIRDS AND THE LIME\n\n\nA fowler in the East once went to a wood, scattered some grain on the\nground, spread a net over it with some lime in it, and was watching\nfrom a distance to see what luck would attend his efforts.\n\nA great many birds assembled on the trees around the net, and said,\n\"What fine corn that is! We can seldom hope to get anything like it.\"\n\nAn owl that was close by said, \"How nice that white thing in the net\nis!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" said the birds.\n\n\"Why, it is our best friend in the world; it is lime. When it holds us\nin its embrace, we can never hope to get away.\"\n\nThe birds left the place at once. Said the fowler, \"_A clever bird\nknows the lime_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAVEN AND THE CATTLE\n\n\nOne evening, as some cattle were wending their way home, a raven rode\non the horns of a bull in the herd; and as he approached the cottage,\ncried to the farmer, \"Friend, my work for the day is over; you may now\ntake charge of your cattle.\"\n\n\"What was your work?\" asked the farmer.\n\n\"Why,\" said the raven, \"the arduous task of watching these cattle and\nbringing them home.\"\n\n\"Am I to understand you have been doing all the work for me?\" said the\nfarmer.\n\n\"Certainly,\" said the raven, and flew away with a laugh.\n\nQuoth the farmer with surprise, \"_How many there are that take credit\nfor things which they have never done_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTINSEL AND LIGHTNING\n\n\nA piece of tinsel on a rock once said to a pebble, \"You see how bright\nI am! I am by birth related to the lightning.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said the pebble; \"then accept my humble respects.\"\n\nSome time after, a flash of lightning struck the rock, and the tinsel\nlost all its brilliancy by the scorching effects of the flash.\n\n\"Where is your brilliancy now?\" said the pebble.\n\n\"Oh, it is gone to the skies,\" said the tinsel, \"for I have lent it to\nthe lightning that came down a moment ago to borrow it of me.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" said the pebble; \"_how many fibs doth good bragging need_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASS AND THE WATCH-DOG\n\n\nA watch-dog in a village was barking all night to keep thieves off\nfrom his master's house. An ass, who observed this, thought that the\ndog amused himself by barking. So he brayed all night. When the\nday dawned, the owner of the ass thought the poor animal had been\nsuffering from some disorder. Therefore he sent for the village\ndoctor, and laid the case before him.\n\nThe doctor examined the animal closely, and said, \"Friend, you must\nbrand this ass forthwith, else he will soon go into fits and die.\"\n\nThe ass said, \"I assure you nothing is wrong with me; I simply amused\nmyself last night.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said the inexorable leech; \"I know what the wily brute\nmeans. He would rather die, and make you the loser, than be branded\nand recover his health.\"\n\nSo they bound the ass with ropes, and branded him all over with\nred-hot irons. Some time after the ass moved out to see how the\nvillage had fared during his illness. The dog asked why he had been\nbranded. The ass narrated the story. Quoth the dog, \"_He that\nmistakes work for amusement must pay for his error_.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LARK AND ITS YOUNG ONES\n\n\nA child went up to a lark, and said, \"Good lark, have you any young\nones?\"\n\n\"Yes, child, I have,\" said the lark; \"and they are very pretty ones\nindeed!\" Then she pointed to them, and said, \"This is Fair Wing, that\nis Tiny Bill, and that other is Bright Eye.\"\n\nThe child said, \"Yes, at home, we are three--myself and my two\nsisters, Jane and Alice; and mamma says we are pretty little children,\nand that she is very fond of us.\"\n\nTo this the little larks replied, \"Oh yes, mamma is very fond of us\ntoo.\"\n\nThen the child said, \"Good lark, will you send home Tiny Bill to play\nwith me?\" Before the lark could reply, Bright Eye said, \"Yes, if you\nwill send little Alice to play with us in our nest.\"\n\nThe child said, \"Oh, Alice will be so sorry to leave home, and come\naway from mamma!\"\n\nBright. Eye said, \"Tiny Bill will be so sorry to leave our nest, and\ngo away from mamma!\"\n\nThe child was abashed, and went home, saying, \"_Ah, every one is fond\nof home_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO GEMS\n\n\nA despot in the East once said to his fawning courtiers, \"He that goes\nround my kingdom in the shortest possible time shall have one of these\ntwo gems.\"\n\nA courtier went round the King, and said, \"Sire, may I have the prize?\"\n\n\"How so?\" said the King.\n\n\"Why, you are the kingdom, are you not?\" said the courtier.\n\nThe despot was so well pleased with the courtier that he gave him both\nthe gems.\n\nThe other courtiers said, in a whisper, \"_Flatterers prey upon fools_.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nSCANDINAVIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nTHE HARDY TIN SOLDIER\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nThere were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers; they were all brothers,\nfor they had all been born of one old tin spoon. They shouldered their\nmuskets, and looked straight before them; their uniform was red and\nblue, and very splendid. The first thing they had heard in the\nworld, when the lid was taken off their box, had been the words \"Tin\nsoldiers!\" These words were uttered by a little boy, clapping his\nhands: the soldiers had been given to him, for it was his birthday;\nand now he put them upon the table. Each soldier was exactly like the\nrest; but one of them had been cast last of all, and there had not\nbeen enough tin to finish him; but he stood as firmly upon his one leg\nas the others on their two; and it was just this Soldier who became\nremarkable.\n\nOn the table on which they had been placed stood many other\nplaythings, but the toy that attracted most attention was a neat\ncastle of cardboard. Through the little windows one could see straight\ninto the hall. Before the castle some little trees were placed round a\nlittle looking-glass, which was to represent a clear lake. Waxen swans\nswam on this lake, and were mirrored in it. This was all very pretty;\nbut the prettiest of all was a little lady, who stood at the open door\nof the castle; she was also cut out in paper, but she had a dress\nof the clearest gauze, and a little narrow blue ribbon over her\nshoulders, that looked like a scarf; and in the middle of this ribbon\nwas a shining tinsel rose as big as her whole face. The little lady\nstretched out both her arms, for she was a dancer; and then she lifted\none leg so high that the Tin Soldier could not see it at all, and\nthought that, like himself, she had but one leg.\n\n\"That would be the wife for me,\" thought he; \"but she is very\ngrand. She lives in a castle, and I have only a box, and there are\nfive-and-twenty of us in that. It is no place for her. But I must try\nto make acquaintance with her.\"\n\nAnd then he lay down at full length behind a snuff-box which was on\nthe table; there he could easily watch the little dainty lady, who\ncontinued to stand upon one leg without losing her balance.\n\nWhen the evening came all the other tin soldiers were put into their\nbox, and the people in the house went to bed. Now the toys began to\nplay at \"visiting,\" and at \"war,\" and \"giving balls.\" The tin soldiers\nrattled in their box, for they wanted to join, but could not lift the\nlid. The nutcracker threw somersaults, and the pencil amused itself on\nthe table: there was so much noise that the canary woke up, and began\nto speak too, and even in verse. The only two who did not stir from\ntheir places were the Tin Soldier and the Dancing Lady: she stood\nstraight up on the point of one of her toes, and stretched out both\nher arms; and he was just as enduring on his one leg; and he never\nturned his eyes away from her.\n\nNow the clock struck twelve--and, bounce! the lid flew off the\nsnuff-box; but there was no snuff in it, but a little black Goblin:\nyou see, it was a trick.\n\n\"Tin Soldier!\" said the Goblin, \"don't stare at things that don't\nconcern you.\"\n\nBut the Tin Soldier pretended not to hear him.\n\n\"Just you wait till to-morrow!\" said the Goblin.\n\nBut when the morning came, and the children got up, the Tin Soldier\nwas placed in the window; and whether it was the Goblin or the draught\nthat did it, all at once the window flew open, and the Soldier fell\nhead over heels out of the third story. That was a terrible passage!\nHe put his leg straight up, and stuck with helmet downward and his\nbayonet between the paving-stones.\n\nThe servant-maid and the little boy came down directly to look for him,\nbut though they almost trod upon him, they could not see him. If the\nSoldier had cried out \"Here I am!\" they would have found him; but he\ndid not think it fitting to call out loudly, because he was in uniform.\n\nNow it began to rain; the drops soon fell thicker, and at last it came\ndown into a complete stream. When the rain was past, two street boys\ncame by.\n\n\"Just look!\" said one of them: \"there lies a Tin Soldier. He must come\nout and ride in the boat.\"\n\nAnd they made a boat out of a newspaper, and put the Tin Soldier in\nthe middle of it, and so he sailed down the gutter, and the two boys\nran beside him and clapped their hands. Goodness preserve us! how the\nwaves rose in that gutter, and how fast the stream ran! But then\nit had been a heavy rain. The paper boat rocked up and down, and\nsometimes turned round so rapidly that the Tin Soldier trembled; but\nhe remained firm, and never changed countenance, and looked straight\nbefore him, and shouldered his musket.\n\nAll at once the boat went into a long drain, and it became as dark as\nif he had been in his box.\n\n\"Where am I going now?\" he thought. \"Yes, yes, that's the Goblin's\nfault. Ah! if the little lady only sat here with me in the boat, it\nmight be twice as dark for what I should care.\"\n\nSuddenly there came a great Water Rat, which lived under the drain.\n\n\"Have you a passport?\" said the Rat. \"Give me your passport.\"\n\nBut the Tin Soldier kept silence, and held his musket tighter than\never. The boat went on, but the Rat came after it. Hu! how he gnashed\nhis teeth, and called out to the bits of straw and wood.\n\n\"Hold him! hold him! He hasn't paid toll--he hasn't shown his\npassport!\"\n\nBut the stream became stronger and stronger. The Tin Soldier could\nsee the bright daylight where the arch ended; but he heard a roaring\nnoise, which might well frighten a bolder man. Only think--just where\nthe tunnel ended, the drain ran into a great canal; and for him that\nwould have been as dangerous as for us to be carried down a great\nwaterfall.\n\nNow he was already so near it that he could not stop. The boat was\ncarried out, the poor Tin Soldier stiffening himself as much as he\ncould, and no one could say that he moved an eyelid. The boat whirled\nround three or four times, and was full of water to the very edge--it\nmust sink. The Tin Soldier stood up to his neck in water, and the boat\nsank deeper and deeper, and the paper was loosened more and more; and\nnow the water closed over the soldier's head. Then he thought of the\npretty little Dancer, and how he should never see her again; and it\nsounded in the Soldier's ears:\n\n \"Farewell, farewell, thou warrior brave,\n For this day thou must die!\"\n\nAnd now the paper parted, and the Tin Soldier fell out; but at that\nmoment he was snapped up by a great fish.\n\nOh, how dark it was in that fish's body! It was darker yet than in\nthe drain tunnel; and then it was very narrow too. But the Tin Soldier\nremained unmoved, and lay at full length shouldering his musket.\n\nThe fish swam to and fro; he made the most wonderful movements, and\nthen became quite still. At last something flashed through him like\nlightning. The daylight shone quite clear, and a voice said aloud,\n\"The Tin Soldier!\" The fish had been caught, carried to market,\nbought, and taken into the kitchen, where the cook cut him open with a\nlarge knife. She seized the Soldier round the body with both her\nhands and carried him into the room, where all were anxious to see the\nremarkable man who had traveled about in the inside of a fish; but the\nTin Soldier was not at all proud. They placed him on the table,\nand there--no! What curious things may happen in the world. The Tin\nSoldier was in the very room in which he had been before! he saw the\nsame children, and the same toys stood on the table; and there was the\npretty castle with the graceful little Dancer. She was still balancing\nherself on one leg, and held the other extended in the air. She was\nhardy too. That moved the Tin Soldier; he was very nearly weeping tin\ntears, but that would not have been proper. He looked at her, but they\nsaid nothing to each other.\n\nThen one of the little boys took the Tin Soldier and flung him into\nthe stove. He gave no reason for doing this. It must have been the\nfault of the Goblin in the snuff-box.\n\nThe Tin Soldier stood there quite illuminated, and felt a heat that\nwas terrible; but whether this heat proceeded from the real fire or\nfrom love he did not know. The colors had quite gone off from him; but\nwhether that had happened on the journey, or had been caused by grief,\nno one could say. He looked at the little lady, she looked at him, and\nhe felt that he was melting; but he still stood firm, shouldering\nhis musket. Then suddenly the door flew open, and the draught of air\ncaught the Dancer, and she flew like a sylph just into the stove to\nthe Tin Soldier, and flashed up in a flame, and she was gone. Then the\nTin Soldier melted down into a lump; and when the servant-maid took\nthe ashes out next day, she found him in the shape of a little tin\nheart. But of the Dancer nothing remained but the tinsel rose, and\nthat was burned as black as a coal.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIR TREE\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nOut in the forest stood a pretty little Fir Tree. It had a good place;\nit could have sunlight, air there was in plenty, and all around grew\nmany larger comrades--pines as well as firs. But the little Fir Tree\nwished ardently to become greater. It did not care for the warm sun\nand the fresh air; it took no notice of the peasant children, who\nwent about talking together, when they had come out to look for\nstrawberries and raspberries. Often they came with a whole pot-full,\nor had strung berries on a straw; then they would sit down by the\nlittle Fir Tree and say, \"How pretty and small that one is!\" and the\nFir Tree did not like to hear that at all.\n\nNext year he had grown a great joint, and the following year he was\nlonger still, for in fir trees one can always tell by the number of\nrings they have how many years they have been growing.\n\n\"Oh, if I were only as great a tree as the other!\" sighed the little\nFir, \"then I would spread my branches far around, and look out from\nmy crown into the wide world. The birds would then build nests in\nmy boughs, and when the wind blew I could nod just as grandly as the\nothers yonder.\"\n\nIt took no pleasure in the sunshine, in the birds, and in the red\nclouds that went sailing over him morning and evening.\n\nWhen it was winter, and the snow lay all around, white and sparkling,\na hare would often come jumping along, and spring right over the\nlittle Fir Tree. Oh! this made him so angry. But two winters went by,\nand when the third came the little Tree had grown so tall that the\nhare was obliged to run round it.\n\n\"Oh! to grow, to grow, and become old; that's the only fine thing in\nthe world,\" thought the Tree.\n\nIn the autumn woodcutters always came and felled a few of the largest\ntrees; that was done this year too, and the little Fir Tree, that was\nnow quite well grown, shuddered with fear, for the great stately trees\nfell to the ground with a crash, and their branches were cut off,\nso that the trees looked quite naked, long, and slender--they could\nhardly be recognized. But then they were laid upon wagons, and horses\ndragged them away out of the wood. Where were they going? What destiny\nawaited them?\n\nIn the spring, when the Swallows and the Stork came, the Tree asked\nthem, \"Do you know where they were taken? Did you not meet them?\"\n\nThe Swallows knew nothing about it, but the Stork looked thoughtful,\nnodded his head, and said:\n\n\"Yes, I think so. I met many new ships when I flew out of Egypt; on\nthe ships were stately masts; I fancy these were the trees. They smelt\nlike fir. I can assure you they're stately--very stately.\"\n\n\"Oh that I were only big enough to go over the sea! What kind of thing\nis this sea, and how does it look?\"\n\n\"It would take too long to explain all that,\" said the Stork, and he\nwent away.\n\n\"Rejoice in thy youth,\" said the Sunbeams; \"rejoice in thy fresh\ngrowth, and in the young life that is within thee.\"\n\nAnd the Wind kissed the Tree, and the Dew wept tears upon it; but the\nFir Tree did not understand that.\n\nWhen Christmas-time approached, quite young trees were felled,\nsometimes trees which were neither so old nor so large as this Fir\nTree, that never rested, but always wanted to go away. These young\ntrees, which were always the most beautiful, kept all their branches;\nthey were put upon wagons, and horses dragged them away out of the\nwood.\n\n\"Where are they all going?\" asked the Fir Tree. \"They are not greater\nthan I--indeed, one of them was much smaller. Why do they keep all\ntheir branches? Whither are they taken?\"\n\n\"We know that! We know that!\" chirped the Sparrows. \"Yonder in the\ntown we looked in at the windows. We know where they go. Oh! they are\ndressed up in the greatest pomp and splendor that can be imagined.\nWe have looked in at the windows, and have perceived that they are\nplanted in the middle of a warm room, and adorned with the most\nbeautiful things--gilt apples, honey-cakes, playthings, and many\nhundred of candles.\"\n\n\"And then?\" asked the Fir Tree, and trembled through all its branches.\n\"And then? What happens then?\"\n\n\"Why, we have not seen anything more. But it was incomparable.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I may be destined to tread this glorious path one day!\" cried\nthe Fir Tree, rejoicingly. \"That is even better than traveling across\nthe sea. How painfully I long for it! If it were only Christmas now!\nNow I am great and grown up, like the rest who were led away last\nyear. Oh, if I were only on the carriage! If I were only in the warm\nroom, among all the pomp and splendor! And then? Yes, then something\neven better will come, something far more charming, or else why should\nthey adorn me so? There must be something grander, something greater\nstill to come; but what? Oh! I'm suffering, I'm longing! I don't know\nmyself what is the matter with me!\"\n\n\"Rejoice in us,\" said Air and Sunshine. \"Rejoice in thy fresh youth\nhere in the woodland.\"\n\nBut the Fir Tree did not rejoice at all, but it grew and grew; winter\nand summer it stood there, green, dark green. The people who saw it\nsaid, \"That's a handsome tree!\" and at Christmas time it was felled\nbefore any one of the others. The axe cut deep into its marrow, and\nthe tree fell to the ground with a sigh; it felt a pain, a sensation\nof faintness, and could not think at all of happiness, for it was sad\nat parting from its home, from the place where it had grown up; it\nknew that it should never again see the dear old companions, the\nlittle bushes and flowers all around--perhaps not even the birds. The\nparting was not at all agreeable.\n\nThe Tree only came to itself when it was unloaded in a yard, with\nother trees, and heard a man say:\n\n\"This one is famous; we only want this one!\"\n\nNow two servants came in gay liveries, and carried the Fir Tree into\na large, beautiful parlor. All around the walls hung pictures, and by\nthe great stove stood large Chinese vases with lions on the covers;\nthere were rocking-chairs, silken sofas, great tables covered with\npicture books, and toys worth a hundred times a hundred dollars, at\nleast the children said so. And the Fir Tree was put into a great tub\nfilled with sand; but no one could see that it was a tub, for it\nwas hung round with green cloth, and stood on a large, many-colored\ncarpet. Oh, how the Tree trembled! What was to happen now? The\nservants, and the young ladies also, decked it out. On one branch they\nhung little nets, cut out of colored paper; every net was filled\nwith sweetmeats; golden apples and walnuts hung down, as if they grew\nthere, and more than a hundred little candles, red, white, and blue,\nwere fastened to the different boughs. Dolls that looked exactly like\nreal people--the tree had never seen such before--swung among the\nfoliage, and high on the summit of the tree was fixed a tinsel star.\nIt was splendid, particularly splendid.\n\n\"This evening,\" said all, \"this evening it will shine.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" thought the Tree, \"that it were evening already! Oh, that the\nlights may be soon lit up! When may that be done? I wonder if trees\nwill come out of the forest to look at me? Will the sparrows fly\nagainst the panes? Shall I grow fast here, and stand adorned in\nsummer and winter?\"\n\nYes, he did not guess badly. But he had a complete backache from\nmere longing, and the backache is just as bad for a Tree as the\nheadache for a person.\n\nAt last the candles were lighted. What a brilliance, what splendor!\nThe Tree trembled so in all its branches that one of the candles set\nfire to a green twig, and it was scorched.\n\n\"Heaven preserve us!\" cried the young ladies; and they hastily put the\nfire out.\n\nNow the Tree might not even tremble. Oh, that was terrible! It was\nso afraid of setting fire to some of its ornaments, and it was quite\nbewildered with all the brilliance. And now the folding doors were\nthrown open, and a number of children rushed in as if they would\nhave overturned the whole Tree; the older people followed more\ndeliberately. The little ones stood quite silent, but only for a\nminute; then they shouted till the room rang: they danced gleefully\nround the Tree, and one present after another was plucked from it.\n\n\"What are they about?\" thought the Tree. \"What's going to be done?\"\n\nAnd the candles burned down to the twigs, and as they burned down\nthey were extinguished, and then the children received permission to\nplunder the Tree. Oh! they rushed in upon it, so that every branch\ncracked again: if it had not been fastened by the top and by the\ngolden star to the ceiling, it would have fallen down.\n\nThe children danced about with their pretty toys. No one looked at the\nTree except one old man, who came up and peeped among the branches,\nbut only to see if a fig or an apple had been forgotten.\n\n\"A story! A story!\" shouted the children; and they drew a little fat\nman toward the tree; and he sat down just beneath it--\"for then we\nshall be in the green wood,\" said he, \"and the tree may have the\nadvantage of listening to my tale. But I can only tell one. Will\nyou hear the story of Ivede-Avede, or of Klumpey-Dumpey, who\nfell downstairs, and still was raised up to honor and married the\nPrincess?\"\n\n\"Ivede-Avede!\" cried some, \"Klumpey-Dumpey!\" cried others, and there\nwas a great crying and shouting. Only the Fir Tree was quite silent,\nand thought, \"Shall I not be in it? Shall I have nothing to do in\nit?\" But he had been in the evening's amusement, and had done what was\nrequired of him.\n\nAnd the fat man told about Klumpey-Dumpey who fell downstairs, and yet\nwas raised to honor and married the Princess. And the children clapped\ntheir hands, and cried, \"Tell another! tell another!\" for they\nwanted to hear about Ivede-Avede; but they only got the story of\nKlumpey-Dumpey. The Fir Tree stood quite silent and thoughtful; never\nhad the birds in the wood told such a story as that. Klumpey-Dumpey\nfell downstairs and yet came to honor and married the Princess!\n\n\"Yes, so it happens in the world!\" thought the Fir Tree, and believed\nit must be true, because that was such a nice man who told it. \"Well,\nwho can know? Perhaps I shall fall downstairs, too, and marry a\nPrincess!\" And it looked forward with pleasure to being adorned again,\nthe next evening, with candles and toys, gold and fruit. \"To-morrow I\nshall not tremble,\" it thought.\n\n\"I will rejoice in all my splendor. To-morrow I shall hear the story\nof Klumpey-Dumpey again, and perhaps that of Ivede-Avede, too.\"\n\nAnd the Tree stood all night quiet and thoughtful.\n\nIn the morning the servants and the chambermaid came in.\n\n\"Now my splendor will begin afresh,\" thought the Tree. But they\ndragged him out of the room, and upstairs to the garret, and here they\nput him in a dark corner where no daylight shone.\n\n\"What's the meaning of this?\" thought the Tree. \"What am I to do here?\nWhat is to happen?\"\n\nAnd he leaned against the wall, and thought, and thought. And he had\ntime enough, for days and nights went by, and nobody came up; and\nwhen at length some one came, it was only to put some great boxes in\na corner. Now the Tree stood quite hidden away, and the supposition is\nthat it was quite forgotten.\n\n\"Now it's winter outside,\" thought the Tree. \"The earth is hard and\ncovered with snow, and people cannot plant me; therefore I suppose I'm\nto be sheltered here until spring comes. How considerate that is! How\ngood people are! If it were only not so dark here, and so terribly\nsolitary!--not even a little hare? That was pretty out there in the\nwood, when the snow lay thick and the hare sprang past; yes, even when\nhe jumped over me; but then I did not like it. It is terribly lonely\nup here!\"\n\n\"Piep! piep!\" said a little Mouse, and crept forward, and then came\nanother little one. They smelt at the Fir Tree, and then slipped among\nthe branches.\n\n\"It's horribly cold,\" said the two little Mice, \"or else it would be\ncomfortable here. Don't you think so, you old Fir Tree?\"\n\n\"I'm not old at all,\" said the Fir Tree. \"There are many much older\nthan I.\"\n\n\"Where do you come from?\" asked the Mice. \"And what do you know?\" They\nwere dreadfully inquisitive. \"Tell us about the most beautiful spot\non earth. Have you been there? Have you been in the store room, where\ncheeses lie on the shelves, and hams hang from the ceiling, where one\ndances on tallow candles, and goes in thin and comes out fat?\"\n\n\"I don't know that,\" replied the Tree; \"but I know the wood, where the\nsun shines and the birds sing.\"\n\nAnd then it told all about its youth.\n\nAnd the little Mice had never heard anything of the kind; and they\nlistened and said:\n\n\"What a number of things you have seen! How happy you must have been!\"\n\n\"I?\" replied the Fir Tree; and it thought about what it had told.\n\"Yes, those were really quite happy times.\" But then he told of the\nChristmas Eve, when he had been hung with sweetmeats and candles.\n\n\"Oh!\" said the little Mice, \"how happy you have been, you old Fir\nTree!\"\n\n\"I'm not old at all,\" said the Tree. \"I only came out of the wood this\nwinter. I'm only rather backward in my growth.\"\n\n\"What splendid stories you can tell!\" said the little Mice.\n\nAnd next night they came with four other little Mice, to hear what\nthe Tree had to relate; and the more it said, the more clearly did it\nremember everything, and thought, \"Those were quite merry days! But\nthey may come again. Klumpey-Dumpey fell downstairs and yet he married\nthe Princess. Perhaps I may marry a Princess too?\" And then the\nFir Tree thought of a pretty little Birch Tree that grew out in the\nforest: for the Fir Tree, that Birch was a real Princess.\n\n\"Who's Klumpey-Dumpey?\" asked the little Mice.\n\nAnd then the Fir Tree told the whole story. It could remember every\nsingle word; and the little Mice were ready to leap to the very top of\nthe tree with pleasure. Next night a great many more Mice came, and\non Sunday two Rats even appeared; but these thought the story was not\npretty, and the little Mice were sorry for that, for now they also did\nnot like it so much as before.\n\n\"Do you only know one story?\" asked the Rats.\n\n\"Only that one,\" replied the Tree. \"I heard that on the happiest\nevening of my life; I did not think then how happy I was.\"\n\n\"That's a very miserable story. Don't you know any about bacon and\ntallow candles--a store-room story?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Tree.\n\n\"Then we'd rather not hear you,\" said the Rats.\n\nAnd they went back to their own people. The little Mice at last stayed\naway also; and then the Tree sighed and said:\n\n\"It was very nice when they sat round me, the merry little Mice,\nand listened when I spoke to them. Now that's past too. But I shall\nremember to be pleased when they take me out.\"\n\nBut when did that happen? Why, it was one morning that people came and\nrummaged in the garret; the boxes were put away, and the Tree brought\nout; they certainly threw him rather roughly on the floor, but a\nservant dragged him away at once to the stairs, where the daylight\nshone.\n\n\"Now life is beginning again!\" thought the Tree.\n\nIt felt the fresh air and the first sunbeams, and now it was out in\nthe courtyard. Everything passed so quickly that the Tree quite\nforgot to look at itself, there was so much to look at all round. The\ncourtyard was close to a garden, and here everything was blooming; the\nroses hung fresh and fragrant over the little paling, the linden trees\nwere in blossom, and the swallows cried, \"Quinze-wit! quinze-wit! my\nhusband's come!\" But it was not the Fir Tree that they meant.\n\n\"Now I shall live!\" said the Tree, rejoicingly, and spread its\nbranches far out; but, alas! they were all withered and yellow; and it\nlay in the corner among nettles and weeds. The tinsel star was still\nupon it, and shone in the bright sunshine.\n\nIn the courtyard a couple of the merry children were playing who had\ndanced round the tree at Christmas time, and had rejoiced over it. One\nof the youngest ran up and tore off the golden star.\n\n\"Look what is sticking to the ugly old fir tree!\" said the child, and\nhe trod upon the branches till they cracked again under his boots.\n\nAnd the Tree looked at all the blooming flowers and the splendor of\nthe garden, and then looked at itself, and wished it had remained in\nthe dark corner of the garret; it thought of its fresh youth in the\nwood, of the merry Christmas Eve, and of the little Mice which had\nlistened so pleasantly to the story of Klumpey-Dumpey.\n\n\"Past! past!\" said the old Tree. \"Had I but rejoiced when I could have\ndone so! Past! past!\"\n\nAnd the servant came and chopped the Tree into little pieces; a whole\nbundle lay there; it blazed brightly under the great brewing kettle,\nand it sighed deeply, and each sigh was like a little shot; and the\nchildren who were at play there ran up and seated themselves at the\nfire, looked into it, and cried \"Puff! puff!\" But at each explosion,\nwhich was a deep sigh, the Tree thought of a summer day in the woods,\nor of a winter night there, when the stars beamed; he thought of\nChristmas Eve and of Klumpey-Dumpey, the only story he had ever heard\nor knew how to tell; and then the Tree was burned.\n\nThe boys played in the garden, and the youngest had on his breast a\ngolden star, which the Tree had worn on its happiest evening. Now that\nwas past, and the Tree's life was past, and the story is past too:\npast! past!--and that's the way with all stories.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DARNING-NEEDLE\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nThere was once a Darning-needle, who thought herself so fine, she\nimagined she was an embroidering-needle.\n\n\"Take care, and mind you hold me tight!\" she said to the Fingers that\ntook her out. \"Don't let me fall! If I fall on the ground I shall\ncertainly never be found again, for I am so fine!\"\n\n\"That's as it may be,\" said the Fingers; and they grasped her round\nthe body.\n\n\"See, I'm coming with a train!\" said the Darning-needle, and she drew\na long thread after her, but there was no knot in the thread.\n\nThe Fingers pointed the needle just at the cook's slipper, in which\nthe upper leather had burst, and was to be sewn together.\n\n\"That's vulgar work,\" said the Darning-needle. \"I shall never get\nthrough. I'm breaking! I'm breaking!\" And she really broke. \"Did I not\nsay so?\" said the Darning-needle; \"I'm too fine!\"\n\n\"Now it's quite useless,\" said the Fingers; but they were obliged to\nhold her fast, all the same; for the cook dropped some sealing-wax\nupon the needle, and pinned her handkerchief together with it in\nfront.\n\n\"So, now I'm a breast-pin!\" said the Darning-needle. \"I knew very\nwell that I should come to honor; when one is something, one comes to\nsomething!\"\n\nAnd she laughed quietly to herself--and one can never see when a\ndarning-needle laughs. There she sat, as proud as if she were in a\nstate coach, and looked all about her.\n\n\"May I be permitted to ask if you are of gold?\" she inquired of the\npin, her neighbor. \"You have a very pretty appearance and a peculiar\nhead, but it is only little. You must take pains to grow, for it's not\nevery one that has sealing-wax dropped upon him.\"\n\nAnd the Darning-needle drew herself up so proudly that she fell out of\nthe handkerchief right into the sink, which the cook was rinsing out.\n\n\"Now we're going on a journey,\" said the Darning-needle. \"If I only\ndon't get lost!\"\n\nBut she really was lost.\n\n\"I'm too fine for this world,\" she observed, as she lay in the gutter.\n\"But I know who I am, and there's always something in that!\"\n\nSo the Darning-needle kept her proud behavior, and did not lose her\ngood humor. And things of many kinds swam over her, chips and straws\nand pieces of old newspapers.\n\n\"Only look how they sail!\" said the Darning-needle. \"They don't know\nwhat is under them! I'm here, I remain firmly here. See, there goes\na chip thinking of nothing in the world but of himself--of a chip!\nThere's a straw going by now. How he turns! how he twirls about! Don't\nthink only of yourself, you might easily run up against a stone.\nThere swims a bit of newspaper. What's written upon it has long been\nforgotten, and yet it gives itself airs. I sit quietly and patiently\nhere. I know who I am, and I shall remain what I am.\"\n\nOne day something lay close beside her that glittered splendidly; then\nthe Darning-needle believed that it was a diamond; but it was a bit\nof broken bottle; and because it shone the Darning-needle spoke to it,\nintroducing herself as a breastpin.\n\n\"I suppose you are a diamond?\" she observed.\n\n\"Why, yes, something of that kind.\"\n\nAnd then each believed the other to be a very valuable thing; and they\nbegan speaking about the world, and how very conceited it was.\n\n\"I have been in a lady's box,\" said the Darning-needle, \"and this\nlady was a cook. She had five fingers on each hand, and I never saw\nanything so conceited as those five fingers. And yet they were only\nthere that they might take me out of the box and put me back into it.\"\n\n\"Were they of good birth?\" asked the Bit of Bottle.\n\n\"No, indeed,\" replied the Darning-needle: \"but very haughty. There\nwere five brothers, all of the finger family. They kept very proudly\ntogether though they were of different lengths: the outermost, the\nthumbling, was short and fat; he walked out in front of the ranks, and\nonly had one joint in his back, and could only make a single bow; but\nhe said that if he were hacked off a man, that man was useless for\nservice in war. Dainty-mouth, the second finger, thrust himself into\nsweet and sour, pointed to sun and moon, and gave the impression when\nthey wrote. Longman, the third, looked at all the others over his\nshoulder. Goldborder, the fourth, went about with a golden belt round\nhis waist; and little Playman did nothing at all, and was proud of it.\nThere was nothing but bragging among them, and therefore I went away.\"\n\n\"And now we sit here and glitter!\" said the Bit of Bottle.\n\nAt that moment more water came into the gutter, so that it overflowed,\nand the Bit of Bottle was carried away.\n\n\"So he is disposed of,\" observed the Darning-needle. \"I remain here.\nI am too fine. But that's my pride, and my pride is honorable.\" And\nproudly she sat there, and had many great thoughts. \"I could almost\nbelieve I had been born of a sunbeam, I'm so fine! It really appears\nas if the sunbeams were always seeking for me under the water. Ah!\nI'm so fine that my mother cannot find me. If I had my old eye, which\nbroke off, I think I should cry; but, no, I should not do that; it's\nnot genteel to cry.\"\n\nOne day a couple of street boys lay grubbing in the gutter, where they\nsometimes found old nails, farthings, and similar treasures. It was\ndirty work, but they took great delight in it.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried one, who had pricked himself with the Darning-needle,\n\"there's a fellow for you!\"\n\n\"I'm not a fellow; I'm a young lady!\" said the Darning-needle.\n\nBut nobody listened to her. The sealing-wax had come off, and she\nhad turned black; but black makes one look slender, and she thought\nherself finer even than before.\n\n\"Here comes an eggshell sailing along!\" said the boys; and they stuck\nthe Darning-needle fast in the eggshell.\n\n\"White walls, and black myself! that looks well,\" remarked the\nDarning-needle. \"Now one can see me. I only hope I shall not be\nseasick!\" But she was not seasick at all. \"It is good against\nseasickness, if one has a steel stomach, and does not forget that one\nis a little more than an ordinary person! Now my seasickness is over.\nThe finer one is, the more one can bear.\"\n\n\"Crack!\" went the eggshell, for a wagon went over her.\n\n\"Good Heavens, how it crushes one!\" said the Darning-needle. \"I'm\ngetting seasick now--I'm quite sick.\"\n\nBut she was not really sick, though the wagon went over her; she lay\nthere at full length, and there she may lie.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHUMBELINA\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nShe had a little house of her own, a little garden too, this woman of\nwhom I am going to tell you, but for all that she was not quite happy.\n\n\"If only I had a little child of my own,\" she said, \"how the walls\nwould ring with her laughter, and how the flowers would brighten at\nher coming. Then, indeed, I should be quite happy.\"\n\nAnd an old witch heard what the woman wished, and said, \"Oh, but that\nis easily managed. Here is a barley-corn. Plant it in a flower-pot and\ntend it carefully, and then you will see what will happen.\"\n\nThe woman was in a great hurry to go home and plant the barley-corn,\nbut she did not forget to say \"thank you\" to the old witch. She not\nonly thanked her, she even stayed to give her six silver pennies.\n\nThen she hurried away to her home, took a flower-pot and planted her\nprecious barley-corn.\n\nAnd what do you think happened? Almost before the corn was planted, up\nshot a large and beautiful flower. It was still unopened. The petals\nwere folded closely together, but it looked like a tulip. It really\nwas a tulip, a red and yellow one, too.\n\nThe woman loved flowers. She stooped and kissed the beautiful bud.\nAs her lips touched the petals, they burst open, and oh! wonder of\nwonders! there, in the very middle of the flower, there sat a little\nchild. Such a tiny, pretty little maiden she was.\n\nThey called her Thumbelina. That was because she was no bigger than\nthe woman's thumb.\n\nAnd where do you think she slept? A little walnut shell, lined with\nblue, that was her cradle.\n\nWhen she slept little Thumbelina lay in her cradle on a tiny heap of\nviolets, with the petal of a pale pink rose to cover her.\n\nAnd where do you think she played? A table was her playground. On the\ntable the woman placed a plate of water. Little Thumbelina called that\nher lake.\n\nRound the plate were scented flowers, the blossoms lying on the edge,\nwhile the pale green stalks reached thirstily down to the water.\n\nIn the lake floated a large tulip leaf. This was Thumbelina's little\nboat. Seated there she sailed from side to side of her little lake,\nrowing cleverly with two white horse hairs. As she rowed backwards and\nforwards she sang softly to herself. The woman listening heard, and\nthought she had never known so sweet a song.\n\nAnd now such a sad thing happened.\n\nIn through the broken window-pane hopped a big toad, oh! such an\nugly big toad. She hopped right on to the table, where Thumbelina lay\ndreaming in her tiny cradle, under the pale pink rose leaf.\n\nShe peeped at her, this ugly old toad.\n\n\"How beautiful the little maiden is,\" she croaked. \"She will make a\nlovely bride for my handsome son.\" And she lifted the little cradle,\nwith Thumbelina in it, and hopped out through the broken window-pane,\ndown into the garden.\n\nAt the foot of the garden was a broad stream. Here, under the muddy\nbanks lived the old toad with her son.\n\nHow handsome she thought him! But he was really very ugly. Indeed, he\nwas exactly like his mother.\n\nWhen he saw little Thumbelina in her tiny cradle, he croaked with\ndelight.\n\n\"Do not make so much noise,\" said his mother, \"or you will wake the\ntiny creature. We may lose her if we are not careful. The slightest\nbreeze would waft her far away. She is as light as gossamer.\"\n\nThen the old toad carried Thumbelina out into the middle of the\nstream. \"She will be safe here,\" she said, as she laid her gently on\none of the leaves of a large water lily, and paddled back to her son.\n\n\"We will make ready the best rooms under the mud,\" she told him, \"and\nthen you and the little maiden will be married.\"\n\nPoor little Thumbelina! She had not seen the ugly big toad yet, nor\nher ugly son.\n\nWhen she woke up early in the morning, how she wept! Water all around\nher! How could she reach the shore? Poor little Thumbelina!\n\nDown under the mud the old toad was very busy, decking the best room\nwith buttercups and buds of water-lilies to make it gay for her little\ndaughter-in-law, Thumbelina.\n\n\"Now we will go to bring her little bed and place it ready,\" said\nthe old toad, and together she and her son swam out to the leaf where\nlittle Thumbelina sat.\n\n\"Here is my handsome son,\" she said, \"he is to be your husband,\" and\nshe bowed low in the water, for she wished to be very polite to the\nlittle maiden.\n\n\"Croak, croak,\" was all the young toad could say, as he looked at his\npretty little bride.\n\nThen they took away the tiny little bed, and Thumbelina was left all\nalone.\n\nHow the tears stained her pretty little face! How fast they fell into\nthe stream! Even the fish as they swam hither and thither thought,\n\"How it rains to-day,\" as the tiny drops fell thick and fast.\n\nThey popped up their heads and saw the forlorn little maiden.\n\n\"She shall not marry the ugly toad,\" they said, as they looked with\neager eyes at the pretty child. \"No, she shall not marry the ugly\ntoad.\"\n\nBut what could the little fish do to help Thumbelina?\n\nOh! they were such clever little fish!\n\nThey found the green stem which held the leaf on which Thumbelina\nsat. They bit it with their little sharp teeth, and they never\nstopped biting, till at last they bit the green stem through; and\naway, down the stream, floated the leaf, carrying with it little\nThumbelina.\n\n\"Free, free!\" she sang, and her voice tinkled as a chime of fairy\nbells. \"Free, free!\" she sang merrily as she floated down the stream,\naway, far away out of reach of the ugly old toad and her ugly son.\n\nAnd as she floated on, the little wild birds sang round her, and on\nthe banks the little wild harebells bowed to her.\n\nButterflies were flitting here and there in the sunshine. A pretty\nlittle white one fluttered on to the leaf on which sat Thumbelina. He\nloved the tiny maiden so well that he settled down beside her.\n\nNow she was quite happy! Birds around her, flowers near her, and the\nwater gleaming like gold in the summer sunshine. What besides could\nlittle Thumbelina wish?\n\nShe took off her sash and threw one end of it round the butterfly. The\nother end she fastened firmly to the leaf. On and on floated the leaf,\nthe little maiden and the butterfly.\n\nSuddenly a great cockchafer buzzed along. Alas! he caught sight of\nlittle Thumbelina. He flew to her, put his claw round her tiny waist\nand carried her off, up on to a tree.\n\nPoor little Thumbelina! How frightened she was! How grieved she was,\ntoo, for had she not lost her little friend the butterfly?\n\nWould he fly away, she wondered, or would her sash hold him fast?\n\nThe cockchafer was charmed with the little maiden. He placed her\ntenderly on the largest leaf he could find. He gathered honey for her\nfrom the flowers, and as she sipped it, he sat near and told her how\nbeautiful she looked.\n\nBut there were other chafers living in the tree, and when they came to\nsee little Thumbelina, they said, \"She is not pretty at all.\"\n\n\"She has only two legs,\" said one.\n\n\"She has no feelers,\" said another.\n\nSome said she was too thin, others that she was too fat, and then they\nall buzzed and hummed together, \"How ugly she is, how ugly she is!\"\nBut all the time little Thumbelina was the prettiest, daintiest little\nmaiden that ever lived.\n\nAnd now the cockchafer who had flown off with little Thumbelina\nthought he had been rather foolish to admire her.\n\nHe looked at her again. \"Pretty? No, after all she was not very\npretty.\" He would have nothing to do with her, and away he and all\nthe other chafers flew. Only first they carried little Thumbelina down\nfrom the tree and placed her on a daisy. She wept because she was so\nugly--so ugly that the chafers could not live with her. But all the\ntime, you know, she was the prettiest little maiden in the world.\n\nShe was living all alone in the wood now, but it was summer and she\ncould not feel sad or lonely while the warm golden sunshine touched\nher so gently, while the birds sang to her, and the flowers bowed to\nher.\n\nYes, little Thumbelina was happy. She ate honey from the flowers,\nand drank dew out of the golden buttercups and danced and sang the\nlivelong day.\n\nBut summer passed away and autumn came. The birds began to whisper\nof flying to warmer countries, and the flowers began to fade and hang\ntheir heads, and as autumn passed away, winter came, cold, dreary\nwinter.\n\nThumbelina shivered with cold. Her little frock was thin and old.\nShe would certainly be frozen to death, she thought, as she wrapped\nherself up in a withered leaf.\n\nThen the snow began to fall, and each snowflake seemed to smother her.\nShe was so very tiny.\n\nClose to the wood lay a corn-field. The beautiful golden grain had\nbeen carried away long ago, now there was only dry short stubble. But\nto little Thumbelina the stubble was like a great forest.\n\nShe walked through the hard field. She was shaking with cold. All at\nonce she saw a little door just before her. She looked again--yes, it\nwas a door.\n\nThe field-mouse had made a little house under the stubble, and lived\nso cosily there. She had a big room full of corn, and she had a\nkitchen and pantry as well.\n\n\"Perhaps I shall get some food here,\" thought the cold and hungry\nlittle maiden, as she stood knocking at the door, just like a tiny\nbeggar child. She had had nothing to eat for two long days. Oh, she\nwas very hungry!\n\n\"What a tiny thing you are!\" said the field-mouse, as she opened the\ndoor and saw Thumbelina. \"Come in and dine with me.\"\n\nHow glad Thumbelina was, and how she enjoyed dining with the\nfield-mouse.\n\nShe behaved so prettily that the old field-mouse told her she might\nlive with her while the cold weather lasted. \"And you shall keep my\nroom clean and neat, and you shall tell me stories,\" she added.\n\nThat is how Thumbelina came to live with the field-mouse and to meet\nMr. Mole.\n\n\"We shall have a visitor soon,\" said the field-mouse. \"My neighbor,\nMr. Mole, comes to see me every week-day. His house is very large, and\nhe wears a beautiful coat of black velvet. Unfortunately, he is blind.\nIf you tell him your prettiest stories he may marry you.\"\n\nNow the mole was very wise and very clever, but how could little\nThumbelina ever care for him? Why, he did not love the sun, nor the\nflowers, and he lived in a house underground. No, Thumbelina did not\nwish to marry the mole.\n\nHowever she must sing to him when he came to visit his neighbor the\nfield-mouse. When she had sung \"Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home,\"\nand \"Boys and girls come out to play,\" the mole was charmed, and\nthought he would like to marry the little maiden with the beautiful\nvoice.\n\nThen he tried to be very agreeable. He invited the field-mouse and\nThumbelina to walk along the underground passage he had dug between\ntheir houses. Mr. Mole was very fond of digging underground.\n\nAs it was dark the mole took a piece of tinder-wood in his mouth and\nled the way. The tinder-wood shone like a torch in the dark passage.\n\nA little bird lay in the passage, a little bird who had not flown away\nwhen the flowers faded and the cold winds blew.\n\nIt was dead, the mole said.\n\nWhen he reached the bird, the mole stopped and pushed his nose right\nup through the ceiling to make a hole, through which the daylight\nmight shine.\n\nThere lay the swallow, his wings pressed close to his side His little\nhead and legs drawn in under his feathers. He had died of cold.\n\n\"Poor little swallow!\" thought Thumbelina. All wild birds were her\nfriends. Had they not sung to her and fluttered round her all the long\nglad summer days?\n\nBut the mole kicked the swallow with his short legs. \"That one will\nsing no more,\" he said roughly. \"It must be sad to be born a bird and\nto be able only to sing and fly. I am thankful none of my children\nwill be birds,\" and he proudly smoothed down his velvet coat.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the field-mouse; \"what can a bird do but sing? When the\ncold weather comes it is useless.\"\n\nThumbelina said nothing. Only when the others moved on, she stooped\ndown and stroked the bird gently with her tiny hand, and kissed its\nclosed eyes.\n\nThat night the little maiden could not sleep. \"I will go to see the\npoor swallow again,\" she thought.\n\nShe got up out of her tiny bed. She wove a little carpet out of hay.\nDown the long underground passage little Thumbelina walked, carrying\nthe carpet. She reached the bird at last, and spread the carpet gently\nround him. She fetched warm cotton and laid it over the bird.\n\n\"Even down on the cold earth he will be warm now,\" thought the gentle\nlittle maiden.\n\n\"Farewell,\" she said sadly, \"farewell, little bird! Did you sing to me\nthrough the long summer days, when the leaves were green and the sky\nwas blue? Farewell, little swallow!\" and she stooped to press her tiny\ncheeks against the soft feathers.\n\nAs she did so, she heard--what could it be? Pit, pat, pit, pat! Could\nthe bird be alive? Little Thumbelina listened still. Yes, it was the\nbeating of the little bird's heart that she heard. He had not been\ndead after all, only frozen with cold. The little carpet and the\ncovering the little maid had brought warmed the bird. He would get\nwell now.\n\nWhat a big bird he seemed to Thumbelina! She was almost afraid now,\nfor she was so tiny. She was tiny, but she was brave. Drawing the\ncovering more closely round the poor swallow, she brought her own\nlittle pillow, that the bird's head might rest softly.\n\nThumbelina stole out again the next night. \"Would the swallow look at\nher,\" she wondered.\n\nYes, he opened his eyes, and looked at little Thumbelina, who stood\nthere with a tiny torch of tinder-wood.\n\n\"Thanks, thanks, little Thumbelina,\" he twittered feebly. \"Soon\nI shall grow strong and fly out in the bright sunshine once more;\nthanks, thanks, little maiden.\"\n\n\"Oh! but it is too cold, it snows and freezes, for now it is winter,\"\nsaid Thumbelina. \"Stay here and be warm, and I will take care of you,\"\nand she brought the swallow water in a leaf.\n\nAnd the little bird told her all his story,--how he had tried to fly\nto the warm countries, and how he had torn his wing on a blackthorn\nbush and fallen to the ground. But he could not tell her how he had\ncome to the underground passage.\n\nAll winter the swallow stayed there, and Thumbelina was often in the\nlong passage, with her little torch of tinder-wood. But the mole and\nthe field-mouse did not know how Thumbelina tended and cared for the\nswallow.\n\nAt last spring came, and the sun sent its warmth down where the\nswallow lay in the underground passage.\n\nLittle Thumbelina opened the hole which the mole had made in the\nceiling, and the sunshine streamed down on the swallow and the little\ngirl.\n\nHow the swallow longed to soar away, up and up, to be lost to sight in\nthe blue, blue sky!\n\n\"Come with me, little Thumbelina,\" said the swallow, \"come with me to\nthe blue skies and the green woods.\"\n\nBut Thumbelina remembered how kind the field-mouse had been to her\nwhen she was cold and hungry, and she would not leave her.\n\n\"Farewell! farewell! then, little maiden,\" twittered the swallow as he\nflew out and up, up into the sunshine.\n\nThumbelina loved the swallow dearly. Her eyes were full of tears as\nshe watched the bird disappearing till he was only a tiny speck of\nblack.\n\nAnd now sad days came to little Thumbelina.\n\nThe golden corn was once more waving in the sunshine above the house\nof the field-mouse, but Thumbelina must not go out lest she lose\nherself among the corn.\n\nNot go out in the bright sunshine! Oh, poor little Thumbelina!\n\n\"You must get your wedding clothes ready this summer,\" said the\nfield-mouse. \"You must be well provided with linen and worsted. My\nneighbor the mole will wish a well-dressed bride.\"\n\nThe mole had said he wished to marry little Thumbelina before the cold\nwinter came again.\n\nSo Thumbelina sat at the spinning-wheel through the long summer days,\nspinning and weaving with four little spiders to help her.\n\nIn the evening the mole came to visit her. \"Summer will soon be over,\"\nhe said, \"and we shall be married.\"\n\nBut oh! little Thumbelina did not wish the summer to end.\n\nLive with the dull old mole, who hated the sunshine, who would not\nlisten to the song of the birds--live underground with him! Little\nThumbelina wished the summer would never end.\n\nThe spinning and weaving were over now. All the wedding clothes were\nready. Autumn was come.\n\n\"Only four weeks and the wedding-day will have come,\" said the\nfield-mouse.\n\nAnd little Thumbelina wept.\n\n\"I will not marry the tiresome old mole,\" she said.\n\n\"I shall bite you with my white tooth if you talk such nonsense,\" said\nthe field-mouse. \"Among all my friends not one of them has such a fine\nvelvet coat as the mole. His cellars are full and his rooms are large.\nYou ought to be glad to marry so well,\" she ended.\n\n\"Was there no escape from the underground home?\" little Thumbelina\nwondered.\n\nThe wedding-day came. The mole arrived to fetch his little bride.\n\nHow could she say good-by for ever to the beautiful sunshine?\n\n\"Farewell, farewell!\" she cried, and waved her little hands towards\nthe glorious sun.\n\n\"Farewell, farewell!\" she cried, and threw her tiny arms round a\nlittle red flower growing at her feet.\n\n\"Tell the dear swallow, when he comes again,\" she whispered to the\nflower, \"tell him I will never forget him.\"\n\n\"Tweet, tweet!\" what was that Thumbelina heard? \"Tweet, tweet!\" Could\nit be the swallow?\n\nThe flutter of wings was round her. Little Thumbelina looked. How glad\nshe was, for there, indeed, was the little bird she had tended and\ncared for so long. She told him, weeping, she must not stay. She\nmust marry the mole and live underground, and never see the sun, the\nglorious sun.\n\n\"Come with me, come with me, little Thumbelina,\" twittered the\nswallow. \"You can sit on my back, and I will fly with you to warmer\ncountries, far from the tiresome old mole. Over mountains and seas we\nwill fly to the country where the summer never ends, and the sunlight\nalways shines.\"\n\nThen little Thumbelina seated herself on her dear swallow's back, and\nput her tiny feet on his outstretched wing. She tied herself firmly\nwith her little sash to the strongest feather of the bird.\n\nAnd the swallow soared high into the air. High above forests and\nlakes, high above the big mountains that were crested with snow, he\nsoared.\n\nAnd little Thumbelina shivered as she felt the cold air, but soon she\ncrept under the bird's warm feathers, and only pushed out her little\nhead to see the beauty all around her.\n\nThey had reached the warm countries now. The sun was more brilliant\nhere, the flowers more radiant.\n\nOn and on flew the swallow, till he came to a white marble palace.\nHalf-ruined it was, and vine leaves trailed up the long slender\npillars. And among the broad, green leaves many a swallow had built\nhis nest, and one of these nests belonged to Thumbelina's little\nswallow.\n\n\"This is my home,\" said the bird, \"but you shall live in one of\nthese brilliant flowers, in the loveliest of them all'.\"\n\nAnd little Thumbelina clapped her hands with joy.\n\nThe swallow flew with her to a stately sunflower, and set her\ncarefully on one of the broad yellow petals.\n\nBut think, what was her surprise! In the very heart of the flower\nstood a little Prince, fair and transparent as crystal. On his head he\nwore a crown of gold, on his shoulders a pair of delicate wings, and\nhe was small, every bit as small as Thumbelina. He was the spirit of\nthe flower.\n\nFor you know in each flower there is a spirit, a tiny little boy or\ngirl, but this little Prince was King of all the flower spirits.\n\nThe little King thought Thumbelina the loveliest maiden he had ever\nseen. He took off his golden crown and placed it on the tiny head\nof the little maid, and in a silvery voice he asked, \"Will you be my\nbride, little Thumbelina, and reign with me over the flower spirits?\"\n\nHow glad Thumbelina was!\n\nThe little King wished to marry her. Yes, she would be his little\nQueen.\n\nThen out of each blossom stepped tiny little children. They came to\npay their homage to little Thumbelina.\n\nEach one brought her a present, and the most beautiful of all the\npresents was a pair of wings, delicate as gossamer. And when they\nwere fastened on the shoulders of the little Queen, she could fly from\nflower to flower.\n\nAnd the swallow sat on his nest above, and sang his sweetest bridal\nsong for the wedding of little Thumbelina.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TINDER-BOX\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nA story about a tinder-box? Yes, but then it was such a wonderful one!\nWhy, it must certainly have been a magic box!\n\nIt belonged to an old witch, this tinder-box, but it had been left\nright down inside a tree by the ugly old witch's grandmother. But get\nit again she must, for she knew it really was a magic tinder-box.\n\nBut how could she get it?\n\nAh! here was her chance.\n\nTramp, tramp; right, left, right, left. She heard the steps come\nnearer and nearer. She looked! There was a soldier coming along;\ntramp, tramp.\n\nShe could see him now, with a knapsack on his back, and his sword at\nhis side.\n\nThe soldier had been to the wars and was coming home.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said the witch, as he came close to her. \"Good\nevening; what a bright sword you wear, and what a big knapsack! You\nshall have as much money as you wish for yourself!\"\n\n\"Thank you, old witch,\" said the soldier. But he did not tell her that\nshe did not look as though she had much money to spare. He was too\nwise to say anything but, \"Thank you, old witch.\"\n\n\"Do you see that big tree?\" she said, and she pointed to one that\nstood close by the wayside. \"It is hollow inside. Climb up to the top,\nand you will see a hole. It is large. You must creep through it and\nlet yourself down, right down under the tree. Tie a rope round your\nwaist, and I will haul you up again when you call.\"\n\n\"But what am I to do under the tree?\" asked the soldier.\n\n\"What are you to do? Why, did I not tell you you should have money.\nIt is there, under the tree, copper, silver, gold. Gold!\" cried the\nwitch, in a rough and eager voice. \"When you come to the bottom of the\ntree there is a large passage. It is quite light, indeed it is ablaze\nwith light. More than a hundred lamps are burning. There you will see\nthree doors. The keys are in the keyholes. Unlock the doors and walk\nin. In the first room in the middle of the floor, is a big box. On the\ntop of it sits a dog. He has big eyes, they are as big as saucers,\nbut do not let that trouble you. You shall have my blue checked apron.\nSpread it on the floor. Go forward quickly, seize the dog and place\nhim on it. After that is done, you can open the box, and take out as\nmuch money as you wish. It is true the box holds only copper coins,\nbut if you would rather have silver, just walk into the next room.\nThere sits another dog, on another box, with big eyes, eyes as big\nas--oh, as big as mill-wheels, but never mind that. Place the dog on\nmy apron, then open the box and take as much silver as you wish. But\nif you would rather have gold, why, then open the third door.\nThere you will see another dog, sitting on another box. This one is\ntremendous, quite gigantic, and he has eyes, oh! such great, rolling\neyes! They are as large as the Round Tower. He is a dog indeed, but\ndo not let that trouble you. Place him on my blue checked apron and he\nwill not hurt you. Then take gold, as much gold as ever you wish.\"\n\n\"Splendid!\" said the soldier. You see he had been to the wars and was\na brave man. \"Splendid! But what am I to give you, old witch? You will\nwish something, I am quite certain of that.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the witch: \"I do not wish one single coin. But I do wish my\nold tinder-box. My grandmother left it behind her, the last time she\nwent down the tree.\"\n\n\"Well, tie the rope round my waist,\" said the soldier.\n\n\"Here it is,\" said the witch, \"and here is my blue checked apron. It\nis very important.\"\n\nUp the tree climbed the soldier, into the tree he crept through the\nhole at the top, and down, down the hollow inside he slipped, and\nthere he was, in a wide passage, lighted, as the witch had said, by a\nhundred burning lamps.\n\nThe soldier unlocked the first door he saw. There sat the dog with\neyes as big as saucers, staring at him in great surprise.\n\n\"I must obey my orders,\" thought the soldier.\n\nHe placed the witch's apron on the floor, seized the dog bravely, and\nplaced him on the apron.\n\nThen he opened the box. It was full of copper coins. He crammed as\nmany as he could into his pocket, shut the lid, placed the dog again\non the box, and passed on to the second door.\n\nHe unlocked it. Yes! there sat another dog on another box, with great\neyes, as big as mill-wheels.\n\n\"If you stare at me so hard, you will hurt your eyes,\" said the\nsoldier, and thought what a joke he had made. Then he seized the dog,\nplaced it on the witch's apron, and raised the lid of the second box.\n\nSilver, every coin was silver! The soldier threw away all his copper\ncoins in a great hurry. He must have silver. He stuffed his pockets\nand his knapsack with the silver coins, and clapped his hands. He was\nrich now.\n\nOn he went to the third room. He unlocked it. There indeed was another\nbox and another dog, and oh, horrible! the soldier almost shut his\neyes. The dog had eyes, great big rolling eyes, eyes as large as the\nRound Tower. And they would not keep still. No, round and round they\nrolled.\n\nBut the soldier was brave; he had been to the wars.\n\n\"Good evening,\" he said, and he lifted his hat respectfully, for never\nbefore in all his life, had he seen so big, so enormous a creature.\n\nThen he walked straight up to the dog. Could he lift him? Yes, he\ntook the immense animal in his arms, set him on the witch's apron, and\nopened the third box.\n\nGold! It was full of gold. He would be able to buy the whole town,\nand all the sugar-plums, and all the tin soldiers, and all the\nrocking-horses and whips in the world.\n\nThe soldier was delighted. He threw away his silver money. Silver! He\ndid not want silver. Here was gold, gold!\n\nHe filled his pockets and his knapsack, but he could not bear to stop\nthere. No, he crammed his cap and his boots so full that he could\nhardly walk. He was really rich at last. He shut the lid, placed the\ndog again on the box, and went out of the room, along the passage.\n\nThen he shouted up the tree, \"Halloo, old witch! haul me up again.\"\n\n\"Have you got the tinder-box?\" said the witch.\n\n\"Oh, that I had quite forgotten,\" answered the soldier, and back he\nwent to fetch it.\n\nWhen he came back the witch took the rope and hauled and hauled, till\nthere was the soldier, once more, safe on the high road, just as he\nwas before, only now he was rich, so rich that he had become very\nbold.\n\nHe had gold in his pockets, gold in his knapsack, gold in his cap,\ngold in his boots.\n\n\"What are you going to do with the tinder-box, just tell me that?\"\nsaid the soldier.\n\n\"That is no business of yours,\" said the witch. \"You have the gold,\ngive me the tinder-box!\"\n\n\"Rubbish!\" said the soldier. He had grown rude as well as rich, you\nsee. \"Rubbish--take your choice--tell me at once what you mean to do\nwith the tinker-box, or I will draw my sword and cut off your head.\"\n\n\"I won't tell you,\" screamed the witch.\n\nThen the soldier cut off her head, and the poor witch lay there dead.\nBut the soldier did not stay to look at her. In a great hurry he took\nall his gold and tied it up in the blue checked apron.\n\nHe slung it across his shoulder, put the tinder-box in his pocket, and\nmarched off to town.\n\nHow grand he felt! What heaps of gold he had in his bundle!\n\nWhen the soldier reached the town he walked straight to the finest\nhotel, and asked for the best rooms, and for dinner ordered all his\nfavorite puddings and fruits.\n\nThe servant who cleaned his boots tossed her head. \"Shabby boots for a\nrich man to wear,\" she said.\n\nBut next day the soldier had bought himself very grand new boots, and\ngay clothing, so that no one could possibly call him shabby.\n\nShabby! No, he was a great man now, and people crowded round this rich\nfellow, told him all the sights there were to be seen in their city,\nall about their King too, and the beautiful Princess, his daughter.\n\n\"I should like to see her, this wonderful Princess,\" said the soldier.\n\n\"But you cannot see her,\" they told him. \"She lives, the beautiful\nPrincess, in a great copper castle, with walls and towers all round.\nOnly the King visits her there, for it was once foretold that she\nwould marry a common soldier, and that our King does not wish.\"\n\n\"I must see her once, just once,\" thought the soldier. But how was he\ngoing to find the way into the castle, that was the question?\n\nMeanwhile he led a merry life. He drove about in the King's Park; he\nwent to the theater; he gave money to the poor, because he remembered\nhow miserable it was to have no money in his own pocket.\n\nThe soldier was always gaily dressed now. He had a great many friends\nwho said he was a real gentleman, and that pleased him very much.\n\nAnd so he went on day after day, spending money and giving money, but\ngetting none, till at last the gold came to an end. He had only two\ncopper coins left: he was only a poor soldier once more.\n\nLeaving the grand hotel he went to live in a small room. He found a\ntiny attic, just under a roof, up, oh! so many stairs. Here he lived,\nmending his own clothes, brushing his own boots. He had no visitors,\nfor his grand friends would not take the trouble to walk up so many\nstairs to his little attic.\n\nHungry? Yes, he was hungry too, and as he had no money to buy even a\nfarthing candle, he had to sit alone in the dark.\n\nOne evening he suddenly thought of the witch's tinder-box. Surely in\nit there were matches.\n\nThe soldier opened it eagerly. Yes, there lay the matches. He seized\none and struck it on the tinder-box.\n\nNo sooner had he done this, than the door burst suddenly open, and\nthere, there, staring at him, stood the dog with eyes as big as\nsaucers.\n\n\"What does my master command?\" asked the dog.\n\n\"No wonder the old witch wished the tinder-box for her very own,\"\nthought the soldier. Aloud he said to the dog, \"Fetch me some money,\"\nand the dog instantly vanished to do his master's bidding.\n\nHe was back in a moment, and lo! in his mouth was a big bag, full of\npennies.\n\n\"Why, this is a magic box,\" said the soldier. \"I have a treasure\nindeed.\" And so he had, for listen! Strike the box once, the dog with\neyes as large as saucers appeared. Strike it twice and the dog with\neyes as big as mill-wheels appeared. Strike it thrice and there\nappeared the monster dog with eyes that rolled round and round and\nwere as large as the Round Tower itself. All three dogs did the\nsoldier's bidding.\n\nNow the soldier could have gold again. Gold as much as ever he wished.\n\nHe moved once more to the grand rooms in the fine hotel. He had gay\nclothes again; and now, strangely enough, all his friends came to see\nhim and liked him as much as ever.\n\nOne evening the soldier's thoughts wandered away to the beautiful\nPrincess, the beautiful Princess who was shut up so safely in the\ngreat copper palace.\n\n\"It is ridiculous that no one sees the Princess,\" thought the soldier.\n\"I want to see her, and I shall.\"\n\nHe pulled out his tinder-box, struck a light, and lo! there stood the\ndog with eyes as large as saucers.\n\n\"It is the middle of the night,\" said the soldier, \"but I must see the\nPrincess, if it is only for a moment.\"\n\nThe dog bounded out of the door, and before the soldier had time\nto wonder what he would do or say if the beautiful Princess really\nappeared, there she was.\n\nYes, there she was, fast asleep on the dog's back. She was beautiful,\nso beautiful that the soldier was quite sure that she was a real\nPrincess. He stooped and kissed her hand. She was so beautiful he\ncould not help it. Then off ran the dog, back to the copper palace\nwith the Princess.\n\n\"I had such a strange dream last night,\" the Princess told the King\nand Queen at breakfast next morning. \"I dreamed that an enormous dog\ncame and carried me off to a soldier, and the soldier kissed my hand.\nIt was a strange dream,\" she murmured.\n\n\"The Princess must not be left alone to-night,\" said the Queen. \"She\nmay be frightened if she dreams again.\" And she told an old dame who\nlived at court to sit in the Princess's room at night.\n\nBut what would the Queen have said if she had known that what the\nPrincess told them was no dream, but something that had really and\ntruly happened?\n\nWell, that evening the soldier thought he would like to see the\nPrincess again.\n\nHe struck a light, and there stood one of his obedient dogs.\n\n\"Bring the Princess,\" ordered the soldier, and the dog vanished to do\nhis master's will.\n\nThe old dame sat beside the Princess's bed. She had heard all about\nthe Princess's dream.\n\n\"Was she dreaming herself now?\" she wondered. She pinched\nherself.--No, she was wide awake, yet she saw a dog, a real dog with\neyes as large as saucers, in front of her.\n\nThe dog seized the Princess, and ran off; but although he ran very\nquickly, the old dame found time to put on her goloshes before she\nfollowed.\n\nHow she panted along! How she ran, the faithful old dame! She was just\nin time to see the Princess on the dog's back disappear into a large\nhouse.\n\n\"I shall mark the house, so that I may know it in the morning,\" she\nthought. And she took a piece of white chalk and made a great white\ncross on the door.\n\nThen she walked home and slept.\n\nSoon afterwards the dog carried the Princess back to the copper\npalace, and noticed the great white cross on the door of the hotel\nwhere his master lived.\n\nAnd what do you think he did? Oh, he was a wise dog. He took a piece\nof chalk, and he put a great white cross on every door in the town.\n\nEarly next morning the King and Queen and all the lords and ladies of\nthe court were astir. They had heard the old dame's story, and were\ngoing to see the house with the great white cross.\n\nThey had scarcely started, when the King's eyes fell on a great white\ncross! \"Here it is,\" cried the King eagerly.\n\n\"What nonsense you talk, my dear! it is here,\" said the Queen, for\nalmost at the same moment she too had seen a door with a great white\ncross.\n\nThen all the lords and ladies cried: \"It is here, it is here,\" as\none after another they saw doors marked with great white crosses. The\nhubbub was terrible, and the poor old dame was quite bewildered. How\ncould she tell which door she had marked? It was quite useless. The\ndog had perplexed everybody, and they went back to the copper palace\nknowing no more than when they left it.\n\nBut the Queen was a clever woman. She could do more than just sit very\nproperly on a throne.\n\nThe same evening, she took her big gold scissors and cut up a large\npiece of silk into small pieces. These she sewed together into a\npretty little bag. Then she filled the bag with the finest grains of\nwheat. With her own hands she tied the bag round the Princess's waist,\nafter which she took her gold scissors again and cut a tiny little\nhole in the bag, a hole just big enough to let the grains of wheat\ndrop out whenever the Princess moved.\n\nThat night the dog came again and carried the Princess off to the\nsoldier, and the soldier wished he were a Prince, for then he would\nmarry this beautiful Princess.\n\nNow although the dog had very big eyes, eyes as large as saucers, he\ndid not notice the tiny grains of wheat as they dropped out all along\nthe road from the palace to the soldier's window. Under the window\nthe dog stopped and climbed up the wall with the Princess, into the\nsoldier's room.\n\nThe next morning the King and Queen followed the little grains of\nwheat and very easily found out where the Princess had been.\n\nThen the soldier was seized and put into prison.\n\nOh, how dark and tiresome it was! But it was worse than that one day,\nwhen they told him he was to be hanged, \"hanged to-morrow,\" they told\nhim.\n\nWhat a fright the soldier was in, and, worst of all, he had left his\ntinder-box at the hotel.\n\nMorning came! Through the narrow bars of his little window the soldier\ncould see the people all hurrying out of town. They were going to see\nhim hanged.\n\nHe heard the drums, he saw the soldiers marching along. He wished he\nwere marching with them. Alas, alas! that could never be now--\n\nA little shoemaker's apprentice, with a leather apron, came running\nalong. He was in such a hurry that he lost one of his slippers. It\nfell close under the soldier's window, as he sat peering out through\nthe narrow bars.\n\nThe soldier called to the boy, \"There is no hurry, for I am still\nhere. Nothing will happen till I go. I will give you two-pence if you\nwill run to the house where I used to live and fetch me my tinder-box.\nYou must run all the way.\"\n\nThe shoemaker's boy thought he would like to earn twopence, and off he\nraced to bring the tinder-box.\n\nHe found it. \"A useless little box,\" he said to himself, but back he\nraced with it to the soldier; and then--what do you think happened?\n\nOutside the town the scaffold had been raised, the soldiers were drawn\nup round it, as well as crowds of people.\n\nThe King and Queen were there too, seated on a magnificent throne,\nexactly opposite the judges and councilors.\n\nThe rope was being put round the soldier's neck, when he turned to\nthe King and Queen and earnestly entreated one last favor--only to be\nallowed to smoke one pipe of tobacco.\n\nWhat a harmless request! How could the King refuse so harmless a\nrequest?\n\n\"Yes,\" said his Majesty, \"you may smoke one pipe of tobacco.\"\n\nThe soldier took out his tinder-box, struck a match, once, twice,\nthrice, and lo! there before him stood the three enormous dogs,\nwaiting his commands.\n\n\"Help me,\" shouted the soldier; \"do not let me be hanged.\"\n\nAt once the three terrible dogs rushed at the judges and councilors,\ntossed them high into the air, so that as they fell they were broken\ninto pieces.\n\nThe King began to speak; perhaps he was going to forgive the soldier,\nbut no one knows what he was going to say, for the biggest dog gave\nhim no time to finish his sentence.\n\nHe rushed at the King and Queen, flung them high into the air, so that\nwhen they fell down, they too were broken all to pieces.\n\nThen the soldiers and the people, who were all terribly frightened,\nshouted in a great hurry, \"Brave soldier, you shall be our King, and\nthe beautiful Princess shall be our Queen!\"\n\nAnd while they led the soldier to the royal carriage the great big\ndogs bounded along in front.\n\nLittle boys whistled gaily, and the guards presented arms.\n\nThen the Princess was sent for, and made Queen, which she liked much\nbetter than living shut up in a copper palace. And the wedding feast\nlasted for eight whole days, and the three monster wizard dogs sat at\nthe table, staring around them with all their eyes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS\n\n\nBY GEORGE WEBBE DASENT\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a man who had three sons, Peter, Paul, and\nJohn. John was Boots, of course, because he was the youngest. I can't\nsay the man had anything more than these three sons, for he had n't\none penny to rub against another; and so he told his sons over and\nover again they must go out into the world and try to earn their\nbread, for there at home there was nothing to be looked for but\nstarving to death.\n\nNow, near the man's cottage was the King's palace, and, you must know,\njust against the King's windows a great oak had sprung up, which\nwas so stout and big that it took away all the light from the King's\npalace. The King had said he would give many, many dollars to the man\nwho could fell the oak, but no one was man enough for that, for as\nsoon as ever one chip of the oak's trunk flew off, two grew in its\nstead. A well, too, the King would have dug, which was to hold water\nfor the whole year; for all his neighbors had wells, but he hadn't\nany, and that he thought a shame. So the King said he would give to\nany one who could dig him such a well as would hold water for a whole\nyear round, both money and goods; but no one could do it, for the\nKing's palace lay high, high up on a hill, and they had dug only a few\ninches before they came upon the living rock.\n\nBut as the King had set his heart on having these two things done,\nhe had it given out far and wide, in all the churches of his kingdom,\nthat he who could fell the big oak in the King's courtyard, and get\nhim a well that would hold water the whole year round, should have\nthe Princess and half the kingdom. Well, you may easily know there\nwas many a man who came to try his luck; but for all their hacking and\nhewing, and all their digging and delving, it was no good. The oak got\nbigger and stouter at every stroke, and the rock didn't get softer,\neither. So one day those three brothers thought they'd set off and\ntry too, and their father hadn't a word against it; for even if they\ndidn't get the Princess and half the kingdom, it might happen they\nmight get a place somewhere with a good master; and that was all he\nwanted. So when the brothers said they thought of going to the palace,\ntheir father said \"yes\" at once. So Peter, Paul, and Jack went off\nfrom their home.\n\nWell, they hadn't gone far before they came to a fir-wood, and up\nalong one side of it rose a steep hillside, and as they went, they\nheard something hewing and hacking away up on the hill among the\ntrees.\n\n\"I wonder, now, what it is that is hewing away up yonder,\" said Jack.\n\n\"You're always so clever with your wonderings,\" said Peter and Paul\nboth at once. \"What wonder is it, pray, that a woodcutter should stand\nand hack up on a hillside?\"\n\n\"Still, I'd like to see what it is, after all,\" said Jack; and up he\nwent.\n\n\"Oh, if you're such a child, 'twill do you good to go and take a\nlesson,\" bawled out his brothers after him.\n\nBut Jack didn't care for what they said; he climbed the steep hillside\ntowards where the noise came, and when he reached the place, what do\nyou think he saw? Why, an axe that stood there hacking and hewing, all\nof itself, at the trunk of a fir.\n\n\"Good-day!\" said Jack. \"So you stand here all alone and hew, do you?\"\n\n\"Yes; here I've stood and hewed and hacked a long, long time, waiting\nfor you,\" said the Axe.\n\n\"Well, here I am at last,\" said Jack, as he took the axe, pulled it\noff its handle, and stuffed both head and handle into his wallet.\n\nSo when he got down again to his brothers, they began to jeer and\nlaugh at him.\n\n\"And now, what funny thing was it you saw up yonder on the hillside?\"\nthey said.\n\n\"Oh, it was only an axe we heard,\" said Jack.\n\nSo when they had gone a bit farther, they came under a steep spur of\nrock, and up there they heard something digging and shoveling.\n\n\"I wonder now,\" said Jack, \"what it is digging and shoveling up yonder\nat the top of the rock.\"\n\n\"Ah, you're always so clever with your wonderings,\" said Peter and\nPaul again; \"as if you'd never heard a woodpecker hacking and pecking\nat a hollow tree.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" said Jack, \"I think it would be a piece of fun just to\nsee what it really is.\"\n\nAnd so off he set to climb the rock, while the others laughed and made\ngame of him. But he didn't care a bit for that; up he climbed, and\nwhen he got near the top, what do you think he saw? Why, a spade that\nstood there digging and delving.\n\n\"Good-day!\" said Jack. \"So you stand here all alone, and dig and\ndelve!\"\n\n\"Yes, that's what I do,\" said the Spade, \"and that's what I've done\nthis many a long day, waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Well, here I am,\" said Jack again, as he took the spade and knocked\nit off its handle, and put it into his wallet, and then down again to\nhis brothers.\n\n\"Well, what was it, so rare and strange,\" said Peter and Paul, \"that\nyou saw up there at the top of the rock?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Jack, \"nothing more than a spade; that was what we heard.\"\n\nSo they went on again a good bit, till they came to a brook. They were\nthirsty, all three, after their long walk, and so they lay down beside\nthe brook to have a drink.\n\n\"I wonder now,\" said Jack, \"where all this water comes from.\"\n\n\"I wonder if you're right in your head,\" said Peter and Paul in one\nbreath. \"If you're not mad already, you'll go mad very soon, with your\nwonderings. Where the brook comes from, indeed! Have you never heard\nhow water rises from a spring in the earth?\"\n\n\"Yes; but still I've a great fancy to see where this brook comes\nfrom,\" said Jack.\n\nSo up alongside the brook he went, in spite of all that his brothers\nbawled after him. Nothing could stop him. On he went. So, as he went\nup and up, the brook got smaller and smaller, and at last, a little\nway farther on, what do you think he saw? Why, a great walnut, and out\nof that the water trickled.\n\n\"Good-day!\" said Jack again; \"So you lie here, and trickle and run\ndown all alone?\"\n\n\"Yes, I do,\" said the Walnut; \"and here have I trickled and run this\nmany a long day, waiting for you.\"\n\n\"Well, here I am,\" said Jack, as he took up a lump of moss, and\nplugged up the hole, that the water mightn't run out. Then he put the\nwalnut into his wallet, and ran down to his brothers.\n\n\"Well, now,\" said Peter and Paul, \"have you found out where the water\ncomes from? A rare sight it must have been!\"\n\n\"Oh, after all, it was only a hole it ran out of,\" said Jack; and so\nthe others laughed and made game of him again, but Jack didn't mind\nthat a bit.\n\n\"After all, I had the fun of seeing it,\" said he.\n\nSo when they had gone a bit farther they came to the King's palace;\nbut as every one in the kingdom had heard how they might win the\nPrincess and half the realm, if they could only fell the big oak and\ndig the King's well, so many had come to try their luck that the oak\nwas now twice as stout and big as it had been at first, for two chips\ngrew for every one they hewed out with their axes, as I dare say you\nall bear in mind. So the King had now laid it down as a punishment\nthat if any one tried and couldn't fell the oak, he should be put on\na barren island, and both his ears were to be clipped off. But the two\nbrothers didn't let themselves be scared by that; they were quite sure\nthey could fell the oak, and Peter, as he was eldest, was to try his\nhand first; but it went with him as with all the rest who had hewn\nat the oak; for every chip he cut out, two grew in its place. So the\nKing's men seized him, and clipped off both his ears, and put him out\non the island.\n\nNow Paul, he was to try his luck, but he fared just the same; when he\nhad hewn two or three strokes, they began to see the oak grow, and so\nthe King's men seized him too, and clipped his ears, and put him out\non the island; and his ears they clipped closer, because they said he\nought to have taken a lesson from his brother.\n\nSo now Jack was to try.\n\n\"If you _will_ look like a marked sheep, we're quite ready to clip\nyour ears at once, and then you'll save yourself some bother,\" said\nthe King, for he was angry with him for his brothers' sake.\n\n\"Well, I'd like to just try first,\" said Jack, and so he got leave.\nThen he took his axe out of his wallet and fitted it to its handle.\n\n\"Hew away!\" said he to his axe; and away it hewed, making the chips\nfly again, so that it wasn't long before down came the oak.\n\nWhen that was done, Jack pulled out his spade, and fitted it to its\nhandle.\n\n\"Dig away!\" said he to the spade; and so the spade began to dig and\ndelve till the earth and rock flew out in splinters, and so he had the\nwell soon dug out, you may think.\n\nAnd when he had got it as big and deep as he chose, Jack took out his\nwalnut and laid it in one corner of the well, and pulled the plug of\nmoss out.\n\n\"Trickle and run,\" said Jack, and so the nut trickled and ran, till\nthe water gushed out of the hole in a stream, and in a short time the\nwell was brimful.\n\nThen Jack had felled the oak which shaded the King's palace, and dug\na well in the palace-yard, and so he got the Princess and half the\nkingdom, as the King had said; but it was lucky for Peter and Paul\nthat they had lost their ears, else they had heard each hour and day\nhow every one said, \"Well, after all, Jack wasn't so much out of his\nmind when he took to wondering.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE HUSBAND WHO WAS TO MIND THE HOUSE\n\nBY GEORGE WEBBE DASENT\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a man so surly and cross he never thought\nhis wife did anything right in the house. So one evening, in haymaking\ntime, he came home, scolding and swearing, and showing his teeth and\nmaking a dust.\n\n\"Dear love, don't be so angry; there's a good man,\" said his goody;\n\"to-morrow let's change our work. I'll go out with the mowers and mow,\nand you shall mind the house at home.\"\n\nYes, the husband thought that would do very well. He was quite\nwilling, he said.\n\nSo, early next morning, his goody took a scythe over her neck, and\nwent out into the hayfield with the mowers and began to mow; but the\nman was to mind the house, and do the work at home.\n\nFirst of all he wanted to churn the butter; but when he had churned a\nwhile he got thirsty, and went down to the cellar to tap a barrel of\nale. So, just when he had knocked in the bung, and was putting the tap\ninto the cask, he heard overhead the pig come into the kitchen. Then\noff he ran up the cellar steps, with the tap in his hand, as fast as\nhe could, to look after the pig, lest it should upset the churn; but\nwhen he got up, and saw the pig had already knocked the churn over,\nand stood there, routing and grunting amongst the cream which was\nrunning all over the floor, he got so wild with rage that he quite\nforgot the ale-barrel, and ran at the pig as hard as he could. He\ncaught it, too, just as it ran out of doors, and gave it such a kick\nthat piggy lay for dead on the spot. Then all at once he remembered\nhe had the tap in his hand; but when he got down to the cellar, every\ndrop of ale had run out of the cask.\n\nThen he went into the dairy and found enough cream left to fill the\nchurn again, and so he began to churn, for butter they must have at\ndinner. When he had churned a bit, he remembered that their milking\ncow was still shut up in the stable, and hadn't had a bit to eat or\na drop to drink all the morning, though the sun was high. Then all at\nonce he thought 'twas too far to take her down to the meadow, so he'd\njust get her up on the housetop--for the house, you must know, was\nthatched with sods, and a fine crop of grass was growing there. Now\ntheir house lay close up against a steep down, and he thought if he\nlaid a plank across to the thatch at the back he'd easily get the cow\nup.\n\nBut still he couldn't leave the churn, for there was his little babe\ncrawling about on the floor, and \"if I leave it,\" he thought, \"the\nchild is sure to upset it.\" So he took the churn on his back, and\nwent out with it; but then he thought he'd better first water the cow\nbefore he turned her out on the thatch; so he took up a bucket to draw\nwater out of the well; but, as he stooped down at the well's brink,\nall the cream ran out of the churn over his shoulders, and so down\ninto the well.\n\nNow it was near dinner-time, and he hadn't even got the butter yet; so\nhe thought he'd best boil the porridge, and filled the pot with water,\nand hung it over the fire. When he had done that, he thought the cow\nmight perhaps fall off the thatch and break her legs or her neck. So\nhe got up on the house to tie her up. One end of the rope he made fast\nto the cow's neck, and the other he slipped down the chimney and tied\nround his own thigh; and he had to make haste, for the water now began\nto boil in the pot, and he had still to grind the oatmeal.\n\nSo he began to grind away; but while he was hard at it, down fell the\ncow off the housetop after all, and as she fell she dragged the man up\nthe chimney, by the rope. There he stuck fast; and as for the cow, she\nhung half-way down the wall, swinging between heaven and earth, for\nshe could neither get down nor up.\n\nAnd now the goody had waited seven lengths and seven breadths for her\nhusband to come and call them home to dinner; but never a call they\nhad. At last she thought she'd waited long enough, and went home. But\nwhen she got there and saw the cow hanging in such an ugly place, she\nran up and cut the rope in two with her scythe. But as she did this,\ndown came her husband out of the chimney; and so when his old dame\ncame inside the kitchen, there she found him standing on his head in\nthe porridge-pot.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBUTTERCUP\n\nBY GEORGE WEBBE DASENT\n\n\nOnce on a time there was an old wife who sat and baked. Now you must\nknow that this old wife had a little son, who was so plump and fat,\nand so fond of good things, that they called him Buttercup; she had a\ndog, too, whose name was Goldtooth, and as she was baking, all at once\nGoldtooth began to bark.\n\n\"Run out, Buttercup, there's a dear!\" said the old wife, \"and see what\nGoldtooth is barking at.\"\n\nSo the boy ran out, and came back crying out,--\n\n\"Oh, Heaven help us! here comes a great big witch, with her head under\nher arm, and a bag at her back.\"\n\n\"Jump under the kneading-trough and hide yourself,\" said his mother.\n\nSo in came the old hag.\n\n\"Good day,\" said she.\n\n\"God bless you!\" said Buttercup's mother.\n\n\"Isn't your Buttercup at home to-day?\" asked the hag.\n\n\"No, that he isn't. He's out in the wood with his father, shooting\ngrouse.\"\n\n\"Plague take it,\" said the hag, \"for I had such a nice little silver\nknife I wanted to give him.\"\n\n\"Pip, pip! here I am,\" said Buttercup under the kneading-trough, and\nout he came.\n\n\"I'm so old and stiff in the back,\" said the hag, \"you must creep into\nthe bag and fetch it out for yourself.\"\n\nBut when Buttercup was well into the bag, the hag threw it over her\nback and strode off, and when they had gone a good bit of the way, the\nold hag got tired and asked,\n\n\"How far is it off to Snoring?\"\n\n\"Half a mile,\" answered Buttercup.\n\nSo the hag put down the sack on the road, and went aside by herself\ninto the wood, and lay down to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work\nand cut a hole in the sack with his knife; then he crept out and put a\ngreat root of a fir-tree into the sack, and ran home to his mother.\n\nWhen the hag got home and saw what there was in the sack, you may\nfancy she was in a fine rage.\n\nNext day the old wife sat and baked again, and her dog began to bark,\njust as he did the day before.\n\n\"Run out, Buttercup, my boy,\" said she, \"and see what Goldtooth is\nbarking at.\"\n\n\"Well, I never!\" cried Buttercup, as soon as he got out; \"if there\nisn't that ugly old beast coming again with her head under her arm and\na great sack at her back.\"\n\n\"Under the kneading-trough with you and hide,\" said his mother.\n\n\"Good day!\" said the hag; \"is your Buttercup at home to-day?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to say he isn't,\" said his mother; \"he's out in the wood\nwith his father, shooting grouse.\"\n\n\"What a bore!\" said the hag; \"here I have a beautiful little silver\nspoon I want to give him.\"\n\n\"Pip, pip! here I am,\" said Buttercup, and crept out.\n\n\"I'm so stiff in the back,\" said the old witch, \"you must creep into\nthe sack and fetch it out for yourself.\"\n\nSo when Buttercup was well into the sack, the hag swung it over her\nshoulders and set off home as fast as her legs could carry her. But\nwhen they had gone a good bit she grew weary, and asked,\n\n\"How far is it off to Snoring?\"\n\n\"A mile and a half,\" answered Buttercup.\n\nSo the hag set down the sack, and went aside into the wood to sleep\na bit, but while she slept Buttercup made a hole in the sack and got\nout, and put a great stone into it. Now, when the old witch got home,\nshe made a great fire on the hearth, and put a big pot on it, and got\neverything ready to boil Buttercup; but when she took the sack, and\nthought she was going to turn out Buttercup into the pot, down plumped\nthe stone and made a hole in the bottom of the pot, so that the water\nran out and quenched the fire. Then the old hag was in a dreadful\nrage, and said, \"If he makes himself ever so heavy next time, he\nshan't take me in again.\"\n\nThe third day everything went just as it had gone twice before;\nGoldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup's mother said to him,\n\n\"Do run out and see what our dog is barking at.\"\n\nSo out he went, but he soon came back crying out,\n\n\"Heaven save us! Here comes the old hag again with her head under her\narm and a sack at her back.\"\n\n\"Jump under the kneading-trough and hide,\" said his mother.\n\n\"Good day!\" said the hag, as she came in at the door; \"is your\nButtercup at home to-day?\"\n\n\"You're very kind to ask after him,\" said his mother; \"but he's out in\nthe wood with his father, shooting grouse.\"\n\n\"What a bore, now,\" said the old hag; \"here have I got such a\nbeautiful little silver fork for him.\"\n\n\"Pip, pip! here I am,\" said Buttercup, as he came out from under the\nkneading-trough.\n\n\"I'm so stiff in the back,\" said the hag, \"you must creep into the\nsack and fetch it out for yourself.\"\n\nBut when Buttercup was well inside the sack the old hag swung it\nacross her shoulders, and set off as fast as she could. This time she\ndid not turn aside to sleep by the way, but went straight home with\nButtercup in the sack, and when she reached her house it was Sunday.\n\nSo the old hag said to her daughter:\n\n\"Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and boil him nicely till I\ncome back, for I'm off to church to bid my guests to dinner.\"\n\nSo, when all in the house were gone to church, the daughter was to\ntake Buttercup and kill him, but then she didn't know how to set about\nit at all.\n\n\"Stop a bit,\" said Buttercup; \"I'll soon show you how to do it; just\nlay your head on the chopping-block, and you'll soon see.\"\n\nSo the poor silly thing laid her head down, and Buttercup took an axe\nand chopped her head off, just as if she had been a chicken. Then he\nlaid her head in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and boiled\nit so nicely; and when he had done that, he climbed up on the roof,\nand dragged up with him the fir-tree root and the stone, and put one\nover the door, and the other at the top of the chimney.\n\nSo when the household came back from church, and saw the head on the\nbed, they thought it was the daughter who lay there asleep; and then\nthey thought they would just taste the broth.\n\n \"Good, by my troth!\n Buttercup broth,\"\n\nsaid the old hag.\n\n \"Good, by my troth!\n Daughter broth,\"\n\nsaid Buttercup down the chimney, but no one heeded him.\n\nSo the old hag's husband, who was every bit as bad as she, took the\nspoon to have a taste.\n\n \"Good, by my troth!\n Buttercup broth,\"\n\nsaid he.\n\n \"Good, by my troth!\n Daughter broth,\"\n\nsaid Buttercup down the chimney pipe.\n\nThen they all began to wonder who it could be that chattered so, and\nran out to see. But when they came out at the door, Buttercup threw\ndown on them the fir-tree root and the stone, and broke all their\nheads to bits. After that he took all the gold and silver that lay in\nthe house, and went home to his mother, and became a rich man.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nGERMAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nSEVEN AT ONE BLOW\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nA tailor sat in his workroom one morning, stitching away busily at a\ncoat for the Lord Mayor. He whistled and sang so gaily that all the\nlittle boys who passed the shop on their way to school thought what a\nfine thing it was to be a tailor, and told one another that when they\ngrew to be men they'd be tailors, too.\n\n\"How hungry I feel, to be sure!\" cried the little man, at last; \"but\nI'm far too busy to trouble about eating. I must finish his lordship's\ncoat before I touch a morsel of food,\" and he broke once more into a\nmerry song.\n\n\"Fine new jam for sale,\" sang out an old woman, as she walked along\nthe street.\n\n\"Jam! I can't resist such a treat,\" said the tailor; and, running to\nthe door, he shouted, \"This way for jam, dame; show me a pot of your\nvery finest.\"\n\nThe woman handed him jar after jar, but he found fault with all. At\nlast he hit upon some to his liking.\n\n\"And how many pounds will you take, sir?\"\n\n\"I'll take four ounces,\" he replied, in a solemn tone, \"and mind you\ngive me good weight.\"\n\nThe old woman was very angry, for she had expected to sell several\npounds, at least; and she went off grumbling, after she had weighed\nout the four ounces.\n\n\"Now for a feed!\" cried the little man, taking a loaf from the\ncupboard as he spoke. He cut off a huge slice, and spread the jam on\nquite half an inch thick; then he suddenly remembered his work.\n\n\"It will never do to get jam on the Lord Mayor's coat, so I'll finish\nit off before I take even one bite,\" said he. So he picked up his work\nonce more, and his needle flew in and out like lightning.\n\nI am afraid the Lord Mayor had some stitches in his garment that were\nquite a quarter of an inch long.\n\nThe tailor glanced longingly at his slice of bread and jam once or\ntwice, but when he looked the third time it was quite covered with\nflies, and a fine feast they were having off it.\n\nThis was too much for the little fellow. Up he jumped, crying:\n\n\"So you think I provide bread and jam for you, indeed! Well, we'll\nvery soon see! Take that!\" and he struck the flies such a heavy blow\nwith a duster that no fewer than seven lay dead upon the table, while\nthe others flew up to the ceiling in great haste.\n\n\"Seven at one blow!\" said the little man with great pride. \"Such a\nbrave deed ought to be known all over the town, and it won't be my\nfault if folks fail to hear of it.\"\n\nSo he cut out a wide belt, and stitched on it in big golden letters\nthe words \"Seven at one blow.\" When this was done he fastened it round\nhim, crying:\n\n\"I'm cut out for something better than a tailor, it's quite clear. I'm\none of the world's great heroes, and I'll be off at once to seek my\nfortune.\"\n\nHe glanced round the cottage, but there was nothing of value to take\nwith him. The only thing he possessed in the world was a small cheese.\n\n\"You may as well come, too,\" said he, stowing away the cheese in his\npocket, \"and now I'm off.\"\n\nWhen he got into the street the neighbors all crowded round him to\nread the words on his belt.\n\n\"Seven at one blow!\" said they to one another. \"What a blessing he's\ngoing; for it wouldn't be safe to have a man about us who could kill\nseven of us at one stroke.\"\n\nYou see, they didn't know that the tailor had only killed flies; they\ntook it to mean men.\n\nHe jogged along for some miles until he came to a hedge, where a\nlittle bird was caught in the branches.\n\n\"Come along,\" said the tailor; \"I'll have you to keep my cheese\ncompany\"; so he caught the bird and put it carefully into his pocket\nwith the cheese.\n\nSoon he reached a lofty mountain, and he made up his mind to climb it\nand see what was going on at the other side. When he reached the top,\nthere stood a huge giant, gazing down into the valley below.\n\n\"Good day,\" said the tailor.\n\nThe giant turned round, and seeing nobody but the little tailor there,\nhe cried with scorn:\n\n\"And what might you be doing here, might I ask? You'd best be off at\nonce.\"\n\n\"Not so fast, my friend,\" said the little man; \"read this.\"\n\n\"Seven at one blow,\" read the giant, and he began to wish he'd been\nmore civil.\n\n\"Well, I'm sure nobody would think it to look at you,\" he replied;\n\"but since you are so clever, do this,\" and he picked up a stone and\nsqueezed it until water ran out.\n\n\"Do that! Why, it's mere child's play to me,\" and the man took out\nhis cheese and squeezed it until the whey ran from it. \"Now who is\ncleverer?\" asked the tailor. \"You see, I can squeeze milk out, while\nyou only get water.\"\n\nThe giant was too surprised to utter a word for a few minutes; then,\ntaking up another stone, he threw it so high into the air that for\na moment they couldn't see where it went; then down it fell to the\nground again.\n\n\"Good!\" said the tailor; \"but I'll throw a stone that won't come back\nagain at all.\"\n\nTaking the little bird from his pocket, he threw it into the air, and\nthe bird, glad to get away, flew right off and never returned.\n\nThis sort of thing didn't suit the giant at all, for he wasn't used to\nbeing beaten by any one.\n\n\"Here's something that you'll never manage,\" said he to the little\nman. \"Just come and help me to carry this fallen oak-tree for a few\nmiles.\"\n\n\"Delighted!\" said the tailor, \"and I'll take the end with the\nbranches, for it's sure to be heavier.\"\n\n\"Agreed,\" replied the giant, and he lifted the heavy trunk on to his\nshoulder, while the tailor climbed up among the branches at the\nother end, and sang with all his might, as though carrying a tree was\nnothing to him.\n\nThe poor giant, who was holding the tree-trunk and the little tailor\nas well, soon grew tired.\n\n\"I'm going to let it fall!\" he shouted, and the tailor jumped down\nfrom the branches, and pretended he had been helping all the time.\n\n\"The idea of a man your size finding a tree too heavy to carry!\"\nlaughed the little tailor.\n\n\"You are a clever little fellow, and no mistake,\" replied the giant,\n\"and if you'll only come and spend the night in our cave, we shall be\ndelighted to have you.\"\n\n\"I shall have great pleasure in coming, my friend,\" answered the\nlittle tailor, and together they set off for the giant's home.\n\nThere were seven more giants in the cave, and each one of them was\neating a roasted pig for his supper. They gave the little man some\nfood, and then showed him a bed in which he might pass the night.\nIt was so big that, after tossing about for half an hour in it, the\ntailor thought he would be more comfortable if he slept in the corner,\nso he crept out without being noticed.\n\nIn the middle of the night the giant stole out of bed and went up to\nthe one where he thought the little man was fast asleep. Taking a big\nbar of iron, he struck such a heavy blow at it that he woke up all the\nother giants.\n\n\"Keep quiet, friends,\" said he. \"I've just killed the little scamp.\"\n\nThe tailor made his escape as soon as possible, and he journeyed on\nfor many miles, until he began to feel very tired, so he lay down\nunder a tree, and was soon fast asleep. When he awoke, he found a big\ncrowd of people standing round him. Up walked one very wise-looking\nold man, who was really the King's prime minister.\n\n\"Is it true that you have killed seven at one blow?\" he asked\n\n\"It is a fact,\" answered the little tailor.\n\n\"Then come with me to the King, my friend, for he's been searching for\na brave man like you for some time past. You are to be made captain of\nhis army, and the King will give you a fine house to live in.\"\n\n\"That I will,\" replied the little man. \"It is just the sort of thing\nthat will suit me, and I'll come at once.\"\n\nHe hadn't been in the King's service long before every one grew\njealous of him. The soldiers were afraid that, if they offended him,\nhe would make short work of them all, while the members of the King's\nhousehold didn't fancy the idea of making such a fuss over a stranger.\n\nSo the soldiers went in a body to the King and asked that another\ncaptain should be put over them, for they were afraid of this one.\n\nThe King didn't like to refuse, for fear they should all desert, and\nyet he didn't dare get rid of the captain, in case such a strong and\nbrave man should try to have his revenge.\n\nAt last the King hit upon a plan. In some woods close by there lived\ntwo giants, who were the terror of the country side; they robbed all\nthe travelers, and if any resistance was offered they killed the men\non the spot.\n\nSending for the little tailor, he said:\n\n\"Knowing you to be the bravest man in my kingdom, I want to ask a\nfavor of you. If you will kill these two giants, and bring me back\nproof that they are dead, you shall marry the Princess, my daughter,\nand have half my kingdom. You shall also take one hundred men to help\nyou, and you are to set off at once.\"\n\n\"A hundred men, your Majesty! Pray, what do I want with a hundred men?\nIf I can kill seven at one blow, I needn't be afraid of two. I'll kill\nthem fast enough, never fear.\"\n\nThe tailor chose ten strong men, and told them to await him on the\nborder of the wood, while he went on quite alone. He could hear the\ngiants snoring for quite half an hour before he reached them, so he\nknew in which direction to go.\n\nHe found the pair fast asleep under a tree, so he filled his pockets\nwith stones and climbed up into the branches over their heads. Then he\nbegan to pelt one of the giants with the missiles, until after a few\nminutes one of the men awoke. Giving the other a rough push, he cried:\n\n\"If you strike me like that again, I'll know the reason why.\"\n\n\"I didn't touch you,\" said the other giant crossly, and they were soon\nfast asleep once more.\n\nThen the tailor threw stones at the other man, and soon he awoke as\nthe first had done.\n\n\"What did you throw that at me for?\" said he.\n\n\"You are dreaming,\" answered the other, \"I didn't throw anything.\"\n\nNo sooner were they fast asleep again, than the little man began to\npelt them afresh.\n\nUp they both sprang, and seizing each other, they began to fight in\nreal earnest. Not content with using their fists, they tore up huge\ntrees by the roots, and beat each other until very soon the pair lay\ndead on the ground.\n\nDown climbed the little tailor, and taking his sword in his hand he\nplunged it into each giant, and then went back to the edge of the\nforest where the ten men were waiting for him.\n\n\"They are as dead as two door nails,\" shouted the little man. \"I don't\nsay that I had an easy task, for they tore up trees by their roots to\ntry to protect themselves with, but, of course, it was no good. What\nwere two giants to a man who has slain seven at one blow?\"\n\nBut the men wouldn't believe it until they went into the forest and\nsaw the two dead bodies, lying each in a pool of blood, while the\nground was covered with uprooted trees.\n\nBack they went to the King, but instead of handing over half his\nkingdom, as he had promised, his Majesty told the little tailor that\nthere was still another brave deed for him to do before he got the\nPrincess for his bride.\n\n\"Just name it, then; I'm more than ready,\" was the man's reply.\n\n\"You are to kill the famous unicorn that is running wild in the forest\nand doing so much damage. When this is done you shall have your reward\nat once.\"\n\n\"No trouble at all, your Majesty. I'll get rid of him in a twinkling.\"\n\nHe made the ten men wait for him at the entrance to the wood as they\nhad done the first time, and taking a stout rope and a saw he entered\nthe forest alone.\n\nUp came the unicorn, but just as it was about to rush at the man he\ndarted behind a big tree.\n\nThe unicorn dashed with such force against the tree that its horn was\ncaught quite fast and it was kept a prisoner.\n\nTaking his rope, he tied it tightly round the animal, and, after\nsawing off the horn, back he went to the palace, leading the unicorn\nby his side.\n\nBut even then the King was not satisfied, and he made the little\ntailor catch a wild boar that had been seen wandering in the woods.\n\nHe took a party of huntsmen with him, but again he made them wait on\nthe outskirts of the forest while he went on by himself.\n\nThe wild boar made a dash at the little tailor; but the man was too\nquick for it. He slipped into a little building close by, with the\nanimal at his heels. Then, catching sight of a small window, he forced\nhis way out into the forest again, and while the boar, who was too\nbig and clumsy to follow, stood gazing at the spot where he had\ndisappeared, the tailor ran round and closed the door, keeping the\nanimal quite secure inside. Then he called the hunters, who shot the\nboar and carried the body back to the palace.\n\nThis time the King was obliged to keep his promise; so the little\ntailor became a Prince, and a grand wedding they had, too.\n\nWhen they had been married for about a couple of years, the Princess\nonce overheard her husband talking in his sleep.\n\n\"Boy, if you have put a patch on that waistcoat, take the Lord Mayor's\ncoat home at once, or I'll box your ears,\" he said.\n\n\"Oh, dear,\" cried the Princess, \"to think that I've married a common\ntailor! Whatever can I do to get rid of him?\"\n\nSo she told her father the story, and the King said she need not\nworry, for he would find a way out of the difficulty. She was to\nleave the door open that night, and while the tailor was sleeping, the\nKing's servants should steal into the room, bind the tailor, and take\nhim away to be killed.\n\nThe Princess promised to see that everything was in readiness, and she\ntripped about all day with a very light heart.\n\nShe little knew that one of the tailor's servants had overheard their\ncruel plot, and carried the news straight to his master.\n\nThat night, when the Princess thought her husband was sleeping fast,\nshe crept to the door and opened it.\n\nTo her great terror, the tailor began to speak.\n\n\"Boy, take the Lord Mayor's coat home, or I'll box your ears. Haven't\nI killed seven at one blow? Haven't I slain two giants, a unicorn, and\na wild boar? What do I care for the men who are standing outside my\ndoor at this moment?\"\n\nAt these words off flew the men as though they had been shot from a\ngun, and no more attempts were ever made on his life. So the Princess\nhad to make the best of a bad job.\n\nHe lived on and when the old King died he ascended the throne in his\nstead. So the brave little tailor became ruler over the whole kingdom;\nand his motto throughout his whole life was, \"Seven at one blow.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nONE EYE, TWO EYES, THREE EYES\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nThere was once a woman who had three daughters, of whom the eldest\nwas named \"One Eye,\" because she had only one eye in the middle of\nher forehead. The second had two eyes, like other people, and she was\ncalled \"Two Eyes.\" The youngest had three eyes, two like her second\nsister, and one in the middle of her forehead, like the eldest, and\nshe bore the name of \"Three Eyes.\"\n\nNow because little Two Eyes looked just like other people, her mother\nand sisters could not endure her. They said to her, \"You are not\nbetter than common folks, with your two eyes; you don't belong to us.\"\n\nSo they pushed her about, and threw all their old clothes to her for\nher to wear, and gave her only the pieces that were left to eat, and\ndid everything that they could to make her miserable. It so happened\nthat little Two Eyes was sent into the fields to take care of the\ngoats, and she was often very hungry, although her sisters had as much\nas they liked to eat. So one day she seated herself on a mound in the\nfield, and began to weep and cry so bitterly that two little rivulets\nflowed from her eyes. Once, in the midst of her sorrow she looked up,\nand saw a woman standing near her who said, \"What are you weeping for,\nlittle Two Eyes?\"\n\n\"I cannot help weeping,\" she replied; \"for because I have two eyes,\nlike other people, my mother and sisters cannot bear me; they push me\nabout from one corner to another and make me wear their old clothes,\nand give me nothing to eat but what is left, so that I am always\nhungry. To-day they gave me so little that I am nearly starved.\"\n\n\"Dry up your tears, little Two Eyes,\" said the wise woman; \"I will\ntell you something to do which will prevent you from ever being hungry\nagain. You have only to say to your own goat:\n\n \"'Little goat, if you're able,\n Pray deck out my table,'\n\nand immediately there will be a pretty little table before you full of\nall sorts of good things for you to eat, as much as you like. And when\nyou have had enough, and you do not want the table any more, you need\nonly say:\n\n \"'Little goat, when you're able,\n Remove my nice table,'\n\nand it will vanish from your eyes.\"\n\nThen the wise woman went away. \"Now,\" thought little Two Eyes, \"I will\ntry if what she says is true, for I am hungry,\" so she said:\n\n \"Little goat, if you're able,\n Come and deck my pretty table.\"\n\nThe words were scarcely spoken, when a beautiful little table stood\nreally before her; it had a white cloth and plates, and knives and\nforks, and silver spoons, and such a delicious dinner, smoking hot as\nif it had just come from the kitchen. Then little Two Eyes sat down\nand said the shortest grace she knew--\"Pray God be our guest for all\ntime. Amen\"--before she allowed herself to taste anything. But oh, how\nshe did enjoy her dinner! and when she had finished, she said, as the\nwise woman had taught her:\n\n \"Little goat, when you're able,\n Remove my nice table.\"\n\nIn a moment, the table and everything upon it had disappeared. \"That\nis a pleasant way to keep house,\" said little Two Eyes, and felt quite\ncontented and happy. In the evening, when she went home with the goat,\nshe found an earthenware dish with some scraps which her sisters had\nleft for her, but she did not touch them. The next morning she went\naway with the goat, leaving them behind where they had been placed for\nher. The first and second times that she did so, the sisters did not\nnotice it; but when they found it happened every day, they said one\nto the other, \"There is something strange about little Two Eyes, she\nleaves her supper every day, and all that has been put for her has\nbeen wasted; she must get food somewhere else.\"\n\nSo they determined to find out the truth, and they arranged that when\nTwo Eyes took her goat to the field, One Eye should go with her to\ntake particular notice of what she did, and discover if anything was\nbrought for her to eat and drink.\n\nSo when Two Eyes started with her goat, One Eye said to her, \"I am\ngoing with you to-day to see if the goat gets her food properly while\nyou are watching the rest.\"\n\nBut Two Eyes knew what she had in her mind. So she drove the goat into\nthe long grass, and said, \"Come, One Eye, let us sit down here and\nrest, and I will sing to you.\"\n\nOne Eye seated herself, and, not being accustomed to walk so far,\nor to be out in the heat of the sun, she began to feel tired, and as\nlittle Two Eyes kept on singing, she closed her one eye and fell fast\nasleep.\n\nWhen Two Eyes saw this, she knew that One Eye could not betray her, so\nshe said:\n\n \"Little goat, if you are able,\n Come and deck my pretty table.\"\n\nShe seated herself when it appeared, and ate and drank very quickly,\nand when she had finished she said:\n\n \"Little goat, when you are able,\n Come and clear away my table.\"\n\nIt vanished in the twinkling of an eye; and then Two Eyes woke up One\nEye, and said: \"Little One Eye, you are a clever one to watch goats;\nfor, while you are asleep, they might be running all over the world.\nCome, let us go home!\"\n\nSo they went to the house, and little Two Eyes again left the scraps\non the dish untouched, and One Eye could not tell her mother whether\nlittle Two Eyes had eaten anything in the field; for she said to\nexcuse herself, \"I was asleep.\"\n\nThe next day the mother said to Three Eyes, \"You must go to the field\nthis time, and find out whether there is anyone who brings food to\nlittle Two Eyes; for she must eat and drink secretly.\"\n\nSo when little Two Eyes started with her goat, Three Eyes followed and\nsaid, \"I am going with you to-day, to see if the goats are properly\nfed and watched.\"\n\nBut Two Eyes knew her thoughts; so she led the goat through the long\ngrass to tire Three Eyes, and at last she said, \"Let us sit down here\nand rest, and I will sing to you, Three Eyes.\"\n\nShe was glad to sit down, for the walk and the heat of the sun had\nreally tired her; and, as her sister continued her song, she was\nobliged to close two of her eyes, and they slept, but not the third.\nIn fact, Three Eyes was wide awake with one eye, and heard and saw all\nthat Two Eyes did; for poor little Two Eyes, thinking she was asleep,\nsaid her speech to the goat, and the table came with all the good\nthings on it, and was carried away when Two Eyes had eaten enough; and\nthe cunning Three Eyes saw it all with her one eye. But she pretended\nto be asleep when her sister came to wake her and told her she was\ngoing home.\n\nThat evening, when little Two Eyes again left the supper they placed\naside for her, Three Eyes said to her mother, \"I know where the proud\nthing gets her good eating and drinking;\" and then she described all\nshe had seen in the field. \"I saw it all with one eye,\" she said;\n\"for she had made my other two eyes close with her fine singing, but\nluckily the one in my forehead remained open.\"\n\nThen the envious mother cried out to poor little Two Eyes, \"You wish\nto have better food than we, do you? You shall lose your wish!\" She\ntook up a butcher's knife, went out, and stuck the good little goat in\nthe heart, and it fell dead.\n\nWhen little Two Eyes saw this, she went out into the field, seated\nherself on a mound, and wept most bitter tears.\n\nPresently the wise woman stood again before her, and said, \"Little Two\nEyes, why do you weep?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" she replied, \"I must weep. The goat, who every day spread my\ntable so beautifully, has been killed by my mother, and I shall have\nagain to suffer from hunger and sorrow.\"\n\n\"Little Two Eyes,\" said the wise woman, \"I will give you some good\nadvice. Go home, and ask your sister to give you the heart of the\nslaughtered goat, and then go and bury it in the ground in front of\nthe house-door.\"\n\nOn saying this the wise woman vanished.\n\nLittle Two Eyes went home quickly, and said to her sister, \"Dear\nsister, give me some part of my poor goat. I don't want anything\nvaluable; only give me the heart.\"\n\nHer sister laughed, and said: \"Of course you can have that if you\ndon't want anything else.\"\n\nSo little Two Eyes took the heart; and in the evening, when all was\nquiet, buried it in the ground outside the house-door, as the wise\nwoman had told her to do.\n\nThe next morning, when they all rose and looked out of the window,\nthere stood a most wonderful tree, with leaves of silver and apples\nof gold hanging between them. Nothing in the wide world could be more\nbeautiful or more costly. They none of them knew how the tree could\ncome there in one night, excepting little Two Eyes. She supposed it\nhad grown up from the heart of the goat; for it stood over where she\nhad buried it in the earth.\n\nThen said the mother to little One Eye, \"Climb up, my child, and break\noff some of the fruit from the tree.\"\n\nOne Eye climbed up, but when she tried to catch a branch and pluck one\nof the apples, it escaped from her hand, and so it happened every time\nshe made the attempt, and, do what she would, she could not reach one.\n\n\"Three Eyes,\" said the mother, \"climb up, and try what you can do;\nperhaps you will be able to see better with your three eyes than One\nEye can.\"\n\nOne Eye slid down from the tree, and Three Eyes climbed up. But Three\nEyes was not more skilful; with all her efforts she could not draw the\nbranches, nor the fruit, near enough to pluck even a leaf, for they\nsprang back as she put out her hand.\n\nAt last the mother was impatient, and climbed up herself, but with no\nmore success, for, as she appeared to grasp a branch, or fruit, her\nhand closed upon thin air.\n\n\"May I try?\" said little Two Eyes; \"perhaps I may succeed.\"\n\n\"You, indeed!\" cried her sisters; \"you, with your two eyes, what can\nyou do?\"\n\nBut Two Eyes climbed up, and the golden apples did not fly back from\nher when she touched them, but almost laid themselves on her hand,\nand she plucked them one after another, till she carried down her own\nlittle apron full.\n\nThe mother took them from her, and gave them to her sisters, as she\nsaid little Two Eyes did not handle them properly, but this was only\nfrom jealousy, because little Two Eyes was the only one who could\nreach the fruit, and she went into the house feeling more spiteful to\nher than ever.\n\nIt happened that while all three sisters were standing under the tree\ntogether a young knight rode by. \"Run away, quick, and hide yourself,\nlittle Two Eyes; hide yourself somewhere, for we shall be quite\nashamed for you to be seen.\" Then they pushed the poor girl, in great\nhaste, under an empty cask, which stood near the tree, and several of\nthe golden apples that she had plucked along with her.\n\nAs the knight came nearer they saw he was a handsome man; and\npresently he halted, and looked with wonder and pleasure at the\nbeautiful tree with its silver leaves and golden fruit.\n\nAt last he spoke to the sisters, and asked: \"To whom does this\nbeautiful tree belong? If a man possessed only one branch he might\nobtain all he wished for in the world.\"\n\n\"This tree belongs to us,\" said the two sisters, \"and we will break\noff a branch for you if you like.\" They gave themselves a great deal\nof trouble in trying to do as they offered; but all to no purpose,\nfor the branches and the fruit evaded their efforts, and sprung back\nat every touch.\n\n\"This is wonderful,\" exclaimed the knight, \"that the tree should\nbelong to you, and yet you are not able to gather even a branch.\"\n\nThey persisted, however, in declaring that the tree was their own\nproperty. At this moment little Two Eyes, who was angry because her\nsisters had not told the truth, caused two of the golden apples to\nslip out from under the cask, and they rolled on till they reached the\nfeet of the knight's horse. When he saw them, he asked in astonishment\nwhere they came from.\n\nThe two ugly maidens replied that they had another sister, but they\ndared not let him see her, for she had only two eyes, like common\npeople, and was named little Two Eyes.\n\nBut the knight felt very anxious to see her, and called out, \"Little\nTwo Eyes, come here.\" Then came Two Eyes, quite comforted, from the\nempty cask, and the knight was astonished to find her so beautiful.\n\nThen he said: \"Little Two Eyes, can you break off a branch of the tree\nfor me?\"\n\n\"Oh yes,\" she replied, \"I can, very easily, for the tree belongs to\nme.\" And she climbed up, and, without any trouble, broke off a branch\nwith its silver leaves and golden fruit and gave it to the knight.\n\nHe looked down at her as she stood by his horse, and said: \"Little Two\nEyes, what shall I give you for this?\"\n\n\"Ah!\" she answered, \"I suffer from hunger and thirst, and sorrow, and\ntrouble, from early morning till late at night; if you would only take\nme with you, and release me, I should be so happy.\"\n\nThen the knight lifted the little maiden on his horse, and rode home\nwith her to his father's castle. There she was given beautiful clothes\nto wear, and as much to eat and drink as she wished, and as she grew\nup the young knight loved her so dearly that they were married with\ngreat rejoicings.\n\nNow, when the two sisters saw little Two Eyes carried away by the\nhandsome young knight, they were overjoyed at their good fortune. \"The\nwonderful tree belongs to us now,\" they said; \"even if we cannot break\noff a branch, yet everybody who passes will stop to admire it, and\nmake acquaintance with us, and, who knows? we may get husbands after\nall.\"\n\nBut when they rose the next morning, lo! the tree had vanished, and\nwith it all their hopes. And on this very morning, when little Two\nEyes looked out of her chamber window of the castle, she saw, to her\ngreat joy, that the tree had followed her.\n\nLittle Two Eyes lived for a long time in great happiness; but she\nheard nothing of her sisters, till one day two poor women came to\nthe castle, to beg for alms. Little Two Eyes saw them, and, looking\nearnestly in their faces, she recognized her two sisters, who had\nbecome so poor that they were obliged to beg their bread from door to\ndoor.\n\nBut the good sister received them most kindly, and promised to take\ncare of them and give them all they wanted. And then they did indeed\nrepent and feel sorry for having treated her so badly in their\nyouthful days.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MUSICIANS OF BREMEN\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nA certain man had a donkey that had served him faithfully for many\nlong years, but whose strength was so far gone that at last he was\nquite unfit for work. So his master began to consider how much he\ncould make of the donkey's skin, but the beast, perceiving that no\ngood wind was blowing, ran away along the road to Bremen. \"There,\"\nthought he, \"I can be town musician.\" When he had run some way, he\nfound a hound lying by the roadside, yawning like one who was very\ntired. \"What are you yawning for now, you big fellow?\" asked the ass.\n\n\"Ah,\" replied the hound, \"because every day I grow older and weaker; I\ncannot go any more to the hunt, and my master has well-nigh beaten me\nto death, so that I took to flight; and now I do not know how to earn\nmy bread.\"\n\n\"Well, do you know,\" said the ass, \"I am going to Bremen, to be town\nmusician there; suppose you go with me and take a share in the music.\nI will play on the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrums.\" The dog\nwas satisfied, and off they set.\n\nPresently they came to a cat, sitting in the middle of the path, with\na face like three rainy days! \"Now, then, old shaver, what has crossed\nyou?\" asked the ass.\n\n\"How can one be merry when one's neck has been pinched like mine?\"\nanswered the cat. \"Because I am growing old, and my teeth are all worn\nto stumps, and because I would rather sit by the fire and spin, than\nrun after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me; and so I ran away. But\nnow good advice is dear, and I do not know what to do.\"\n\n\"Go with us to Bremen. You understand nocturnal music, so you can\nbe town musician.\" The cat consented, and went with them. The three\nvagabonds soon came near a farmyard, where, upon the barn door, the\ncock was sitting crowing with all his might. \"You crow through marrow\nand bone,\" said the ass; \"what do you do that for?\"\n\n\"That is the way I prophesy fine weather,\" said the cock; \"but because\ngrand guests are coming for the Sunday, the housewife has no pity, and\nhas told the cook-maid to make me into soup for the morrow; and this\nevening my head will be cut off. Now I am crowing with a full throat\nas long as I can.\"\n\n\"Ah, but you, Red-comb,\" replied the ass, \"rather come away with us.\nWe are going to Bremen, to find there something better than death;\nyou have a good voice, and if we make music together it will have full\nplay.\"\n\nThe cock consented to this plan, and so all four traveled on together.\nThey could not, however, reach Bremen in one day, and at evening they\ncame into a forest, where they meant to pass the night. The ass and\nthe dog laid themselves down under a large tree, the cat and the cock\nclimbed up into the branches, but the latter flew right to the top,\nwhere he was most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked all round\nthe four quarters, and soon thought he saw a little spark in the\ndistance; so, calling his companions, he said they were not far from\na house, for he saw a light. The ass said: \"If it is so, we had better\nget up and go farther, for the pasturage here is very bad\"; and the\ndog continued: \"Yes, indeed! a couple of bones with some meat on would\nbe very acceptable!\" So they made haste toward the spot where the\nlight was, and which shone now brighter and brighter, until they came\nto a well-lighted robber's cottage. The ass, as the biggest, went to\nthe window and peeped in. \"What do you see, Gray-horse?\" asked the\ncock. \"What do I see?\" replied the ass; \"a table laid out with savory\nmeats and drinks, with robbers sitting around enjoying themselves.\"\n\n\"That would be the right sort of thing for us,\" said the cock.\n\n\"Yes, yes, I wish we were there,\" replied the ass. Then these animals\ntook counsel together how they should contrive to drive away the\nrobbers, and at last they thought of a way. The ass placed his\nforefeet upon the window ledge, the hound got on his back, the cat\nclimbed up upon the dog, and, lastly, the cock flew up and perched\nupon the head of the cat. When this was accomplished, at a given\nsignal they commenced together to perform their music: the ass brayed,\nthe dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock crew; and they made such\na tremendous noise, and so loud, that the panes of the window were\nshivered! Terrified at these unearthly sounds, the robbers got up with\ngreat precipitation, thinking nothing less than that some spirits had\ncome, and fled off into the forest, so the four companions immediately\nsat down at the table, and quickly ate up all that was left, as if\nthey had been fasting for six weeks.\n\nAs soon as they had finished, they extinguished the light, and each\nsought for himself a sleeping-place, according to his nature and\ncustom. The ass laid himself down upon some straw, the hound behind\nthe door, the cat upon the hearth, near the warm ashes, and the cock\nflew up on a beam which ran across the room. Weary with their long\nwalk, they soon went to sleep.\n\nAt midnight the robbers perceived from their retreat that no light was\nburning in their house, and all appeared quiet; so the captain said:\n\"We need not have been frightened into fits\"; and, calling one of the\nband, he sent him forward to reconnoiter. The messenger, finding\nall still, went into the kitchen to strike a light, and, taking the\nglistening, fiery eyes of the cat for live coals, he held a\nlucifer match to them, expecting it to take fire. But the cat, not\nunderstanding the joke, flew in his face, spitting and scratching,\nwhich dreadfully frightened him, so that he made for the back door;\nbut the dog, who laid there, sprang up and bit his leg; and as he\nlimped upon the straw where the ass was stretched out, it gave him\na powerful kick with its hind foot. This was not all, for the cock,\nawaking at the noise, clapped his wings, and cried from the beam:\n\"Cock-a-doodle-doo, cock-a-doodle-do!\"\n\nThen the robber ran back as well as he could to his captain, and said:\n\"Ah, my master, there dwells a horrible witch in the house, who spat\non me and scratched my face with her long nails; and then before the\ndoor stands a man with a knife, who chopped at my leg; and in the yard\nthere lies a black monster, who beat me with a great wooden club; and\nbesides all, upon the roof sits a judge, who called out, 'Bring the\nknave up, do!' so I ran away as fast as I could.\"\n\nAfter this the robbers dared not again go near their house; but\neverything prospered so well with the four town musicians of Bremen,\nthat they did not forsake their situation! And there they are to this\nday, for anything I know.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nThere was once a fisherman who lived with his wife in a miserable\nlittle hovel close to the sea. He went to fish every day, and he\nfished and fished, and at last one day, when he was sitting looking\ndeep down into the shining water, he felt something on his line. When\nhe hauled it up there was a great flounder on the end of the line. The\nflounder said to him: \"Look here, fisherman, don't you kill me; I am\nno common flounder, I am an enchanted prince! What good will it do you\nto kill me? I sha'n't be good to eat; put me back into the water, and\nleave me to swim about.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the fisherman, \"you need not make so many words about it.\nI am quite ready to put back a flounder that can talk.\" And so saying,\nhe put back the flounder into the shining water, and it sank down to\nthe bottom, leaving a streak of blood behind it.\n\nThen the fisherman got up and went back to his wife in the hovel.\n\"Husband,\" she said, \"hast thou caught nothing to-day?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the man; \"all I caught was one flounder, and he said he was\nan enchanted prince, so I let him go swim again.\"\n\n\"Didst thou not wish for anything then?\" asked the good wife.\n\n\"No,\" said the man; \"what was there to wish for?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said his wife; \"isn't it bad enough always to live in this\nwretched hovel? Thou mightest at least have wished for a nice clean\ncottage. Go back and call him; tell him I want a pretty cottage; he\nwill surely give us that!\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the man, \"what am I to go back there for?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the woman, \"it was thou who caught him and let him go\nagain; for certain he will do that for thee. Be off now!\"\n\nThe man was still not very willing to go, but he did not want to vex\nhis wife, and at last he went back to the sea.\n\nHe found the sea no longer bright and shining, but dull and green. He\nstood by it and said:\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\nThe flounder came swimming up, and said: \"Well, what do you want?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the man; \"I had to call you, for my wife said I ought to\nhave wished for something, as I caught you. She doesn't want to live\nin our miserable hovel any longer; she wants a pretty cottage.\"\n\n\"Go home again, then,\" said the flounder; \"she has her wish fully.\"\n\nThe man went home and found his wife no longer in the old hut, but a\npretty little cottage stood in its place, and his wife was sitting on\na bench by the door.\n\nShe took him by the hand, and said: \"Come and look in here--isn't this\nmuch better?\"\n\nThey went inside and found a pretty sitting-room, and a bedroom with\na bed in it, a kitchen, and a larder furnished with everything of the\nbest in tin and brass, and every possible requisite. Outside there\nwas a little yard with chickens and ducks, and a little garden full of\nvegetables and fruit.\n\n\"Look!\" said the woman, \"is not this nice?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the man; \"and so let it remain. We can live here very\nhappily.\"\n\n\"We will see about that,\" said the woman, and with that they ate\nsomething and went to bed.\n\nEverything went well for a week or more, and then said the wife:\n\"Listen, husband; this cottage is too cramped, and the garden is too\nsmall. The flounder might have given us a bigger house. I want to live\nin a big stone castle. Go to the flounder, and tell him to give us a\ncastle.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife!\" said the man; \"the cottage is good enough for us; what\nshould we do with a castle?\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" said his wife; \"do thou but go to the flounder, and he\nwill manage it.\"\n\n\"Nay, wife,\" said the man; \"the flounder gave us the cottage. I don't\nwant to go back; as likely as not he'll be angry.\"\n\n\"Go, all the same,\" said the woman. \"He can do it easily enough, and\nwillingly into the bargain. Just go!\"\n\nThe man's heart was heavy, and he was very unwilling to go. He said to\nhimself: \"It's not right.\" But at last he went.\n\nHe found the sea was no longer green; it was still calm, but dark\nviolet and gray. He stood by it and said:\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\n\"Now, what do you want?\" said the flounder.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the man, half scared, \"my wife wants a big stone castle.\"\n\n\"Go home again,\" said the flounder; \"she is standing at the door of\nit.\"\n\nThen the man went away, thinking he would find no house, but when he\ngot back he found a great stone palace, and his wife standing at the\ntop of the steps, waiting to go in.\n\nShe took him by the hand and said, \"Come in with me.\"\n\nWith that they went in and found a great hall paved with marble slabs,\nand numbers of servants in attendance, who opened the great doors for\nthem. The walls were hung with beautiful tapestries, and the rooms\nwere furnished with golden chairs and tables, while rich carpets\ncovered the floors, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings.\nThe tables groaned under every kind of delicate food and the most\ncostly wines. Outside the house there was a great courtyard, with\nstabling for horses, and cows, and many fine carriages. Beyond this\nthere was a great garden filled with the loveliest flowers, and fine\nfruit trees. There was also a park, half a mile long, and in it were\nstags and hinds, and hares, and everything of the kind one could wish\nfor.\n\n\"Now,\" said the woman, \"is not this worth having?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said the man; \"and so let it remain. We will live in this\nbeautiful palace and be content.\"\n\n\"We will think about that,\" said his wife, \"and sleep upon it.\"\n\nWith that they went to bed.\n\nNext morning the wife woke up first; day was just dawning, and from\nher bed she could see the beautiful country around her. Her husband\nwas still asleep, but she pushed him with her elbow, and said,\n\"Husband, get up and peep out of the window. See here, now, could we\nnot be king over all this land? Go to the flounder. We will be king.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" said the man, \"what should we be king for? I don't want\nto be king.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said his wife, \"if thou wilt not be king, I will. Go to the\nflounder. I will be king.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" said the man, \"whatever dost thou want to be king for? I\ndon't like to tell him.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" said the woman. \"Go thou must. I will be king.\"\n\nSo the man went; but he was quite sad because his wife would be king.\n\n\"It is not right,\" he said; \"it is not right.\"\n\nWhen he reached the sea, he found it dark, gray, and rough, and\nevil-smelling. He stood there and said:\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\n\"Now, what does she want?\" said the flounder.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the man, \"she wants to be king now.\"\n\n\"Go back. She is king already,\" said the flounder.\n\nSo the man went back, and when he reached the palace he found that it\nhad grown much larger, and a great tower had been added, with handsome\ndecorations. There was a sentry at the door, and numbers of soldiers\nwere playing drums and trumpets. As soon as he got inside the house,\nhe found everything was marble and gold; and the hangings were of\nvelvet, with great golden tassels. The doors of the saloon were thrown\nwide open and he saw the whole court assembled. His wife was sitting\non a lofty throne of gold and diamonds; she wore a golden crown, and\ncarried in one hand a scepter of pure gold. On each side of her stood\nher ladies in a long row, each one a head shorter than the next.\n\nHe stood before her, and said, \"Alas, wife, art thou now king?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said; \"now I am king.\"\n\nHe stood looking at her for some time, and then he said, \"Ah, wife,\nit is a fine thing for thee to be king; now we will not wish to be\nanything more.\"\n\n\"Nay, husband,\" she answered, quite uneasily, \"I find the time hangs\nvery heavy on my hands. I can't bear it any longer. Go back to the\nflounder. King I am, but I must also be emperor.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" said the man, \"why dost thou now want to be emperor?\"\n\n\"Husband,\" she answered, \"go to the flounder. Emperor I will be.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" said the man, \"emperor he can't make thee, and I won't\nask him. There is only one emperor in the country; and emperor the\nflounder cannot make thee, that he can't.\"\n\n\"What?\" said the woman. \"I am king, and thou art but my husband. To\nhim thou must go, and that right quickly. If he can make a king, he\ncan also make an emperor. Emperor I will be, so quickly go.\"\n\nHe had to go, but he was quite frightened. And as he went, he thought,\n\"This won't end well; emperor is too shameless. The flounder will make\nan end of the whole thing.\"\n\nWith that he came to the sea, but now he found it quite black, and\nheaving up from below in great waves. It tossed to and fro, and a\nsharp wind blew over it, and the man trembled. So he stood there, and\nsaid:\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\n\"What does she want now?\" said the flounder.\n\n\"Alas, flounder,\" he said, \"my wife wants to be emperor.\"\n\n\"Go back,\" said the flounder. \"She is emperor.\"\n\nSo the man went back, and when he got to the door, he found that the\nwhole palace was made of polished marble, with alabaster figures and\ngolden decorations. Soldiers marched up and down before the doors,\nblowing their trumpets and beating their drums. Inside the palace,\ncounts, barons, and dukes walked about as attendants, and they opened\nto him the doors, which were of pure gold.\n\nHe went in, and saw his wife sitting on a huge throne made of solid\ngold. It was at least two miles high. She had on her head a great\ngolden crown, set with diamonds, three yards high. In one hand she\nheld the scepter, and in the other the ball of empire. On each side of\nher stood the gentlemen-at-arms in two rows, each one a little smaller\nthan the other, from giants two miles high, down to the tiniest dwarf\nno bigger than my little finger. She was surrounded by princes and\ndukes.\n\nHer husband stood still, and said, \"Wife, art thou now emperor?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she; \"now I am emperor.\"\n\nThen he looked at her for some time, and said, \"Alas, wife, how much\nbetter off art thou for being emperor?\"\n\n\"Husband,\" she said, \"what art thou standing there for? Now I am\nemperor, I mean to be pope! Go back to the flounder.\"\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" said the man, \"what wilt thou not want? Pope thou canst\nnot be. There is only one pope in Christendom. That's more than the\nflounder can do.\"\n\n\"Husband,\" she said, \"pope I will be; so go at once. I must be pope\nthis very day.\"\n\n\"No, wife,\" he said, \"I dare not tell him. It's no good; it's too\nmonstrous altogether. The flounder cannot make thee pope.\"\n\n\"Husband,\" said the woman, \"don't talk nonsense. If he can make an\nemperor, he can make a pope. Go immediately. I am emperor, and thou\nart but my husband, and thou must obey.\"\n\nSo he was frightened, and went; but he was quite dazed. He shivered\nand shook, and his knees trembled.\n\nA great wind arose over the land, the clouds flew across the sky,\nand it grew as dark as night; the leaves fell from the trees, and the\nwater foamed and dashed upon the shore. In the distance the ships were\nbeing tossed to and fro on the waves, and he heard them firing signals\nof distress. There was still a little patch of blue in the sky among\nthe dark clouds, but toward the south they were red and heavy, as in a\nbad storm. In despair, he stood and said;\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\n\"Now, what does she want?\" said the flounder.\n\n\"Alas\" said the man, \"she wants to be pope.\"\n\n\"Go back. Pope she is,\" said the flounder.\n\nSo back he went, and he found a great church, surrounded with palaces.\nHe pressed through the crowd, and inside he found thousands and\nthousand of lights, and his wife, entirely clad in gold, was sitting\non a still higher throne, with three golden crowns upon her head, and\nshe was surrounded with priestly state. On each side of her were two\nrows of candles, the biggest as thick as a tower, down to the tiniest\nlittle taper. Kings and emperors were on their knees before her,\nkissing her shoe.\n\n\"Wife,\" said the man, looking at her, \"art thou now pope?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she; \"now I am pope.\"\n\nSo there he stood gazing at her, and it was like looking at a shining\nsun.\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" he said, \"art thou better off for being pope?\" At first\nshe sat as stiff as a post, without stirring. Then he said, \"Now,\nwife, be content with being pope; higher thou canst not go.\"\n\n\"I will think about that,\" said the woman, and with that they both\nwent to bed. Still she was not content, and could not sleep for her\ninordinate desires. The man slept well and soundly, for he had walked\nabout a great deal in the day; but his wife could think of nothing\nbut what further grandeur she could demand. When the dawn reddened the\nsky, she raised herself up in bed and looked out of the window, and\nwhen she saw the sun rise she said:\n\n\"Ha! can I not cause the sun and the moon to rise? Husband!\" she\ncried, digging her elbow into his side, \"wake up and go to the\nflounder. I will be lord of the universe.\"\n\nHer husband, who was still more than half asleep, was so shocked that\nhe fell out of bed. He thought he must have heard wrong. He rubbed his\neyes and said:\n\n\"Alas, wife, what didst thou say?\"\n\n\"Husband,\" she said, \"if I cannot be lord of the universe, and cause\nthe sun and moon to set and rise, I shall not be able to bear it. I\nshall never have another happy moment.\"\n\nShe looked at him so wildly that it caused a shudder to run through\nhim.\n\n\"Alas, wife,\" he said, falling on his knees before her, \"the flounder\ncan't do that. Emperor and pope he can make, but that is indeed beyond\nhim. I pray thee, control thyself and remain pope.\"\n\nThen she flew into a terrible rage. Her hair stood on end; she panted\nfor breath, and screamed:\n\n\"I won't bear it any longer; wilt thou go?\"\n\nThen he pulled on his trousers and tore away like a madman. Such a\nstorm was raging that he could hardly keep his feet; houses and trees\nquivered and swayed, mountains trembled, and the rocks rolled into the\nsea. The sky was pitchy black; it thundered and lightened, and the\nsea ran in black waves, mountains high, crested with white foam. He\nshrieked out, but could hardly make himself heard:\n\n \"Flounder, flounder in the sea,\n Prythee, hearken unto me:\n My wife, Ilsebil, will have her own way\n Whatever I wish, whatever I say.\"\n\n\"Now, what does she want?\" asked the flounder.\n\n\"Alas,\" he said, \"she wants to be Lord of the Universe.\"\n\n\"Now she must go back to her old hovel,\" said the flounder; \"and there\nyou will find her.\"\n\nAnd there they are to this very day!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE SNOW-WHITE\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nOnce upon a time it was the middle of winter; the flakes of snow were\nfalling like feathers from the sky; a Queen sat at a window sewing,\nand the frame of the window was made of black ebony. As she was sewing\nand looking out of the window at the snow, she pricked her finger with\nthe needle, and three drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red\nlooked pretty upon the white snow, and she thought to herself:\n\n\"Would that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as\nblack as the wood of the window-frame!\" Soon after that she had a\nlittle daughter, who was as white as snow, and as red as blood, and\nher hair was as black as ebony; so she was called Little Snow-white.\nAnd when the child was born, the Queen died.\n\nA year after, the King took to himself another wife. She was beautiful\nbut proud, and she could not bear to have any one else more beautiful.\nShe had a wonderful Looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it,\nand looked at herself in it, and said:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nthe Looking-glass answered:\n\n \"Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all!\"\n\nAt last she was well pleased, for she knew the Looking-glass spoke the\ntruth.\n\nNow Snow-white grew up, and became more and more beautiful; and when\nshe was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day, and more\nbeautiful than the Queen herself. And once when the queen asked her\nLooking-glass:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nit answered:\n\n \"Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen,\n But more beautiful by far is Snow-white, I ween.\"\n\nThen the Queen was angry, and turned green with envy. From that hour,\nwhenever she looked at Snow-white, her breath came and went, she hated\nthe girl so much.\n\nAnd envy grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed, so that she\nhad no peace day or night. She called a huntsman, and said:\n\n\"Take the child away into the wood; I will no longer have her in my\nsight. Kill her, and bring me back her heart as a token.\" The huntsman\ndid as he was told, and took her away; but when he had drawn his knife,\nand was about to pierce Snow-white's little heart, she began to weep,\nand said:\n\n\"Ah, dear huntsman, leave me my life! I will run away into the wild\nwood, and never come home again.\"\n\nAnd as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and said:\n\n\"Run away, then, you poor child.\" The wild beasts will soon kill her,\nthought he; and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his\nheart, since it was no longer needful for him to kill her. As a young\nboar just then came running by he stabbed it, and cut out its heart\nand took it to the Queen as a proof that the child was dead. The cook\nhad to salt this, and the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had\neaten the heart of Snow-white.\n\nBut now the poor child was all alone in the great wood, and so afraid\nthat she started at every bush, and did not know what to do. Then she\nbegan to run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and the\nwild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm.\n\nShe ran as long as her feet would go, until it was almost evening;\nthen she saw a little cottage, and went into it to rest herself.\nEverything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than\ncan be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and seven\nlittle plates, and by each plate was a little spoon; there were seven\nlittle knives and forks, and seven little mugs. Against the wall stood\nseven little beds side by side, covered with snow-white coverlets.\n\nLittle Snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some fruit\nand bread from each plate, and drank a drop of milk out of each mug,\nfor she did not wish to take all from one only. Then, as she was so\ntired, she lay down on one of the little beds, but none of them suited\nher; one was too long, another too short; but at last she found the\nseventh one was just right, and so she stayed in it, said her prayers,\nand went to sleep.\n\nWhen it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back; they\nwere seven dwarfs who dug in the hills for gold. They lit their seven\ncandles, and as it was now light within the cottage they could see\nthat some one had been there, for everything was not in the same order\nin which they had left it.\n\nThe first said, \"Who has been sitting on my chair?\"\n\nThe second, \"Who has been eating off my plate?\"\n\nThe third, \"Who has been taking some of my bread?\"\n\nThe fourth, \"Who has been eating my fruit?\"\n\nThe fifth, \"Who has been using my fork?\"\n\nThe sixth, \"Who has been cutting with my knife?\"\n\nThe seventh, \"Who has been drinking out of my mug?\"\n\nThen the first looked round and saw that there was a little hole in\nhis bed, and he said:\n\n\"Who has been getting into my bed?\" The others came up and each called\nout:\n\n\"Somebody has been lying in my bed too.\" But the seventh, when he\nlooked at his bed, saw little Snow-white, who was lying asleep there.\nAnd he called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with\nwonder, and brought their seven little candles and let the light fall\non little Snow-white.\n\n\"Oh, heavens! oh, heavens!\" cried they, \"what a lovely child!\" and\nthey were so glad that they did not wake her, but let her sleep on in\nthe bed. And the seventh dwarf slept with the others, one hour with\neach, and so got through the night.\n\nWhen it was morning little Snow-white awoke, and was afraid when she\nsaw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked her what her\nname was.\n\n\"My name is Snow-white,\" she answered.\n\n\"How have you come to our house?\" said the dwarfs. Then she told them\nthat the Queen had wished to have her killed, but that the huntsman\nhad spared her life; she had run for the whole day, until at last she\nhad found their house. The dwarfs said:\n\n\"If you will take care of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew,\nand knit; and if you will keep everything neat and clean, you can stay\nwith us, and you shall want for nothing.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Snow-white, \"with all my heart,\" and she stayed with them.\nShe kept the house in order for them; in the mornings they went to the\nhills and looked for gold; in the evenings they came back, and then\ntheir supper had to be ready. The girl was alone the whole day, so the\ngood dwarfs warned her and said:\n\n\"Beware of the Queen; she will soon know that you are here; be sure to\nlet no one come in.\"\n\nBut the Queen, thinking she had eaten Snow-white's heart, began to\nsuppose she was again the first and most beautiful person in the\nworld; and she went to her Looking-glass and said:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nAnd the Glass answered:\n\n \"O Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,\n But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,\n Snow-white is still alive and well,\n And no one else is so fair as she.\"\n\nAnd so she thought and thought again how she might kill Snow-white,\nfor so long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let her\nhave no rest. And when she had at last thought of something to do, she\npainted her face and dressed herself like an old peddler-woman, and\nno one could have known her. Then she went over the seven hills to the\nseven dwarfs, and knocked at the door and cried:\n\n\"Pretty things to sell, very cheap, very cheap.\" Little Snow-white\nlooked out of the window and called out:\n\n\"Good-day, my good woman, what have you to sell?\"\n\n\"Good things, pretty things,\" she answered; \"stay-laces of all\ncolors,\" and she pulled out one which was woven of bright silk.\n\n\"I may let the good old woman in,\" thought Snow-white, and she\nunbolted the door and bought the pretty laces.\n\n\"Child,\" said the old woman, \"what a fright you look! Come, I will\nlace you properly for once.\"\n\nSnow-white stood before her, and let herself be laced with the new\nlaces. But the old woman laced so quickly and laced so tightly that\nSnow-white lost her breath and fell down as if dead. \"Now I am the\nmost beautiful,\" said the Queen to herself, and ran away.\n\nNot long after, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home, but how\nshocked they were when they saw their dear little Snow-white lying\non the ground! She did not stir or move, and seemed to be dead.\nThey lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced too tightly,\nthey cut the laces; then she began to breathe a little, and after a\nwhile came to life again. When the dwarfs heard what had happened\nthey said:\n\n\"The old peddler-woman was no one else than the wicked Queen; take\ncare and let no one come in when we are not with you.\"\n\nBut the wicked woman, when she was at home again, went in front of the\nGlass and asked:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nAnd it answered as before:\n\n \"O Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,\n But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,\n Snow-white is still alive and well,\n And no one else is so fair as she.\"\n\nWhen she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear, for\nshe saw plainly that little Snow-white was again alive.\n\n\"But now,\" she said, \"I will think of something that shall put an end\nto you,\" and so she made a comb that was full of poison. Then she took\nthe shape of another old woman. So she went over the seven hills to\nthe seven dwarfs, knocked at the door, and cried, \"Good things to\nsell, cheap, cheap!\" Little Snow-white looked out and said:\n\n\"Go away; I cannot let any one come in.\"\n\n\"I suppose you can look,\" said the old woman, and pulled the comb out\nand held it up. It pleased the girl so well that she let herself be\ncoaxed and opened the door. When they had made a bargain the old woman\nsaid, \"Now I will comb you properly for once.\" Poor little Snow-white\nhad no fear, and let the old woman do as she pleased, but hardly had\nshe put the comb in her hair than the poison worked, and the girl fell\ndown senseless.\n\n\"You piece of beauty,\" said the wicked woman, \"you are done for now,\"\nand she went away.\n\nBut as good luck would have it, it was almost evening, and the seven\ndwarfs soon came home. When they saw Snow-white lying as if dead upon\nthe ground, they knew at once the Queen had been there, and they\nlooked and found the comb. Scarcely had they taken it out when\nSnow-white came to herself, and told them what had happened. Then\nthey warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open the door\nto no one.\n\nThe Queen, at home, went in front of the Glass, and said:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nThen it answered as before:\n\n \"O Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,\n But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,\n Snow-white is still alive and well,\n And no one else is so fair as she.\"\n\nWhen she heard the Glass speak thus she trembled and shook with rage.\n\n\"Snow-white shall die,\" she cried, \"even if it costs me my life!\"\n\nShe went into a quiet, secret, lonely room, where no one ever came,\nand there she made an apple full of poison. It was white with a red\ncheek, so that every one who saw it longed for it; but whoever ate a\npiece of it must surely die.\n\nWhen the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself up\nas a country-woman, and so she went over the seven hills to the seven\ndwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of the\nwindow and said:\n\n\"I cannot let any one in; the seven dwarfs have told me not to.\"\n\n\"It is all the same to me,\" said the woman. \"I shall soon get rid of\nmy apples. There, I will give you one.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Snow-white, \"I dare not take anything.\"\n\n\"Are you afraid of poison?\" said the old woman. \"Look, I will cut the\napple in two pieces; you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white.\"\nThe apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was poisoned.\nSnow-white longed for the fine apple, and when she saw that the woman\nate part of it she could stand it no longer, and stretched out her\nhand and took the other half. But hardly had she a bit of it in her\nmouth when she fell down dead. Then the Queen looked at her with a\ndreadful look, and laughed aloud and said:\n\n\"White as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood! This time the\ndwarfs cannot wake you up again.\"\n\nAnd when she asked of the Looking-glass at home:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is fairest of all?\"\n\nit answered at last:\n\n \"O Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.\"\n\nThen her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can have\nrest.\n\nWhen the dwarfs came home in the evening, they found Snow-white lying\nupon the ground; she breathed no longer, and was dead. They lifted her\nup, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but\nit was all of no use; the poor child was dead, and stayed dead. They\nlaid her upon a bier, and all seven of them sat round it and wept for\nher, and wept three whole days.\n\nThen they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she were\nliving, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said:\n\n\"We could not bury her in the dark ground,\" and they had a coffin of\nglass made, so that she could be seen from all sides, and they laid\nher in it, and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that she\nwas a King's daughter. Then they put the coffin out upon the hill, and\none of them always stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too,\nand wept for Snow-white; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.\n\nAnd now Snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she did\nnot change, but looked as if she were asleep; for she was as white as\nsnow, as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony.\n\nIt happened that a King's son came into the wood, and went to the\ndwarfs' house to spend the night. He saw the coffin on the hill, and\nthe beautiful Snow-white within it, and read what was written upon it\nin golden letters. Then he said to the dwarfs:\n\n\"Let me have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it.\"\nBut the dwarfs answered:\n\n\"We will not part with it for all the gold in the world.\" Then he\nsaid:\n\n\"Let me have it as a gift, for I cannot live without seeing\nSnow-white. I will honor and prize her as the dearest thing I have.\"\nAs he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave\nhim the coffin.\n\nAnd now the King's son had it carried away by his servants on their\nshoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a tree-stump, and\nwith the shock the piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten off came\nout of her throat. And before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the\nlid of the coffin, sat up, and was once more alive.\n\n\"Oh, heavens, where am I?\" she cried. The King's son, full of joy,\nsaid:\n\n\"You are with me,\" and told her what had happened, and said, \"I love\nyou more than everything in the world; come with me to my father's\npalace; you shall be my wife.\"\n\nSnow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding was held\nwith great show and splendor. The wicked Queen was also bidden to the\nfeast. When she had put on her beautiful clothes, she went before the\nLooking-glass, and said:\n\n \"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,\n Who in this land is the fairest of all?\"\n\nThe Glass answered:\n\n \"O Queen, of all here the fairest art thou,\n But the young Queen is fairer by far I trow.\"\n\nThen the wicked woman gave a scream, and was so wretched, so utterly\nwretched, that she knew not what to do. At first she would not go to\nthe wedding at all, but she had no peace, and must go to see the young\nQueen. And when she went in she knew Snow-white; and she stood still\nwith rage and fear, and could not stir. But iron slippers had already\nbeen put upon the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set\nbefore her. Then she was forced to put on the red hot shoes, and dance\nuntil she dropped down dead.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOOSE-GIRL\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nAn old Queen had a beautiful daughter, who was betrothed to a young\nPrince of a neighboring kingdom. When the time for the marriage\ncame near, it was arranged that she was to travel to his country\naccompanied only by her waiting-maid. Her mother, the Queen, provided\nher with many costly robes and jewels, such as a Princess about to\nmarry the Prince of a great kingdom would require. She also gave her a\nhorse named Falada, which had the gift of speech.\n\nJust before the Princess started on her journey, the Queen pricked her\nfinger, and dropped three drops of blood upon a handkerchief. \"Take\nthis,\" she told her daughter, \"and guard it carefully. It will serve\nyou when in danger.\"\n\nThe Princess took the handkerchief, and embraced her mother. They shed\nmany tears at parting, but at last the Princess mounted the wonderful\nhorse and started on the journey. When she and the maid had ridden\nfor some time, they came to a stream of clear, cold water. Being\nvery thirsty, the Princess asked the maid to bring her a drink in the\ngolden cup. The maid insolently replied that she might get the water\nfor herself, as she did not intend to serve her any longer. The\nPrincess was so thirsty that she dismounted and drank from the stream.\nAs she bent over to place her lips to the water, she said to herself,\n\"O, Heaven! what am I to do?\" The three drops of blood upon the\nhandkerchief made answer:\n\n \"If she knew this, for thy sake\n Thy queen-mother's heart would break.\"\n\nWhen the Princess had slaked her thirst, she mounted her horse and\nresumed her journey, and being gentle and forgiving, she soon forgot\nthe maid's rudeness. The sun shone on them fiercely, and the road was\nfilled with dust, so that they had not gone far before the Princess\nagain became thirsty. When they came to a brook, she called to the\nmaid:\n\n\"Pray fetch me a drink in my golden cup.\"\n\nThe maid's answer was even more insolent than before. \"If you are\nthirsty, get down and drink. I do not mean to serve you any longer.\"\n\nThe Princess's throat was parched, so she dismounted and drank from\nthe stream, at the same time murmuring, \"O, Heaven! what am I to do?\"\nThe three drops of blood again replied:\n\n \"If she knew this, for thy sake\n Thy queen-mother's heart would break.\"\n\nAs she raised her head from the water, the handkerchief bearing the\nthree drops of blood fell unnoticed from her dress and floated down\nthe stream. The maid, however, had observed the loss with no small\nsatisfaction. Without the three drops of blood, the Princess was\ncompletely in her power, and the traitorous servant immediately took\nadvantage of her helplessness. She obliged the Princess to disrobe and\nexchange the royal dress for her own mean one. After making her swear,\non fear of death, never to betray the secret, the maid mounted Falada\nand left her own horse for the Princess.\n\nFalada bore the false Princess to the palace; but the horse had noted\nall, and bided his time. The Prince came out to meet them, and took\nthe impostor bride to the royal chamber, while the true one was left\nwaiting in the court below. Seeing her there, forlorn and beautiful,\nthe old King inquired of the bride who it was she had thus left\noutside.\n\n\"Only a woman who kept me company,\" she carelessly replied. \"Give her\nsome work to content her.\"\n\nThe King could think of nothing suitable for such as she; but lacking\nsomething better to offer, sent her to help the boy Curdken herd\ngeese. So it happened that the real bride became a goose-girl.\n\nThe false bride at length remembered Falada's gift of speech and\nbecame alarmed lest he should betray the secret of her treachery. She\ntold the Prince that the horse which had brought her was vicious and\nhad given her much trouble, and that she desired his head cut off\nimmediately. The Prince at once granted her request, and gave orders\nthat Falada be beheaded.\n\nWhen the real Princess heard the sad news, she dried her tears and\nsought the executioner. She could not save her dear Falada from his\ndoom, but with the aid of a gold piece she persuaded the slaughterer\nto nail his head over the great gate through which she had to pass on\nher way to and from the goose-pasture.\n\nThe next morning, when she and Curdken drove their geese under the\ngate, the Princess wrung her hands and cried:\n\n \"O Falada, hang you there?\"\n\nAnd the head replied to her:\n\n \"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.\n If she knew this, for thy sake\n Thy queen-mother's heart would break.\"\n\nWhen she had driven the geese to the field, she sat down and loosed\nher golden hair. Curdken, seeing it shining in the sun, caught at it\nto pull some out. Whereupon she sang:\n\n \"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,\n And take Curdken's hat away.\n Keep him chasing o'er the wold,\n While I bind my hair of gold.\"\n\nWhen Curdken had recovered his hat and returned to where she was\nsitting, her hair was plaited, and he could get none of it. This made\nhim very angry all day.\n\nThe next morning they again came to the gate where Falada's head was\nnailed, and the goose-girl said as before:\n\n \"O Falada, hang you there?\"\n\nAnd the head as before replied to her:\n\n \"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.\n If she knew this, for thy sake\n Thy queen-mother's heart would break.\"\n\nAgain she passed on with the geese and Curdken under the gate, and\nwhen she came to the field where they were herded, sat down and loosed\nher hair. The sun shone upon it, and Curdken again caught at its\ngolden threads. The goose-girl called to the wind:\n\n \"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,\n And take Curdken's hat away.\n Keep him chasing o'er the wold,\n While I bind my hair of gold.\"\n\nThe wind did as she asked, and Curdken ran so far for his hat that\nwhen he returned the golden hair was plaited and bound about her head.\n\nCurdken was sullen all day long, and when at night they had driven the\ngeese home, he complained to the King:\n\n\"The goose-girl so teases me that I will no longer herd the geese with\nher.\"\n\nWhen asked how she had offended, he told the King that she spoke every\nmorning to the horse's head that was over the gate, and that the head\nreplied and called her Princess. He also related how the goose-girl\nsat in the sun and combed her golden hair, while she sent him chasing\nfor his hat.\n\nThe King bade Curdken go the next day with his flock as usual. When\nmorning came the King arose early and stood in the shadow of the\ntown-gate. He heard the goose-girl say, \"O Falada, hang you there?\"\nand he heard the head make answer:\n\n \"'Tis Falada, Princess fair.\n If she knew this, for thy sake\n Thy queen-mother's heart would break.\"\n\nThen the King followed on to the field, where he hid behind a bush\nand watched them herd the geese. After a time the goose-girl undid\nher glittering hair; and as Curdken snatched at it, the King heard her\nsay:\n\n \"Wind, blow gently here, I pray,\n And take Curdken's hat away.\n Keep him chasing o'er the wold,\n While I bind my hair of gold.\"\n\nThe wind came at her bidding, and carried the herd-boy's hat across\nthe fields; while she combed the shining hair and made it fast.\n\nThe King quietly returned to the palace, and that night he sent for\nthe goose-girl. He told her he had watched her at the gate and in the\nfield, and asked her the meaning of her strange actions.\n\n\"O King! I may not tell; for I have sworn, if my life were spared, to\nspeak to no one of my woes,\" she replied.\n\nThe King pleaded with her, but she was firm; and at last he told her\nto tell her troubles to the iron stove, since she would not confide\nin him. When he had left her, she fell upon her knees before the stove\nand poured forth her sorrows:\n\n\"Here am I, the daughter of a Queen, doomed to the lowly service of\na goose-girl, while the false waiting-maid steals my treasures and my\nbridegroom.\"\n\nShe sobbed and wept, until the King, who had stood outside and heard\nall, came in and bade her dry her eyes. He ordered her arrayed in\nroyal robes; and then she appeared as lovely as the sun. The Prince\nwas summoned; and the old King told him the story, and showed him the\ntrue bride. She was so beautiful that the Prince knelt at her feet in\nadmiration, and knew her to be the real Princess.\n\nA great banquet was given, to which many guests were invited. On one\nside of the Prince sat the false bride, and on the other the real\nPrincess, who was so radiantly lovely that the maid did not know her.\nThe King at last asked the waiting-maid what punishment should be\ndealt to a traitor.\n\nNot knowing that she was passing sentence on herself, the\nwaiting-maid's answer was as cruel as she was wicked. Said she:\n\n\"Let her be put into a barrel, and drawn by two white horses, up hill\nand down, till she is dead.\"\n\nWhen the wicked maid had been punished according to her own decree,\nthe Princess was wedded to the young Prince, and reigned with him\nfor many happy years over the kingdom where she had first served as a\ngoose-girl.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN BIRD\n\nBY WILHELM AND JAKOB GRIMM\n\n\nThere was once a King who had a beautiful pleasure-garden behind his\npalace, in which grew a tree that bore golden apples. As fast as the\napples ripened they were counted, but the next day one was always\nmissing.\n\nThis was made known to the King, who commanded that a watch should be\nkept every night under the tree. Now, the King had three sons, and\nhe sent the eldest into the garden when night was coming on; but at\nmidnight he fell fast asleep, and in the morning another apple was\nmissing. The following night the second son had to watch, but he did\nnot succeed any better, and again another apple was missing in the\nmorning. Now came the turn of the youngest son, who was eager to go;\nbut the King did not rely much upon him, and thought he would watch\neven worse than his brothers; however, at last he consented.\n\nThe youth threw himself on the ground under the tree and watched\nsteadily, without letting sleep master him. As twelve o'clock\nstruck, something rustled in the air, and he saw a bird fly by in the\nmoonlight, whose feathers were of shining gold. The bird alighted on\nthe tree and was just picking off one of the apples when the young\nPrince shot a bolt at it. Away flew the bird, but the arrow had\nknocked off one of its feathers, which was of the finest gold. The\nyouth picked it up and showed it to the King next morning, and told\nhim all he had seen in the night.\n\nThereupon the King assembled his council, and each one declared that\na single feather like this one was of greater value than the whole\nkingdom.\n\n\"However valuable this feather may be,\" said the King, \"one will not\nbe of much use to me--I must have the whole bird.\"\n\nSo the eldest son went forth on his travels, to look for the wonderful\nbird, and he had no doubt that he would be able to find it.\n\nWhen he had gone a short distance, he saw a fox sitting close to the\nedge of the forest, so he drew his bow to shoot. But the fox cried\nout: \"Do not shoot me, and I will give you a piece of good advice! You\nare now on the road to the golden bird, and this evening you will come\nto a village where two inns stand opposite to each other--one will be\nbrilliantly lighted, and great merriment will be going on inside;\ndo not, however, go in, but rather enter the other, even though it\nappears but a poor place to you.\"\n\n\"How can such a ridiculous animal give me rational advice?\" thought\nthe young Prince, and shot at the fox, but missed it, so it ran away\nwith its tail in the air. The King's son then walked on, and in the\nevening he came to a village where the two inns stood: in one there\nwas dancing and singing, but the other was quiet, and had a very mean\nand wretched appearance.\n\n\"I should be an idiot,\" thought he to himself, \"if I were to go\nto this gloomy old inn while the other is so bright and cheerful.\"\nTherefore, he went into the merry one, lived there in rioting and\nrevelry, and so forgot the golden bird, his father, and all good\nbehavior.\n\nAs time passed away, and the eldest son did not return home, the\nsecond son set out on his travels to seek the golden bird. Like the\neldest brother, he met with the fox, and did not follow the good\nadvice it gave him. He likewise came to the two inns, and at the\nwindow of the noisy one his brother stood entreating him to come in.\nThis he could not resist, so he went in, and began to live a life of\npleasure only.\n\nAgain a long time passed by without any news, so the youngest Prince\nwished to try his luck, but his father would not hear of it. At last,\nfor the sake of peace, the King was obliged to consent, for he had no\nrest as long as he refused. The fox was again sitting at the edge of\nthe forest, and once more it begged for its own life and gave its good\nadvice. The youth was good-hearted, and said:\n\n\"Have no fear, little fox; I will not do thee any harm.\"\n\n\"Thou wilt never repent of thy good nature,\" replied the fox, \"and in\norder that thou mayest travel more quickly, get up behind on my tail.\"\n\nScarcely had the youth seated himself, when away went the fox over\nhill and dale, so fast that the Prince's hair whistled in the wind.\nWhen they came to the village, the youth dismounted, and following the\nfox's advice, he turned at once into the shabby-looking inn, where he\nslept peacefully through the night. The next morning, when the Prince\nwent into the fields, the fox was already there, and said:\n\n\"I will tell thee what further thou must do. Go straight on, and thou\nwilt come to a castle before which a whole troop of soldiers will be\nlying asleep. Go right through the midst of them into the castle, and\nthou wilt come to a chamber where is hanging a wooden cage containing\na golden bird. Close by stands an empty golden cage, for show; but be\ncareful that thou dost not take the bird out of its ugly cage and put\nit in the splendid one, or it will be very unlucky for thee.\"\n\nWith these words the fox once more stretched out its tail, and the\nKing's son sat upon it again, and away they went over hill and dale,\nwith their hair whistling in the wind.\n\nWhen they arrived at the castle, the Prince found everything as the\nfox had said, and he soon discovered the room in which the golden bird\nwas sitting in its wooden cage; by it stood a golden one; while three\ngolden apples were lying about the room. But the Prince thought it\nwould be silly to put such a lovely bird in so ugly and common a cage;\nso, opening the door, he placed it in the golden cage. In an instant\nthe bird set up a piercing shriek, which awakened all the soldiers,\nwho rushed in and made him prisoner.\n\nThe next morning he was brought before a judge, who at once condemned\nhim to death. Still, the King said his life should be spared on one\ncondition, and that was, that he brought him the golden horse, which\nran faster than the wind; and if he succeeded he should also receive\nthe golden bird as a reward.\n\nThe young Prince set out on his journey, but he sighed and felt very\nsorrowful, for where was he to find the golden horse? All at once, he\nsaw his old friend, the fox, sitting by the wayside.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed the fox, \"thou seest now what has happened through not\nlistening to me. But be of good courage; I will look after thee,\nand tell thee how thou mayest discover the horse. Thou must travel\nstraight along this road until thou comest to a castle; the horse is\nthere in one of the stables. Thou wilt find a stable boy lying before\nthe stall, but he will be fast asleep and snoring, so thou wilt be\nable to lead out the golden horse quite quietly. But there is one\nthing thou must be careful about, and that is to put on the shabby old\nsaddle of wood and leather, and not the golden one which hangs beside\nit--otherwise everything will go wrong with thee.\" Then the fox\nstretched out his tail, the Prince took a seat upon it, and away they\nwent over hill and dale, with their hair whistling in the wind.\n\nEverything happened as the fox had said. The Prince came to the stable\nwhere the golden horse was standing, but, as he was about to put on\nthe shabby old saddle, he thought to himself, \"It does seem a shame\nthat such a lovely animal should be disgraced with this. The fine\nsaddle is his by right; it must go on.\"\n\nScarcely had the golden saddle rested on the horse's back when it\nbegan to neigh loudly. This awakened the stable boy, who awakened the\ngrooms, who rushed in and seized the Prince and made him a prisoner.\nThe following morning he was brought to trial and condemned to death,\nbut the King promised him his life, as well as the golden horse, if\nthe youth could find the beautiful daughter of the King of the golden\ncastle. Once more, with a heavy heart, the Prince set out on his\njourney, and by great good fortune he soon came across the faithful\nfox.\n\n\"I really should have left thee to the consequences of thy folly,\"\nsaid the fox; \"but as I feel great compassion for thee, I will help\nthee out of thy new misfortune. The path to the castle lies straight\nbefore thee; thou wilt reach it about the evening. At night, when\neverything is quiet, the lovely Princess will go to the bath-house, to\nbathe there. As soon as she enters, thou must spring forward and give\nher a kiss; then she will follow thee wherever thou carest to lead\nher; only be careful that she does not take leave of her parents, or\neverything will go wrong.\"\n\nThen the fox stretched out his tail, the Prince seated himself on it,\nand away they both went over hill and dale, their hair whistling in\nthe wind.\n\nWhen the King's son came to the golden palace, everything happened as\nthe fox had predicted. He waited until midnight, and when everyone was\nsoundly asleep the beautiful Princess went into the bath-house, so\nhe sprang forward and kissed her. The Princess then said she would\njoyfully follow him, but she besought him with tears in her eyes to\nallow her to say farewell to her parents. At first he withstood her\nentreaties, but as she wept still more, and fell at his feet, he at\nlast yielded.\n\nScarcely was the maiden at the bedside of her father, when he awoke,\nand so did everyone else in the palace; so the foolish youth was\ncaptured and put into prison.\n\nOn the following morning the King said to him: \"Thy life is forfeited,\nand thou canst only find mercy if thou clearest away the mountain that\nlies before my windows, and over which I cannot see, but it must be\nremoved within eight days. If thou dost succeed thou shalt have my\ndaughter as a reward.\"\n\nSo the Prince commenced at once to dig and to shovel away the earth\nwithout cessation, but when after seven days he saw how little he had\nbeen able to accomplish, and that all his labor was as nothing, he\nfell into a great grief and gave up all hope.\n\nOn the evening of the seventh day, however, the fox appeared. \"Thou\ndost not deserve that I should take thy part or befriend thee, but do\nthou go away and lie down to sleep, and I will do the work for thee.\"\n\nAnd the next morning, when he awoke and looked out of the window, the\nmountain had disappeared! Then the Prince, quite overjoyed, hastened\nto the King and told him that the conditions were fulfilled, so that\nthe King, whether he would or not, was obliged to keep his word and\ngive him his daughter.\n\nThen these two went away together, and it was not long before the\nfaithful fox came to them.\n\n\"Thou hast indeed gained the best of all,\" said he; \"but to the maiden\nof the golden castle belongs also the golden horse.\"\n\n\"How can I get it?\" enquired the youth.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" answered the fox; \"first of all, take the lovely\nPrincess to the King who sent you to the golden palace. There will\nthen be unheard-of joy; they will gladly lead the golden horse to thee\nand give it thee. Mount it instantly, and give your hand to everyone\nat parting, and last of all to the Princess. Grasp her hand firmly;\nmake her spring into the saddle behind thee, and then gallop away; no\none will be able to overtake thee, for the golden horse runs faster\nthan the wind.\"\n\nThis was all happily accomplished, and the King's son carried off the\nbeautiful Princess on the golden horse. The fox did not remain behind,\nand spoke thus to the young Prince:\n\n\"Now I will help thee to find the golden bird. When thou comest near\nthe castle where the bird is to be found, let the Princess dismount,\nand I will take her under my protection. Then ride on the golden horse\nto the courtyard of the palace, where thy coming will cause great joy,\nand they will fetch the golden bird for thee. Directly the cage is in\nthy hands, gallop back to us and fetch the maiden again.\"\n\nWhen this plot was successfully carried out, and the Prince was about\nto ride home with his treasure, the fox said, \"Now must thou reward me\nfor all my services.\"\n\n\"What is it that thou dost desire?\" enquired the Prince.\n\n\"When we come to yonder wood, thou must shoot me dead and cut off my\nhead and paws.\"\n\n\"That would be a fine sort of gratitude,\" said the King's son; \"that I\ncannot possibly promise thee.\"\n\n\"Then,\" replied the fox, \"if thou wilt not, I must leave thee; but\nbefore I go I will give thee again some good advice. Beware of two\nthings--buy no gallows'-flesh, and see that thou dost not sit on the\nbrink of a well!\"\n\nWith this the fox ran off into the forest!\n\n\"Ah!\" thought the young Prince, \"that is a wonderful animal with very\nwhimsical ideas! Who would buy gallows'-flesh, and when have I ever\nhad the slightest desire to sit on the brink of a well?\"\n\nSo he rode on with the beautiful maiden, and his path led him once\nmore through the village in which his two brothers had stopped. Here\nthere was great tumult and lamentation, and when he asked what it all\nmeant, he was told that two men were going to be hanged. When he came\nnearer, he saw that they were his two brothers, who had committed\nevery kind of wicked folly and had squandered all their money. Then\nthe young Prince asked if they could not be freed.\n\n\"Supposing you do pay for them,\" the people answered, \"where is the\ngood of wasting your money in order to free such villains?\"\n\nNevertheless, he did not hesitate, but paid for them, and when the\nbrothers were freed they all rode away together. They came to the\nforest where they first encountered the fox, and as it was cool and\npleasant away from the burning sun, the two brothers said:\n\n\"Let us sit and rest a little by this well, and eat and drink\nsomething.\"\n\nThe young Prince consented, and while they were all talking together\nhe quite forgot the fox's warning, and suspected no evil.\n\nBut suddenly the two brothers threw him backwards into the well, and,\nseizing the maiden, the horse, and the golden bird, they went home to\ntheir father.\n\n\"We not only bring you the golden bird,\" said they, \"but we have also\nfound the golden palace.\"\n\nThere was great rejoicing, but the horse would not eat, neither would\nthe bird sing, and the maiden only sat and wept.\n\nBut the youngest brother had not perished. By good fortune the well\nwas dry, and he had fallen on soft moss without hurting himself, but\nhe could not get out again.\n\nEven in this misfortune the faithful fox did not desert him, but came\nspringing down to him and scolded him for not following his advice.\n\n\"Still I cannot forsake thee,\" said he, \"and I will help to show thee\ndaylight once more.\"\n\nThen he told him to seize hold of his tail and hold on tightly; and so\nsaying, he lifted him up in the air.\n\n\"Even now thou art not out of danger,\" said the fox, \"for thy brothers\nwere not certain of thy death, and have set spies to watch for thee in\nthe forest, who will certainly kill thee if they see thee.\"\n\nThere was an old man sitting by the wayside with whom the young Prince\nchanged clothes, and, thus disguised, he reached the court of the\nKing.\n\nNo one recognized him, but the golden bird began to sing, and the\ngolden horse commenced to eat, and the lovely maiden ceased to weep.\n\nThe King was astonished and asked: \"What does this all mean?\"\n\nThen said the maiden: \"I know not, but I was so sad, and now I feel\nlight-hearted; it is as if my true husband had returned.\"\n\nThen she told him all that had happened, although the other brothers\nhad threatened to kill her if she betrayed them.\n\nThe King then summoned all the people in the castle before him: and\nthere came with them the young Prince dressed as a beggar in his rags,\nbut the maiden recognized him instantly and fell upon his neck.\n\nSo the wicked brothers were seized and executed, but the young Prince\nmarried the lovely Princess and was made his father's heir.\n\nBut what became of the poor fox?\n\nLong afterwards the young Prince went again into the forest, and there\nhe met once more with the fox, who said:\n\n\"Thou hast now everything in the world thou canst desire, but to\nmy misfortunes there can be no end, although it is in thy power to\nrelease me from them.\"\n\nSo he entreated the Prince to shoot him dead and cut off his head and\nfeet.\n\nAt last the Prince consented to do so, and scarcely was the deed done\nthan the fox was changed into a man, who was no other than the brother\nof the beautiful Princess, at last released from the spell that had\nbound him.\n\nSo now nothing was wanting to the happiness of the Prince and his\nbride as long as they lived.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFRENCH STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nBEAUTY AND THE BEAST\n\nADAPTED BY E. NESBIT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a rich merchant, who had three daughters.\nThey lived in a very fine house in a beautiful city, and had many\nservants in grand liveries to wait upon them. All their food was\nserved on gold and silver dishes, and their gowns were made of the\nrichest stuff sewn with jewels.\n\nThe two eldest were called Marigold and Dressalinda. Never a day\npassed but these two went out to some feast or junketing; but Beauty,\nthe youngest, loved to stay at home and keep her old father company.\n\nNow, it happened that misfortune came upon the merchant. Ships of\nhis which were sailing the high seas laden with merchandise of great\nprice, were wrecked, and in one day he found that he was no longer the\nrichest merchant in the city, but a very poor man.\n\nThere was still left to him a little house in the country, and to\nthis, when everything else had been sold, he retired. His three\ndaughters, of course, went with him.\n\nMarigold and Dressalinda were very cross to think that they had lost\nall their money, and after being so rich and sought after, they must\nnow live in a miserable cottage.\n\nBut Beauty's only thought was to cheer her old father, and while her\ntwo sisters sat on wooden chairs and cried and bewailed themselves,\nBeauty lighted the fire and got the supper ready, for the merchant was\nnow so poor that he could not even keep a servant.\n\nAnd so it went on. The two eldest sisters would do nothing but sulk in\ncorners, while Beauty swept the floors and washed the dishes, and did\nher best to make the poor cottage pleasant. They led their sister a\ndreadful life too, with their complaints, for not only did they refuse\nto do anything themselves, but they said that everything she did was\ndone wrong. But Beauty bore all their unkindness patiently, for her\nfather's sake.\n\nIn this way a whole year went by, and then one day a letter came for\nthe merchant.\n\nHe hastened to find his daughters, for he was anxious to tell them the\ngood news contained in the letter.\n\n\"My dear children,\" he said, \"at last our luck has turned. This letter\nsays that one of the ships supposed to have been lost has come safely\nhome to port, and if that be so, we need no longer live in poverty. We\nshall not be so rich as before, but we shall have enough to keep us in\ncomfort. Get me my traveling-cloak, Beauty. I will set out at once to\nclaim my ship. And now tell me, girls, what shall I bring you when I\ncome back?\"\n\n\"A hundred pounds,\" said Marigold, without hesitating an instant.\n\n\"I want a new silk dress,\" said Dressalinda, \"an apple-green one, sewn\nwith seed-pearls, and green shoes with red heels, and a necklace of\nemeralds, and a box of gloves.\"\n\n\"And what shall I bring for you, my Beauty?\" asked the father, as his\nlittle daughter helped him to put on his traveling-cloak.\n\n\"Oh, bring me a rose,\" said Beauty hastily.\n\nHer father kissed her fondly, and set out.\n\n\"You silly girl,\" said Marigold, \"you just want our father to think\nyou are more unselfish than we are--that's what you want! A rose,\nindeed!\"\n\n\"Indeed, sister,\" said Beauty, \"that was not the reason. I thought our\nfather would have enough to do in seeing to the safety of his ship,\nwithout being troubled to do shopping for me.\"\n\nBut the sisters were very much offended, and went off to sit in their\nown room to talk of the fine things they would have when their father\ncame back.\n\nIn the meantime the merchant went his way to the city, full of hope\nand great plans as to what he would do with his money.\n\nBut when he got there, he found that some one had played a trick on\nhim, and no ship of his had come into harbor, so he was just as badly\noff as before.\n\nHe spent the whole day looking about to make sure there was no truth\nin the letter he had received, and it was beginning to get dusk when\nhe started out, with a sad heart, to make the journey home again. He\nwas tired and miserable, and he had tasted no food since he left home\nin the morning.\n\nIt was quite dark by the time he came to the great wood through which\nhe had to pass to get to his cottage, and when he saw a light shining\nthrough the trees, he decided not to go to his home that night, but\nto make his way towards the light in the wood and ask for food and\nshelter.\n\nHe expected to find a woodcutter's cottage, but what was his surprise,\nas he drew near to the light, to find that it came from the windows of\na large and beautiful palace!\n\nHe knocked at the gates, but no one answered, and presently, driven by\nhunger and cold, he made bold to enter, and mounted the marble steps\ninto the great hall.\n\nAll the way he never saw a soul. There was a big fire in the hall, and\nwhen he had warmed himself, he set out to look for the master of the\nhouse. But he did not look far, for behind the first door he opened\nwas a cosy little room with supper set for one, a supper the mere look\nof which made you hungry.\n\nSo the merchant sat down as bold as you please, and made a very hearty\nsupper, after which he again thought he would look for the master of\nthe house.\n\nHe started off and opened another door, but there he saw a bed, merely\nto look at which made you sleepy, so he said to himself:\n\n\"This is some fairies' work. I had better not look any farther for the\nmaster of the house.\"\n\nAnd with that he tumbled into bed, and, being very tired, he went to\nsleep at once, and slept like a top till it was time to get up in the\nmorning.\n\nWhen he awoke he was quite surprised to find himself in such a soft\nand comfortable bed, but presently he remembered all that had happened\nto him.\n\n\"I must be going,\" he said to himself, \"but I wish I could thank my\nhost for my good rest and my good supper.\"\n\nWhen he got out of bed he found he had something else to be grateful\nfor, for on the chair by the bedside lay a fine suit of new clothes,\nmarked with his name, and with ten gold pieces in every pocket. He\nfelt quite a different man when he had put on the suit of blue and\nsilver, and jingled the gold pieces of money in his pockets.\n\nWhen he went downstairs, he found a good breakfast waiting for him in\nthe little room where he had supped the night before, and when he had\nmade a good meal, he thought he would go for a stroll in the garden.\n\nDown the marble steps he went, and when he came to the garden, he saw\nthat it was full of roses, red and white and pink and yellow, and the\nmerchant looked at them, and remembered Beauty's wish.\n\n\"Oh, my poor daughters,\" he said, \"what a disappointment it will be to\nthem to know that my ship has not come home after all, but Beauty at\nany rate can have what she wanted.\"\n\nSo he stretched out his hand and plucked the biggest red rose within\nhis reach.\n\nAs the stalk snapped in his fingers, he started back in terror, for he\nheard an angry roar, and the next minute a dreadful Beast sprang upon\nhim. It was taller than any man, and uglier than any animal, but, what\nseemed most dreadful of all to the merchant, it spoke to him with a\nman's voice, after it had roared at him with the Beast's.\n\n\"Ungrateful wretch!\" said the Beast. \"Have I not fed you, lodged you,\nand clothed you, and now you must repay my hospitality by stealing the\nonly thing I care for, my roses?\"\n\n\"Mercy! mercy!\" cried the merchant.\n\n\"No,\" said the Beast, \"you must die!\" The poor merchant fell upon his\nknees and tried to think of something to say to soften the heart of\nthe cruel Beast; and at last he said, \"Sir, I only stole this rose\nbecause my youngest daughter asked me to bring her one. I did not\nthink, after all you have given me, that you would grudge me a\nflower.\"\n\n\"Tell me about this daughter of yours,\" said the Beast suddenly. \"Is\nshe a good girl?\"\n\n\"The best and dearest in the world,\" said the old merchant. And then\nhe began to weep, to think that he must die and leave his Beauty alone\nin the world, with no one to be kind to her.\n\n\"Oh!\" he cried, \"what will my poor children do without me?\"\n\n\"You should have thought of that before you stole the rose,\" said the\nBeast. \"However, if one of your daughters loves you well enough\nto suffer instead of you, she may. Go back and tell them what has\nhappened to you, but you must give me your promise that either you,\nor one of your daughters, shall be at my palace door in three months'\ntime from to-day.\"\n\nThe wretched man promised.\n\n\"At any rate,\" he thought, \"I shall have three months more of life.\"\n\nThen the Beast said, \"I will not let you go empty-handed.\"\n\nSo the merchant followed him back into the palace. There, on the floor\nof the hall, lay a great and beautiful chest of wrought silver.\n\n\"Fill this with any treasures that take your fancy,\" said the Beast.\n\nAnd the merchant filled it up with precious things from the Beast's\ntreasure-house.\n\n\"I will send it home for you,\" said the Beast, shutting down the lid.\n\nAnd so, with a heavy heart, the merchant went away; but as he went\nthrough the palace gate, the Beast called to him that he had forgotten\nBeauty's rose, and at the same time held out to him a large bunch of\nthe very best.\n\nThe merchant put these into Beauty's hand when she ran to meet him at\nthe door of their cottage.\n\n\"Take them, my child,\" he said, \"and cherish them, for they have cost\nyour poor father his life.\"\n\nAnd with that he sat down and told them the whole story. The two elder\nsisters wept and wailed, and of course blamed Beauty for all that had\nhappened.\n\n\"If it had not been for your wanting a rose, our father would have\nleft the palace in safety, with his new suit and his gold pieces; but\nyour foolishness has cost him his life.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Beauty, \"it is _my_ life that shall be sacrificed, for when\nthe three months are over, I shall go to the Beast, and he may kill me\nif he will, but he shall never hurt my dear father.\"\n\nThe father tried hard to persuade her not to go, but she had made\nup her mind, and at the end of the three months she set out for the\nBeast's palace.\n\nHer father went with her, to show her the way. As before, he saw the\nlights shining through the wood, knocked and rang in vain at the great\ngate, warmed himself at the fire in the big hall, and then found the\nlittle room with the supper on the table that made you hungry to look\nat. Only this time the table was laid for two.\n\n\"Come, father dear,\" said Beauty, \"take comfort. I do not think the\nBeast means to kill me, or surely he would not have given me such a\ngood supper.\"\n\nBut the next moment the Beast came into the room. Beauty screamed and\nclung to her father.\n\n\"Don't be frightened,\" said the Beast gently, \"but tell me, do you\ncome here of your own free will?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Beauty, trembling.\n\n\"You are a good girl,\" said the Beast, and then, turning to the old\nman, he told him that he might sleep there for that night, but in the\nmorning he must go and leave his daughter behind him.\n\nThey went to bed and slept soundly, and the next morning the father\ndeparted, weeping bitterly.\n\nBeauty, left alone, tried not to feel frightened. She ran here and\nthere through the palace, and found it more beautiful than anything\nshe had ever imagined.\n\nThe most beautiful set of rooms in the palace had written over the\ndoors, \"Beauty's Rooms,\" and in them she found books and music,\ncanary-birds and Persian cats, and everything that could be thought of\nto make the time pass pleasantly.\n\n\"Oh, dear!\" she said; \"if only I could see my poor father I should be\nalmost happy.\"\n\nAs she spoke, she happened to look at a big mirror, and in it she saw\nthe form of her father reflected, just riding up to the door of his\ncottage.\n\nThat night, when Beauty sat down to supper, the Beast came in.\n\n\"May I have supper with you?\" said he.\n\n\"That must be as you please,\" said Beauty.\n\nSo the Beast sat down to supper with her, and when it was finished, he\nsaid:\n\n\"I am very ugly, Beauty, and I am very stupid, but I love you; will\nyou marry me?\"\n\n\"No, Beast,\" said Beauty gently.\n\nThe poor Beast sighed and went away.\n\nAnd every night the same thing happened. He ate his supper with her,\nand then asked her if she would marry him. And she always said, \"No,\nBeast.\"\n\nAll this time she was waited on by invisible hands, as though she had\nbeen a queen. Beautiful music came to her ears without her being able\nto see the musicians, but the magic looking-glass was best of all, for\nin it she could see whatever she wished. As the days went by, and her\nslightest wish was granted, almost before she knew what she wanted,\nshe began to feel that the Beast must love her very dearly, and she\nwas very sorry to see how sad he looked every night when she said \"No\"\nto his offer of marriage.\n\nOne day, she saw in her mirror that her father was ill, so that night\nshe said to the Beast:\n\n\"Dear Beast, you are so good to me, will you let me go home to see\nmy father? He is ill, and he thinks that I am dead. Do let me go and\ncheer him up, and I will promise faithfully to return to you.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Beast kindly, \"but don't stay away more than\na week, for if you do, I shall die of grief, because I love you so\ndearly.\"\n\n\"How shall I reach home?\" said Beauty; \"I do not know the way.\"\n\nThen the Beast gave her a ring, and told her to put it on her finger\nwhen she went to bed, turn the ruby towards the palm of her hand, and\nthen she would wake up in her father's cottage. When she wanted to\ncome back, she was to do the same thing.\n\nSo in the morning, when she awoke, she found herself at her father's\nhouse, and the old man was beside himself with joy to see her safe and\nsound.\n\nBut her sisters did not welcome her very kindly, and when they heard\nhow kind the Beast was to her, they envied her her good luck in living\nin a beautiful palace, whilst they had to be content with a cottage.\n\n\"I wish we had gone,\" said Marigold. \"Beauty always gets the best of\neverything.\"\n\n\"Tell us all about your grand palace,\" said Dressalinda, \"and what you\ndo, and how you spend your time.\"\n\nSo Beauty, thinking it would amuse them to hear, told them, and their\nenvy increased day by day. At last Dressalinda said to Marigold:\n\n\"She has promised to return in a week. If we could only make her\nforget the day, the Beast might be angry and kill her, and then there\nwould be a chance for us.\"\n\nSo on the day before she ought to have gone back, they put, some\npoppy juice in a cup of wine which they gave her, and this made her\nso sleepy that she slept for two whole days and nights. At the end of\nthat time her sleep grew troubled, and she dreamed that She saw the\nBeast lying dead among the roses in the beautiful gardens of his\npalace; and from this dream she awoke crying bitterly.\n\nAlthough she did not know that a week and two days had gone by since\nshe left the Beast, yet after that dream she at once turned the ruby\ntowards her palm, and the next morning there she was, sure enough, in\nher bed in the Beast's palace.\n\nShe did not know where his rooms in the palace were, but she felt she\ncould not wait till supper-time before seeing him, so she ran hither\nand thither, calling his name. But the palace was empty, and no one\nanswered her when she called.\n\nThen she ran through the gardens, calling his name again and again,\nbut still there was silence.\n\n\"Oh! what shall I do if I cannot find him?\" she said. \"I shall never\nbe happy again.\"\n\nThen she remembered her dream, and ran to the rose garden, and there,\nsure enough, beside the basin of the big fountain, lay the poor Beast\nwithout any sign of life in him.\n\nBeauty flung herself on her knees beside him.\n\n\"Oh, dear Beast,\" she cried, \"and are you really dead? Alas! alas!\nthen I, too, will die, for I cannot live without you.\"\n\nImmediately the Beast opened his eyes, sighed, and said:\n\n\"Beauty, will you marry me?\"\n\nAnd Beauty, beside herself with joy when she found that he was still\nalive, answered:\n\n\"Yes, yes, dear Beast, for I love you dearly.\"\n\nAt these words the rough fur dropped to the ground, and in place of\nthe Beast stood a handsome Prince, dressed in a doublet of white and\nsilver, like one made ready for a wedding. He knelt at Beauty's feet\nand clasped her hands.\n\n\"Dear Beauty,\" he said, \"nothing but your love could have disenchanted\nme. A wicked fairy turned me into a Beast, and condemned me to remain\none until some fair and good maiden should love me well enough to\nmarry me, in spite of my ugliness and stupidity. Now, dear one, the\nenchantment is broken; let us go back to my palace. You will find that\nall my servants--who, too, have been enchanted, and have waited on you\nall this long time with invisible hands--will now become visible.\"\n\nSo they returned to the palace, which by this time was crowded with\ncourtiers, eager to kiss the hands of the Prince and his bride. And\nthe Prince whispered to one of his attendants, who went out, and in a\nvery little time came back with Beauty's father and sisters.\n\nThe sisters were condemned to be changed into statues, and to stand\nat the right and left of the palace gates until their hearts should\nbe softened, and they should be sorry for their unkindness to their\nsister. But Beauty, happily married to her Prince, went secretly to\nthe statues every day and wept over them.\n\nAnd by her tears their stony hearts were softened, and they were\nchanged into flesh and blood again, and were good and kind for the\nrest of their lives.\n\nAnd Beauty and the Beast, who was a Beast no more, but a handsome\nPrince, lived happily ever after.\n\nAnd indeed I believe they are living happily still, in the beautiful\nland where dreams come true.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE CAT\n\nBY THE COMTESSE D'AULNOY\n\n\nThere was once a King who had three sons, and because they were all so\ngood and so handsome, he could not make up his mind to which of them\nto give his kingdom. For he was growing an old man, and began to think\nit would soon be time for him to let one of them reign in his stead.\n\nSo he determined to set them a task to perform, and whichever should\nbe the most successful was to have the kingdom as his reward.\n\nIt was some time before he could decide what the task should be. But\nat last he told them that he had a fancy for a very beautiful little\ndog, and that they were all to set out to find one for him. They were\nto have a whole year in which to search, and were all to return to the\ncastle on the same day, and present the various dogs they had chosen\nat the same hour.\n\nThe three Princes were greatly surprised by their father's sudden\nfancy for a little dog, but when they heard that whichever of them\nbrought back the prettiest little animal was to succeed his father\non the throne, they made no further objection, for it gave the two\nyounger sons a chance they would not otherwise have had of being King.\n\nSo they bade their father good-bye, and after agreeing to be back at\nthe castle at the same hour, and on the same day, when a year should\nhave passed away, the three brothers all started together.\n\nA great number of lords and servants accompanied them out of the city,\nbut when they had ridden about a league they sent everyone back, and\nafter embracing one another affectionately, they all set out to try\ntheir luck in different directions.\n\nThe two eldest met with many adventures on their travels, but the\nyoungest saw the most wonderful sights of all.\n\nHe was young and handsome, and as clever as a Prince should be,\nbesides being brave.\n\nWherever he went he enquired for dogs, and hardly a day passed without\nhis buying several, big and little, greyhounds, spaniels, lap-dogs,\nand sheep-dogs--in fact, every kind of dog that you could think of,\nand very soon he had a troop of fifty or sixty trotting along behind\nhim, one of which he thought would surely win the prize.\n\nSo he journeyed on from day to day, not knowing where he was going,\nuntil one night he lost his way in a thick dark forest, and after\nwandering many weary miles in the wind and rain he was glad to see at\nlast a bright light shining through the trees. He thought he must\nbe near some woodcutter's cottage, but what was his surprise when he\nfound himself before the gateway of a splendid castle!\n\nAt first he hesitated about entering, for his garments were travel\nstained, and he was drenched with rain, so that no one could have\npossibly taken him for a Prince. All the beautiful little dogs he had\ntaken so much trouble to collect had been lost in the forest, and he\nwas thoroughly weary and disheartened.\n\nHowever, something seemed to bid him enter the castle, so he pulled\nthe bell. Immediately the gateway flew open, and a number of beautiful\nwhite hands appeared, and beckoned to him to cross the courtyard and\nenter the great hall.\n\nHere he found a splendid fire blazing, beside which stood a\ncomfortable arm-chair; the hands pointed invitingly towards it, and as\nsoon as the Prince had seated himself they proceeded to take off his\nwet, muddy clothes, and dress him in a magnificent suit of silk and\nvelvet.\n\nWhen he was ready, the hands led him into a brilliantly-lighted room,\nin which was a table spread for supper. At the end of the room was a\nraised platform, upon which a number of cats were seated, all playing\ndifferent musical instruments.\n\nThe Prince began to think he must be dreaming, when the door opened,\nand a lovely little White Cat came in. She wore a long black veil, and\nwas accompanied by a number of cats, dressed in black, and carrying\nswords.\n\nShe came straight up to the Prince, and in a sweet, sad little voice\nbade him welcome. Then she ordered supper to be served, and the whole\ncompany sat down together.\n\nThey were waited upon by the mysterious hands, but many of the\ndishes were not to the Prince's liking. Stewed rats and mice may be a\nfirst-rate meal for a cat, but the Prince did not feel inclined to try\nthem.\n\nHowever, the White Cat ordered the hands to serve the Prince with the\ndishes he liked best, and at once, without his even mentioning his\nfavorite food, he was supplied with every dainty he could think of.\n\nAfter the Prince had satisfied his hunger, he noticed that the Cat\nwore a bracelet upon her paw, in which was set a miniature of himself;\nbut when he questioned her about it, she sighed, and seemed so sad\nthat, like a well-behaved Prince, he said no more about the matter.\n\nSoon after supper, the hands conducted him to bed, when he at once\nfell fast asleep, and did not awaken until late the next morning.\nOn looking out of his window, he saw that the White Cat and her\nattendants were about to start out on a hunting expedition.\n\nAs soon as the hands had dressed him in a hunting-suit of green, he\nhurried down to join his hostess.\n\nThe hands led him up to a wooden horse, and seemed to expect him to\nmount. At first the Prince was inclined to be angry, but the White Cat\ntold him so gently that she had no better steed to offer him, that he\nat once mounted, feeling very much ashamed of his ill-humor.\n\nThey had an excellent day's sport. The White Cat, who rode a monkey,\nproved herself a clever huntress, climbing the tallest trees with the\ngreatest ease, and without once falling from her steed.\n\nNever was there a pleasanter hunting party, and day after day the time\npassed so happily away that the Prince forgot all about the little dog\nhe was searching for, and even forgot his own home and his father's\npromise.\n\nAt length the White Cat reminded him that in three days he must appear\nat court, and the Prince was terribly upset to think that he had now\nno chance of winning his father's kingdom. But the White Cat told him\nthat all would be well, and giving him an acorn, bade him mount the\nwooden horse and ride away.\n\nThe Prince thought she must be mocking him, but when she held the\nacorn to his ear, he heard quite plainly a little dog's bark.\n\n\"Inside this acorn,\" she said, \"is the prettiest little dog in the\nworld. But be sure you do not open the fruit until you are in the\nKing's presence.\"\n\n\nThe Prince thanked her, and having bidden her a sorrowful farewell,\nmounted his wooden steed and rode away.\n\nBefore he reached the castle, he met his two brothers, who made fine\nfun of the wooden horse, and also of the big ugly dog which trotted by\nhis side.\n\nThey imagined this to be the one their brother had brought back from\nhis travels, hoping that it would gain the prize.\n\nWhen they reached the palace, everyone was loud in praise of the two\nlovely little dogs the elder brothers had brought back with them, but\nwhen the youngest opened his acorn and showed a tiny dog, lying upon a\nwhite satin cushion, they knew that this must be the prettiest little\ndog in the world.\n\nHowever, the King did not feel inclined to give up his throne just\nyet, so he told the brothers that there was one more task they must\nfirst perform: they must bring him a piece of muslin so fine that it\nwould pass through the eye of a needle.\n\nSo once more the brothers set out upon their travels. As for the\nyoungest, he mounted his wooden horse and rode straight back to his\ndear White Cat.\n\nShe was delighted to welcome him, and when the Prince told her that\nthe King had now ordered him to find a piece of muslin fine enough to\ngo through the eye of a needle, she smiled at him very sweetly, and\ntold him to be of good cheer.\n\n\"In my palace I have some very clever spinners,\" she said; \"and I will\nset them to work upon the muslin.\"\n\nThe Prince had begun to suspect by this time that the White Cat was\nno ordinary pussy, but whenever he begged her to tell him her history,\nshe only shook her head mournfully and sighed.\n\nWell, the second year passed away as quickly as the first, and the\nnight before the day on which the three Princes were expected at their\nfather's court, the White Cat gave the young Prince a walnut, telling\nhim that it contained the muslin. Then she bade him good-by, and he\nmounted the wooden horse and rode away.\n\nThis time the young Prince was so late that his brothers had already\nbegun to display their pieces of muslin to the King when he arrived\nat the castle gates. The materials they had brought were of extremely\nfine texture, and passed easily through the eye of a darning-needle,\nbut through the small needle the King had provided they would _not_\npass. Then the youngest Prince stepped into the great hall and\nproduced his walnut. He cracked it carefully, and found inside\na hazel-nut. This when cracked held a cherrystone, inside the\ncherrystone was a grain of wheat, and in the wheat a millet-seed. The\nPrince himself began to mistrust the White Cat, but he instantly\nfelt a cat's claw scratch him gently, so he persevered, opened the\nmillet-seed, and found inside a beautiful piece of soft white muslin\nthat was four hundred ells long at the very least. It passed with the\ngreatest ease through the eye of the smallest needle in the kingdom,\nand the Prince felt that now the prize must be his.\n\nBut the old King was still very loth to give up ruling, so he told the\nPrinces that before any one of them could become King he must find\na Princess to marry him who would be lovely enough to grace her high\nstation; and whichever of the Princes brought home the most beautiful\nbride should _really_ have the kingdom for his own.\n\nOf course, the Prince went back to the White Cat, and told her how\nvery unfairly his father had behaved to him. She comforted him as best\nshe could, and told him not to be afraid, for she would introduce him\nto the loveliest Princess the sun had ever shone upon.\n\nThe appointed time passed happily away, and one evening the White Cat\nreminded the Prince that on the next day he must return home.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he, \"where shall I find a Princess now? The time is so\nshort that I cannot even look for one.\"\n\nThen the White Cat told him that if only he would do as she bade him\nall would be well.\n\n\"Take your sword, cut off my head and my tail, and cast them into the\nflames,\" she said.\n\nThe Prince declared that on no account would he treat her so cruelly;\nbut she begged him so earnestly to do as she asked that at last he\nconsented.\n\nNo sooner had he cast the head and the tail into the fire than a\nbeautiful Princess appeared where the body of the cat had been. The\nspell that had been cast upon her was broken, and at the same time\nher courtiers and attendants, who had also been changed into cats,\nhastened in in their proper forms again, to pay their respects to\ntheir mistress.\n\nThe Prince at once fell deeply in love with the charming Princess, and\nbegged her to accompany him to his father's court as his bride.\n\nShe consented, and together they rode away. During the journey, the\nPrincess told her husband the story of her enchantment.\n\nShe had been brought up by the fairies, who treated her with great\nkindness until she offended them by falling in love with the young\nman whose portrait the Prince had seen upon her paw, and who exactly\nresembled him.\n\nNow, the fairies wished her to marry the King of the Dwarfs, and were\nso angry when she declared she would marry no one but her own true\nlove, that they changed her into a White Cat as a punishment.\n\nWhen the Prince and his bride reached the court, all were bound to\nacknowledge that the Princess was by far the loveliest lady they had\never seen.\n\nSo the poor old King felt that now he would be obliged to give up his\nkingdom. But the Princess knelt by his side, kissed his hand gently,\nand told him that there was no reason for him to cease ruling, for she\nwas rich enough to give a mighty kingdom to each of his elder sons,\nand still have three left for herself and her dear husband.\n\nSo everyone was pleased, and there was great rejoicing and feasting in\nthe King's palace, and they all lived happily ever after.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PRETTY GOLDILOCKS\n\n\nThere was once a Princess so lovely that no one could see her without\nloving her. Her hair fell about her shoulders in waving masses, and\nbecause it was the color of gold, she was called Pretty Goldilocks.\nShe always wore a crown of flowers, and her dresses were embroidered\nwith pearls and diamonds.\n\nThe fame of her beauty reached a young King, who determined to marry\nher, although he had never seen her. He sent an ambassador to ask\nher hand in marriage; and so confident was he that the Princess would\nreturn with him, that he made every preparation to receive her. The\nambassador arrived at the palace of the Princess with a hundred horses\nand as many servants. With great ceremony, he presented the King's\ngifts of pearls and diamonds, together with his message. The Princess,\nhowever, did not favor the King's suit, and sent back his gifts with\na polite refusal. When the ambassador returned without the Princess,\nevery one blamed him for his failure; and the King's disappointment\nwas so great that no one could console him.\n\nNow at the King's court was a young man so handsome and clever that he\nwas called Charming. Every one loved him, except some who were envious\nbecause he was the King's favorite. One day Charming rashly remarked\nthat if the King had sent _him_ for the Princess, she would have\ncome back with him. His enemies at once went to the King and used the\nremark to influence him against Charming.\n\n\"He thinks himself so handsome that the Princess could not have\nresisted him, although she refused his King,\" they told his Majesty.\n\nThe boastful words so offended the King that he ordered Charming to be\nshut up in the tower, where he had only straw to lie on and bread and\nwater to eat. In this miserable state he languished for some time, not\nknowing why he had been imprisoned. One day the King happened to be\npassing the tower and heard him exclaim:\n\n\"I am the King's most faithful subject; how have I incurred his\ndispleasure?\" Then, in spite of the protests of Charming's enemies,\nthe King ordered the tower-door opened and Charming brought forth. His\nold favorite sadly knelt and kissed his hand, saying:\n\n\"Sire, how have I offended?\"\n\nThe King told him of the boast his enemies had repeated.\n\n\"True, Sire, I did say that had I been sent to plead your cause, it\nwould not have failed for lack of eloquence. Could the Princess see\nyou as my tongue would picture you, I would not return without her.\"\n\nThe King at once saw that he had been deceived, and restored Charming\nto favor. While at supper that night, he confided to him that he was\nas much in love with Goldilocks as ever, and could not be reconciled\nto her answer.\n\n\"Do you think,\" asked the King, \"that she could be induced to change\nher mind?\"\n\nCharming replied that he was at the King's service and willing to\nundertake the task of winning the Princess for him. The King was\ndelighted and offered him a splendid escort, but he asked only for a\ngood horse.\n\nEarly the next day he set forth, with a resolute heart and the King's\nletter to the Princess. One day when he had ridden a great distance,\nhe dismounted and sat down under a tree that grew beside a river. He\ntook from his pocket a little book, in which he jotted down some happy\nthoughts that he meant to use in his plea to the Princess. Not far\nfrom where he sat, a golden carp was springing from the water to catch\nflies, and a bound too high landed it on the grass at Charming's feet.\nIt panted helplessly, and would have died had he not taken pity on it\nand thrown it back into the river. It sank out of sight, but presently\nreturned to the surface long enough to say:\n\n\"Thank you, Charming, for saving my life. Some day I may repay you.\"\nNaturally, he was greatly surprised at so much politeness from a fish.\n\nA few days later, while riding along his way, he saw a raven pursued\nby an eagle. In a moment more the eagle would have overtaken the\nraven, had not Charming aimed his arrow in time and killed the\npursuer. The raven perched on a tree near by and croaked its\ngratitude:\n\n\"You have rescued me from a dreadful fate,\" it said. \"Some day I will\nrepay you.\"\n\nA day or two afterward, in the dusk of early morning, he heard the\ndistressful cries of an owl. Hunting about, he found the unfortunate\nbird caught in a net which some birdcatchers had spread. \"Why will men\npersecute and torment harmless creatures!\" exclaimed Charming, as he\nset the bird free. The owl fluttered above his head, saying:\n\n\"You have saved me from the fowlers, who would have killed me. I am\nnot ungrateful, and some day I will repay you!\" After that it flew\nswiftly away.\n\nCharming at last reached the palace of the Princess, and asked an\naudience. His name so pleased her that she at once received him. He\nwas ushered into the presence of the Princess, who sat on a throne of\ngold and ivory. Her satin dress was embroidered with jewels, and her\ngolden hair was confined by a crown of flowers. Soft music and perfume\nfilled the air, and Charming was so awed by all this splendor that at\nfirst he could not speak. Recovering himself in a moment, he told\nof his mission, and set forth the good qualities of the King in such\nglowing terms that the Princess listened.\n\n\"You have argued so eloquently,\" replied she, \"that I regret to deny\nyou; but I have made a vow not to marry, until the ambassador can\nreturn to me a ring which I lost in the river a month ago. I valued\nit more than all my other jewels, and nothing but its recovery can\npersuade me to your suit.\"\n\nCharming could urge no more, but offered an embroidered scarf and his\nlittle dog Frisk as tokens of devotion. These were declined, so bowing\nlow, he reluctantly took leave of the Princess. He believed that she\nhad but used this means to put him off, and his disappointment was so\ngreat that he could not sleep.\n\nIn the morning he and Frisk were walking by the riverside when the dog\nran to the water's edge, barking furiously. Joining the little animal,\nhe saw that his excitement was caused by a golden carp which came\nswimming swiftly toward them. In its mouth was a beautiful ring which\nit laid in Charming's hand.\n\n\"You saved my life by the willow-tree,\" said the carp, \"and I now\nrepay you by giving to you the Princess's ring.\"\n\nCharming lost no time in presenting it to the Princess and claiming\nhis reward.\n\n\"What fairy aids you?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"Only my wish to serve you,\" Charming replied.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the Princess, \"I cannot marry until Galifron, the giant,\nis dead. Because I would not take him for my husband, he persecutes my\nsubjects and lays waste my land.\"\n\n\"Princess, I will bring back the giant's head to you or die in your\ndefense,\" bravely declared Charming.\n\nThe Princess and all the people tried to dissuade him, but he mounted\nhis horse and rode off, accompanied only by his little dog, Frisk. He\ntraveled straight to the giant's castle. All about it were strewn the\nbones of Galifron's victims. Inside the castle the giant was singing\nin a terrible voice:\n\n \"Little children I love to eat;\n Their bones are tender, their flesh is sweet.\n I do not care, I eat so many,\n If their hair be straight, or if they haven't any.\"\n\nCharming called out loudly in reply:\n\n \"Be not so boastful, Galifron,\n Till you've met a knight, who\n May be good to feed upon,\n But is here to fight you.\"\n\nThe giant appeared at the door, club in hand. When he saw Charming\nfearlessly awaiting him, he came toward him in a terrible rage. But\nbefore he could wield his club, a raven lit on his head and pecked at\nhis eyes, so that he dropped his weapon and was at Charming's mercy.\nWhen the valiant knight had killed the giant, the raven croaked from a\ntree near by:\n\n\"You saved me from the eagle, and I in turn have saved you from the\ngiant.\"\n\nCharming cut off the head of the giant, and carried it back with him\nto the Princess. Then the people shouted until they were hoarse, and\nwelcomed him as a great hero.\n\n\"Your enemy is dead,\" Charming told the Princess. \"Will you now make\nmy master the happiest of kings?\"\n\n\"There is,\" replied the reluctant Princess, \"some water which gives\neternal health and beauty to those who drink it. I would regret to\nleave my kingdom without possessing some of it; but no one has dared\nto brave the two dragons that guard the cavern where the fountain is\nto be found.\"\n\n\"You do not need the water, Princess; but my life is yours to\ncommand,\" gallantly replied Charming; and he set out at once on the\nperilous mission.\n\nWhen he came to the mouth of the cavern, black smoke issued forth; and\npresently he perceived the terrible form of a dragon, from whose\nmouth and eyes fire was darting. Bidding good-by to faithful Frisk, he\ngrasped his sword in one hand and the crystal flask which the Princess\nhad given him in the other. Just then he heard his name called twice,\nand, looking back, he saw an owl flying toward him.\n\n\"I can enter the gloomy cavern without danger,\" the owl said. \"Give\nthe flask to me, and I will repay the debt I owe you for having saved\nme from the net.\"\n\nCharming gladly surrendered the flask to the owl, who in a short time\nreturned it to him filled with the precious water.\n\nThe Princess this time consented to marry the King, and after many\npreparations she and Charming started for his kingdom. The journey\nwas made so entertaining for the Princess that she one day said to\nCharming:\n\n\"Why did I not make you King, and remain in my own country?\" Charming\nreplied that he must have considered his duty to his King, even before\na happiness so great.\n\nThe King, with presents of rich jewels and a splendid escort, met them\non the way to the palace. The marriage was celebrated with great\npomp, and Charming stood first in the King's favor. His good fortune,\nhowever, did not continue long, for envious enemies pointed out to the\nKing that the Princess was never happy unless Charming was near. The\nunhappy knight was again put into prison, where he was cruelly chained\nand fed on bread and water.\n\nWhen Goldilocks learned this, she wept and implored the King to set\nhim free. \"But for him I never would have been here,\" she said. \"Did\nhe not perform every task I required, even that of getting for me the\nwater whereby I shall never grow old?\"\n\nThe Princess's grief only made the King more jealous, but he\ndetermined to make use of this wonderful water of which she had\ntold. It so happened that one of the Princess's ladies had broken the\ncrystal flask and spilled all of the water. Not daring to confess,\nshe put another in its place that exactly resembled it in appearance.\nThis, however, contained a deadly poison. When the King bathed his\nface with it, he fell into a sleep from which he never awoke.\n\nThere was great confusion in the palace when the King was found dead.\nFrisk ran immediately to Charming and told him the news. In a short\ntime Goldilocks also appeared, unlocked his chains, and set him free.\n\n\"You shall be my husband,\" said she, \"and I will make you King.\"\n\nCharming fell at her feet and expressed his gratitude and joy. They\nwere married soon afterward, and they reigned together for many happy\nyears.\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTOADS AND DIAMONDS\n\n\nA bad-tempered widow had two daughters. The eldest was like her\nmother, both in feature and disposition, while the youngest resembled\nher father. She was sweet-natured always, and as pretty as she was\namiable.\n\nThe widow doted on the daughter who was so like herself, but had no\nlove for the other, whom she compelled to work hard all day, and\nto live upon the leavings of her elder sister. Among her other hard\ntasks, she was obliged to carry water every day from a great distance.\n\nOne day when she had just filled her pitcher at the fountain, an old\nwoman asked to drink from it. \"With all my heart,\" replied the pretty\ngirl. Glad to show a kindness to one old and infirm, she held the\npitcher while the woman slaked her thirst.\n\nNow, this was not a trembling old peasant, as she appeared, but a\nfairy who rewarded good deeds. \"Your face is pretty and your heart is\ngentle,\" said she. \"For your kindness to a poor old woman, I will make\nyou a gift. Every time you speak, from your mouth shall come a flower\nor a jewel.\"\n\nWhen the girl reached home her mother scolded her for her long\nabsence. \"Pardon me for being away so long,\" she sweetly replied. As\nshe spoke some pearls and diamonds issued from her lips.\n\n\"What is this I see, child?\" asked the astonished widow.\n\nThe forlorn girl was so happy to be called child by her mother that\nshe eagerly related her experience with the old woman at the fountain,\nwhile, with her words, dropped precious stones and roses. The widow\nimmediately called her favorite daughter to her.\n\n\"Fanny, wouldst thou have the same gift as thy sister?\" asked she. \"Go\nthou to the fountain and fetch water. And if an old woman asks thee\nfor a drink, mind thou treat her civilly.\"\n\nThe girl refused to perform the menial task, until the widow lost\npatience and drove her to it. Finally, she took the silver tankard and\nsullenly obeyed. No sooner was she at the fountain than from the wood\ncame a lady most handsomely attired, who asked the haughty girl for a\ndrink from her pitcher.\n\n\"I have not come here to serve you,\" she rudely replied, \"but take the\npitcher and help yourself, for all I care. I would have you know that\nI am as good as you.\"\n\nThe lady was the fairy, who had taken the appearance of a princess to\nsee how far the girl's insolence would go. \"I will make you a gift,\"\nshe said, \"to equal your discourtesy and ill breeding. Every time you\nspeak, there shall come from your mouth a snake or a toad.\"\n\nThe girl ran home to her mother, who met her at the door. \"Well,\ndaughter,\" she said, impatient to hear her speak. When she opened her\nmouth, to the mother's horror, two vipers and two toads sprang from\nit. \"This is the fault of your wretched sister,\" the unhappy mother\ncried. She ran to beat the poor younger sister, who fled to the\nforest to escape the cruel blows. When she was past pursuit, she threw\nherself upon the green grass and wept bitterly.\n\nThe King's son, returning from the hunt, found her thus, and asked the\ncause of her tears.\n\n\"My mother has driven me from my home,\" she told him. She was so\npretty that he fell in love with her at once, and pressed her to tell\nhim more. She then related to him the whole story, while pearls and\ndiamonds kept falling from her lips. Enraptured, he took her to the\nKing, who gave his consent to their immediate marriage.\n\nMeanwhile the ugly and selfish sister had made herself so disagreeable\nthat even her own mother turned against her. She, too, was driven\nforth into the forest, where she died miserable and alone.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nENGLISH STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nTHE HISTORY OF TOM THUMB\n\nADAPTED BY ERNEST RHYS\n\n\nIt is said that in the days of the famed Prince Arthur, who was king\nof Britain, in the year 516 there lived a great magician, called\nMerlin, the most learned and skilful enchanter in the world at that\ntime.\n\nThis great magician, who could assume any form he pleased, was\ntraveling in the disguise of a poor beggar, and being very much\nfatigued, he stopped at the cottage of an honest plowman to rest\nhimself, and ask for some refreshment.\n\nThe countryman gave him a hearty welcome, and his wife, who was a very\ngood-hearted, hospitable woman, soon brought him some milk in a wooden\nbowl, and some coarse brown bread on a platter.\n\nMerlin was much pleased with this homely repast and the kindness of\nthe plowman and his wife; but he could not help seeing that though\neverything was neat and comfortable in the cottage, they seemed both\nto be sad and much cast down. He therefore questioned them on the\ncause of their sadness, and learned that they were miserable because\nthey had no children.\n\nThe poor woman declared, with tears in her eyes, that she should be\nthe happiest creature in the world if she had a son; and although he\nwas no bigger than her husband's thumb, she would be satisfied.\n\nMerlin was so much amused with the idea of a boy no bigger than a\nman's thumb, that he made up his mind to pay a visit to the queen of\nthe fairies, and ask her to grant the poor woman's wish. The droll\nfancy of such a little person among the human race pleased the fairy\nqueen too, greatly, and she promised Merlin that the wish should be\ngranted. Accordingly, in a short time after, the plowman's wife had a\nson, who, wonderful to relate, was not a bit bigger than his father's\nthumb.\n\nThe fairy queen, wishing to see the little fellow thus born into the\nworld, came in at the window while the mother was sitting up in bed\nadmiring him. The queen kissed the child, and giving it the name\nof Tom Thumb, sent for some of the fairies, who dressed her little\nfavorite as she bade them.\n\n \"An oak-leaf hat he had for his crown;\n His shirt of web by spiders spun;\n With jacket wove of thistle's down;\n His trousers were of feathers done.\n His stockings, of apple-rind, they tie\n With eyelash from his mother's eye:\n His shoes were made of mouses' skin,\n Tann'd with the downy hair within.\"\n\nIt is remarkable that Tom never grew any larger than his father's\nthumb, which was only of an ordinary size; but as he got older he\nbecame very cunning and full of tricks. When he was old enough to\nplay with the boys, and had lost all his own cherry-stones, he used to\ncreep into the bags of his playfellows, fill his pockets, and, getting\nout unseen, would again join in the game.\n\nOne day, however, as he was coming out of a bag of cherry-stones,\nwhere he had been pilfering as usual, the boy to whom it belonged\nchanced to see him. \"Ah, ha! my little Tommy,\" said the boy, \"so I\nhave caught you stealing my cherry-stones at last, and you shall be\nrewarded for your thievish tricks.\" On saying this, he drew the string\ntight round his neck, and gave the bag such a hearty shake, that poor\nlittle Tom's legs, thighs, and body were sadly bruised. He roared out\nwith the pain, and begged to be let out, promising never to be guilty\nof such bad practices again.\n\nA short time afterwards his mother was making a batter pudding, and\nTom being very anxious to see how it was made, climbed up to the edge\nof the bowl; but unfortunately his foot slipped and he plumped over\nhead and ears into the batter, unseen by his mother, who stirred him\ninto the pudding-bag, and put him in the pot to boil.\n\nThe batter had filled Tom's mouth, and prevented him from crying; but,\non feeling the hot water, he kicked and struggled so much in the pot,\nthat his mother thought that the pudding was bewitched, and, instantly\npulling it out of the pot, she threw it to the door. A poor tinker,\nwho was passing by, lifted up the pudding, and, putting it into his\nbudget, he then walked off. As Tom had now got his mouth cleared of\nthe batter, he then began to cry aloud, which so frightened the tinker\nthat he flung down the pudding and ran away. The pudding being broke\nto pieces by the fall, Tom crept out covered over with the batter, and\nwith difficulty walked home. His mother, who was very sorry to see her\ndarling in such a woful state, put him into a tea-cup, and soon washed\noff the batter; after which she kissed him, and laid him in bed.\n\nSoon after the adventure of the pudding, Tom's mother went to milk her\ncow in the meadow, and she took him along with her. As the wind was\nvery high, fearing lest he should be blown away, she tied him to a\nthistle with a piece of fine thread. The cow soon saw the oak-leaf\nhat, and, liking the look of it, took poor Tom and the thistle at one\nmouthful. While the cow was chewing the thistle Tom was afraid of her\ngreat teeth, which threatened to crush him to pieces, and he roared\nout as loud as he could, \"Mother, mother!\"\n\n\"Where are you, Tommy, my dear Tommy?\" said his mother.\n\n\"Here, mother,\" replied he, \"in the cow's mouth.\"\n\nHis mother began to cry and wring her hands; but the cow, surprised\nat the odd noise in her throat, opened her mouth and let Tom drop out.\nFortunately his mother caught him in her apron as he was falling to\nthe ground, or he would have been dreadfully hurt. She then put Tom in\nher bosom and ran home with him.\n\nTom's father made him a whip of a barley straw to drive the cattle\nwith, and having one day gone into the fields, he slipped a foot and\nrolled into the furrow. A raven, which was flying over, picked him\nup, and flew with him to the top of a giant's castle that was near the\nsea-side, and there left him.\n\nTom was in a dreadful state, and did not know what to do; but he was\nsoon more dreadfully frightened; for old Grumbo the giant came up to\nwalk on the terrace, and seeing Tom, he took him up and swallowed him\nlike a pill.\n\nThe giant had no sooner swallowed Tom than he began to repent what he\nhad done; for Tom began to kick and jump about so much that he felt\nvery uncomfortable, and at last threw him up again into the sea. A\nlarge fish swallowed Tom the moment he fell into the sea, which was\nsoon after caught, and bought for the table of King Arthur. When\nthey opened the fish in order to cook it, everyone was astonished\nat finding such a little boy, and Tom was quite delighted to be out\nagain. They carried him to the King, who made Tom his dwarf, and he\nsoon grew a great favorite at court; for by his tricks and gambols he\nnot only amused the King and Queen, but also all the Knights of the\nRound Table.\n\nIt is said that when the King rode out on horseback, he often took\nTom along with him, and if a shower came on, he used to creep into his\nMajesty's waistcoat pocket, where he slept till the rain was over.\n\nKing Arthur one day asked Tom about his parents, wishing to know if\nthey were as small as he was, and whether rich or poor. Tom told the\nKing that his father and mother were as tall as any of the sons about\ncourt, but rather poor. On hearing this, the King carried Tom to his\ntreasury, the place where he kept all his money, and told him to take\nas much money as he could carry home to his parents, which made the\npoor little fellow caper with joy. Tom went immediately to fetch a\npurse, which was made of a water-bubble, and then returned to the\ntreasury, where he got a silver three-penny piece to put into it.\n\nOur little hero had some trouble in lifting the burden upon his back;\nbut he at last succeeded in getting it placed to his mind, and set\nforward on his journey. However, without meeting with any accident\nand after resting himself more than a hundred times by the way, in two\ndays and two nights he reached his father's house in safety.\n\nTom had traveled forty-eight hours with a huge silver-piece on his\nback, and was almost tired to death, when his mother ran out to meet\nhim, and carried him into the house.\n\nTom's parents were both happy to see him, and the more so as he had\nbrought such an amazing sum of money with him; but the poor little\nfellow was excessively wearied, having traveled half a mile in\nforty-eight hours, with a huge silver threepenny-piece on his back.\nHis mother, in order to recover him, placed him in a walnut shell by\nthe fireside, and feasted him for three days on a hazel-nut, which\nmade him very sick; for a whole nut used to serve him a month.\n\nTom was soon well again; but as there had been a fall of rain, and the\nground was very wet, he could not travel back to King Arthur's Court;\ntherefore his mother, one day when the wind was blowing in that\ndirection, made a little parasol of cambric paper, and tying Tom\nto it, she gave him a puff into the air with her mouth, which soon\ncarried him to the King's palace.\n\nJust at the time when Tom came flying across the courtyard, the cook\nhappened to be passing with the King's great bowl of porridge, which\nwas a dish his Majesty was very fond of; but unfortunately the poor\nlittle fellow fell plump into the middle of it, and splashed the hot\nporridge about the cook's face.\n\nThe cook, who was an ill-natured fellow, being in a terrible rage at\nTom for frightening and scalding him with the porridge, went straight\nto the King, and said that Tom had jumped into the royal porridge, and\nthrown it down out of mere mischief. The King was so enraged when\nhe heard this, that he ordered Tom to be seized and tried for high\ntreason; and there being no person who dared to plead for him, he was\ncondemned to be beheaded immediately.\n\nOn hearing this dreadful sentence pronounced, poor Tom fell\na-trembling with fear, but, seeing no means of escape, and observing a\nmiller close to him gaping with his great mouth, as country boobies\ndo at a fair, he took a leap, and fairly jumped down his throat. This\nexploit was done with such activity that not one person present saw\nit, and even the miller did not know the trick which Tom had played\nupon him. Now, as Tom had disappeared, the court broke up, and the\nmiller went home to his mill.\n\nWhen Tom heard the mill at work he knew he was clear of the court, and\ntherefore he began to roll and tumble about, so that the poor miller\ncould get no rest, thinking he was bewitched; so he sent for a doctor.\nWhen the doctor came, Tom began to dance and sing; and the doctor,\nbeing as much frightened as the miller, sent in haste for five other\ndoctors and twenty learned men.\n\nWhen they were debating about this extraordinary case, the miller\nhappened to yawn, when Tom, seizing the chance, made another jump, and\nalighted safely upon his feet on the middle of the table.\n\nThe miller, who was very much provoked at being tormented by such a\nlittle pigmy creature, fell into a terrible rage, and, laying hold\nof Tom, ran to the King with him; but his Majesty, being engaged with\nstate affairs, ordered him to be taken away, and kept in custody till\nhe sent for him.\n\nThe cook was determined that Tom should not slip out of his hands this\ntime, so he put him into a mouse-trap, and left him to peep through\nthe wires. Tom had remained in the trap a whole week, when he was sent\nfor by King Arthur, who pardoned him for throwing down the porridge,\nand took him again into favor. On account of his wonderful feats of\nactivity, Tom was knighted by the King, and went under the name of the\nrenowned Sir Thomas Thumb. As Tom's clothes had suffered much in the\nbatter-pudding, the porridge, and the insides of the giant, miller,\nand fishes, his Majesty ordered him a new suit of clothes, and to be\nmounted as a knight.\n\n \"Of Butterfly's wings his shirt was made,\n His boots of chicken's hide;\n And by a nimble fairy blade,\n Well learned in the tailoring trade,\n His clothing was supplied--\n A needle dangled by his side;\n A dapper mouse he used to ride,\n Thus strutted Tom in stately pride!\"\n\nIt was certainly very diverting to see Tom in this dress, and mounted\non the mouse, as he rode out a-hunting with the King and nobility, who\nwere all ready to expire with laughter at Tom and his fine prancing\ncharger.\n\nOne day, as they were riding by a farmhouse, a large cat, which was\nlurking about the door, made a spring, and seized both Tom and his\nmouse. She then ran up a tree with them, and was beginning to devour\nthe mouse; but Tom boldly drew his sword, and attacked the cat so\nfiercely that she let them both fall, when one of the nobles caught\nhim in his hat, and laid him on a bed of down, in a little ivory\ncabinet.\n\nThe queen of the fairies came soon after to pay Tom a visit, and\ncarried him back to Fairyland, where he lived several years. During\nhis residence there, King Arthur, and all the persons who knew Tom,\nhad died; and as he was desirous of being again at court, the fairy\nqueen, after dressing him in a suit of clothes, sent him flying\nthrough the air to the palace, in the days of King Thunstone, the\nsuccessor of Arthur. Every one flocked round to see him, and being\ncarried to the King, he was asked who he was--whence he came--and\nwhere he lived? Tom answered:\n\n \"My name is Tom Thumb,\n From the fairies I've come.\n When King Arthur shone,\n His Court was my home.\n In me he delighted,\n By him I was knighted;\n Did you never hear of Sir Thomas Thumb?\"\n\nThe King was so charmed with this address that he ordered a little\nchair to be made, in order that Tom might sit upon his table, and also\na palace of gold, a span high, with a door an inch wide, to live in.\nHe also gave him a coach, drawn by six small mice.\n\nThe Queen was so enraged at the honor paid to Sir Thomas that she\nresolved to ruin him, and told the King that the little knight had\nbeen saucy to her.\n\nThe King sent for Tom in great haste, but being fully aware of the\ndanger of royal anger, he crept into an empty snail-shell, where he\nlay for a long time, until he was almost starved with hunger; but at\nlast he ventured to peep out, and seeing a fine large butterfly on\nthe ground, near his hiding-place, he approached very cautiously, and\ngetting himself placed astride on it, was immediately carried up into\nthe air. The butterfly flew with him from tree to tree and from field\nto field, and at last he returned to the court, where the King and\nnobility all strove to catch him; but at last poor Tom fell from his\nseat into a watering-pot, in which he was almost drowned.\n\nWhen the Queen saw him she was in a rage, and said he should be\nbeheaded; and he was again put into a mouse-trap until the time of his\nexecution.\n\nHowever, a cat, observing something alive in the trap, patted it about\ntill the wires broke, and set Thomas at liberty.\n\nThe King received Tom again into favor, which he did not live to\nenjoy, for a large spider one day attacked him; and although he drew\nhis sword and fought well, yet the spider's poisonous breath at last\novercame him:\n\n \"He fell dead on the ground where he stood,\n And the spider suck'd every drop of his blood.\"\n\nKing Thunstone and his whole court were so sorry at the loss of their\nlittle favorite, that they went into mourning, and raised a fine white\nmarble monument over his grave, with the following epitaph:\n\n \"Here lies Tom Thumb, King Arthur's knight,\n Who died by a spider's cruel bite.\n He was well known in Arthur's Court,\n Where he afforded gallant sport;\n He rode at tilt and tournament,\n And on a mouse a-hunting went.\n Alive he filled the Court with mirth;\n His death to sorrow soon gave birth.\n Wipe, wipe your eyes, and shake your head\n And cry--Alas! Tom Thumb is dead!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJACK THE GIANT-KILLER\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nWhen good King Arthur reigned, there lived near the Land's End of\nEngland, in the county of Cornwall, a farmer who had one only son\ncalled Jack. He was brisk and of ready, lively wit, so that nobody or\nnothing could worst him.\n\nIn those days the Mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge giant named\nCormoran. He was eighteen feet in height, and about three yards round\nthe waist, of a fierce and grim countenance, the terror of all the\nneighboring towns and villages. He lived in a cave in the midst of\nthe Mount, and whenever he wanted food he would wade over to the\nmainland, where he would furnish himself with whatever came in his\nway. Everybody at his approach ran out of their houses, while he\nseized on their cattle, making nothing of carrying half-a-dozen oxen\non his back at a time; and as for their sheep and hogs, he would tie\nthem round his waist like a bunch of tallow-dips. He had done this\nfor many years, so that all Cornwall was in despair.\n\nOne day Jack happened to be at the town hall when the magistrates were\nsitting in council about the giant. He asked, \"What reward will be\ngiven to the man who kills Cormoran?\" \"The giant's treasure,\" they\nsaid, \"will be the reward.\" Quoth Jack, \"Then let me undertake it.\"\n\nSo he got a horn, shovel, and pickaxe, and went over to the Mount in\nthe beginning of a dark winter's evening, when he fell to work, and\nbefore morning had dug a pit twenty-two feet deep, and nearly as\nbroad, covering it over with long sticks and straw. Then he strewed a\nlittle mold over it, so that it appeared like plain ground. Jack then\nplaced himself on the opposite side of the pit, farthest from the\ngiant's lodging, and, just at the break of day, he put the horn to\nhis mouth, and blew. This noise roused the giant, who rushed from his\ncave, crying: \"You incorrigible villain, are you come here to disturb\nmy rest? You shall pay dearly for this. Satisfaction I will have, and\nthis it shall be, I will take you whole and broil you for breakfast.\"\nHe had no sooner uttered this, than he tumbled into the pit, and made\nthe very foundations of the Mount to shake. \"Oh Giant,\" quoth Jack,\n\"where are you now? Oh, faith, you are gotten now into a tight place,\nwhere I will surely plague you for your threatening words; what do you\nthink now of broiling me for your breakfast? Will no other diet serve\nyou but poor Jack?\" Then having tantalized the giant for a while, he\ngave him a most weighty knock with his pickaxe on the very crown of\nhis head, and killed him on the spot.\n\nJack then filled up the pit with earth, and went to search the cave,\nwhich he found contained much treasure. When the magistrates heard of\nthis they made a declaration he should henceforth be termed:\n\n JACK THE GIANT-KILLER\n\nand presented him with a sword and a belt, on which were written these\nwords embroidered in letters of gold:\n\n \"Here's the right valiant Cornish man.\n Who slew the giant Cormoran.\"\n\nThe news of Jack's victory soon spread over all the West of England,\nso that another giant, named Blunderbore, hearing of it, vowed to be\nrevenged on Jack, if ever he should light on him. This giant was the\nlord of an enchanted castle situated in the midst of a lonesome wood.\nNow Jack, about four months afterwards, walking near this wood in his\njourney to Wales, being weary, seated himself near a pleasant fountain\nand fell fast asleep. While he was sleeping, the giant, coming there\nfor water, discovered him, and knew him to be the far-famed Jack the\nGiant-killer by the lines written on the belt. Without ado, he took\nJack on his shoulders and carried him towards his castle. Now, as they\npassed through a thicket, the rustling of the boughs awakened Jack,\nwho was strangely surprised to find himself in the clutches of the\ngiant. His terror was only begun, for, on entering the castle, he saw\nthe ground strewed with human bones, and the giant told him his own\nwould ere long be among them. After this the giant locked poor Jack in\nan immense chamber, leaving him there while he went to fetch another\ngiant, his brother, living in the same wood, who might share in the\nmeal on Jack.\n\nAfter waiting some time Jack, on going to the window beheld afar\noff the two giants coming towards the castle. \"Now,\" quoth Jack to\nhimself, \"my death or my deliverance is at hand.\"\n\nNow, there were strong cords in a corner of the room in which Jack\nwas, and two of these he took, and made a strong noose at the end; and\nwhile the giants were unlocking the iron gate of the castle he threw\nthe ropes over each of their heads. Then he drew the other ends across\na beam, and pulled with all his might, so that he throttled them.\nThen, when he saw they were black in the face, he slid down the rope,\nand drawing his sword, slew them both. Then, taking the giant's keys,\nand unlocking the rooms, he found three fair ladies tied by the hair\nof their heads, almost starved to death. \"Sweet ladies,\" quoth Jack,\n\"I have destroyed this monster and his brutish brother, and obtained\nyour liberty.\" This said he presented them with the keys, and so\nproceeded on his journey to Wales.\n\nJack made the best of his way by traveling as fast as he could, but\nlost his road, and was benighted, and could find no habitation until,\ncoming into a narrow valley, he found a large house, and in order\nto get shelter took courage to knock at the gate. But what was his\nsurprise when there came forth a monstrous giant with two heads; yet\nhe did not appear so fiery as the others were, for he was a Welsh\ngiant, and what he did was by private and secret malice under the\nfalse show of friendship. Jack, having told his condition to the\ngiant, was shown into a bedroom, where, in the dead of night, he heard\nhis host in another apartment muttering these words:\n\n \"Though here you lodge with me this night,\n You shall not see the morning light:\n My club shall dash your brains outright!\"\n\n\"Say'st thou so,\" quoth Jack; \"that is like one of your Welsh tricks,\nyet I hope to be cunning enough for you.\" Then, getting out of bed, he\nlaid a log in the bed in his stead, and hid himself in a corner of\nthe room. At the dead time of the night in came the Welsh giant, who\nstruck several heavy blows on the bed with his club, thinking he had\nbroken every bone in Jack's skin. The next morning Jack, laughing in\nhis sleeve, gave him hearty thanks for his night's lodging. \"How\nhave you rested?\" quoth the giant; \"did you not feel anything in the\nnight?\" \"No,\" quoth Jack, \"nothing but a rat, which gave me two or\nthree slaps with her tail.\" With that, greatly wondering, the giant\nled Jack to breakfast, bringing him a bowl containing four gallons of\nhasty pudding. Being loth to let the giant think it too much for him,\nJack put a large leather bag under his loose coat, in such a way that\nhe could convey the pudding into it without its being perceived. Then,\ntelling the giant he would show him a trick, taking a knife, Jack\nripped open the bag, and out came all the hasty pudding. Whereupon,\nsaying, \"Odds splutters her nails, her can do that trick herself,\" the\nmonster took the knife, and ripping open his belly, fell down dead.\n\nNow, it happened in these days that King Arthur's only son asked his\nfather to give him a large sum of money, in order that he might go and\nseek his fortune in the principality of Wales, where lived a beautiful\nlady possessed with seven evil spirits. The King did his best to\npersuade his son from it, but in vain; so at last gave way and the\nPrince set out with two horses, one loaded with money, the other for\nhimself to ride upon. Now, after several days' travel, he came to a\nmarket-town in Wales, where he beheld a vast crowd of people gathered\ntogether. The Prince asked the reason of it, and was told that they\nhad arrested a corpse for several large sums of money which the\ndeceased owed when he died. The Prince replied that it was a pity\ncreditors should be so cruel, and said, \"Go bury the dead, and let his\ncreditors come to my lodging, and there their debts shall be paid.\"\nThey came, in such great numbers that before night he had only\ntwopence left for himself.\n\nNow Jack the Giant-killer, coming that way, was so taken with the\ngenerosity of the Prince, that he desired to be his servant. This\nbeing agreed upon, the next morning they set forward on their journey\ntogether, when, as they were riding out of the town, an old woman\ncalled after the Prince, saying, \"He has owed me twopence these seven\nyears; pray pay me as well as the rest.\" Putting his hand into his\npocket, the Prince gave the woman all he had left, so that after their\nday's food, which cost what small store Jack had by him, they were\nwithout a penny between them.\n\nWhen the sun got low, the King's son said, \"Jack, since we have no\nmoney, where can we lodge this night?\"\n\nBut Jack replied, \"Master, we'll do well enough, for I have an uncle\nlives within two miles of this place; he is a huge and monstrous giant\nwith three heads; he'll fight five hundred men in armor, and make them\nto fly before him.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" quoth the Prince, \"what shall we do there? He'll certainly\nchop us up at a mouthful. Nay, we are scarce enough to fill one of his\nhollow teeth!\"\n\n\"It is no matter for that,\" quoth Jack; \"I myself will go before and\nprepare the way for you; therefore stop here and wait till I return.\"\nJack then rode away at full speed, and coming to the gate of the\ncastle, he knocked so loud that he made the neighboring hills resound.\nThe giant roared out at this like thunder, \"Who's there?\"\n\nJack answered, \"None but your poor cousin Jack.\"\n\nQuoth he, \"What news with my poor cousin Jack?\"\n\nHe replied, \"Dear uncle, bad news, God willing!\"\n\n\"Prithee,\" quoth the giant, \"what bad news can come to me? I am a\ngiant with three heads, and besides thou knowest I can fight five\nhundred men in armor, and make them fly like chaff before the wind.\"\n\n\"Oh, but,\" quoth Jack, \"here's the King's son a-coming with a thousand\nmen in armor to kill you and destroy all that you have!\"\n\n\"Oh, cousin Jack,\" said the giant, \"this is bad news indeed! I will\nimmediately run and hide myself, and thou shalt lock, bolt, and bar\nme in, and keep the keys until the Prince is gone.\" Having secured\nthe giant, Jack fetched his master, when they made themselves heartily\nmerry whilst the poor giant lay trembling in a vault under the ground.\n\nEarly in the morning Jack furnished his master with a fresh supply of\ngold and silver, and then sent him three miles forward on his journey,\nat which time the Prince was pretty well out of the smell of the\ngiant. Jack then returned, and let the giant out of the vault, who\nasked what he should give him for keeping the castle from destruction.\n\"Why,\" quoth Jack, \"I want nothing but the old coat and cap, together\nwith the old rusty sword and slippers which are at your bed's head.\"\n\nQuoth the giant: \"You know not what you ask; they are the most\nprecious things I have. The coat will keep you invisible, the cap will\ntell you all you want to know, the sword cuts asunder whatever you\nstrike, and the shoes are of extraordinary swiftness. But you have\nbeen very serviceable to me, therefore take them with all my heart.\"\nJack thanked his uncle, and then went off with them. He soon overtook\nhis master and they quickly arrived at the house of the lady the\nPrince sought, who, finding the Prince to be a suitor, prepared a\nsplendid banquet for him. After the repast was concluded, she told\nhim she had a task for him. She wiped his mouth with a handkerchief,\nsaying, \"You must show me that handkerchief to-morrow morning, or\nelse you will lose your head.\" With that she put it in her bosom.\nThe Prince went to bed in great sorrow, but Jack's cap of knowledge\ninformed him how it was to be obtained. In the middle of the night she\ncalled upon her familiar spirit to carry her to Lucifer. But Jack put\non his coat of darkness and his shoes of swiftness, and was there as\nsoon as she was. When she entered the place of the demon, she gave the\nhandkerchief to him, and he laid it upon a shelf, whence Jack took it\nand brought it to his master, who showed it to the lady next day, and\nso saved his life. On that day, she gave the Prince a kiss and told\nhim he must show her the lips to-morrow morning that she kissed last\nnight, or lose his head.\n\n\"Ah!\" he replied, \"if you kiss none but mine, I will.\"\n\n\"That is neither here nor there,\" said she; \"if you do not, death's\nyour portion!\"\n\nAt midnight she went as before, and was angry with the demon for\nletting the handkerchief go. \"But now,\" quoth she, \"I will be too\nhard for the King's son, for I will kiss thee and he is to show me thy\nlips.\" Which she did, and Jack, when she was not standing by, cut off\nLucifer's head and, brought it under his invisible coat to his master,\nwho the next morning pulled it out by the horns before the lady. This\nbroke the enchantment and the evil spirit left her, and she appeared\nin all her beauty. They were married the next morning, and soon\nafter went to the Court of King Arthur, where Jack for his many great\nexploits, was made one of the Knights of the Round Table.\n\nJack soon went searching for giants again, but he had not ridden\nfar, when he saw a cave, near the entrance of which he beheld a giant\nsitting upon a block of timber, with a knotted iron club by his side.\nHis goggle eyes were like flames of fire, his countenance grim and\nugly, and his cheeks like a couple of large flitches of bacon, while\nthe bristles of his beard resembled rods of iron wire, and the locks\nthat hung down upon his brawny shoulders were like curled snakes or\nhissing adders. Jack alighted from his horse, and, putting on the coat\nof darkness, went up close to the giant, and said softly, \"Oh! are you\nthere? It will not be long before I take you fast by the beard.\" The\ngiant all this while could not see him, on account of his invisible\ncoat, so that Jack, coming up close to the monster, struck a blow\nwith his sword at his head, but, missing his aim, he cut off the nose\ninstead. At this, the giant roared like claps of thunder, and began to\nlay about him with his iron club like one stark mad. But Jack, running\nbehind, drove his sword up to the hilt in the giant's back, so that he\nfell down dead. This done, Jack cut off the giant's head, and sent\nit, with his brother's also, to King Arthur, by a wagoner he hired for\nthat purpose.\n\nJack now resolved to enter the giant's cave in search of his treasure,\nand, passing along through a great many windings and turnings, he came\nat length to a large room paved with freestone, at the upper end of\nwhich was a boiling caldron, and on the right hand a large table, at\nwhich the giant used to dine. Then he came to a window, barred with\niron, through which he looked and beheld a vast number of miserable\ncaptives, who, seeing him, cried out: \"Alas! young man, art thou come\nto be one amongst us in this miserable den?\"\n\n\"Ay,\" quoth Jack, \"but pray tell me what is the meaning of your\ncaptivity?\"\n\n\"We are kept here,\" said one, \"till such time as the giants have a\nwish to feast, and then the fattest among us is slaughtered! And many\nare the times they have dined upon murdered men!\"\n\n\"Say you so,\" quoth Jack, and straightway unlocked the gate and let\nthem free, who all rejoiced like condemned men at sight of a pardon.\nThen searching the giant's coffers, he shared the gold and silver\nequally amongst them and took them to a neighboring castle, where they\nall feasted and made merry over their deliverance.\n\nBut in the midst of all this mirth a messenger brought news that\nThunderdell, a giant with two heads, having heard of the death of his\nkinsman, had come from the northern dales to be revenged on Jack, and\nwas within a mile of the castle, the country people flying before him\nlike chaff. But Jack was not a bit daunted, and said, \"Let him come! I\nhave a tool to quiet him; and you, ladies and gentlemen, walk out into\nthe garden, and you shall witness this giant Thunderdell's death and\ndestruction.\"\n\nThe castle was situated in the midst of a small island surrounded by\na moat thirty feet deep and twenty feet wide, over which lay a\ndrawbridge. So Jack employed men to cut through this bridge on\nboth sides, nearly to the middle; and then, dressing himself in\nhis invisible coat, he marched against the giant with his sword\nof sharpness. Although the giant could not see Jack, he smelt his\napproach, and cried out in these words:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum!\n I smell the blood of an Englishman!\n Be he alive or be he dead,\n I'll grind his bones to make me bread!\"\n\n\"Say'st thou so,\" said Jack; \"then thou art a monstrous miller\nindeed.\"\n\nThe giant cried out again, \"Art thou that villain who killed my\nkinsmen? Then I will tear thee with my teeth, suck thy blood, and\ngrind thy bones to powder.\"\n\n\"You'll have to catch me first,\" quoth Jack, and throwing off his\ninvisible coat, so that the giant might see him, and putting on his\nshoes of swiftness, he ran from the giant, who followed like a walking\ncastle, so that the very foundations of the earth seemed to shake at\nevery step. Jack led him a long dance, in order that the gentlemen and\nladies might see; and at last to end the matter, ran lightly over\nthe drawbridge, the giant, in full speed, pursuing him with his club.\nThen, coming to the middle of the bridge, the giant's great weight\nbroke it down, and he tumbled headlong into the water, where he rolled\nand wallowed like a whale. Jack, standing by the moat, laughed at\nhim all the while; but though the giant foamed to hear him scoff, and\nplunged from place to place in the moat, yet he could not get out to\nbe revenged. Jack at length got a cart rope and cast it over the two\nheads of the giant and drew him ashore by a team of horses, and then\ncut off both his heads with his sword of sharpness, and sent them to\nKing Arthur.\n\nAfter some time spent in mirth and pastime, Jack, taking leave of the\nknights and ladies, set out for new adventures. Through many woods he\npassed, and came at length to the foot of a high mountain. Here, late\nat night, he found a lonesome house, and knocked at the door, which\nwas opened by an aged man with a head as white as snow. \"Father,\"\nsaid Jack, \"can you lodge a benighted traveler that has lost his way?\"\n\"Yes,\" said the old man; \"you are right welcome to my poor cottage.\"\nWhereupon Jack entered, and down they sat together, and the old man\nbegan to speak as follows: \"Son, I see by your belt you are the great\nconqueror of giants, and behold, my son, on the top of this mountain\nis an enchanted castle; this is kept by a giant named Galligantua, and\nhe, by the help of an old conjurer, betrays many knights and ladies\ninto his castle, where by magic art they are transformed into sundry\nshapes and forms. But above all, I grieve for a duke's daughter, whom\nthey fetched from her father's garden, carrying her through the air in\na burning chariot drawn by fiery dragons. When they secured her within\nthe castle, they transformed her into a white hind. And though many\nknights have tried to break the enchantment, and work her deliverance,\nyet no one could accomplish it, on account of two dreadful griffins\nwhich are placed at the castle gate and which destroy every one who\ncomes near. But you, my son, may pass by them undiscovered, then on\nthe gates of the castle you will find engraven in large letters how\nthe spell may be broken.\" Jack gave the old man his hand, and promised\nthat in the morning he would venture his life to free the lady.\n\nIn the morning Jack arose and put on his invisible coat and magic cap\nand shoes, and prepared himself for the fray. Now, when he had reached\nthe top of the mountain he soon discovered the two fiery griffins, but\npassed them without fear, because of his invisible coat. When he\nhad got beyond them, he found upon the gates of the castle a golden\ntrumpet hung by a silver chain, under which these lines were engraved:\n\n \"Whoever shall this trumpet blow,\n Shall soon the giant overthrow,\n And break the black enchantment straight;\n So all shall be in happy state.\"\n\nJack had no sooner read this but he blew the trumpet, at which the\ncastle trembled to its vast foundations, and the giant and conjurer\nwere in horrid confusion, biting their thumbs and tearing their hair,\nknowing their wicked reign was at an end. Then the giant stooping to\ntake up his club, Jack at one blow cut off his head; whereupon the\nconjurer, mounting up into the air, was carried away in a whirlwind.\nThen the enchantment was broken, and all the lords and ladies who\nhad so long been transformed into birds and beasts returned to their\nproper shapes, and the castle vanished away in a cloud of smoke. This\nbeing done, the head of Galligantua was likewise, in the usual manner,\nconveyed to the Court of King Arthur, where, the very next day,\nJack followed, with the knights and ladies who had been delivered.\nWhereupon, as a reward for his good services, the King prevailed upon\nthe duke to bestow his daughter in marriage on honest Jack. So married\nthey were, and the whole kingdom was filled with joy at the wedding.\nFurthermore, the King bestowed on Jack a noble castle, with a very\nbeautiful estate thereto belonging, where he and his lady lived in\ngreat joy and happiness all the rest of their days.\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE SILLIES\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter,\nand she was courted by a gentleman. Every evening he used to come and\nsee her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used\nto be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper. So one\nevening she had gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look\nup at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw a mallet stuck\nin one of the beams. It must have been there a long, long time,\nbut somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began\na-thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that mallet\nthere, for she said to herself: \"Suppose him and me was to be married,\nand we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come\ndown into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I'm doing now, and the\nmallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it\nwould be!\" And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself\ndown and began a-crying.\n\nWell, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long\ndrawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she\nfound her sitting on the settle crying, and the beer running over the\nfloor. \"Why, whatever is the matter?\" said her mother. \"Oh, mother!\"\nsays she, \"look at that horrid mallet! Suppose we was to be married,\nand was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to\nthe cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head\nand kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!\" \"Dear, dear! what\na dreadful thing it would be!\" said the mother, and she sat her down\nbeside the daughter and started crying too. Then after a bit the\nfather began to wonder that they didn't come back, and he went down\ninto the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat\ncrying, and the beer running all over the floor. \"Whatever is the\nmatter?\" says he. \"Why,\" says the mother, \"look at that horrid mallet.\nJust suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married,\nand was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down\ninto the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his\nhead and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!\" \"Dear, dear,\ndear! so it would!\" said the father, and he sat himself down aside of\nthe other two, and started a-crying.\n\nNow the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself,\nand at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were\nafter; and there they three sat crying side by side, and the beer\nrunning all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap.\nThen he said: \"Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and\nletting the beer run all over the floor?\" \"Oh!\" says the father, \"look\nat that horrid mallet! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married,\nand was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down\ninto the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on\nhis head and kill him!\" And then they all started crying worse than\nbefore. But the gentleman burst out laughing, and reached up and\npulled out the mallet, and then he said: \"I've traveled many miles,\nand I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I\nshall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger\nsillies than you three, then I'll come back and marry your daughter.\"\nSo he wished them good-by, and started off on his travels, and left\nthem all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.\n\nWell, he set out, and he traveled a long way, and at last he came to a\nwoman's cottage that had some grass growing on the roof. And the woman\nwas trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to the grass, and the\npoor thing durst not go. So the gentleman asked the woman what she was\ndoing. \"Why, lookye,\" she said, \"look at all that beautiful grass. I'm\ngoing to get the cow on to the roof to eat it. She'll be quite safe,\nfor I shall tie a string round her neck, and pass it down the chimney,\nand tie it to my wrist as I go about the house, so she can't fall off\nwithout my knowing it.\" \"Oh, you poor silly!\" said the gentleman,\n\"you should cut the grass and throw it down to the cow!\" But the woman\nthought it was easier to get the cow up the ladder than to get the\ngrass down, so she pushed her and coaxed her and got her up, and tied\na string round her neck, and passed it down the chimney, and fastened\nit to her own wrist. And the gentleman went on his way, but he hadn't\ngone far when the cow tumbled off the roof, and hung by the string\ntied round her neck, and it strangled her. And the weight of the cow\ntied to her wrist pulled the woman up the chimney, and she stuck fast\nhalfway and was smothered in the soot.\n\nWell, that was one big silly.\n\nAnd the gentleman went on and on, and he went to an inn to stop the\nnight, and they were so full at the inn that they had to put him in\na double-bedded room, and another traveler was to sleep in the other\nbed. The other man was a very pleasant fellow, and they got very\nfriendly together; but in the morning, when they were both getting up,\nthe gentleman was surprised to see the other hang his trousers on the\nknobs of the chest of drawers and run across the room and try to jump\ninto them, and he tried over and over again, and couldn't manage it;\nand the gentleman wondered whatever he was doing it for. At last he\nstopped and wiped his face with his handkerchief. \"Oh dear,\" he says,\n\"I do think trousers are the most awkwardest kind of clothes that ever\nwere. I can't think who could have invented such things. It takes me\nthe best part of an hour to get into mine every morning, and I get so\nhot! How do you manage yours?\" So the gentleman burst out laughing,\nand showed him how to put them on; and he was very much obliged to\nhim, and said he never should have thought of doing it that way.\n\nSo that was another big silly.\n\nThen the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a\nvillage, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond\nwas a crowd of people. And they had rakes, and brooms, and pitchforks,\nreaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was the matter.\n\"Why,\" they say, \"matter enough! Moon's tumbled into the pond, and we\ncan't rake her out anyhow!\" So the gentleman burst out laughing, and\ntold them to look up into the sky, and that it was only the shadow in\nthe water. But they wouldn't listen to him, and abused him shamefully\nand he got away as quick as he could.\n\nSo there were a whole lot of sillies bigger than the three sillies at\nhome. So the gentleman turned back home again and married the farmer's\ndaughter, and if they didn't live happy for ever after, that's nothing\nto do with you or me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nCELTIC STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nKING O'TOOLE AND HIS GOOSE\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nOch, I thought all the world, far and near, had heerd of King\nO'Toole--well, well, but the darkness of mankind is untellable! Well,\nsir, you must know, as you didn't hear it afore, that there was a\nKing, called King O'Toole, who was a fine old King in the old ancient\ntimes, long ago; and it was he that owned the churches in the early\ndays. The King, you see was the right sort; he was the real boy, and\nloved sport as he loved his life, and hunting in particular; and from\nthe rising o' the sun, up he got, and away he went over the mountains\nafter the deer; and fine times they were.\n\nWell, it was all mighty good, as long as the King had his health; but,\nyou see, in the course of time the King grew old, by raison he was\nstiff in his limbs, and when he got stricken in years, his heart\nfailed him, and he was lost entirely for want o' diversion, because he\ncouldn't go a-hunting no longer; and, by dad the poor King was obliged\nat last to get a goose to divert him. Oh, you may laugh, if you like,\nbut it's truth I'm telling you; and the way the goose diverted him was\nthis-a-way: You see, the goose used to swim across the lake, and go\ndiving for trout, and catch fish on a Friday for the King, and flew\nevery other day round about the lake, diverting the poor King. All\nwent on mighty well until, by dad, the goose got stricken in years\nlike her master, and couldn't divert him no longer, and then it was\nthat the poor King was lost entirely. The King was walkin' one mornin'\nby the edge of the lake, lamentin' his cruel fate, and thinking of\ndrowning himself, that could get no diversion in life, when all of\na sudden, turning round the corner, whom should he meet but a mighty\ndecent young man coming up to him.\n\n\"God save you,\" says the King to the young man.\n\n\"God save you kindly, King O'Toole,\" says the young man.\n\n\"True for you,\" says the King. \"I am King O'Toole,\" says he, \"prince\nand plennypennytinchery of these parts,\" says he; \"but how came ye to\nknow that?\" says he.\n\n\"Oh, never mind,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\nYou see it was Saint Kavin, sure enough--the saint himself in\ndisguise, and nobody else. \"Oh, never mind,\" says he, \"I know more\nthan that. May I make bold to ask how is your goose, King O'Toole?\"\nsays he.\n\n\"Blur-an-agers, how came ye to know about my goose?\" says the King.\n\n\"Oh, no matter; I was given to understand it,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\nAfter some more talk the King says, \"What are you?\"\n\n\"I'm an honest man,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"Well, honest man,\" says the King, \"and how is it you make your money\nso aisy?\"\n\n\"By makin' old things as good as new,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"Is it a tinker you are?\" says the King.\n\n\"No,\" says the saint; \"I'm no tinker by trade, King O'Toole; I've a\nbetter trade than a tinker,\" says he--\"what would you say,\" says he,\n\"If I made your old goose as good as new?\"\n\nMy dear, at the word of making his goose as good as new, you'd think\nthe poor old King's eyes were ready to jump out of his head. With that\nthe King whistled, and down came the poor goose, just like a hound,\nwaddling up to the poor cripple, her master, and as like him as two\npeas. The minute the saint clapt his eyes on the goose, \"I'll do the\njob for you,\" says he, \"King O'Toole.\"\n\n\"By _Jaminee_!\" says King O'Toole, \"if you do, I'll say you're the\ncleverest fellow in the seven parishes.\"\n\n\"Oh, by dad,\" says St. Kavin, \"you must say more nor that--my horn's\nnot so soft all out,\" says he, \"as to repair your old goose for\nnothing; what'll you gi' me if I do the job for you?--that's the\nchat,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"I'll give you whatever you ask,\" says the King; \"isn't that fair?\"\n\n\"Divil a fairer,\" says the saint, \"that's the way to do business.\nNow,\" says he, \"this is the bargain I'll make with you, King O'Toole:\nwill you gi' me all the ground the goose flies over, the first offer,\nafter I make her as good as new?\"\n\n\"I will,\" says the King.\n\n\"You won't go back o' your word?\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"Honor bright!\" says King O'Toole, holding out his fist.\n\n\"Honor bright!\" says Saint Kavin, back again, \"it's a bargain. Come\nhere!\" says he to the poor old goose--\"come here, you unfortunate ould\ncripple, and it's I that'll make you the sporting bird.\" With that,\nmy dear, he took up the goose by the two wings--\"Criss o' my cross an\nyou,\" says he, markin' her to grace with the blessed sign at the same\nminute--and throwing her up in the air, \"whew,\" says he, jist givin'\nher a blast to help her; and with that, my jewel, she took to her\nheels, flyin' like one o' the eagles themselves, and cutting as many\ncapers as a swallow before a shower of rain.\n\nWell, my dear, it was a beautiful sight to see the King standing with\nhis mouth open, looking at his poor old goose flying as light as a\nlark, and better than ever she was; and when she lit at his feet,\npatted her on the head, and \"_Mavourneen_,\" says he, \"but you are the\n_darlint_ o' the world.\"\n\n\"And what do you say to me,\" says Saint Kavin, \"for making her the\nlike?\"\n\n\"By Jabers,\" says the King, \"I say nothing beats the art o' man,\nbarring the bees.\"\n\n\"And do you say no more nor that?\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"And that I'm beholden to you,\" says the King.\n\n\"But will you gi' me all the ground the goose flew over?\" says Saint\nKavin.\n\n\"I will,\" says King O'Toole, \"and you're welcome to it,\" says he,\n\"though it's the last acre I have to give.\"\n\n\"But you'll keep your word true,\" says the saint.\n\n\"As true as the sun,\" says the King.\n\n\"It's well for you, King O'Toole, that you said that word,\" says he;\n\"for if you didn't say that word, the divil the bit o' your goose\nwould ever fly agin.\"\n\nWhen the King was as good as his word, Saint Kavin was pleased with\nhim, and then it was that he made himself known to the King. \"And,\"\nsays he, \"King O'Toole, you're a dacent man, for I only came here to\ntry you. You don't know me,\" says he, \"because I'm disguised.\"\n\n\"Musha! then,\" says the King, \"who are you?\"\n\n\"I'm Saint Kavin,\" said the saint, blessing himself.\n\n\"Oh, queen of heaven!\" says the King, making the sign of the cross\nbetween his eyes, and falling down on his knees before the saint; \"is\nit the great Saint Kavin,\" says he, \"that I've been discoursing all\nthis time without knowing it,\" says he, \"all as one as if he was a\nlump of a _gossoon_?--and so you're a saint?\" says the King.\n\n\"I am,\" says Saint Kavin.\n\n\"By Jabers, I thought I was only talking to a dacent boy,\" says the\nKing.\n\n\"Well, you know the difference now,\" says the saint. \"I'm Saint\nKavin,\" says he, \"the greatest of all the saints.\"\n\nAnd so the King had his goose as good as new, to divert him as long as\nhe lived; and the saint supported him after he came into his property,\nas I told you, until the day of his death--and that was soon after;\nfor the poor goose thought he was catching a trout one Friday; but,\nmy jewel, it was a mistake he made--and instead of a trout, it was a\nthieving horse-eel; and instead of the goose killing a trout for the\nKing's supper--by dad, the eel killed the King's goose--and small\nblame to him; but he didn't ate her, because he darn't ate what Saint\nKavin had laid his blessed hands on.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE HAUGHTY PRINCESS\n\nADAPTED BY PATRICK KENNEDY\n\n\nThere was once a very worthy King, whose daughter was the greatest\nbeauty that could be seen far or near, but she was as proud as\nLucifer, and no king or prince would she agree to marry. Her father\nwas tired out at last, and invited every king, and prince, and duke,\nand earl that he knew or didn't know to come to his court to give her\none trial more. They all came, and next day after breakfast they stood\nin a row in the lawn, and the Princess walked along in the front of\nthem to make her choice. One was fat, and says she: \"I won't have you,\nBeer-barrel!\" One was tall and thin, and to him she said, \"I won't\nhave you, Ramrod!\" To a white-faced man she said, \"I won't have you,\nPale Death;\" and to a red-cheeked man she said, \"I won't have you,\nCockscomb!\" She stopped a little before the last of all, for he was a\nfine man in face and form. She wanted to find some defect in him, but\nhe had nothing remarkable but a ring of brown curling hair under his\nchin. She admired him a little, and then carried it off with, \"I won't\nhave you, Whiskers!\"\n\nSo all went away, and the King was so vexed, he said to her, \"Now\nto punish your _impedence_, I'll give you to the first beggar-man or\nsinging _sthronshuch_ that calls;\" and, as sure as the hearth-money,\na fellow all over rags, with hair that came to his shoulders, and a\nbushy red beard all over his face, came next morning, and began to\nsing before the parlor window.\n\nWhen the song was over, the hall-door was opened, the singer asked in,\nthe priest brought, and the Princess married to Beardy. She roared and\nshe bawled, but her father didn't mind her. \"There,\" says he to the\nbridegroom, \"is five guineas for you. Take your wife out of my sight,\nand never let me lay eyes on you or her again.\"\n\nOff he led her, and dismal enough she was. The only thing that gave\nher relief was the tones of her husband's voice and his genteel\nmanners. \"Whose wood is this?\" said she, as they were going through\none. \"It belongs to the King you called Whiskers yesterday.\" He gave\nher the same answer about meadows and cornfields, and at last a fine\ncity. \"Ah, what a fool I was!\" said she to herself. \"He was a fine\nman, and I might have him for a husband.\" At last they were coming up\nto a poor cabin. \"Why are you bringing me here?\" says the poor lady.\n\"This was my house,\" said he, \"and now it's yours.\" She began to cry,\nbut she was tired and hungry, and she went in with him.\n\nOvoch! there was neither a table laid out, nor a fire burning, and she\nwas obliged to help her husband to light it, and boil their dinner,\nand clean up the place after; and next day he made her put on a stuff\ngown and a cotton handkerchief. When she had her house readied up, and\nno business to keep her employed, he brought home sallies [willows],\npeeled them, and showed her how to make baskets. But the hard twigs\nbruised her delicate fingers, and she began to cry. Well, then he\nasked her to mend their clothes, but the needle drew blood from her\nfingers, and she cried again. He couldn't bear to see her tears, so\nhe bought a creel of earthenware, and sent her to the market to sell\nthem. This was the hardest trial of all, but she looked so handsome\nand sorrowful, and had such a nice air about her, that all her pans,\nand jugs, and plates, and dishes were gone before noon, and the only\nmark of her old pride she showed was a slap she gave a buckeen across\nthe face when he axed her an impudent question.\n\nWell, her husband was so glad, he sent her with another creel the next\nday; but, faith! her luck was after deserting her. A drunken huntsman\ncame up riding, and his beast got in among her ware, and made _brishe_\nof every mother's son of 'em. She went home cryin', and her husband\nwasn't at all pleased. \"I see,\" said he, \"you're not fit for business.\nCome along, I'll get you a kitchen-maid's place in the palace. I know\nthe cook.\"\n\nSo the poor thing was obliged to stifle her pride once more. She was\nkept very busy, and the footman and the butler would be very impudent\nabout looking for a kiss, but she let a screech out of her the first\nattempt was made, and the cook gave the fellow such a lambasting with\nthe besom that he made no second offer. She went home to her husband\nevery night, and she carried broken victuals wrapped in papers in her\nside pockets.\n\nA week after she got service there was great bustle in the kitchen.\nThe King was going to be married, but no one knew who the bride was to\nbe. Well, in the evening the cook filled the Princess's pockets with\ncold meat and puddens, and, says she, \"Before you go, let us have a\nlook at the great doings in the big parlor.\" So they came near the\ndoor to get a peep, and who should come out but the King himself, as\nhandsome as you please, and no other but King Whiskers himself. \"Your\nhandsome helper must pay for her peeping,\" said he to the cook, \"and\ndance a jig with me.\" Whether she would or no, he held her hand and\nbrought her into the parlor. The fiddlers struck up, and away went\n_him_ with _her_. But they hadn't danced two steps when the meat and\nthe puddens flew out of her pockets. Every one roared out, and she\nflew to the door, crying piteously. But she was soon caught by the\nKing, and taken into the back parlor. \"Don't you know me, my darling?\"\nsaid he. \"I'm both King Whiskers, your husband the ballad-singer, and\nthe drunken huntsman. Your father knew me well enough when he gave you\nto me, and all was to drive your pride out of you.\" Well, she didn't\nknow how she was, with fright, and shame, and joy. Love was uppermost,\nanyhow, for she laid her head on her husband's breast and cried like a\nchild. The maids-of-honor soon had her away and dressed her as fine as\nhands and pins could do it; and there were her mother and father, too.\nWhile the company were wondering what would be the end of the handsome\ngirl and the King, he and his Queen, _who_ they didn't know in her\nfine clothes, came in, and such rejoicings and fine doings as there\nwas, none of us will ever see, anyway.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJACK AND HIS MASTER\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nA poor woman had three sons. The eldest and second eldest were\ncunning, clever fellows, but they called the youngest Jack the Fool,\nbecause they thought he was no better than a simpleton. The eldest got\ntired of staying at home, and said he'd go look for service. He stayed\naway a whole year, and then came back one day, dragging one foot after\nthe other, and a poor, wizened face on him, and he was as cross as two\nsticks. When he was rested and had got something to eat, he told\nthem how he had taken service with the Gray Churl of the Townland of\nMischance, and that the agreement was whoever would first say he was\nsorry for his bargain should get an inch wide of the skin of his back,\nfrom shoulder to hips, taken off. If it was the master, he should also\npay double wages; if it was the servant, he should get no wages at\nall. \"But the thief,\" says he, \"gave me so little to eat, and kept me\nso hard at work, that flesh and blood couldn't stand it; and when he\nasked me once, when I was in a passion, if I was sorry for my bargain,\nI was mad enough to say I was, and here I am disabled for life.\"\n\nVexed enough were the poor mother and brothers; and the second eldest\nsaid on the spot he'd go and take service with the Gray Churl, and\npunish him by all the annoyance he'd give him till he'd make him say\nhe was sorry for his agreement. \"Oh, won't I be glad to see the skin\ncoming off the old villain's back!\" said he. All they could say had\nno effect: he started off for the Townland of Mischance, and in a\ntwelvemonth he was back just as miserable and helpless as his brother.\n\nAll the poor mother could say didn't prevent Jack the Fool from\nstarting to see if he was able to regulate the Gray Churl. He agreed\nwith him for a year for twenty pounds, and the terms were the same.\n\n\"Now, Jack,\" said the Gray Churl, \"if you refuse to do anything you\nare able to do, you must lose a month's wages.\"\n\n\"I'm satisfied,\" said Jack; \"and if you stop me from doing a thing\nafter telling me to do it, you are to give me an additional month's\nwages.\"\n\n\"I am satisfied,\" said the master.\n\n\"Or if you blame me for obeying your orders, you must give me the\nsame.\"\n\n\"I am satisfied,\" said the master again.\n\nThe first day that Jack served he was fed very poorly, and was worked\nto the saddleskirts. Next day he came into the parlor just before the\ndinner was served up. They were taking the goose off the spit, but,\nwell becomes Jack, he whipped a knife off the dresser, and cut off one\nside of the breast, one leg and thigh, and one wing, and fell to. In\ncame the master, and began to abuse him for his assurance. \"Oh, you\nknow, master, you're to feed me, and wherever the goose goes won't\nhave to be filled again till supper. Are you sorry for our agreement?\"\n\nThe master was going to cry out he was, but he bethought himself in\ntime. \"Oh; no, not at all,\" said he.\n\n\"That's well,\" said Jack.\n\nNext day Jack was to go clamp turf on the bog. They weren't sorry\nto have him away from the kitchen at dinner time. He didn't find his\nbreakfast very heavy on his stomach; so he said to the mistress, \"I\nthink, ma'am, it will be better for me to get my dinner now, and not\nlose time coming home from the bog.\"\n\n\"That's true, Jack,\" said she. So she brought out a good cake, and a\nprint of butter, and a bottle of milk, thinking he'd take them away\nto the bog. But Jack kept his seat, and never drew rein till bread,\nbutter, and milk had gone down the red lane.\n\n\"Now, mistress,\" said he, \"I'll be earlier at my work tomorrow if I\nsleep comfortably on the sheltery side of a pile of dry peat on dry\ngrass, and not be coming here and going back. So you may as well give\nme my supper, and be done with the day's trouble.\" She gave him that,\nthinking he'd take it to the bog; but he fell to on the spot, and did\nnot leave a scrap to tell tales on him; and the mistress was a little\nastonished.\n\nHe called to speak to the master in the haggard, and said he, \"What\nare servants asked to do in this country after aten their supper?\"\n\n\"Nothing at all, but to go to bed.\"\n\n\"Oh, very well, sir.\" He went up on the stable-loft, stripped, and lay\ndown, and some one that saw him told the master. He came up.\n\n\"Jack, you anointed scoundrel, what do you mean?\"\n\n\"To go to sleep, master. The mistress, God bless her, is after giving\nme my breakfast, dinner, and supper, and yourself told me that bed was\nthe next thing. Do you blame me, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, you rascal, I do.\"\n\n\"Hand me out one pound thirteen and fourpence, if you please, sir.\"\n\n\"One divil and thirteen imps, you tinker! what for?\"\n\n\"Oh, I see, you've forgot your bargain. Are you sorry for it?\"\n\n\"Oh, ya--NO, I mean. I'll give you the money after your nap.\"\n\nNext morning early Jack asked how he'd be employed that day. \"You\nare to be holding the plow in that fallow, outside the paddock.\" The\nmaster went over about nine o'clock to see what kind of a plowman was\nJack, and what did he see but the little boy driving the bastes, and\nthe sock and coulter of the plow skimming along the sod, and Jack\npulling ding-dong agin' the horses.\n\n\"What are you doing, you contrary thief?\" said the master.\n\n\"An' ain't I strivin' to hold this divil of a plow, as you told me;\nbut that ounkrawn of a boy keeps whipping on the bastes in spite of\nall I say; will you speak to him?\"\n\n\"No, but I'll speak to you. Didn't you know, you bosthoon, that when I\nsaid 'holding the plow,' I meant reddening [plowing up] the ground?\"\n\n\"Faith, an' if you did, I wish you had said so. Do you blame me for\nwhat I have done?\"\n\nThe master caught himself in time, but he was so stomached\n[disconcerted], he said nothing.\n\n\"Go on and redden the ground now, you knave, as other plowmen do.\"\n\n\"An' are you sorry for our agreement?\"\n\n\"Oh, not at all, not at all!\"\n\nJack plowed away like a good workman all the rest of the day.\n\nIn a day or two the master bade him go and mind the cows in a field\nthat had half of it under young corn. \"Be sure, particularly,\" said\nhe, \"to keep Browney from the wheat; while she's out of mischief\nthere's no fear of the rest.\"\n\nAbout noon he went to see how Jack was doing his duty, and what did he\nfind but Jack asleep with his face to the sod, Browney grazing near a\nthorn-tree, one end of a long rope round her horns, and the other end\nround the tree, and the rest of the beasts all trampling and eating\nthe green wheat. Down came the switch on Jack.\n\n\"Jack, you vagabone, do you see what the cows are at?\"\n\n\"And do you blame me, master?\"\n\n\"To be sure, you lazy sluggard, I do.\"\n\n\"Hand me out one pound thirteen and fourpence, master. You said if I\nonly kept Browney out of mischief, the rest would, do no harm. There\nshe is as harmless as a lamb. Are you sorry for hiring me, master?\"\n\n\"To be--that is, not at all. I'll give you your money when you go to\ndinner. Now, understand me; don't let a cow go out of the field nor\ninto the wheat the rest of the day.\"\n\n\"Never fear, master!\" and neither did he. But the churl would rather\nthan a great deal he had not hired him.\n\nThe next day three heifers were missing, and the master bade Jack go\nin search of them.\n\n\"Where shall I look for them?\" said Jack.\n\n\"Oh, every place likely and unlikely for them all to be in.\"\n\nThe churl was getting very exact in his words. When he was coming into\nthe yard at dinner time, what work did he find Jack at but pulling\narmfuls of the thatch off the roof, and peeping into the holes he was\nmaking.\n\n\"What are you doing there, you rascal?\"\n\n\"Sure, I'm looking for the heifers, poor things!\"\n\n\"What would bring them there?\"\n\n\"I don't think anything could bring them in it; but I looked first\ninto the likely places, that is the cowhouses, and the pastures, and\nthe fields next 'em, and now I'm looking in the unlikeliest place I\ncan think of. Maybe it's not pleasing to you it is.\"\n\n\"And to be sure it isn't pleasing to me, you aggravating goose-cap!\"\n\n\"Please, sir, hand me one pound thirteen and fourpence before you sit\ndown to your dinner. I'm afraid it's sorrow that's on you for hiring\nme at all.\"\n\n\"May the div--oh, no; I'm not sorry. Will you begin, if you please,\nand put in the thatch again, just as if you were doing it for your\nmother's cabin?\"\n\n\"Oh, faith I will, sir, with a heart and a half;\" and by the time the\nfarmer came out from his dinner, Jack had the roof better than it was\nbefore, for he made the boy give him new straw.\n\nSays the master when he came out: \"Go, Jack, and look for the heifers,\nand bring them home.\"\n\n\"And where shall I look for 'em?\"\n\n\"Go and search for them as if they were your own.\" The heifers were\nall in the paddock before sunset.\n\nNext morning says the master: \"Jack, the path across the bog to the\npasture is very bad; the sheep does be sinking in it every step; go\nand make the sheep's feet a good path.\" About an hour after he came\nto the edge of the bog, and what did he find Jack at but sharpening a\ncarving knife, and the sheep standing or grazing around.\n\n\"Is this the way you are mending the path, Jack?\" said he.\n\n\"Everything must have a beginning, master,\" said Jack, \"and a thing\nwell begun is half done. I am sharpening the knife, and I'll have the\nfeet off every sheep in the flock while you'd be blessing yourself.\"\n\n\"Feet off my sheep, you anointed rogue! and what would you be taking\ntheir feet off for?\"\n\n\"An', sure, to mend the path as you told me. Says you, 'Jack, make a\npath with the foot of the sheep.'\"\n\n\"Oh, you fool, I meant make good the path for the sheep's feet.\"\n\n\"It's a pity you didn't say so, master. Hand me out one pound thirteen\nand fourpence if you don't like me to finish my job.\"\n\n\"Divil do you good with your one pound thirteen and four-pence!\"\n\n\"It's better pray than curse, master. Maybe you're sorry for your\nbargain?\"\n\n\"And to be sure I am--not yet, anyway.\"\n\nThe next night the master was going to a wedding; and says he to Jack,\nbefore he set out: \"I'll leave at midnight, and I wish you to come\nand be with me home, for fear I might be overtaken with the drink. If\nyou're there before, you may throw a sheep's eye at me, and I'll be\nsure to see that they'll give you something for yourself.\"\n\nAbout eleven o'clock, while the master was in great spirits, he felt\nsomething clammy hit him on the cheek. It fell beside his tumbler,\nand when he looked at it, what was it but the eye of a sheep. Well,\nhe couldn't imagine who threw it at him, or why it was thrown at him.\nAfter a little he got a blow on the other cheek, and still it was by\nanother sheep's eye. Well, he was much vexed, but he thought better\nto say nothing. In two minutes more, when he was opening his mouth to\ntake a sup, another sheep's eye was slapped into it. He sputtered it\nout, and cried, \"Man o' the house, isn't it a great shame for you to\nhave any one in the room that would do such a nasty thing?\"\n\n\"Master,\" says Jack, \"don't blame the honest man. Sure it's only\nmyself that was throwin' them sheep's eyes at you, to remind you I was\nhere, and that I wanted to drink the bride and bridegroom's health.\nYou know yourself bade me.\"\n\n\"I know that you are a great rascal; and where did you get the eyes?\"\n\n\"An' where would I get 'em but in the heads of your own sheep? Would\nyou have me meddle with the bastes of any neighbor, who might put me\nin the Stone Jug for it?\"\n\n\"Sorrow on me that ever I had the bad luck to meet with you.\"\n\n\"You're all witness,\" said Jack, \"that my master says he is sorry for\nhaving met with me. My time is up. Master, hand me over double wages,\nand come into the next room, and lay yourself out like a man that has\nsome decency in him, till I take a strip of skin an inch broad from\nyour shoulder to your hip.\"\n\nEvery one shouted out against that; but, says Jack, \"You didn't hinder\nhim when he took the same strips from the backs of my two brothers,\nand sent them home in that state, and penniless, to their poor\nmother.\"\n\nWhen the company heard the rights of the business, they were only too\neager to see the job done. The master bawled and roared, but there was\nno help at hand. He was stripped to his hips, and laid on the floor\nin the next room, and Jack had the carving-knife in his hand ready to\nbegin.\n\n\"Now you cruel old villain,\" said he, giving the knife a couple of\nscrapes along the floor: \"I'll make you an offer. Give me, along with\nmy double wages, two hundred guineas to support my poor brothers, and\nI'll do without the strip.\"\n\n\"No!\" said he, \"I'd let you skin me from head to foot first.\"\n\n\"Here goes, then,\" said Jack with a grin; but the first little scar he\ngave, Churl roared out, \"Stop your hand; I'll give the money.\"\n\n\"Now, neighbors,\" said Jack, \"you mustn't think worse of me than I\ndeserve. I wouldn't have the heart to take an eye out of a rat itself;\nI got half a dozen of them from the butcher, and only used three of\nthem.\"\n\nSo all came again into the other room, and Jack was made to sit down,\nand everybody drank his health, and he drank everybody's health at\none offer. And six stout fellows saw himself and the master home, and\nwaited in the parlor while he went up and brought down the two hundred\nguineas, and double wages for Jack himself. When he got home, he\nbrought the summer along with him to the poor mother and the disabled\nbrothers; and he was no more Jack the Fool in the people's mouths, but\n\"Skin-Churl Jack.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nHUDDEN AND DUDDEN AND DONALD O'NEARY\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nThere was once upon a time two farmers, and their names were Hudden\nand Dudden. They had poultry in their yards, sheep on the uplands, and\nscores of cattle in the meadow land alongside the river. But for all\nthat they weren't happy, for just between their two farms there lived\na poor man by the name of Donald O'Neary. He had a hovel over his\nhead and a strip of grass that was barely enough to keep his one cow,\nDaisy, from starving, and, though she did her best, it was but seldom\nthat Donald got a drink of milk or a roll of butter from Daisy. You\nwould think there was little here to make Hudden and Dudden jealous,\nbut so it is, the more one has the more one wants, and Donald's\nneighbors lay awake of nights scheming how they might get hold of his\nlittle strip of grass land.\n\nOne day Hudden met Dudden, and they were soon grumbling as usual,\nand all to the tune of, \"If only we could get that vagabond, Donald\nO'Neary, out of the country.\"\n\n\"Let's kill Daisy,\" said Hudden at last; \"if that doesn't make him\nclear out, nothing will.\"\n\nNo sooner said than agreed; and it wasn't dark before Hudden and\nDudden crept up to the little shed where lay poor Daisy, trying her\nbest to chew the cud, though she hadn't had as much grass in the day\nas would cover your hand. And when Donald came to see if Daisy was all\nsnug for the night, the poor beast had only time to lick his hand once\nbefore she died.\n\nWell, Donald was a shrewd fellow, and, downhearted though he was,\nbegan to think if he could get any good out of Daisy's death. He\nthought and he thought, and the next day you might have seen him\ntrudging off early to the fair, Daisy's hide over his shoulder, every\npenny he had jingling in his pockets. Just before he got to the fair,\nhe made several slits in the hide, put a penny in each slit, walked\ninto the best inn of the town as bold as if it belonged to him, and,\nhanging the hide up to a nail in the wall, sat down.\n\n\"Some of your best whisky,\" says he to the landlord. But the landlord\ndidn't like his looks. \"Is it fearing I won't pay you, you are?\" says\nDonald; \"why, I have a hide here that gives me all the money I want.\"\nAnd with that he hit it a whack with his stick, and out hopped a\npenny. The landlord opened his eyes, as you may fancy.\n\n\"What'll you take for that hide?\"\n\n\"It's not for sale, my good man.\"\n\n\"Will you take a gold piece?\"\n\n\"It's not for sale, I tell you. Hasn't it kept me and mine for years?\"\nand with that Donald hit the hide another whack, and out jumped a\nsecond penny.\n\nWell, the long and the short of it was that Donald let the hide go,\nand, that very evening, who but he should walk up to Hudden's door?\n\n\"Good evening, Hudden. Will you lend me your best pair of scales?\"\n\nHudden stared and Hudden scratched his head, but he lent the scales.\n\nWhen Donald was safe at home, he pulled out his pocketful of bright\ngold and began to weigh each piece in the scales. But Hudden had put a\nlump of butter at the bottom, and so the last piece of gold stuck fast\nto the scales when he took them back to Hudden.\n\nIf Hudden had stared before, he stared ten times more now, and no\nsooner was Donald's back turned, than he was off as hard as he could\npelt to Dudden's.\n\n\"Good-evening, Dudden. That vagabond, bad luck to him----\"\n\n\"You mean Donald O'Neary?\"\n\n\"And who else should I mean? He's back here weighing out sackfuls of\ngold.\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"Here are my scales that he borrowed, and here's a gold piece still\nsticking to them.\"\n\nOff they went together, and they came to Donald's door. Donald had\nfinished making the last pile of ten gold pieces. And he couldn't\nfinish, because a piece had stuck to the scales.\n\nIn they walked without an \"If you please\" or \"By your leave.\"\n\n\"Well, _I_ never!\" that was all _they_ could say.\n\n\"Good evening, Hudden; good evening, Dudden. Ah! you thought you had\nplayed me a fine trick, but you never did me a better turn in all your\nlives. When I found poor Daisy dead, I thought to myself: 'Well, her\nhide may fetch something'; and it did. Hides are worth their weight in\ngold in the market just now.\"\n\nHudden nudged Dudden, and Dudden winked at Hudden.\n\n\"Good evening, Donald O'Neary.\"\n\n\"Good evening, kind friends.\"\n\nThe next day there wasn't a cow or a calf that belonged to Hudden or\nDudden but her hide was going to the fair in Hudden's biggest cart,\ndrawn by Dudden's strongest pair of horses.\n\nWhen they came to the fair, each one took a hide over his arm, and\nthere they were walking through the fair, bawling out at the top of\ntheir voices, \"Hides to sell! hides to sell.'\"\n\nOut came the tanner:\n\n\"How much for your hides, my good men?\"\n\n\"Their weight in gold.\"\n\n\"It's early in the day to come out of the tavern.\" That was all the\ntanner said, and back he went to his yard.\n\n\"Hides to sell! Fine fresh hides to sell!\"\n\nOut came the cobbler:\n\n\"How much for your hides, my men?\"\n\n\"Their weight in gold.\"\n\n\"Is it making game of me you are? Take that for your pains,\" and the\ncobbler dealt Hudden a blow that made him stagger.\n\nUp the people came running from one end of the fair to the other.\n\"What's the matter? What's the matter?\" cried they.\n\n\"Here are a couple of vagabonds selling hides at their weight in\ngold,\" said the cobbler.\n\n\"Hold 'em fast; hold 'em fast!\" bawled the innkeeper, who was the\nlast to come up, he was so fat. \"I'll wager it's one of the rogues who\ntricked me out of thirty gold pieces yesterday for a wretched hide.\"\n\nIt was more kicks than halfpence that Hudden and Dudden got before\nthey were well on their way home again, and they didn't run the slower\nbecause all the dogs of the town were at their heels.\n\nWell, as you may fancy, if they loved Donald little before, they loved\nhim less now.\n\n\"What's the matter, friends?\" said he, as he saw them tearing along,\ntheir hats knocked in, and their coats torn off, and their faces black\nand blue. \"Is it fighting you've been? or mayhap you met the police,\nill luck to them?\"\n\n\"We'll police you, you vagabond. It's mighty smart you thought\nyourself, deluding us with your lying tales.\"\n\n\"Who deluded you? Didn't you see the gold with your own two eyes?\"\n\nBut it was no use talking. Pay for it he must and should. There was a\nmeal-sack handy, and into it Hudden and Dudden popped Donald O'Neary,\ntied him up tight, ran a pole through the knot, and off they started\nfor the Brown Lake of the Bog, each with a pole-end on his shoulder,\nand Donald O'Neary between.\n\nBut the Brown Lake was far, the road was dusty, Hudden and Dudden\nwere sore and weary, and parched with thirst. There was an inn by the\nroadside.\n\n\"Let's go in,\" said Hudden; \"I'm dead beat. It's heavy he is for the\nlittle he had to eat.\"\n\nIf Hudden was willing, so was Dudden. As for Donald, you may be sure\nhis leave wasn't asked, but he was dumped down at the inn door for all\nthe world as if he had been a sack of potatoes.\n\n\"Sit still, you vagabond,\" said Dudden; \"if we don't mind waiting, you\nneedn't.\"\n\nDonald held his peace, but after a while he heard the glasses clink,\nand Hudden singing away at the top of his voice.\n\n\"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!\" said Donald. But\nnobody heeded what he said.\n\n\"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!\" said Donald; and\nthis time he said it louder; but nobody heeded what he said.\n\n\"I won't have her, I tell you; I won't have her!\" said Donald; and\nthis time he said it as loud as he could.\n\n\"And who won't you have, may I be so bold as to ask?\" said a farmer,\nwho had just come up with a drove of cattle, and was turning in for a\nglass.\n\n\"It's the King's daughter. They are bothering the life out of me to\nmarry her.\"\n\n\"You're the lucky fellow. I'd give something to be in your shoes.\"\n\n\"Do you see that, now! Wouldn't it be a fine thing for a farmer to be\nmarrying a Princess, all dressed in gold and jewels?\"\n\n\"Jewels, you say? Ah, now, couldn't you take me with you?\"\n\n\"Well, you're an honest fellow, and as I don't care for the King's\ndaughter, though she's as beautiful as the day, and is covered with\njewels from top to toe, you shall have her. Just undo the cord and let\nme out; they tied me up tight, as they knew I'd run away from her.\"\n\nOut crawled Donald; in crept the farmer.\n\n\"Now lie still, and don't mind the shaking; it's only rumbling\nover the palace steps you'll be. And maybe they'll abuse you for a\nvagabond, who won't have the King's daughter; but you needn't mind\nthat. Ah, it's a deal I'm giving up for you, sure as it is that I\ndon't care for the Princess.\"\n\n\"Take my cattle in exchange,\" said the farmer; and you may guess it\nwasn't long before Donald was at their tails, driving them homeward.\n\nOut came Hudden and Dudden, and the one took one end of the pole, and\nthe other the other.\n\n\"I'm thinking he's heavier,\" said Hudden.\n\n\"Ah, never mind,\" said Dudden; \"it's only a step now to the Brown\nLake.\"\n\n\"I'll have her now! I'll have her now!\" bawled the farmer from inside\nthe sack.\n\n\"By my faith and you shall, though,\" said Hudden, and he laid his\nstick across the sack.\n\n\"I'll have her! I'll have her!\" bawled the farmer, louder than ever.\n\n\"Well, here you are,\" said Dudden, for they were now come to the Brown\nLake, and, unslinging the sack, they pitched it plump into the lake.\n\n\"You'll not be playing your tricks on us any longer,\" said Hudden.\n\n\"True for you,\" said Dudden. \"Ah, Donald, my boy, it was an ill day\nwhen you borrowed my scales!\"\n\nOff they went, with a light step and an easy heart, but when they were\nnear home, whom should they see but Donald O'Neary, and all around him\nthe cows were grazing, and the calves were kicking up their heels and\nbutting their heads together.\n\n\"Is it you, Donald?\" said Dudden. \"Faith, you've been quicker than we\nhave.\"\n\n\"True for you, Dudden, and let me thank you kindly; the turn was good,\nif the will was ill. You'll have heard, like me, that the Brown Lake\nleads to the Land of Promise. I always put it down as lies, but it is\njust as true as my word. Look at the cattle.\"\n\nHudden stared, and Dudden gaped; but they couldn't get over the\ncattle; fine, fat cattle they were, too.\n\n\"It's only the worst I could bring up with me,\" said Donald O'Neary;\n\"the others were so fat, there was no driving them. Faith, too, it's\nlittle wonder they didn't care to leave, with grass as far as you\ncould see, and as sweet and juicy as fresh butter.\"\n\n\"Ah now, Donald, we haven't always been friends,\" said Dudden, \"but,\nas I was just saying, you were ever a decent lad, and you'll show us\nthe way, won't you?\"\n\n\"I don't see that I'm called upon to do that; there is a power more\ncattle down there. Why shouldn't I have them all to myself?\"\n\n\"Faith, they may well say, the richer you get, the harder the heart.\nYou always were a neighborly lad, Donald. You wouldn't wish to keep\nthe luck all to yourself?\"\n\n\"True for you, Hudden, though it's a bad example you set me. But I'll\nnot be thinking of old times. There is plenty for all there, so come\nalong with me.\"\n\nOff they trudged, with a light heart and an eager step. When they came\nto the Brown Lake the sky was full of little white clouds, and, if the\nsky was full, the lake was as full.\n\n\"Ah, now, look! there they are!\" cried Donald as he pointed to the\nclouds in the lake.\n\n\"Where? where?\" cried Hudden, and \"Don't be greedy!\" cried Dudden, as\nhe jumped his hardest to be up first with the fat cattle. But if he\njumped first, Hudden wasn't long behind.\n\nThey never came back. Maybe they got too fat, like the cattle. As for\nDonald O'Neary, he had cattle and sheep all his days to his heart's\ncontent.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCONNLA OF THE GOLDEN HAIR AND THE FAIRY MAIDEN\n\nADAPTED BY PATRICK WESTON JOYCE\n\n\nConnla of the Golden Hair was the son of Conn the Hundred-fighter. One\nday as he stood with his father on the royal Hill of Usna, he saw a\nlady a little way off, very beautiful, and dressed in strange attire.\nShe approached the spot where he stood; and when she was near, he\nspoke to her, and asked who she was, and from what place she had come.\n\nThe lady replied: \"I have come from the Land of the Living--a land\nwhere there is neither death nor old age, nor any breach of law.\nThe inhabitants of earth call us Aes-shee, for we have our dwellings\nwithin large, pleasant, green hills. We pass our time very pleasantly\nin feasting and harmless amusements, never growing old; and we have no\nquarrels or contentions.\"\n\nThe King and his company marveled very much; for though they heard\nthis conversation, no one saw the lady except Connla alone.\n\n\"Who is this thou art talking to, my son?\" said the King.\n\nAnd anon she answered for the youth: \"Connla is speaking with a\nlovely, noble-born young lady, who will never die, and who will never\ngrow old. I love Connla of the Golden Hair, and I have come to bring\nhim with me to Moy-mell, the plain of never-ending pleasure. On the\nday that he comes with me he shall be made King, and he shall reign\nfor ever in Fairyland, without weeping and without sorrow. Come with\nme, O gentle Connla of the ruddy cheek, the fair, freckled neck, and\nthe golden hair! Come with me, beloved Connla, and thou shalt retain\nthe comeliness and dignity of thy form, free from the wrinkles of old\nage, till the awful day of judgment.\"\n\n \"Thy flowing golden hair, thy comely face,\n Thy all majestic form of peerless grace,\n That show thee sprung from Conn's exalted race.\"\n\nKing Conn the Hundred-fighter being much troubled, called then on\nhis druid Coran, to put forth his power against the witchery of the\nbanshee: \"O Coran of the mystic arts and of the mighty incantations,\nhere is a contest such as I have never been engaged in since I was\nmade King at Tara--a contest with an invisible lady, who is beguiling\nmy son to Fairyland by her baleful charms. Her cunning is beyond my\nskill, and I am not able to withstand her power; and if thou, Coran,\nhelp not, my son will be taken away from me by the wiles and witchery\nof a woman from the fairy hills.\"\n\nCoran the druid then came forward, and began to chant against the\nvoice of the lady. And his power was greater than hers for that time,\nso that she was forced to retire.\n\nAs she was going away she threw an apple to Connla, who straightway\nlost sight of her; and the King and his people no longer heard her\nvoice.\n\nThe King and the Prince returned with their company to the palace; and\nConnla remained for a whole month without tasting food or drink except\nthe apple. And though he ate of it each day, it was never lessened,\nbut was as whole and perfect in the end as at the beginning. Moreover,\nwhen they offered him aught else to eat or drink he refused it; for\nwhile he had his apple he did not deem any other food worthy to be\ntasted. And he began to be very moody and sorrowful, thinking of the\nlovely fairy maiden.\n\nAt the end of the month, as Connla stood by his father's side among\nthe nobles, on the Plain of Arcomin, he saw the lady approaching him\nfrom the west. And when she had come near, she addressed him in\nthis manner: \"A glorious seat, indeed, has Connla among wretched,\nshort-lived mortals, awaiting the dreadful stroke of death! But now,\nthe ever-youthful people of Moy-mell, who never feel age, and who fear\nnot death, seeing thee day by day among thy friends, in the assemblies\nof thy fatherland, love thee with a strange love, and they will make\nthee King over them if thou wilt come with me.\"\n\nWhen the King heard the words of the lady, he commanded his people to\ncall the druid again to him, saying, \"Bring my druid Coran to me;\nfor I see that the fairy lady has this day regained the power of her\nvoice.\"\n\nAt this the lady said: \"Valiant Conn, fighter of a hundred, the faith\nof the druids has come to little honor among the upright, mighty,\nnumberless people of this land. When the righteous law shall be\nrestored, it will seal up the lips of the false black demon; and his\ndruids shall no longer have power to work their guileful spells.\"\n\nNow the King observed, and marveled greatly, that whenever the lady\nwas present his son never spoke one word to any one, even though they\naddressed him many times. And when the lady had ceased to speak, the\nKing said: \"Connla, my son, has thy mind been moved by the words of\nthe lady?\"\n\nConnla spake then, and replied, \"Father, I am very unhappy; for though\nI love my people beyond all, I am filled with sadness on account of\nthis lady!\"\n\nWhen Connla had said this, the maiden again addressed him, and chanted\nthese words in a very sweet voice:\n\n \"A land of youth, a land of rest,\n A land from sorrow free;\n It lies far off in the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea.\n A swift canoe of crystal bright,\n That never met mortal view--\n We shall reach the land ere fall of night,\n In that strong and swift canoe;\n We shall reach the strand\n Of that sunny land,\n From druids and demons free;\n The land of rest\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n \"A pleasant land of winding vales, bright streams, and verdurous plains,\n Where summer all the live-long year in changeless splendor reigns;\n A peaceful land of calm delight, of everlasting bloom;\n Old age and death we never know, no sickness, care, or gloom;\n\n The land of youth,\n Of love and truth,\n From pain and sorrow free,\n The land of rest,\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n \"There are strange delights for mortal men in that island of the west;\n The sun comes down each evening in its lovely vales to rest;\n\n And though far and dim\n On the ocean's rim\n It seems to mortal view,\n We shall reach its halls\n Ere the evening falls,\n In my strong and swift canoe;\n And evermore\n That verdant shore\n Our happy home shall be;\n The land of rest,\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n \"It will guard thee, gentle Connla of the flowing golden hair,\n It will guard thee from the druids, from the demons of the air,\n My crystal boat will guard thee, till we reach that western shore,\n When thou and I in joy and love shall live for evermore:\n\n From the druid's incantation,\n From his black and deadly snare,\n From the withering imprecation\n Of the demon of the air,\n\n \"It will guard thee, gentle Connla of the flowing golden hair;\n My crystal boat shall guard thee, till we reach that silver strand\n Where thou shalt reign in endless joy, the King of the Fairyland!\"\n\nWhen the maiden had ended her chant, Connla suddenly walked away\nfrom his father's side, and sprang into the curragh, the gleaming,\nstraight-gliding, strong, crystal canoe. The King and his people saw\nthem afar off, and dimly moving away over the bright sea towards the\nsunset. They gazed sadly after them, till they lost sight of the canoe\nover the utmost verge; and no one can tell whither they went, for\nConnla was never again seen in his native land.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nITALIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nPINOCCHIO'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND[1]\n\nBY CARLO LORENZINI\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nMASTER CHERRY FINDS A QUEER PIECE OF WOOD\n\nTHERE was once upon a time ...\n\n\"A king!\" my little readers will instantly exclaim.\n\nNo, children, you are wrong. There was once upon a time a piece of\nwood.\n\nThis wood was not valuable; it was only a common log like those that\nare burnt in winter in the stoves and fireplaces to make a cheerful\nblaze and warm the rooms.\n\nI cannot say how it came about, but the fact is, that one fine day\nthis piece of wood was lying in the shop of an old carpenter of the\nname of Master Antonio. He was, however, called by everybody Master\nCherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and\npolished as a ripe cherry.\n\nNo sooner had Master Cherry set his eyes on the piece of wood than\nhis face beamed with delight; and, rubbing his hands together with\nsatisfaction, he said softly to himself:\n\n\"This wood has come at the right moment; it will just do to make the\nleg of a little table.\"\n\nHaving said this he immediately took a sharp axe with which to remove\nthe bark and the rough surface. Just, however, as he was going to give\nthe first stroke he remained with his arm suspended in the air, for\nhe heard a very small voice saying imploringly: \"Do not strike me so\nhard!\"\n\nPicture to yourselves the astonishment of good old Master Cherry!\n\nHe turned his terrified eyes all around the room to try and discover\nwhere the little voice could possibly have come from, but he saw\nnobody! He looked under the bench--nobody; he looked into a cupboard\nthat was always shut--nobody; he looked into a basket of shavings and\nsawdust--nobody; he even opened the door of the shop and gave a glance\ninto the street--and still nobody. Who, then, could it be?\n\n\"I see how it is;\" he said, laughing and scratching his wig;\n\"evidently that little voice was all my imagination. Let us set to\nwork again.\"\n\nAnd taking up the axe he struck a tremendous blow on the piece of\nwood.\n\n\"Oh! oh! you have hurt me!\" cried the same little voice dolefully.\n\nThis time Master Cherry was petrified. His eyes started out of his\nhead with fright, his mouth remained open, and his tongue hung out\nalmost to the end of his chin like a mask on a fountain. As soon as he\nhad recovered the use of his speech, he began to say, stuttering and\ntrembling with fear:\n\n\"But where on earth can that little voice have come from that said\n'Oh! oh!?'... Here there is certainly not a living soul. Is it\npossible that this piece of wood can have learnt to cry and to lament\nlike a child? I cannot believe it. This piece of wood here it is; a\nlog for fuel like all others, and thrown on the fire it would about\nsuffice to boil a saucepan of beans.... How then? Can anyone be hidden\ninside it? If anyone is hidden inside, so much the worse for him. I\nwill settle him at once.\"\n\nSo saying he seized the poor piece of wood and commenced beating it\nwithout mercy against the walls of the room.\n\nThen he stopped to listen if he could hear any little voice\nlamenting. He waited two minutes--nothing; five minutes-nothing; ten\nminutes--still nothing!\n\n\"I see how it is,\" he then said, forcing himself to laugh and pushing\nup his wig; \"evidently, the little voice that said 'Oh! oh!' was all\nmy imagination! Let us to work again.\"\n\nBut all the same he was in a great fright; he tried to sing to give\nhimself a little courage.\n\nPutting the axe aside he took his plane to plane and polish the bit\nof wood; but whilst he was running it up and down he heard the same\nlittle voice say, laughing:\n\n\"Have done! you are tickling me all over!\"\n\nThis time poor Master Cherry fell down as if he had been struck by\nlightning. When he at last opened his eyes he found himself seated on\nthe floor.\n\nHis face was quite changed; even the end of his nose, instead of being\ncrimson, as it was nearly always, had become blue from fright.\n\n\nII\n\nGEPPETTO PLANS A WONDERFUL PUPPET\n\n\nAt that moment some one knocked at the door.\n\n\"Come in,\" said the carpenter, without having the strength to rise to\nhis feet.\n\nA lively little old man immediately walked into the shop. His name was\nGeppetto, but when the boys in the neighborhood wished to put him in\na passion they called him by the nickname of Polendina, because his\nyellow wig greatly resembled a pudding made of Indian corn.\n\nGeppetto was very fiery. Woe to him who called him Polendina! He\nbecame furious, and there was no holding him.\n\n\"Good day, Master Antonio,\" said Geppetto; \"what are you doing there\non the floor?\"\n\n\"I am teaching the alphabet to the ants.\"\n\n\"Much good may that do you.\"\n\n\"What has brought you to me, neighbor Geppetto?\"\n\n\"My legs. But to say the truth, Master Antonio, I am come to ask a\nfavor of you.\"\n\n\"Here I am ready to serve you,\" replied the carpenter getting on his\nknees.\n\n\"This morning an idea came into my head.\"\n\n\"Let us hear it.\"\n\n\"I thought I would make a beautiful wooden puppet that should know how\nto dance, to fence, and to leap like an acrobat. With this puppet I\nwould travel about the world to earn a piece of bread and a glass of\nwine. What do you think of it?\"\n\n\"Bravo, Polendina!\" exclaimed the same little voice, and it was\nimpossible to say where it came from.\n\nHearing himself called Polendina, Geppetto became as red as a\nturkey-cock from rage, and turning to the carpenter he said in a fury:\n\n\"Why do you insult me?\"\n\n\"Who insults you?\"\n\n\"You called me Polendina!\"\n\n\"It was not I!\"\n\n\"Would you have it then, that it was I? It was you, I say!\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Yes!\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Yes!\"\n\nAnd becoming more and more angry, from words they came to blows, and\nflying at each other they bit, and fought, and scratched manfully.\n\nWhen the fight was over Master Antonio was in possession of Geppetto's\nyellow wig, and Geppetto discovered that the gray wig belonging to the\ncarpenter had remained between his teeth.\n\n\"Give me back my wig,\" screamed Master Antonio.\n\n\"And you return me mine, and let us make friends.\"\n\nThe two old men having each recovered his own wig shook hands, and\nswore that they would remain friends to the end of their lives.\n\n\"Well then, neighbor Geppetto,\" said the carpenter, to prove that\npeace was made, \"what is the favor that you wish of me?\"\n\n\"I want a little wood to make my puppet; will you give me some?\"\n\nMaster Antonio was delighted, and he immediately went to the bench and\nfetched the piece of wood that had caused him so much fear. Just as he\nwas going to give it to his friend the piece of wood gave a shake and\nwriggling violently out of his hands struck with all its force against\nthe dried-up shins of poor Geppetto.\n\n\"Ah! is that the courteous way in which you make your presents, Master\nAntonio? You have almost lamed me!\"\n\n\"I swear to you that it was not I!\"\n\n\"Then you would have it that it was I?\"\n\n\"The wood is entirely to blame!\"\n\n\"I know that it was the wood, but it was you that hit my legs with\nit!\"\n\n\"I did not hit you with it!\"\n\n\"Liar!\"\n\n\"Geppetto, don't insult me or I will call you Polendina!\"\n\n\"Ass!\"\n\n\"Polendina!\"\n\n\"Donkey!\"\n\n\"Polendina!\"\n\n\"Baboon!\"\n\n\"Polendina!\"\n\nOn hearing himself called Polendina for the third time Geppetto, blind\nwith rage, fell upon the carpenter and they fought desperately.\n\nWhen the battle was over, Master Antonio had two more scratches on his\nnose, and his adversary had two buttons less on his waistcoat. Their\naccounts being thus squared they shook hands, and swore to remain good\nfriends for the rest of their lives.\n\nGeppetto carried off his fine piece of wood, and thanking Master\nAntonio returned limping to his house.\n\n\nIII\n\nTHE PUPPET IS NAMED PINOCCHIO\n\n\nGeppetto lived in a small ground-floor room that was only lighted from\nthe staircase. The furniture could not have been simpler--a bad chair,\na poor bed, and a broken-down table. At the end of the room there was\na fireplace with a lighted fire; but the fire was painted, and by the\nfire was painted a saucepan that was boiling cheerfully, and sending\nout a cloud of smoke that looked exactly like real smoke.\n\nAs soon as he reached home Geppetto took his tools and set to work to\ncut out and model his puppet.\n\n\"What name shall I give him?\" he said to himself; \"I think I will call\nhim Pinocchio. It is a name that will bring him luck. I once knew a\nwhole family so called. There was Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia\nthe mother, and Pinocchi the children, and all of them did well. The\nrichest of them was a beggar.\"\n\nHaving found a name for his puppet he began to work in good earnest,\nand he first made his hair, then his forehead and then his eyes.\n\nThe eyes being finished, imagine his astonishment when he perceived\nthat they moved and looked fixedly at him.\n\nGeppetto seeing himself stared at by those two wooden eyes, took it\nalmost in bad part, and said in an angry voice:\n\n\"Wicked wooden eyes, why do you look at me?\"\n\nNo one answered.\n\nThen he proceeded to carve the nose; but no sooner had he made it\nthan it began to grow. And it grew, and grew, and grew until in a few\nminutes it had become an immense nose that seemed as if it would never\nend.\n\nPoor Geppetto tired himself out with cutting it off. But the more he\ncut and shortened it, the longer did that impertinent nose become!\n\nThe mouth was not even completed when it began to laugh and deride\nhim.\n\n\"Stop laughing!\" said Geppetto provoked; but he might as well have\nspoken to the wall.\n\n\"Stop laughing, I say!\" he roared in a threatening tone.\n\nThe mouth then ceased laughing, but put out its tongue as far as it\nwould go.\n\nGeppetto, not to spoil his handiwork, pretended not to see, and\ncontinued his labors. After the mouth he fashioned the chin, then the\nthroat, and then the shoulders, the stomach, the arms and the hands.\n\nThe hands were scarcely finished when Geppetto felt his wig snatched\nfrom his head. He turned round, and what did he see? He saw his yellow\nwig in the puppet's hand.\n\n\"Pinocchio!... Give me back my wig instantly!\"\n\nBut Pinocchio instead of returning it, put it on his own head, and was\nin consequence nearly smothered.\n\nGeppetto at this insolent and derisive behavior felt sadder and more\nmelancholy than he had ever been in his life before; and turning to\nPinocchio he said to him:\n\n\"You young rascal! You are not yet completed, and you are already\nbeginning to show want of respect to your father! That is bad, my boy,\nvery bad.\"\n\nAnd he dried a tear.\n\nThe legs and feet remained to be done.\n\nWhen Geppetto had finished the feet he received a kick on the point of\nthe nose.\n\n\"I deserve it!\" he said to himself; \"I should have thought of it\nsooner! Now it is too late!\"\n\nHe then took the puppet under the arms and placed him on the floor to\nteach him to walk.\n\nPinocchio's legs were stiff and he could not move, but Geppetto led\nhim by the hand and showed him how to put one foot before the other.\n\nWhen his legs became flexible Pinocchio began to walk by himself and\nto run about the room; until, having gone out of the house door, he\njumped into the street and escaped.\n\nPoor Geppetto rushed after him but was not able to overtake him, for\nthat rascal Pinocchio leapt in front of him like a hare, and knocking\nhis wooden feet together against the pavement made as much clatter as\ntwenty pairs of peasant's clogs.\n\n\"Stop him! stop him!\" shouted Geppetto; but the people in the street,\nseeing a wooden puppet running like a racehorse stood still in\nastonishment to look at it, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed,\nuntil it beats description....\n\n\nIV\n\nTHE FIRE-EATER FRIGHTENS PINOCCHIO\n\n\nWhen Pinocchio came into the little puppet theater, an incident\noccurred that almost produced a revolution.\n\nI must tell you that the curtain was drawn up, and the play had\nalready begun.\n\nOn the stage Harlequin and Punchinello were as usual quarreling with\neach other, and threatening every moment to come to blows.\n\nThe audience, all attention, laughed till they were ill as they\nlistened to the bickerings of these two puppets, who gesticulated\nand abused each other so naturally that they might have been two\nreasonable beings, and two persons of the world.\n\nAll at once Harlequin stopped short, and turning to the public he\npointed with his hand to some one far down in the pit, and exclaimed\nin a dramatic tone:\n\n\"Gods of the firmament! do I dream, or am I awake? But surely that is\nPinocchio!\"\n\n\"It is indeed Pinocchio!\" cried Punchinello.\n\n\"It is indeed himself!\" screamed Miss Rose, peeping from behind the\nscenes.\n\n\"It is Pinocchio! it is Pinocchio!\" shouted all the puppets in chorus,\nleaping from all sides on to the stage. \"It is Pinocchio! It is our\nbrother Pinocchio! Long live Pinocchio!\"\n\n\"Pinocchio, come up here to me,\" cried Harlequin, \"and throw yourself\ninto the arms of your wooden brothers!\"\n\nAt this affectionate invitation Pinocchio made a leap from the end of\nthe pit into the reserved seats; another leap landed him on the head\nof the leader of the orchestra, and then he sprang upon the stage.\n\nThe embraces, the hugs, the friendly pinches, and the demonstrations\nof warm brotherly affection that Pinocchio received from the excited\ncrowd of actors and actresses of the puppet dramatic company beat\ndescription.\n\nThe sight was doubtless a moving one, but the public in the pit,\nfinding that the play was stopped, became impatient, and began to\nshout \"We will have the play--go on with the play!\"\n\nIt was all breath thrown away. The puppets, instead of continuing the\nrecital, redoubled their noise and outcries, and putting Pinocchio on\ntheir shoulders they carried him in triumph before the footlights.\n\nAt that moment out came the showman. He was very big and so ugly that\nthe sight of him was enough to frighten anyone. His beard was as black\nas ink, and so long that it reached from his chin to the ground. I\nneed only say that he trod upon it when he walked. His mouth was as\nbig as an oven, and his eyes were like two lanterns of red glass with\nlights burning inside of them. He carried a whip made of snakes and\nfoxes' tails twisted together, which he cracked constantly.\n\nAt his unexpected appearance there was a profound silence: no one\ndared to breathe. A fly might have been heard in the stillness. The\npoor puppets of both sexes trembled like so many leaves.\n\n\"Why have you come to raise a disturbance in my theater?\" asked the\nshowman of Pinocchio in the gruff voice of a hob-goblin suffering from\na severe cold in the head.\n\n\"Believe me, honored sir, that it was not my fault!\"\n\n\"That is enough! To-night we will settle our accounts.\"\n\nAs soon as the play was over the showman went into the kitchen where\na fine sheep, preparing for his supper, was turning slowly on the spit\nin front of the fire. As there was not enough wood to finish roasting\nand browning it, he called Harlequin and Punchinello, and said to\nthem:\n\n\"Bring that puppet here; you will find him hanging on a nail. It seems\nto me that he is made of very dry wood, and I am sure that if he was\nthrown on the fire he would make a beautiful blaze for the roast.\"\n\nAt first Harlequin and Punchinello hesitated; but, appalled by a\nsevere glance from their master, they obeyed. In a short time they\nreturned to the kitchen carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling\nlike an eel taken out of water, and screaming desperately, \"Papa!\npapa! save me! I will not die, I will not die!\"\n\n\nV.\n\nFIRE-EATER SNEEZES AND PARDONS PINOCCHIO\n\n\nThe showman Fire-eater--for that was his name--looked, I must say, a\nterrible man, especially with his black beard that covered his chest\nand legs like an apron. On the whole, however, he had not a bad heart.\nIn proof of this, when he saw Pinocchio brought before him, struggling\nand screaming \"I will not die, I will not die!\" he was quite moved and\nfelt sorry for him. He tried to hold out, but after a little he could\nstand it no longer and he sneezed violently. When he heard the sneeze,\nHarlequin, who up to that moment had been in the deepest affliction,\nand bowed down like a weeping willow, became quite cheerful, and\nleaning towards Pinocchio he whispered to him softly:\n\n\"Good news, brother. The showman has sneezed, and that is a sign that\nhe pities you, and consequently you are saved.\"\n\nFor you must know that whilst most men when they feel compassion\nfor somebody either weep, or at least pretend to dry their eyes,\nFire-eater, on the contrary, had the habit of sneezing.\n\nAfter he had sneezed, the showman, still acting the ruffian, shouted\nto Pinocchio:\n\n\"Have done crying! Your lamentations have given me a pain in my\nstomach ... I feel a spasm, that almost.... Etci! etci!\" and he\nsneezed again twice.\n\n\"Bless you!\" said Pinocchio.\n\n\"Thank you! And your papa and your mamma, are they still alive?\" asked\nFire-eater.\n\n\"Papa, yes: my mamma I have never known.\"\n\n\"Who can say what a sorrow it would be to your poor old father if I\nwas to have you thrown amongst those burning coals! Poor old man! I\ncompassionate him!... Etci! etci! etci!\" and he sneezed three times.\n\n\"Bless you!\" said Pinocchio.\n\n\"Thank you! All the same, some compassion is due to me, for you see I\nhave no more wood with which to finish roasting my mutton, and to tell\nyou the truth, under the circumstances you would have been of great\nuse to me! However, I have had pity on you, so I must have patience.\nInstead of you I will burn under the spit one of the puppets belonging\nto my company. Ho there, gendarmes!\"\n\nAt this call two wooden gendarmes immediately appeared. They were very\nlong and very thin and had on cocked hats, and held unsheathed swords\nin their hands.\n\nThe showman said to them in a hoarse voice:\n\n\"Take Harlequin, bind him securely, and then throw him on the fire to\nburn. I am determined that my mutton shall be well roasted.\"\n\nOnly imagine that poor Harlequin! His terror was so great that his\nlegs bent under him, and he fell with his face on the ground.\n\nAt this agonizing sight Pinocchio, weeping bitterly, threw himself at\nthe showman's feet, and bathing his long beard with his tears he began\nto say in a supplicating voice:\n\n\"Have pity, Sir Fire-eater!\"\n\n\"Here there are no sirs,\" the showman answered severely.\n\n\"Have pity, Sir Knight!\"\n\n\"Here there are no knights!\"\n\n\"Have pity, Commander!\"\n\n\"Here there are no commanders!\"\n\n\"Have pity, Excellence!\"\n\nUpon hearing himself called Excellence the showman began to smile,\nand became at once kinder and more tractable. Turning to Pinocchio he\nasked:\n\n\"Well, what do you want from me?\"\n\n\"I implore you to pardon poor Harlequin.\"\n\n\"For him there can be no pardon. As I have spared you he must be\nput on the fire, for I am determined that my mutton shall be well\nroasted.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" cried Pinocchio proudly, rising and throwing away his\ncap of bread crumb \"in that case I know my duty. Come on, gendarmes!\nBind me and throw me amongst the flames. No, it is not just that poor\nHarlequin, my true friend, should die for me!\"\n\nThese words, pronounced in a loud heroic voice, made all the puppets\nwho were present cry. Even the gendarmes, although they were made of\nwood, wept like two newly-born lambs.\n\nFire-eater at first remained as hard and unmoved as ice, but little by\nlittle he began to melt and to sneeze. And having sneezed four or five\ntimes, he opened his arms affectionately, and said to Pinocchio:\n\n\"You are a good brave boy! Come here and give me a kiss.\"\n\nPinocchio ran at once, and climbing like a squirrel up the showman's\nbeard he deposited a hearty kiss on the point of his nose.\n\n\"Then the pardon is granted?\" asked poor Harlequin in a faint voice\nthat was scarcely audible.\n\n\"The pardon is granted!\" answered Fire-eater. He then added, sighing\nand shaking his head:\n\n\"I must have patience! To-night I shall have to resign myself to eat\nthe mutton half raw; but another time, woe to him who chances!\"\n\nAt the news of the pardon all the puppets ran to the stage, and having\nlighted the lamps and chandeliers as if for a full-dress performance,\nthey began to leap and to dance merrily. At dawn they were still\ndancing.\n\n\nVI\n\nTHE SHOWMAN BECOMES GENEROUS\n\n\nThe following day Fire-eater called Pinocchio to one side and asked\nhim:\n\n\"What is your father's name?\"\n\n\"Geppetto.\"\n\n\"And what trade does he follow?\"\n\n\"He is a beggar.\"\n\n\"Does he gain much?\"\n\n\"Gain much? Why, he has never a penny in his pocket. Only think, to\nbuy a spelling-book for me to go to school, he was obliged to sell the\nonly coat he had to wear--a coat that between patches and darns was\nnot fit to be seen.\"\n\n\"Poor devil! I feel almost sorry for him! Here are five gold pieces.\nGo at once and take them to him with my compliments.\"\n\nYou can easily understand that Pinocchio thanked the showman a\nthousand times. He embraced all the puppets of the company one by\none, even to the gendarmes, and beside himself with delight set out to\nreturn home.\n\nBut he had not gone far when he met on the road a Fox lame in one\nfoot, and a Cat blind in both eyes, who were going along helping each\nother like good companions in misfortune. The Fox who was lame walked\nleaning on the Cat, and the Cat who was blind was guided by the Fox.\n\n\"Good day, Pinocchio,\" said the Fox, accosting him politely.\n\n\"How do you come to know my name?\" asked the puppet.\n\n\"I know your father well.\"\n\n\"Where did you see him?\"\n\n\"I saw him yesterday at the door of his house.\"\n\n\"And what was he doing?\"\n\n\"He was in his shirt sleeves and shivering with cold.\"\n\n\"Poor papa! But that is over; for the future he shall shiver no more.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because I am become a gentleman.\"\n\n\"A gentleman--you!\" said the Fox, and he began to laugh rudely and\nscornfully. The Cat also began to laugh, but to conceal it she combed\nher whiskers with her forepaws.\n\n\"There is little to laugh at,\" cried Pinocchio angrily. \"I am really\nsorry to make your mouths water, but if you know anything about it,\nyou can see that here are five gold pieces.\"\n\nAnd he pulled out the money that Fire-eater had made him a present of.\n\nAt the sympathetic ring of the money the Fox with an involuntary\nmovement stretched out the paw that had seemed crippled, and the cat\nopened wide two eyes that looked like two green lanterns. It is true\nthat she shut them again, and so quickly that Pinocchio observed\nnothing.\n\n\"And now,\" asked the Fox, \"what are you going to do with all that\nmoney?\"\n\n\"First of all,\" answered the Puppet, \"I intend to buy a new coat for\nmy papa, made of gold and silver, and with diamond buttons, and then I\nwill buy a spelling-book for myself.\"\n\n\"For yourself?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed, for I wish to go to school to study in earnest.\"\n\n\"Look at me!\" said the Fox. \"Through my foolish passion for study I\nhave lost a leg.\"\n\n\"Look at me!\" said the Cat. \"Through my foolish passion for study I\nhave lost the sight of both my eyes.\"\n\nAt that moment a white Blackbird, that was perched on the hedge by the\nroad, began his usual song, and said:\n\n\"Pinocchio, don't listen to the advice of bad companions; if you do\nyou will repent it!\"\n\nPoor Blackbird! If only he had not spoken! The Cat with a great leap\nsprang upon him and without even giving him time to say \"Oh!\" ate him\nin a mouthful, feathers and all.\n\nHaving eaten him and cleaned her mouth she shut her eyes again and\nfeigned blindness as before.\n\n\"Poor Blackbird!\" said Pinocchio to the Cat. \"Why did you treat him so\nbadly?\"\n\n\"I did it to give him a lesson. He will learn another time not to\nmeddle in other people's conversation.\"\n\nThey had gone almost half-way when the Fox, halting suddenly, said to\nthe puppet:\n\n\"Would you like to double your money?\"\n\n\"In what way?\"\n\n\"Would you like to make out of your five miserable gold pieces, a\nhundred, a thousand, two thousand?\"\n\n\"I should think so! But in what way?\"\n\n\"The way is easy enough. Instead of returning home you must go with\nus.\"\n\n\"And where do you wish to take me?\"\n\n\"To the Land of the Owls.\"\n\nPinocchio reflected a moment, and then he said resolutely:\n\n\"No, I will not go. I am already close to the house, and I will return\nhome to my papa who is waiting for me. Who can tell how often the poor\nold man must have sighed yesterday when I did not come back! I have\nbeen a bad son, indeed, and the Talking-cricket was right when he said\n'Disobedient boys never come to any good in the world.' I have\nfound it to my cost, for many misfortunes have happened to me. Even\nyesterday in Fire-eater's house I ran the risk.... Oh! it makes me\nshudder only to think of it.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the Fox, \"you are quite decided to go home? Go,\nthen, and so much the worse for you.\"\n\n\"So much the worse for you!\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"Think well of it, Pinocchio, for you are giving a kick to fortune.\"\n\n\"To fortune!\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"Between to-day and to-morrow your five gold pieces would have become\ntwo thousand.\"\n\n\"Two thousand!\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"But how is it possible that they could have become so many?\" asked\nPinocchio, remaining with his mouth open from astonishment.\n\n\"I will explain it to you at once,\" said the Fox. \"You must know that\nin the Land of the Owls there is a sacred field called by everybody\nthe Field of Miracles. In this field you must dig a little hole, and\nyou put into it, we will say one gold piece. Then you cover up the\nhole with a little earth; you water it with two pails of water from\nthe fountain, then sprinkle it with two pinches of salt, and when\nnight comes you can go quietly to bed. In the meanwhile, during the\nnight, the gold piece will grow and flower, and in the morning when\nyou return to the field, what do you find? You find a beautiful tree\nladen with as many gold pieces as an ear of corn has grains in the\nmonth of June.\"\n\n\"So that,\" said Pinocchio, more and more bewildered, \"supposing I\nburied my five gold pieces in that field, how many should I find there\nthe following morning?\"\n\n\"That is exceedingly easy calculation,\" replied the Fox, \"a\ncalculation that you can make on the ends of your fingers. Suppose\nthat every gold piece gives you an increase of five hundred; multiply\nfive hundred by five, and the following morning will find you with two\nthousand five hundred shining gold pieces in your pocket.\"\n\n\"Oh! how delightful!\" cried Pinocchio, dancing for joy, \"As soon as\never I have obtained those gold pieces, I will keep two thousand for\nmyself, and the other five hundred I will make a present of to you\ntwo.\"\n\n\"A present to us?\" cried the Fox with indignation, and appearing much\noffended. \"What are you dreaming of?\"\n\n\"What are you dreaming of?\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"We do not work,\" said the Fox, \"for dirty interest, we work solely to\nenrich others.\"\n\n\"Others!\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"What good people!\" thought Pinocchio to himself; and forgetting there\nand then his papa, the new coat, the spelling-book, and all his good\nresolutions, he said to the Fox and the Cat:\n\n\"Let us be off at once. I will go with you.\"\n\n\nVII\n\nTHE INN OF THE RED-CRAWFISH\n\n\nThey walked, and walked, and walked, until at last, towards evening,\nthey arrived dead tired at the Inn of The Red-Crawfish.\n\n\"Let us stop here, a little,\" said the Fox, \"that we may have\nsomething to eat and rest ourselves for an hour or two. We will start\nagain at midnight, so as to arrive at the Field of Miracles by dawn\nto-morrow morning.\"\n\nHaving gone into the inn they all three sat down to table, but none of\nthem had any appetite.\n\nThe Cat, who was suffering from indigestion and feeling seriously\nindisposed, could only eat thirty-five mullet with tomato sauce, and\nfour portions of tripe with Parmesan cheese; and because she thought\nthe tripe was not seasoned enough, she asked three times for the\nbutter and grated cheese!\n\nThe Fox would also willingly have picked a little, but as his doctor\nhad ordered him a strict diet, he was forced to content himself simply\nwith a hare dressed with a sweet and sour sauce, and garnished lightly\nwith fat chickens and early pullets. After the hare he sent for a made\ndish of partridges, rabbits, frogs, lizards, and other delicacies;\nhe could not touch anything else. He had such a disgust for food, he\nsaid, that he could put nothing to his lips.\n\nThe one who ate the least was Pinocchio. He asked for some walnuts\nand a hunch of bread, and left everything on his plate. The poor boy,\nwhose thoughts were continually fixed on the Field of Miracles, had\ngot in anticipation an indigestion of gold pieces.\n\nWhen they had supped the Fox said to the host:\n\n\"Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio, and the other for\nme and my companion. We will snatch a little sleep before we leave.\nRemember, however, that at midnight we wish to be called to continue\nour journey.\"\n\n\"Yes, gentlemen,\" answered the host, and he winked at the Fox and the\nCat as much as to say: \"I know what you are up to. We understand one\nanother!\"\n\nNo sooner had Pinocchio got into bed than he fell asleep at once and\nbegan to dream. And he dreamt that he was in the middle of a field,\nand the field was filled with shrubs covered with clusters of gold\npieces, and as they swung in the wind they went zin, zin, zin, almost\nas if they would say: \"Let who will come and take us.\" But when\nPinocchio was at the most interesting moment, that is, just as he\nwas stretching out his hand to pick handfuls of those beautiful gold\npieces and put them in his pockets, he was suddenly wakened by three\nviolent blows on the door of his room.\n\nIt was the host who had come to tell him that midnight had struck.\n\n\"Are my companions ready?\" asked the puppet.\n\n\"Ready! Why, they left two hours ago.\"\n\n\"Why were they in such a hurry?\"\n\n\"Because the Cat had received a message to say that her eldest kitten\nwas ill with chilblains on his feet, and was in danger of death.\"\n\n\"Did they pay for supper?\"\n\n\"What are you thinking of? They are too highly educated to dream of\noffering such an insult to a gentleman like you.\"\n\n\"What a pity! It is an insult that would have given me so much\npleasure!\" said Pinocchio, scratching his head. He then asked:\n\n\"And where did my good friends say they would wait for me?\"\n\n\"At the Field of Miracles, to-morrow morning at daybreak.\"\n\nPinocchio paid a gold piece for his supper and that of his companions\nand then he left.\n\nOutside the inn it was so pitch dark that he had almost to grope his\nway, for it was impossible to see a hand's breadth in front of him.\nIn the adjacent country not a leaf moved. Only some night-birds flying\nacross the road from one hedge to the other brushed Pinocchio's nose\nwith their wings as they passed, which caused him so much terror that\nspringing back, he shouted: \"Who goes there?\" and the echo in the\nsurrounding hills repeated in the distance: \"Who goes there? Who goes\nthere? Who goes there?\"...\n\n\nVIII\n\nTHE PUPPET FALLS AMONG ASSASSINS\n\n\nHe turned to look, and saw in the gloom two evil-looking black figures\ncompletely enveloped in charcoal sacks. They were running after him on\ntiptoe, and making great leaps like two phantoms.\n\n\"Here they are in reality!\" he said to himself, and not knowing where\nto hide his gold pieces he put them in his mouth precisely under his\ntongue.\n\nThen he tried to escape. But he had not gone a step when he felt\nhimself seized by the arm, and heard two sepulchral voices saying to\nhim:\n\n\"Your money or your life!\"\n\nPinocchio, not being able to answer in words, owing to the money in\nhis mouth, made a thousand low bows and a thousand pantomimes. He\ntried thus to make the two muffled figures, whose eyes were only\nvisible through the holes in their sacks, understand that he was\na poor puppet, and that he had not as much as a false penny in his\npocket.\n\n\"Come now! Less nonsense and out with the money!\" cried the two\nbrigands threateningly.\n\nAnd the puppet made a gesture with his hands to signify \"I have got\nnone.\"\n\n\"Deliver up your money or you are dead,\" said the tallest of the\nbrigands.\n\n\"Dead!\" repeated the other.\n\n\"And after we have killed you, we will also kill your father!\"\n\n\"Also your father!\"\n\n\"No, no, no, not my poor papa!\" cried Pinocchio in a despairing tone;\nand as he said it, the gold pieces clinked in his mouth.\n\n\"Ah! You rascal! Then you have hidden your money under your tongue!\nSpit it out at once!\"\n\nBut Pinocchio was obdurate.\n\nAnd one of them seized the puppet by the end of his nose, and the\nother took him by the chin, and began to pull them brutally, the one\nup, and the other down, to constrain him to open his mouth, but it was\nall to no purpose. Pinocchio's mouth seemed to be nailed and riveted\ntogether.\n\nThen the shortest assassin drew out an ugly knife and tried to force\nit between his lips like a lever or chisel. But Pinocchio as quick\nas lightning caught his hand with his teeth, and with one bite bit it\nclean off and spat it out. Imagine his astonishment when instead of a\nhand he perceived that he had spat a cat's paw on to the ground.\n\nEncouraged by his first victory he used his nails to such purpose that\nhe succeeded in liberating himself from his assailants, and jumping\nthe hedge by the roadside he began to fly across the country. The\nassassins ran after him like two dogs chasing a hare; and the one who\nhad lost the paw ran on one leg and no one ever knew how he managed\nit.\n\nAfter a race of some miles Pinocchio could do no more. Giving himself\nup for lost he climbed the stem of a very high pine-tree and seated\nhimself in the topmost branches. The assassins attempted to climb\nafter him, but when they had reached halfway up the stem they slid\ndown again, and arrived on the ground with the skin grazed from their\nhands and knees.\n\nBut they were not to be beaten by so little; collecting a quantity of\ndry wood they piled it beneath the pine and set fire to it. In less\ntime than it takes to tell the pine began to burn and flame like\na candle blown by the wind. Pinocchio, seeing that the flames were\nmounting higher every instant, and not wishing to end his life like\na roasted pigeon, made a stupendous leap from the top of the tree and\nstarted afresh across the fields and vineyards. The assassins followed\nhim, and kept behind him without once giving in.\n\nThe day began to break and they were still pursuing him. Suddenly\nPinocchio found his way barred by a wide, deep ditch full of dirty\nwater the color of coffee. What was he to do? \"One! two! three!\"\ncried the puppet, and making a rush he sprang to the other side.\nThe assassins also jumped, but not having measured the distance\nproperly--splash, splash!... they fell into the very middle of the\nditch. Pinocchio who heard the plunge and the splashing of water,\nshouted out, laughing and without stopping:\n\n\"A fine bath to you, gentlemen assassins.\"\n\nHe felt convinced that they were drowned, when, turning to look he\nperceived that, on the contrary, they were both running after him,\nstill enveloped in their sacks with the water dripping from them as if\nthey had been two hollow baskets....\n\n\nIX\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CAT\n\n\nPinocchio set out; and as soon as he was in the wood he began to run\nlike a kid. But when he had reached a certain spot, almost in front\nof the Big Oak, he stopped because he thought that he heard people\namongst the bushes. In fact, two persons came out on the road. Can you\nguess who they were?... His two traveling companions, the Fox and the\nCat, with whom he had supped at the Inn of the Red-Crawfish.\n\n\"Why here is our dear Pinocchio!\" cried the Fox, kissing and embracing\nhim. \"How come you to be here?\"\n\n\"How come you to be here?\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"It is a long story,\" answered the puppet, \"which I will tell you when\nI have time. But do you know that the other night, when you left me\nalone at the inn, I met with assassins on the road.\"\n\n\"Assassins!... Oh, poor Pinocchio! And what did they want?\"\n\n\"They wanted to rob me of my gold pieces.\"\n\n\"Villains!\" said the Fox.\n\n\"Infamous villains!\" repeated the Cat.\n\n\"But I ran away from them,\" continued the puppet, \"and they followed\nme, and at last they overtook me and hung me to a branch of that\noak-tree.\"\n\nAnd Pinocchio pointed to the Big Oak, which was two steps from them.\n\n\"Is it possible to hear of anything more dreadful?\" said the Fox. \"In\nwhat a world we are condemned to live! Where can respectable people\nlike us find a safe refuge?\"\n\nWhilst they were thus talking Pinocchio observed that the Cat was lame\nof her front right leg, for in fact she had lost her paw with all its\nclaws. He therefore asked her:\n\n\"What have you done with your paw!\"\n\nThe Cat tried to answer but became confused. Therefore the Fox said\nimmediately:\n\n\"My friend is too modest, and that is why she doesn't speak. I will\nanswer for her. I must tell you that an hour ago we met an old wolf on\nthe road, almost fainting from want of food, who asked alms of us. Not\nhaving so much as a fish-bone to give to him, what did my friend, who\nhas really the heart of a C\u00e6sar, do? She bit off one of her forepaws,\nand threw it to that poor beast that he might appease his hunger.\"\n\nAnd the Fox, in relating this, dried a tear.\n\nPinocchio was also touched, and approaching the Cat he whispered into\nher ear:\n\n\"If all cats resemble you, how fortunate the mice would be!\"\n\n\"And now, what are you doing here?\" asked the Fox of the puppet.\n\n\"I am waiting for my papa, whom I expect to arrive every moment.\"\n\n\"And your gold pieces?\"\n\n\"I have got them in my pocket, all but one that I spent at the Inn of\nthe Red-Crawfish.\"\n\n\"And to think that, instead of four pieces, by to-morrow they might\nbecome one or two thousand! Why do you not listen to my advice? why\nwill you not go and bury them in the Field of Miracles?\"\n\n\"To-day it is impossible, I will go another day.\"\n\n\"Another day it will be too late!\" said the Fox.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because the field has been bought by a gentleman, and after to-morrow\nno one will be allowed to bury money there.\"\n\n\"How far off is the Field of Miracles?\"\n\n\"Not two miles. Will you come with us? In half an hour you will be\nthere. You can bury your money at once, and in a few minutes you\nwill collect two thousand, and this evening you will return with your\npockets full. Will you come with us?\"\n\nPinocchio thought of the good Fairy, old Geppetto, and the warning of\nthe Talking-cricket, and he hesitated a little before answering. He\nended however, by doing as all boys do who have not a grain of sense\nand who have no heart--he ended by giving his head a little shake, and\nsaying to the Fox and Cat:\n\n\"Let us go: I will come with you.\"\n\nAnd they went.\n\nAfter having walked half the day they reached a town that was called\n\"Trap for Blockheads.\" As soon as Pinocchio entered this town, he saw\nthat the streets were crowded with dogs who had lost their coats and\nwho were yawning from hunger, shorn sheep trembling with cold, cocks\nwithout combs or crests who were begging for a grain of Indian corn,\nlarge butterflies who could no longer fly because they had sold their\nbeautiful colored wings, peacocks who had no tails and were ashamed to\nbe seen, and pheasants who went scratching about in a subdued fashion,\nmourning for their brilliant gold and silver feathers gone for ever.\n\nIn the midst of this crowd of beggars and shamefaced creatures,\nsome lordly carriage passed from time to time containing a Fox, or a\nthieving Magpie, or some other ravenous bird of prey.\n\n\"And where is the Field of Miracles?\" asked Pinocchio.\n\n\"It is here, not two steps from us.\"\n\nThey crossed the town, and having gone beyond the walls they came to a\nsolitary field which to look at resembled all other fields.\n\n\"We are arrived,\" said the Fox to the puppet. \"Now stoop down and dig\nwith your hands a little hole in the ground and put your gold pieces\ninto it.\"\n\nPinocchio obeyed. He dug a hole, put into it the four gold pieces that\nhe had left, and then filled up the hole with a little earth.\n\n\"Now, then,\" said the Fox, \"go to that canal close to us, fetch a can\nof water, and water the ground where you have sowed them.\"\n\nPinocchio went to the canal, and as he had no can he took off one of\nhis old shoes and filling it with water he watered the ground over the\nhole.\n\nHe then asked:\n\n\"Is there anything else to be done?\"\n\n\"Nothing else,\" answered the Fox. \"We can now go away. You can return\nin about twenty minutes, and you will find a shrub already pushing\nthrough the ground, with its branches quite loaded with money.\"\n\nThe poor puppet, beside himself with joy, thanked the Fox and the Cat\na thousand times, and promised them a beautiful present.\n\n\"We wish for no presents,\" answered the two rascals. \"It is enough for\nus to have taught you the way to enrich yourself without undergoing\nhard work, and we are as happy as folk out for a holiday.\"\n\nThus saying they took leave of Pinocchio, and wishing him a good\nharvest went about their business.\n\n\nX\n\nPINOCCHIO IS ROBBED\n\n\nThe puppet returned to the town and began to count the minutes one by\none; and when he thought it must be time he took the road leading to\nthe Field of Miracles.\n\nAnd as he walked along with hurried steps his heart beat fast, tic,\ntac, tic, tac, like a drawing-room clock when it is really going well.\nMeanwhile he was thinking to himself:\n\n\"And if instead of a thousand gold pieces, I was to find on the\nbranches of the tree two thousand?... And instead of two thousand\nsupposing I found five thousand? and instead of five thousand that\nI found a hundred thousand? Oh! what a fine gentleman I should then\nbecome!... I would have a beautiful palace, a thousand little wooden\nhorses and a thousand stables to amuse myself with, a cellar full of\ncurrant-wine, and sweet syrups, and a library quite full of candies,\ntarts, plum-cakes, macaroons, and biscuits with cream.\"\n\nWhilst he was building these castles in the air he had arrived in\nthe neighborhood of the field, and he stopped to look if by chance he\ncould perceive a tree with its branches laden with money; but he saw\nnothing. He advanced another hundred steps--nothing; he entered the\nfield ... he went right up to the little hole where he had buried\nhis gold pieces--and nothing. He then became very thoughtful, and\nforgetting the rules of society and good manners he took his hands out\nof his pockets and gave his head a long scratch.\n\nAt that moment he heard an explosion of laughter close to him, and\nlooking up he saw a large Parrot perched on a tree, who was preening\nthe few feathers he had left.\n\n\"Why are you laughing?\" asked Pinocchio in an angry voice.\n\n\"I am laughing because in preening my feathers I tickled myself under\nmy wings.\"\n\nThe puppet did not answer, but went to the canal and, filling the same\nold shoe full of water, he proceeded to water the earth afresh that\ncovered his gold pieces.\n\nWhilst he was thus occupied another laugh, and still more impertinent\nthan the first, rang out in the silence of that solitary place.\n\n\"Once for all,\" shouted Pinocchio in a rage, \"may I know, you\nill-educated Parrot, what are you laughing at?\"\n\n\"I am laughing at those simpletons who believe in all the foolish\nthings that are told them, and who allow themselves to be entrapped by\nthose who are more cunning than they are.\"\n\n\"Are you perhaps speaking of me?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am speaking of you, poor Pinocchio--of you who are simple\nenough to believe that money can be sown and gathered in fields in the\nsame way as beans and gourds. I also believed it once, and to-day I\nam suffering for it. To-day--but it is too late--I have at last learnt\nthat to put a few pennies honestly together it is necessary to know\nhow to earn them, either by the work of our own hands or by the\ncleverness of our own brains.\"\n\n\"I don't understand you,\" said the puppet who was already trembling\nwith fear.\n\n\"Have patience! I will explain myself better,\" rejoined the Parrot.\n\"You must know, then, that whilst you were in the town the Fox and the\nCat returned to the field; they took the buried money and then fled\nlike the wind. And now he that catches them will be clever.\"\n\nPinocchio remained with his mouth open, and not choosing to believe\nthe Parrot's words he began with his hands and nails to dig up the\nearth that he had watered. And he dug, and dug, and dug, and made such\na deep hole that a rick of straw might have stood up in it; but the\nmoney was no longer there.\n\nHe rushed back to the town in a state of desperation, and went at once\nto the Courts of Justice to denounce the two knaves who had robbed him\nto the judge.\n\nThe judge was a big ape of the gorilla tribe--an old ape respectable\nfor his age, his white beard, but especially for his gold spectacles\nwithout glasses that he always was obliged to wear, on account of an\ninflammation of the eyes that had tormented him for many years.\n\nPinocchio related in the presence of the judge all the particulars of\nthe infamous fraud of which he had been the victim. He gave the names,\nthe surnames, and other details, of the two rascals, and ended by\ndemanding justice.\n\nThe judge listened with great benignity; took a lively interest in the\nstory; and was much touched and moved; and when the puppet had nothing\nfurther to say he stretched out his hand and rang a bell.\n\nAt this summons two mastiffs immediately appeared dressed as\ngendarmes. The judge then, pointing to Pinocchio said to them:\n\n\"That poor devil has been robbed of four gold pieces; take him up, and\nput him immediately into prison.\"\n\nThe puppet was petrified on hearing this unexpected sentence, and\ntried to protest; but the gendarmes, to avoid losing time, stopped his\nmouth, and carried him off to the lockup.\n\nAnd there he remained for four months--four long months--and he would\nhave remained longer still if a fortunate chance had not released him.\nFor I must tell you that the young Emperor who reigned over the town\nof \"Trap for Blockheads,\" having won a splendid victory over his\nenemies, ordered great public rejoicings. There were illuminations,\nfire-works, horse races, and velocipede races, and as a further sign\nof triumph he commanded that the prisons should be opened and all\nprisoners liberated.\n\n\"If the others are to be let out of prison, I will go also,\" said\nPinocchio to the jailor.\n\n\"No, not you,\" said the jailor, \"because you do not belong to the\nfortunate class.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon,\" replied Pinocchio, \"I am also a criminal.\"\n\n\"In that case you are perfectly right,\" said the jailor; and taking\noff his hat and bowing to him respectfully he opened the prison door\nand let him escape.\n\n[Footnote 1: Copyright, 1898, by Jordan, Marsh and Co. Used by\npermission.]\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJAPANESE STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE MAN WHO DID NOT WISH TO DIE\n\nADAPTED BY YEI THEODORA OZAKI\n\n\nLong, long ago there lived a man called Sentaro. His surname meant\n\"Millionaire,\" but although he was not so rich as all that, he was\nstill very far removed from being poor. He had inherited a small\nfortune from his father and lived on this, spending his time\ncarelessly, without any serious thoughts of work, till he was about\nthirty-two years of age.\n\nOne day, without any reason whatsoever, the thought of death and\nsickness came to him. The idea of falling ill or dying made him very\nwretched.\n\n\"I should like to live,\" he said to himself, \"till I am five or six\nhundred years old at least, free from all sickness. The ordinary span\nof a man's life is very short.\"\n\nHe wondered whether it were possible, by living simply and frugally\nhenceforth, to prolong his life as long as he wished.\n\nHe knew there were many stories in ancient history of emperors who had\nlived a thousand years, and there was a Princess of Yamato, who it was\nsaid, lived to the age of five hundred. This was the latest story of a\nvery long life on record.\n\nSentaro had often heard the tale of the Chinese King named\nShin-no-Shiko. He was one of the most able and powerful rulers in\nChinese history. He built all the large palaces, and also the famous\ngreat wall of China. He had everything in the world he could wish for,\nbut in spite of all his happiness, and the luxury and splendor of his\ncourt, the wisdom of his councilors and the glory of his reign, he was\nmiserable because he knew that one day he must die and leave it all.\n\nWhen Shin-no-Shiko went to bed at night, when he rose in the morning,\nas he went through his day, the thought of death was always with him.\nHe could not get away from it. Ah--if only he could find the Elixir of\nLife, he would be happy.\n\nThe Emperor at last called a meeting of his courtiers and asked them\nall if they could not find for him the Elixir of Life of which he had\nso often read and heard.\n\nOne old courtier, Jofuku by name, said that far away across the seas\nthere was a country called Horaizan, and that certain hermits lived\nthere who possessed the secret of the Elixir of Life. Whoever drank of\nthis wonderful draught lived forever.\n\nThe Emperor ordered Jofuku to set out for the land of Horaizan, to\nfind the hermits, and to bring him back a phial of the magic elixir.\nHe gave Jofuku one of his best junks, fitted it out for him, and\nloaded it with great quantities of treasures and precious stones for\nJofuku to take as presents to the hermits.\n\nJofuku sailed for the land of Horaizan, but he never returned to the\nwaiting Emperor; but ever since that time Mount Fuji has been said to\nbe the fabled Horaizan and the home of hermits who had the secret of\nthe elixir, and Jofuku has been worshipped as their patron god.\n\nNow Sentaro determined to set out to find the hermits, and if he\ncould, to become one, so that he might obtain the water of perpetual\nlife. He remembered that as a child he had been told that not only did\nthese hermits live on Mount Fuji, but that they were said to inhabit\nall the very high peaks.\n\nSo he left his old home to the care of his relatives, and started out\non his quest. He traveled through all the mountainous regions of the\nland, climbing to the tops of the highest peaks, but never a hermit\ndid he find.\n\nAt last, after wandering in an unknown region for many days, he met a\nhunter.\n\n\"Can you tell me,\" asked Sentaro, \"where the hermits live who have the\nElixir of Life?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the hunter; \"I can't tell you where such hermits live, but\nthere is a notorious robber living in these parts. It is said that he\nis chief of a band of two hundred followers.\"\n\nThis odd answer irritated Sentaro very much, and he thought how\nfoolish it was to waste more time in looking for the hermits in this\nway, so he decided to go at once to the shrine of Jofuku, who is\nworshipped as the patron god of the hermits in the South of Japan.\n\nSentaro reached the shrine and prayed for seven days, entreating\nJofuku to show him the way to a hermit who could give him what he\nwanted so much to find.\n\nAt midnight of the seventh day, as Sentaro knelt in the temple, the\ndoor of the innermost shrine flew open, and Jofuku appeared in a\nluminous cloud, and calling to Sentaro to come nearer, spoke thus:\n\n\"Your desire is a very selfish one and cannot be easily granted. You\nthink that you would like to become a hermit so as to find the Elixir\nof Life. Do you know how hard a hermit's life is? A hermit is only\nallowed to eat fruit and berries and the bark of pine trees; a hermit\nmust cut himself off from the world so that his heart may become\nas pure as gold and free from every earthly desire. Gradually after\nfollowing these strict rules, the hermit ceases to feel hunger or cold\nor heat, and his body becomes so light that he can ride on a crane or\na carp, and can walk on water without getting his feet wet.\n\n\"You, Sentaro, are fond of good living and of every comfort. You are\nnot even like an ordinary man, for you are exceptionally idle, and\nmore sensitive to heat and cold than most people. You would never be\nable to go barefoot or to wear only one thin garment in the winter\ntime! Do you think that you would ever have the patience or the\nendurance to live a hermit's life?\n\n\"In answer to your prayer, however, I will help you in another way.\nI will send you to the country of Perpetual Life, where death never\ncomes--where the people live for ever!\"\n\nSaying this, Jofuku put into Sentaro's hand a little crane made of\npaper, telling him to sit on its back and it would carry him there.\n\nSentaro obeyed wonderingly. The crane grew large enough for him to\nride on it with comfort. It then spread its wings, rose high in the\nair, and flew away over the mountains right out to sea.\n\nSentaro was at first quite frightened; but by degrees he grew\naccustomed to the swift flight through the air. On and on they went\nfor thousands of miles. The bird never stopped for rest or food, but\nas it was a paper bird it doubtless did not require any nourishment,\nand strange to say, neither did Sentaro.\n\nAfter several days they reached an island. The crane flew some\ndistance inland and then alighted.\n\nAs soon as Sentaro got down from the bird's back, the crane folded up\nof its own accord and flew into his pocket.\n\nNow Sentaro began to look about him wonderingly, curious to see what\nthe country of Perpetual Life was like. He walked first round about\nthe country and then through the town. Everything was, of course,\nquite strange, and different from his own land. But both the land and\nthe people seemed prosperous, so he decided that it would be good for\nhim to stay there and took up lodgings at one of the hotels.\n\nThe proprietor was a kind man, and when Sentaro told him that he was a\nstranger and had come to live there, he promised to arrange everything\nthat was necessary with the governor of the city concerning Sentaro's\nsojourn there. He even found a house for his guest, and in this way\nSentaro obtained his great wish and became a resident in the country\nof Perpetual Life.\n\nWithin the memory of all the islanders no man had ever died there,\nand sickness was a thing unknown. Priests had come over from India\nand China and told them of a beautiful country called Paradise, where\nhappiness and bliss and contentment fill all men's hearts, but its\ngates could only be reached by dying. This tradition was handed down\nfor ages from generation to generation--but none knew exactly what\ndeath was except that it led to Paradise.\n\nQuite unlike Sentaro and other ordinary people, instead of having a\ngreat dread of death, they all, both rich and poor, longed for it as\nsomething good and desirable. They were all tired of their long,\nlong lives, and longed to go to the happy land of contentment called\nParadise of which the priests had told them centuries ago.\n\nAll this Sentaro soon found out by talking to the islanders. He found\nhimself, according to his ideas, in the land of _Topsy-turvydom_.\nEverything was upside down. He had wished to escape from dying. He had\ncome to the land of Perpetual Life with great relief and joy, only\nto find that the inhabitants themselves, doomed never to die, would\nconsider it bliss to find death.\n\nWhat he had hitherto considered poison these people ate as good\nfood, and all the things to which he had been accustomed as food they\nrejected. Whenever any merchants from other countries arrived, the\nrich people rushed to them eager to buy poisons. These they swallowed\neagerly hoping for death to come so that they might go to Paradise.\n\nBut what were deadly poisons in other lands were without effect in\nthis strange place, and people who swallowed them with the hope of\ndying, only found that in a short time they felt better in health\ninstead of worse.\n\nVainly they tried to imagine what death could be like. The wealthy\nwould have given all their money and all their goods if they could but\nshorten their lives to two or three hundred years even. Without any\nchange, to live on forever, seemed to this people wearisome and sad.\n\nIn the drug-shops there was a drug which was in constant demand,\nbecause after using it for a hundred years, it was supposed to turn\nthe hair slightly gray and to bring about disorders of the stomach.\n\nSentaro was astonished to find that the poisonous globe-fish was\nserved up in restaurants as a delectable dish, and hawkers in the\nstreets went about selling sauces made of Spanish flies. He never saw\nanyone ill after eating these horrible things, nor did he ever see\nanyone with as much as a cold.\n\nSentaro was delighted. He said to himself that he would never grow\ntired of living, and that he considered it profane to wish for death.\nHe was the only happy man on the island. For his part he wished\nto live thousands of years and to enjoy life. He set himself up in\nbusiness, and for the present never even dreamed of going back to his\nnative land.\n\nAs years went by, however, things did not go as smoothly as at first.\nHe had heavy losses in business, and several times some affairs went\nwrong with his neighbors. This caused him great annoyance.\n\nTime passed like the flight of an arrow for him, for he was busy from\nmorning till night. Three hundred years went by in this monotonous\nway, and then at last he began to grow tired of life in this country,\nand he longed to see his own land and his old home. However long he\nlived here, life would always be the same, so was it not foolish and\nwearisome to stay on here for ever?\n\nSentaro, in his wish to escape from the country of Perpetual Life,\nrecollected Jofuku, who had helped him before when he was wishing to\nescape from death--and he prayed to the saint to bring him back to his\nown land again.\n\nNo sooner did he pray than the paper crane popped out of his pocket.\nSentaro was amazed to see that it had remained undamaged after all\nthese years. Once more the bird grew and grew till it was large enough\nfor him to mount it. As he did so, the bird spread its wings and flew\nswiftly out across the sea in the direction of Japan.\n\nSuch was the wilfulness of the man's nature that he looked back and\nregretted all he had left behind. He tried to stop the bird in vain.\nThe crane held on its way for thousands of miles across the ocean.\n\nThen a storm came on, and the wonderful paper crane got damp, crumpled\nup, and fell into the sea. Sentaro fell with it. Very much frightened\nat the thought of being drowned, he cried out loudly to Jofuku to save\nhim. He looked round, but there was no ship in sight. He swallowed\na quantity of sea-water, which only increased his miserable plight.\nWhile he was thus struggling to keep himself afloat, he saw a\nmonstrous shark swimming towards him. As it came nearer it opened its\nhuge mouth ready to devour him. Sentaro was all but paralyzed with\nfear now that he felt his end so near, and screamed out as loudly as\never he could to Jofuku to come and rescue him.\n\nLo, and behold, Sentaro was awakened by his own screams, to find that\nduring his long prayer he had fallen asleep before the shrine, and\nthat all his extraordinary and frightful adventures had been only a\nwild dream. He was in a cold perspiration with fright, and utterly\nbewildered.\n\nSuddenly a bright light came towards him, and in the light stood a\nmessenger. The messenger held a book in his hand and spoke to Sentaro:\n\n\"I am sent to you by Jofuku, who in answer to your prayer, has\npermitted you in a dream to see the land of Perpetual Life. But you\ngrew weary of living there, and begged to be allowed to return to your\nnative land so that you might die. Jofuku, so that he might try you,\nallowed you to drop into the sea, and then sent a shark to swallow you\nup. Your desire for death was not real, for even at that moment you\ncried out loudly and shouted for help.\n\n\"It is also vain for you to wish to become a hermit, or to find the\nElixir of Life. These things are not for such as you--your life is not\naustere enough. It is best for you to go back to your paternal home,\nand to live a good and industrious life. Never neglect to keep the\nanniversaries of your ancestors, and make it your duty to provide for\nyour children's future. Thus will you live to a good old age and be\nhappy, but give up the vain desire to escape death, for no man can\ndo that, and by this time you have surely found out that even when\nselfish desires are granted they do not bring happiness.\n\n\"In this book I give you there are many precepts good for you to\nknow--if you study them, you will be guided in the way I have pointed\nout to you.\"\n\nThe angel disappeared as soon as he had finished speaking, and Sentaro\ntook the lesson to heart. With the book in his hand he returned to his\nold home, and giving up all his old vain wishes, tried to live a good\nand useful life and to observe the lessons taught him in the book, and\nhe and his house prospered henceforth.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE ACCOMPLISHED AND LUCKY TEAKETTLE\n\nADAPTED BY A. B. MITFORD\n\n\nA long time ago, at a temple called Morinji, in the province of\nJh\u00f4siu, there was an old teakettle. One day, when the priest of the\ntemple was about to hang it over the hearth to boil the water for his\ntea, to his amazement the kettle all of a sudden put forth the head\nand tail of a badger. What a wonderful kettle, to come out all over\nfur! The priest, thunderstruck, called in the novices of the temple to\nsee the sight; and whilst they were stupidly staring, one suggesting\none thing and another another, the kettle, jumping up into the air,\nbegan flying about the room. More astonished than ever, the priest and\nhis pupils tried to pursue it; but no thief or cat was ever half so\nsharp as this wonderful badger-kettle. At last, however, they managed\nto knock it down and secure it; and, holding it in with their united\nefforts, they forced it into a box, intending to carry it off and\nthrow it away in some distant place, so that they might be no more\nplagued by the goblin. For this day their troubles were over; but, as\nluck would have it, the tinker who was in the habit of working for the\ntemple called in, and the priest suddenly bethought him that it was a\npity to throw the kettle away for nothing, and that he might as\nwell get a trifle for it, no matter how small. So he brought out the\nkettle, which had resumed its former shape and had got rid of its head\nand tail, and showed it to the tinker. When the tinker saw the kettle,\nhe offered twenty copper coins for it, and the priest was only too\nglad to close the bargain and be rid of his troublesome piece of\nfurniture. But the tinker trudged off home with his pack and his new\npurchase. That night, as he lay asleep, he heard a strange noise near\nhis pillow; so he peered out from under the bedclothes, and there he\nsaw the kettle that he had bought in the temple covered with fur, and\nwalking about on four legs. The tinker started up in a fright to see\nwhat it could all mean, when all of a sudden the kettle resumed its\nformer shape. This happened over and over again, until at last the\ntinker showed the teakettle to a friend of his, who said: \"This is\ncertainly an accomplished and lucky teakettle. You should take it\nabout as a show, with songs and accompaniments of musical instruments,\nand make it dance and walk on the tight rope.\"\n\nThe tinker, thinking this good advice, made arrangements with\na showman, and set up an exhibition. The noise of the kettle's\nperformances soon spread abroad, until even the Princes of the land\nsent to order the tinker to come to them; and he grew rich beyond all\nhis expectations. Even the Princesses, too, and the great ladies of\nthe court, took great delight in the dancing kettle, so that no sooner\nhad it shown its tricks in one place than it was time for them to keep\nsome other engagement. At last the tinker grew so rich that he took\nthe kettle back to the temple, where it was laid up as a precious\ntreasure, and worshiped as a saint.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TONGUE-CUT SPARROW\n\n\nOnce upon a time a cross old woman laid some starch in a basin,\nintending to put it in the clothes in her wash-tub; but a Sparrow\nthat a woman, her neighbor, kept as a pet, ate it up. Seeing this, the\ncross old woman seized the Sparrow and, saying \"You hateful thing!\"\ncut its tongue and let it go.\n\nWhen the neighbor woman heard that her pet Sparrow had got its tongue\ncut for its offense, she was greatly grieved, and set out with her\nhusband over mountains and plains to find where it had gone, crying,\n\"Where does the tongue-cut Sparrow stay? Where does the tongue-cut\nSparrow stay?\"\n\nAt last they found its home. When the Sparrow saw that its old master\nand mistress had come to see it, it rejoiced, and brought them into\nits house and thanked them for their kindness in old times. It spread\na table for them, and loaded it with rice wine and fish till there\nwas no more room, and made its wife and children and grandchildren all\nserve the table.\n\nAt last, throwing away its drinking-cup, it danced a jig called the\nSparrow's dance, and thus they spent the day. When it began to grow\ndark, and there was talk of going home, the Sparrow brought out two\nwicker baskets and said, \"Will you take the heavy one, or shall I give\nyou the light one?\" The old people replied, \"We are old, so give us\nthe light one; it will be easier to carry it.\" The Sparrow then gave\nthem the light basket, and they returned with it to their home. \"Let\nus open and see what is in it,\" they said. And when they had opened it\nand looked, they found gold and silver and jewels and rolls of silk.\nThey never expected anything like this. The more they took out the\nmore they found inside. The supply was inexhaustible, so that the\nhouse at once became rich and prosperous. When the cross old woman who\nhad cut the Sparrow's tongue saw this, she was filled with envy, and\nwent and asked her neighbor where the Sparrow lived and all about the\nway. \"I will go, too,\" she said, and at once set out on her search.\n\nAgain the Sparrow brought out two wicker baskets, and asked as before,\n\"Will you take the heavy one, or shall I give you the light one?\"\n\nThinking the treasure would be great in proportion to the weight of\nthe basket, the old woman replied, \"Let me have the heavy one.\"\n\nReceiving this, she started home with it on her back, the sparrows\nlaughing at her as she went. It was as heavy as a stone, and hard to\ncarry, but at last she got back with it to her house.\n\nThen, when she took off the lid and looked in, a whole troop of\nfrightful creatures came bouncing out from the inside, and at once\nthey caught her up and flew away with her.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nBATTLE OF THE MONKEY AND THE CRAB\n\n\nA monkey and a Crab once met when going round a mountain.\n\nThe Monkey had picked up a persimmon-seed, and the Crab had a piece\nof toasted rice-cake. The Monkey, seeing this, and wishing to get\nsomething that could be turned to good account at once, said, \"Pray,\nexchange that rice-cake for this persimmon-seed.\" The Crab, without a\nword, gave up his cake, and took the persimmon-seed and planted it. At\nonce it sprung up, and soon became a tree so high one had to look far\nup to see it. The tree was full of persimmons, but the Crab had no\nmeans of climbing it, so he asked the Monkey to scramble up and get\nthe fruit for him. The Monkey got up on a limb of the tree and began\nto eat the persimmons. The unripe ones he threw at the Crab, but all\nthe ripe and good ones he put in his pouch. The Crab under the tree\nthus got his shell badly bruised, and only by good luck escaped into\nhis hole, where he lay distressed with pain, and not able to get up.\nNow, when the relatives and household of the Crab heard how matters\nstood, they were surprised and angry, and declared war, and attacked\nthe Monkey, who, leading forth a numerous following, bade defiance to\nthe other party. The crabs, finding themselves unable to meet and\ncope with this force, became still more exasperated and enraged,\nand retreated into their hole and held a council of war. Then came a\nrice-mortar, a pestle, a bee, and an egg, and together they devised a\ndeep-laid plot to be avenged.\n\nFirst, they requested that peace be made with the crabs; and thus they\ninduced the king of the monkeys to enter their hole unattended, and\nseated him on the hearth. The Monkey, not suspecting any plot, took\nthe _hibashi_, or poker, to stir up the slumbering fire, when bang!\nwent the egg, which was lying hidden in the ashes, and burned the\nMonkey's arm. Surprised and alarmed, he plunged his arm into the\npickle-tub in the kitchen to relieve the pain of the burn. Then the\nbee which was hidden near the tub stung him sharply in his face,\nalready wet with tears. Without waiting to brush off the bee, and\nhowling bitterly, he rushed for the back door; but just then some\nseaweed entangled his legs and made him slip. Then down came the\npestle, tumbling on him from a shelf, and the mortar, too, came\nrolling down on him from the roof of the porch and broke his back, and\nso weakened him that he was unable to rise up. Then out came the crabs\nin a crowd, and brandishing on high their pinchers they pinched the\nMonkey so sorely that he begged them for forgiveness and promised\nnever to repeat his meanness and treachery.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nMOMOTARO, OR LITTLE PEACHLING\n\n\nA long long time ago there lived an old man and an old woman. One day\nthe old man went to the mountains to cut grass; and the old woman went\nto the river to wash clothes. While she was washing a great thing came\ntumbling and splashing down the stream. When the old woman saw it she\nwas very glad, and pulled it to her with a piece of bamboo that lay\nnear by. When she took it up and looked at it she saw that it was a\nvery large peach. She then quickly finished her washing and returned\nhome intending to give the peach to her old man to eat.\n\nWhen she cut the peach in two, out came a child from the large kernel.\nSeeing this the old couple rejoiced, and named the child Momotaro,\nor Little Peachling, because he came out of a peach. As both the\nold people took good care of him, he grew and became strong and\nenterprising. So the old couple had their expectations raised, and\nbestowed still more care on his education.\n\nMomotaro finding that he excelled everybody in strength, determined\nto cross over to the island of the devils, take their riches, and come\nback. He at once consulted with the old man and the old woman about\nthe matter, and got them to make him some dumplings. These he put\nin his pouch. Besides this he made every kind of preparation for his\njourney to the island of the devils and set out.\n\nThen first a dog came to the side of the way and said, \"Momotaro! What\nhave you there hanging at your belt?\" He replied, \"I have some of the\nvery best Japanese millet dumplings.\" \"Give me one and I will go with\nyou,\" said the dog. So Momotaro took a dumpling out of his pouch and\ngave it to the dog. Then a monkey came and got one the same way. A\npheasant also came flying and said, \"Give me a dumpling too, and I\nwill go along with you.\" So all three went along with him. In no time\nthey arrived at the island of the devils, and at once broke through\nthe front gate; Momotaro first; then his three followers. Here they\nmet a great multitude of the devils' retainers who showed fight, but\nthey pressed still inwards, and at last encountered the chief of the\ndevils, called Akandoji. Then came the tug of war. Akandoji hit at\nMomotaro with an iron club, but Momotaro was ready for him, and dodged\nhim adroitly. At last they grappled each other, and without difficulty\nMomotaro just crushed down Akandoji and tied him with a rope so\ntightly that he could not even move. All this was done in a fair\nfight.\n\nAfter this Akandoji the chief of the devils said he would surrender\nall his riches. \"Out with your riches then,\" said Momotaro laughing.\nHaving collected and ranged in order a great pile of precious things,\nMomotaro took them, and set out for his home, rejoicing, as he marched\nbravely back, that, with the help of his three companions, to whom he\nattributed all his success, he had been able so easily to accomplish\nhis end.\n\nGreat was the joy of the old man and the old woman when Momotaro\ncame back. He feasted everybody bountifully, told many stories of his\nadventure, displayed his riches, and at last became a leading man,\na man of influence, very rich and honorable; a man to be very much\ncongratulated indeed!!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nURASCHIMA TARO AND THE TURTLE\n\n\nUraschima Taro, which means in Japanese \"Son of the Island,\" was the\nonly and dearly beloved son of an old fisherman and his wife:\n\nHe was a fine, strong youth, who could manage a boat more cleverly\nthan any one else on the neighboring coast. He often ventured so far\nout to sea that neighbors warned his parents that he would sometime go\ntoo far and never return.\n\nHis parents knew, however, that he understood his boat and the sea\nvery well, and they were never much concerned about him. Even when\nhe failed to come back as soon as he was expected, they awaited his\nreturn without anxiety. They loved him better than their own lives,\nand were proud that he was braver and stronger than their neighbors'\nsons.\n\nEarly one morning, Uraschima Taro went to haul in his nets, which had\nbeen set the night before. In one of them, among some fishes, he found\na small turtle. This he placed in the boat, by itself, where it would\nsafely keep, until he could take it home. To his amazement, the turtle\nbegged for its life in most pitiful tones. \"Of what use am I to you?\"\nit asked. \"I am too small to eat, and so young that it will take me a\nlong time to grow. Have mercy and put me back into the sea, for I do\nnot want to die.\" Uraschima Taro had a very kind heart and could not\nbear to see anything that was small and helpless suffer; so he did as\nthe turtle asked him.\n\nSeveral years after this, when Uraschima Taro was one day far out at\nsea, a terrible whirlwind struck his boat and shattered it. He was a\ngood swimmer, and managed for a long time to make progress toward the\nland; but as he was so far from shore in the rough sea, his strength\nat last gave out and he felt himself sinking. Just as he had given up\nhope, and thought that he would never see his dear parents again, he\nheard his name called and saw a large turtle swimming toward him.\n\n\"Climb on my back,\" shouted the turtle, \"and I will carry you to\nland.\" When Uraschima Taro was safely sitting on the turtle's back it\ncontinued: \"I am the turtle whose life you saved when you found me,\nlittle and helpless, in your net, and I am glad of this opportunity to\nshow that I am not ungrateful.\"\n\nBefore they reached the shore, the turtle asked Uraschima Taro how he\nwould like to be shown some of the wonderful beauties hidden under the\nsea. The young fisherman replied that the experience would please him.\nIn a moment they were shooting down through the green water. He clung\nto the turtle's back, who carried him many, many fathoms below.\nAfter three nights they reached the bottom of the sea, and came to a\nwonderful palace of gold and crystal. Coral and pearls and precious\nstones dazzled his eyes; but inside, the palace was more beautiful\nstill, and blazing fish scales lighted it.\n\n\"This,\" said the turtle, \"is the palace of the sea-god. I am a\nwaiting-maid to his lovely daughter, the Princess.\"\n\nThe turtle went to announce the arrival of Uraschima Taro to the\nPrincess, and soon returning, led him to her presence. She was so\nbeautiful that when she asked him to remain in the palace he gladly\nconsented.\n\n\"Do not leave me, and you shall always be as handsome as you are now,\nand old age cannot come to you,\" she said.\n\nSo it happened that Uraschima Taro lived in the marvelous palace at\nthe bottom of the sea with the daughter of the sea-god. He was so\nhappy that the time passed by unheeded. How long he dwelt there he\ncould not have told. But one day he thought of his parents; then he\nremembered that they must be troubled by his absence. The thought of\nthem kept coming to him continually, and the longing to see them grew\nso strong that at last he told the Princess he must go to visit them.\nShe begged him not to leave her and wept bitterly.\n\n\"If you go, I shall never see you again,\" she sobbed.\n\nBut he told her that he must see his father and mother once again;\nthen he would return to the palace in the sea, to be with her always.\nWhen she found that she could not persuade him to remain, she gave him\na small gold box, which, she told him, he must on no account open.\n\n\"If you heed my words,\" said she, \"you may come back to me. When you\nare ready, the turtle will be there to bring you; but if you forget\nwhat I have told you, I shall never see you again.\"\n\nUraschima Taro fondly assured her that nothing in the world should\nkeep him from her, and bade her farewell. Mounting the turtle's back,\nhe soon left the palace far below. For three days and three nights\nthey swam, and then the turtle left him on the familiar sands near his\nold home.\n\nHe eagerly ran to the village and looked about for some of his\ncomrades. All of the faces were strange, and even the houses seemed\ndifferent. The children, playing in the street where he had lived, he\nhad never seen before. Stopping in front of his own house, he regarded\nit with a sinking heart. There was the sound of music from a window\nabove, and a strange woman opened the door to him. She could tell him\nnothing of his parents, and had never heard their names. Every one\nwhom he questioned looked at him curiously. At last he wandered from\nthe village and came to the burying ground. Searching about among the\ngraves, he soon found himself beside a stone bearing the dear names he\nsought. The date showed him that his father and mother had died soon\nafter he left them; and then he discovered that he had been away from\nhis home three hundred years. Bowed with sorrow, he went back to the\ncity. At each step he hoped to wake and find it all a dream, but the\npeople and streets were real.\n\nHe thought of the Princess, and remembered the gold box she had given\nto him. It might be that he was under some cruel enchantment, and that\nthis box contained the charm to break the spell. He eagerly raised\nthe cover, and a purple vapor escaped and left the box empty. To his\nalarm, he noticed that the hand that held it had shriveled and grown\nsuddenly old. Trembling with horror, he ran to a stream of water which\nran down from the mountain, and saw reflected in its waters the face\nof a mummy.\n\nHe crawled fearfully back to the village, and no one recognized him\nas the strong youth who had entered it a few hours before. Nearly\nexhausted; he finally reached the shore, where he sat wearily on a\nrock and cried to the turtle. But he called to it in vain; the turtle\nnever came, and soon his quavering voice was hushed in death.\n\nBefore he died, the people of the village gathered about him and\nlistened to his strange story. Long afterward they told their children\nof the young man who, for the love of his parents, left a marvelous\npalace in the sea, and a Princess more beautiful than the day.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nEAST INDIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nTHE SON OF SEVEN QUEENS\n\nADAPTED BY JOSEPH JACOBS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King who had seven Queens, but no\nchildren. This was a great grief to him, especially when he remembered\nthat on his death there would be no heir to inherit the kingdom.\n\nNow it happened one day that a poor old fakir came to the King and\nsaid, \"Your prayers are heard, your desire shall be accomplished, and\none of your seven Queens shall bear a son.\"\n\nThe King's delight at this promise knew no bounds, and he gave orders\nfor appropriate festivities to be prepared against the coming event\nthroughout the length and breadth of the land.\n\nMeanwhile the seven Queens lived luxuriously in a splendid palace,\nattended by hundreds of female slaves, and fed to their hearts'\ncontent on sweetmeats and confectionery.\n\nNow the King was very fond of hunting, and one day, before he started,\nthe seven Queens sent him a message saying, \"May it please our dearest\nlord not to hunt toward the north to-day, for we have dreamed bad\ndreams, and fear lest evil should befall you.\"\n\nThe King, to allay their anxiety, promised regard for their wishes,\nand set out toward the south; but as luck would have it, although he\nhunted diligently, he found no game. Nor had he more success to the\neast or west, so that, being a keen sportsman, and determined not to\ngo home empty-handed, he forgot all about his promise and turned to\nthe north. Here also he was at first unsuccessful, but just as he had\nmade up his mind to give up for that day, a white hind with golden\nhorns and silver hoofs flashed past him into a thicket. So quickly\ndid it pass that he scarcely saw it; nevertheless, a burning desire to\ncapture and possess the beautiful strange creature filled his breast.\nHe instantly ordered his attendants to form a ring round the thicket,\nand so encircle the hind; then, gradually narrowing the circle, he\npressed forward till he could distinctly see the white hind panting in\nthe midst. Nearer and nearer he advanced, till just as he thought to\nlay hold of the beautiful strange creature, it gave one mighty bound,\nleaped clean over the King's head, and fled toward the mountains.\nForgetful of all else, the King, setting spurs to his horse, followed\nat full speed. On, on he galloped, leaving his retinue far behind,\nkeeping the white hind in view, never drawing bridle until, finding\nhimself in a narrow ravine with no outlet, he reined in his steed.\nBefore him stood a miserable hovel, into which, being tired after his\nlong, unsuccessful chase, he entered to ask for a drink of water. An\nold woman, seated in the hut at a spinning-wheel, answered his request\nby calling to her daughter, and immediately from an inner room came\na maiden so lovely and charming, so white-skinned and golden-haired,\nthat the King was transfixed by astonishment at seeing so beautiful a\nsight in the wretched hovel.\n\nShe held the vessel of water to the King's lips, and as he drank he\nlooked into her eyes, and then it became clear to him that the girl\nwas no other than the white hind with the golden horns and silver feet\nhe had chased so far.\n\nHer beauty bewitched him, so he fell on his knees, begging her to\nreturn with him as his bride; but she only laughed, saying seven\nQueens were quite enough even for a King to manage. However, when he\nwould take no refusal, but implored her to have pity on him, promising\nher everything she could desire, she replied, \"Give me the eyes of\nyour seven Queens, and then perhaps I may believe you mean what you\nsay.\"\n\nThe King was so carried away by the glamor of the white hind's magical\nbeauty that he went home at once, had the eyes of his seven Queens\ntaken out, and, after throwing the poor blind creatures into a noisome\ndungeon whence they could not escape, set off once more for the hovel\nin the ravine, bearing with him his horrible offering. But the\nwhite hind only laughed cruelly when she saw the fourteen eyes,\nand threading them as a necklace, flung it round her mother's neck,\nsaying, \"Wear that, little mother, as a keepsake, while I am away in\nthe King's palace.\"\n\nThen she went back with the bewitched Monarch, as his bride, and he\ngave her the seven Queens' rich clothes and jewels to wear, the seven\nQueens' palace to live in, and the seven Queens' slaves to wait upon\nher; so that she really had everything even a witch could desire.\n\nNow, very soon after the seven wretched hapless Queens had their eyes\ntorn out, and were cast into prison, a baby was born to the youngest\nof the Queens. It was a handsome boy, but the other Queens were very\njealous that the youngest among them should be so fortunate. But\nthough at first they disliked the handsome little boy, he soon proved\nso useful to them, that ere long they all looked on him as their son.\nAlmost as soon as he could walk about he began scraping at the mud\nwall of their dungeon, and in an incredibly short space of time had\nmade a hole big enough for him to crawl through. Through this he\ndisappeared, returning in an hour or so laden with sweetmeats, which\nhe divided equally among the seven blind Queens.\n\nAs he grew older he enlarged the hole, and slipped out two or three\ntimes every day to play with the little nobles in the town. No one\nknew who the tiny boy was, but everybody liked him, and he was so full\nof funny tricks and antics, so merry and bright, that he was sure to\nbe rewarded by some girdle-cakes, a handful of parched grain, or some\nsweetmeats. All these, things he brought home to his seven mothers, as\nhe loved to call the seven blind Queens, who by his help lived on in\ntheir dungeon when all the world thought they had starved to death\nages before.\n\nAt last, when he was quite a big lad, he one day took his bow and\narrow, and went out to seek for game. Coming by chance past the palace\nwhere the white hind lived in wicked splendor and magnificence, he saw\nsome pigeons fluttering round the white marble turrets, and, taking\ngood aim, shot one dead. It came tumbling past the very window where\nthe white Queen was sitting; she rose to see what was the matter, and\nlooked out. At the first glance of the handsome young lad standing\nthere bow in hand, she knew by witchcraft that it was the King's son.\n\nShe nearly died of envy and spite, determining to destroy the lad\nwithout delay; therefore, sending a servant to bring him to her\npresence, she asked him if he would sell her the pigeon he had just\nshot.\n\n\"No,\" replied the sturdy lad, \"the pigeon is for my seven blind\nmothers, who live in the noisome dungeon, and who would die if I did\nnot bring them food.\"\n\n\"Poor souls!\" cried the cunning white witch. \"Would you not like\nto bring them their eyes again? Give me the pigeon, my dear, and I\nfaithfully promise to show you where to find them.\"\n\nHearing this, the lad was delighted beyond measure, and gave up the\npigeon at once. Whereupon the white Queen told him to seek her mother\nwithout delay, and ask for the eyes which she wore as a necklace.\n\n\"She will not fail to give them,\" said the cruel Queen, \"if you show\nher this token on which I have written what I want done.\"\n\nSo saying, she gave the lad a piece of broken potsherd, with these\nwords inscribed on it, \"Kill the bearer at once, and sprinkle his\nblood like water!\"\n\nNow, as the son of seven Queens could not read, he took the fatal\nmessage cheerfully, and set off to find the white Queen's mother.\n\nWhile he was journeying he passed through a town where every one of\nthe inhabitants looked so sad that he could not help asking what was\nthe matter. They told him it was because the King's only daughter\nrefused to marry; therefore when her father died there would be no\nheir to the throne. They greatly feared she must be out of her mind,\nfor though every good-looking young man in the kingdom had been shown\nto her, she declared she would only marry one who was the son of seven\nmothers, and who had ever heard of such a thing? The King, in despair,\nhad ordered every man who entered the city gates to be led before the\nPrincess; so, much to the lad's impatience, for he was in an\nimmense hurry to find his mothers' eyes, he was dragged into the\npresence-chamber.\n\nNo sooner did the Princess catch sight of him than she blushed, and,\nturning to the King, said, \"Dear father, this is my choice!\"\n\nNever were such rejoicings as these few words produced. The\ninhabitants nearly went wild with joy, but the son of seven Queens\nsaid he would not marry the Princess unless they first let him recover\nhis mothers' eyes. When the beautiful bride heard his story, she asked\nto see the potsherd, for she was very learned and clever. Seeing the\ntreacherous words, she said nothing, but taking another similar-shaped\nbit of potsherd, she wrote on it these words, \"Take care of this\nlad, giving him all he desires,\" and returned it to the son of seven\nQueens, who, none the wiser, set off on his quest.\n\nEre long he arrived at the hovel in the ravine where the white witch's\nmother, a hideous old creature, grumbled dreadfully on reading the\nmessage, especially when the lad asked for the necklace of eyes.\nNevertheless she took it off and gave it him, saying, \"There are only\nthirteen of 'em now, for I lost one last week.\"\n\nThe lad, however, was only too glad to get any at all, so he hurried\nhome as fast as he could to his seven mothers, and gave two eyes\napiece to the six elder Queens; but to the youngest he gave one,\nsaying, \"Dearest little mother!--I will be your other eye always!\"\n\nAfter this he set off to marry the Princess, as he had promised, but\nwhen passing by the white Queen's palace he saw some pigeons on the\nroof. Drawing his bow, he shot one, and it came fluttering past the\nwindow. The white hind looked out, and lo! there was the King's son\nalive and well.\n\nShe cried with hatred and disgust, but sending for the lad, asked him\nhow he had returned so soon, and when she heard how he had brought\nhome the thirteen eyes, and given them to the seven blind Queens,\nshe could hardly restrain her rage. Nevertheless she pretended to be\ncharmed with his success, and told him that if he would give her this\npigeon also, she would reward him with the Jogi's wonderful cow, whose\nmilk flows all day long, and makes a pond as big as a kingdom. The\nlad, nothing loth, gave her the pigeon; whereupon, as before, she bade\nhim go and ask her mother for the cow, and gave him a potsherd where\non was written, \"Kill this lad without fail, and sprinkle his blood\nlike water!\"\n\nBut on the way the son of seven Queens looked in on the Princess,\njust to tell her how he came to be delayed, and she, after reading the\nmessage on the potsherd, gave him another in its stead; so that when\nthe lad reached the old hag's hut and asked her for the Jogi's cow,\nshe could not refuse, but told the boy how to find it; and bidding\nhim of all things not to be afraid of the eighteen thousand demons who\nkept watch and ward over the treasure, told him to be off before she\nbecame too angry at her daughter's foolishness in thus giving away so\nmany good things.\n\nThen the lad bravely did as he had been told. He journeyed on and on\ntill he came to a milk-white pond, guarded by the eighteen thousand\ndemons. They were really frightful to behold, but, plucking up\ncourage, he whistled a tune as he walked through them, looking neither\nto the right nor the left. By and by he came upon the Jogi's cow,\ntall, white, and beautiful, while the Jogi himself, who was king of\nall the demons, sat milking her day and night, and the milk streamed\nfrom her udder, filling the milk-white tank.\n\nThe Jogi, seeing the lad, called out fiercely, \"What do you want\nhere?\"\n\nThen the lad answered, according to the old hag's bidding, \"I want\nyour skin, for King Indra is making a new kettledrum, and says your\nskin is nice and tough.\"\n\nUpon this the Jogi began to shiver and shake (for no Jinn or Jogi\ndares disobey King Indra's command), and, falling at the lad's feet,\ncried, \"If you will spare me I will give you anything I possess, even\nmy beautiful white cow!\"\n\nTo this the son of seven Queens, after a little pretended hesitation,\nagreed, saying that after all it would not be difficult to find a nice\ntough skin like the Jogi's elsewhere; so driving the wonderful cow\nbefore him, he set off homeward.\n\nThe seven Queens were delighted to possess so marvelous an animal,\nand though they toiled from morning till night making curds and whey,\nbesides selling milk to the confectioners, they could not use half the\ncow gave, and became richer and richer day by day.\n\nSeeing them so comfortably off, the son of seven Queens started with\na light heart to marry the Princess; but when passing the white hind's\npalace he could not resist sending a bolt at some pigeons that were\ncooing on the parapet. One fell dead just beneath the window where\nthe white Queen was sitting. Looking out, she saw the lad, hale and\nhearty, standing before her, and grew whiter than ever with rage and\nspite.\n\nShe sent for him to ask how he had returned so soon, and when she\nheard how kindly her mother had received him, she very nearly had a\nfit. However, she dissembled her feelings as well as she could, and,\nsmiling sweetly, said she was glad to have been able to fulfil her\npromise, and that if he would give her this third pigeon, she would\ndo yet more for him than she had done before, by giving him the\nmillionfold rice, which ripens in one night.\n\nThe lad was of course delighted at the very idea, and, giving up the\npigeon, set off on his quest, armed as before with a potsherd, on\nwhich was written, \"Do not fail this time. Kill the lad, and sprinkle\nhis blood like water!\"\n\nBut when he looked in on his Princess, just to prevent her becoming\nanxious about him, she asked to see the potsherd as usual, and\nsubstituted another, on which was written, \"Yet again give this lad\nall he requires, for his blood shall be as your blood!\"\n\nNow when the old hag saw this, and heard how the lad wanted the\nmillionfold rice which ripens in a single night, she fell into the\nmost furious rage, but being terribly afraid of her daughter, she\ncontrolled herself, and bade the boy go and find the field guarded by\neighteen millions of demons, warning him on no account to look back\nafter having plucked the tallest spike of rice, which grew in the\ncenter.\n\nSo the son of seven Queens set off, and soon came to the field where,\nguarded by eighteen millions of demons, the millionfold rice grew.\nHe walked on bravely, looking neither to the right nor left, till\nhe reached the center and plucked the tallest ear, but as he turned\nhomeward a thousand sweet voices rose behind him, crying in tenderest\naccents, \"Pluck me too! oh, please pluck me too!\" He looked back, and\nlo! there was nothing left of him but a little heap of ashes!\n\nNow as time passed by and the lad did not return, the old hag grew\nuneasy, remembering the message \"His blood shall be as your blood\"; so\nshe set off to see what had happened.\n\nSoon she came to the heap of ashes, and knowing by her arts what it\nwas, she took a little water, and kneading the ashes into a paste,\nformed it into the likeness of a man; then, putting a drop of blood\nfrom her little finger into its mouth, she blew on it, and instantly\nthe son of seven Queens started up as well as ever.\n\n\"Don't you disobey orders again!\" grumbled the old hag, \"or next time\nI'll leave you alone. Now be off, before I repent of my kindness!\"\n\nSo the son of seven Queens returned joyfully to his seven mothers,\nwho, by the aid of the millionfold rice, soon became the richest\npeople in the kingdom. Then they celebrated their son's marriage to\nthe clever Princess with all imaginable pomp; but the bride was so\nclever, she would not rest until she had made known her husband to his\nfather, and punished the wicked white witch. So she made her husband\nbuild a palace exactly like the one in which the seven Queens had\nlived, and in which the white witch now dwelt in splendor. Then, when\nall was prepared, she bade her husband give a grand feast to the King.\nNow the King had heard much of the mysterious son of seven queens, and\nhis marvelous wealth, so he gladly accepted the invitation; but what\nwas his astonishment when on entering the palace he found it was a\nfacsimile of his own in every particular! And when his host, richly\nattired, led him straight to the private hall, where on royal thrones\nsat the seven Queens, dressed as he had last seen them, he was\nspeechless with surprise, until the Princess, coming forward, threw\nherself at his feet and told him the whole story. Then the King awoke\nfrom his enchantment, and his anger rose against the wicked white hind\nwho had bewitched him so long, until he could not contain himself. So\nshe was put to death, and her grave plowed over, and after that the\nseven Queens returned to their own splendid palace, and everybody\nlived happily.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nWHO KILLED THE OTTER'S BABIES\n\nADAPTED BY WALTER SKEAT\n\n\nThe Otter said to the Mouse-deer, \"Friend Mouse-deer, will you be so\ngood as to take charge of the children till I come back? I am going\ndown to the river to catch fish, and when I come back, I'll share the\ncatch with you.\" The Mouse-deer replied, \"Very well! go along, and\nI'll look after the children.\" So the Otter went down to the river to\ncatch fish.\n\n(Here the story of What the Otter Did stops and the story of What\nHappened when the Woodpecker Sounded the War-gong commences.) The\nMouse-deer was Chief Dancer of the War-dance, and as he danced he\ntrod on the Otter's babies and crushed them flat. Presently the Otter\nreturned home, bringing a string of fish with him. On arriving he\nsaw that his children had been killed, and exclaimed, \"How comes it,\nFriend Mouse-deer, that my babies have died?\" The Mouse-deer replied:\n\"The Woodpecker came and sounded the war-gong, and I, being Chief\nWar-Dancer, danced; and, forgetting about your children, I trod upon\nthem and crushed them flat.\"\n\nOn hearing this the Otter went and made complaint unto King Solomon,\nprostrating himself and saying: \"Your Majesty's most humble slave\ncraves pardon for presuming to address your Majesty, but Friend\nMouse-deer has murdered your slave's children, and your slave desires\nto learn whether he is guilty or not according to the Law of the\nLand.\" King Solomon replied, saying, \"If the Mouse-deer hath done this\nthing wittingly, assuredly he is guilty of death.\" Then he summoned\nthe Mouse-deer before him.\n\nAnd when the Mouse-deer came into the presence of the King, the King\ninquired of the Otter, \"What is your charge against him?\" The Otter\nreplied, \"Your slave accuses him of the murder of your slave's\nchildren; your slave would hear the Law of the Land.\" Then the King\nsaid unto the Mouse-deer, \"Was it your doing that the Otter's children\nwere killed?\" The Mouse-deer replied, \"Assuredly it was, but I crave\npardon for doing so.\" \"How was it, then,\" said the King, \"that you\ncame to kill them?\" The Mouse-deer replied, \"Your slave came to kill\nthem because the Woodpecker appeared and sounded the War-gong. Your\nslave, as your Majesty is aware, is Chief Dancer of the War-dance;\ntherefore your slave danced, and, forgetting about the Otter's\nchildren, your slave trod upon them and crushed them flat.\" Here the\nKing sent for the Woodpecker also, and the Woodpecker came before him.\n\"Was it you, Woodpecker,\" said the King, \"who sounded the war-gong?\"\n\"Assuredly it was,\" said the Woodpecker,--\"forasmuch as your slave saw\nthe Great Lizard wearing his sword.\" The King replied, \"If that is the\ncase, there is no fault to be found in the Woodpecker\" (for the\nWoodpecker was Chief Beater of the War-gong). Then the King commanded\nthe Great Lizard to be summoned, and when he arrived, the King\ninquired, \"Was it you, Lizard, wearing your sword?\" The Great Lizard\nreplied, \"Assuredly it was, your Majesty.\" \"And why were you wearing\nyour sword?\" The Great Lizard replied, \"Your slave wore it forasmuch\nas your slave saw that the Tortoise had donned his coat of mail.\" So\nthe Tortoise was summoned likewise. \"Why did you, Tortoise, don your\ncoat of mail?\" The Tortoise replied, \"Your slave donned it forasmuch\nas your slave saw the King-crab trailing his three-edged pike.\" Then\nthe King-crab was sent for. \"Why were you, King-crab, trailing your\nthree-edged pike?\" \"Because your slave saw that the Crayfish had\nshouldered his lance.\" Then the King sent for the Crayfish, and said,\n\"Was it you, Crayfish, who was shouldering your lance?\" And the\nCrayfish replied, \"Assuredly it was, your Majesty.\" \"And why did you\nshoulder it?\" \"Because your slave saw the Otter coming down to devour\nyour slave's own children.\" \"Oh,\" said King Solomon, \"if that is the\ncase, you, Otter are the guilty party, and your complaint of your\nchildren's death cannot be sustained against the Mouse-deer by the\nLaw of the Land.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE ALLIGATOR AND THE JACKAL\n\nADAPTED BY M. FRERE\n\n\nA hungry Jackal once went down to the riverside in search of little\ncrabs, bits of fish, and whatever else he could find for his dinner.\nNow it chanced that in this river there lived a great big Alligator,\nwho, being also very hungry, would have been extremely glad to eat the\nJackal.\n\nThe Jackal ran up and down, here and there, but for a long time could\nfind nothing to eat. At last, close to where the Alligator was lying\namong some tall bulrushes under the clear, shallow water, he saw a\nlittle crab sidling along as fast as his legs could carry him. The\nJackal was so hungry that when he saw this he poked his paw into the\nwater to try to catch the crab, when snap! the old Alligator caught\nhold of him. \"Oh, dear!\" thought the Jackal to himself, \"what can I\ndo? This great, big Alligator has caught my paw in his mouth, and in\nanother minute he will drag me down by it under the water and kill\nme. My only chance is to make him think he has made a mistake.\" So he\ncalled out in a cheerful voice: \"Clever Alligator, clever Alligator,\nto catch hold of a bulrush root instead of my paw! I hope you find\nit very tender.\" The Alligator, who was so buried among the bulrushes\nthat he could hardly see, thought, on hearing this: \"Dear me, how\ntiresome! I fancied I had caught hold of the Jackal's paw; but there\nhe is, calling out in a cheerful voice. I suppose I must have seized a\nbulrush root instead, as he says,\" and he let the Jackal go.\n\nThe Jackal ran away as fast as he could, crying, \"O wise Alligator,\nwise Alligator! So you let me go again!\"\n\nThen the Alligator was very much vexed, but the Jackal had run away\ntoo far to be caught. Next day the Jackal returned to the riverside to\nget his dinner as before; but because he was very much afraid of the\nAlligator he called out: \"Whenever I go to look for my dinner, I see\nthe nice little crabs peeping up through the mud; then I catch them\nand eat them. I wish I could see one now.\"\n\nThe Alligator, who was buried in the mud at the bottom of the river,\nheard every word. So he popped the little point of his snout above it,\nthinking: \"If I do but just show the tip of my nose, the Jackal will\ntake me for a crab and put in his paw to catch me, and as soon as ever\nhe does I'll gobble him up.\"\n\nBut no sooner did the Jackal see the little tip of the Alligator's\nnose than he called out, \"Aha, my friend! there you are. No dinner for\nme in this part of the river, then, I think.\" And so saying, he ran\nfarther on and fished for his dinner a long way from that place.\nThe Alligator was very angry at missing his prey a second time, and\ndetermined not to let him escape again.\n\nSo on the following day, when his little tormentor returned to the\nwaterside, the Alligator hid himself close to the bank, in order to\ncatch him if he could. Now the Jackal was rather afraid of going\nnear the river, for he thought, \"Perhaps the Alligator will catch\nme to-day.\" But yet, being hungry, he did not wish to go without his\ndinner; so to make all as safe as he could, he cried: \"Where are all\nthe little crabs gone? There is not one here and I am so hungry; and\ngenerally, even when they are under water, one can see them going\nbubble, bubble, bubble, and all the little bubbles go pop! pop! pop!\"\nOn hearing this the Alligator, who was buried in the mud under the\nriver bank, thought: \"I will pretend to be a little crab.\" And he\nbegan to blow, \"Puff, puff, puff! Bubble, bubble, bubble!\" and all the\ngreat bubbles rushed to the surface of the river and burst there, and\nthe waters eddied round and round like a whirlpool; and there was such\na commotion when the huge monster began to blow bubbles in this way\nthat the Jackal saw very well who must be there, and he ran away as\nfast as he could, saying, \"Thank you, kind Alligator, thank you;\nthank you! Indeed, I would not have come here had I known you were so\nclose.\"\n\nThis enraged the Alligator extremely; it made him quite cross to think\nof being so often deceived by a little Jackal, and he said to himself,\n\"I will be taken in no more. Next time I will be very cunning.\" So\nfor a long time he waited and waited for the Jackal to return to the\nriverside; but the Jackal did not come, for he had thought to himself:\n\"If matters go on in this way, I shall some day be caught and eaten by\nthe wicked old Alligator. I had better content myself with living\non wild figs,\" and he went no more near the river, but stayed in the\njungles and ate wild figs, and roots which he dug up with his paws.\n\nWhen the Alligator found this out, he determined to try and catch the\nJackal on land; so, going under the largest of the wild fig-trees,\nwhere the ground was covered with the fallen fruit, he collected a\nquantity of it together, and, burying himself under the great heap,\nwaited for the Jackal to appear. But no sooner did the cunning little\nanimal see this great heap of wild figs all collected together than\nhe thought, \"That looks very like my friend the Alligator.\" And to\ndiscover if it were so or not, he called out: \"The juicy little wild\nfigs I love to eat always tumble down from the tree, and roll here and\nthere as the wind drives them; but this great heap of figs is quite\nstill; these cannot be good figs; I will not eat any of them.\" \"Ho,\nho!\" thought the Alligator, \"is that all? How suspicious this Jackal\nis! I will make the figs roll about a little, then, and when he sees\nthat, he will doubtless come and eat them.\"\n\nSo the great beast shook himself, and all the heap of little figs went\nroll, roll, roll--some a mile this way, some a mile that, farther than\nthey had ever rolled before or than the most blustering wind could\nhave driven them.\n\nSeeing this, the Jackal scampered away, saying: \"I am so much obliged\nto you, Alligator, for letting me know you are there, for indeed I\nshould hardly have guessed it. You were so buried under that heap of\nfigs.\" The Alligator, hearing this, was so angry that he ran after\nthe Jackal, but the latter ran very, very fast away, too quickly to be\ncaught.\n\nThen the Alligator said to himself: \"I will not allow that little\nwretch to make fun of me another time and then run away out of reach;\nI will show him that I can be more cunning than he fancies.\" And early\nthe next morning he crawled as fast as he could to the Jackal's den\n(which was a hole in the side of a hill) and crept into it, and hid\nhimself, waiting for the Jackal, who was out, to return home. But when\nthe Jackal got near the place, he looked about him and thought: \"Dear\nme! the ground looks as if some heavy creature had been walking over\nit, and here are great clods of earth knocked down from each side of\nthe door of my den, as if a very big animal had been trying to squeeze\nhimself through it. I certainly will not go inside until I know that\nall is safe there.\" So he called out: \"Little house, pretty house, my\nsweet little house, why do you not give an answer when I call? If\nI come, and all is safe and right, you always call out to me. Is\nanything wrong, that you do not speak?\"\n\nThen the Alligator, who was inside, thought, \"If that is the case I\nhad better call out, that he may fancy all is right in his house.\" And\nin as gentle a voice as he could, he said, \"Sweet little Jackal.\"\n\nAt hearing these words the Jackal felt quite frightened, and thought\nto himself: \"So the dreadful old Alligator is there. I must try to\nkill him if I can, for if I do not he will certainly catch and kill me\nsome day.\" He therefore answered: \"Thank you, my dear little house. I\nlike to hear your pretty voice. I am coming in in a minute, but first\nI must collect firewood to cook my dinner.\" And he ran as fast as he\ncould, and dragged all the dry branches and bits of stick he could\nfind close up to the mouth of the den. Meantime, the Alligator inside\nkept as quiet as a mouse, but he could not help laughing a little to\nhimself as he thought: \"So I have deceived this tiresome little Jackal\nat last. In a few minutes he will run in here, and then won't I snap\nhim up!\"\n\nWhen the Jackal had gathered together all the sticks he could find and\nput them round the mouth of his den, he set them on fire and pushed\nthem as far into it as possible. There was such a quantity of them\nthat they soon blazed up into a great fire, and the smoke and flames\nfilled the den and smothered the wicked old Alligator and burned him\nto death, while the little Jackal ran up and down outside dancing for\njoy and singing:\n\n\"How do you like my house, my friend? Is it nice and warm? Ding-dong!\nding-dong! The Alligator is dying! ding-dong, ding-dong! He\nwill trouble me no more. I have defeated my enemy! Ring-a-ting!\nding-a-ting! ding-ding-dong!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FARMER AND THE MONEY-LENDER\n\n\nThere was once a Farmer who suffered much at the hands of a\nMoney-lender. Good harvests or bad the Farmer was always poor, the\nMoney-lender rich. At the last, when he hadn't a farthing left, the\nFarmer went to the Money-lender's house and said, \"You can't squeeze\nwater from a stone, and, as you have nothing to get by me now, you\nmight tell me the secret of becoming rich.\"\n\n\"My friend,\" returned the Money-lender piously, \"riches come from\nRam--ask _him_.\"\n\n\"Thank you, I will!\" replied the simple Farmer; so he prepared three\ngirdle-cakes to last him on the journey, and set out to find Ram.\n\nFirst he met a Brahman, and to him he gave a cake, asking him to point\nout the road to Ram; but the Brahman only took the cake, and went on\nhis way without a word. Next the Farmer met a yogi, or devotee, and to\nhim he gave a cake, without receiving any help in return. At last\nhe came upon a poor man sitting under a tree, and finding out he was\nhungry the kindly Farmer gave him his last cake, and, sitting down to\nrest beside him, entered into conversation.\n\n\"And where are you going?\" asked the poor man, at length.\n\n\"Oh, I have a long journey before me, for I am going to find Ram!\"\nreplied the Farmer. \"I don't suppose you could tell me which way to\ngo?\"\n\n\"Perhaps I can,\" said the poor man, smiling, \"for _I_ am Ram! What do\nyou want of me?\"\n\nThen the Farmer told the whole story, and Ram, taking pity on him,\ngave him a conch-shell, and showed him how to blow it in a particular\nway, saying: \"Remember! whatever you wish for, you have only to blow\nthe conch that way, and your wish will be fulfilled. Only, have a care\nof that Money-lender, for even magic is not proof against his wiles!\"\n\nThe Farmer went back to his village rejoicing. In fact, the\nMoney-lender noticed his high spirits at once, and said to himself,\n\"Some good fortune must have befallen the stupid fellow, to make\nhim hold his head so jauntily.\" Therefore he went over to the simple\nFarmer's house, and congratulated him on his good fortune in such\ncunning words, pretending to have heard all about it, that before\nlong the Farmer found himself telling the whole story--all except the\nsecret of blowing the conch, for, with all his simplicity, the Farmer\nwas not quite such a fool as to tell that.\n\nNevertheless, the Money-lender determined to have the conch by hook\nor by crook, and, as he was villain enough not to stick at trifles, he\nwaited for a favorable opportunity and stole the conch.\n\nBut, after nearly bursting himself with blowing the conch in every\nconceivable way, he was obliged to give up the secret as a bad job.\nHowever, being determined to succeed, he went back to the Farmer, and\nsaid coolly: \"Look here! I've got your conch, but I can't use it; you\nhaven't got it, so it's clear you can't use it either. Business is at\na standstill unless we make a bargain. Now, I promise to give you\nback your conch, and never to interfere with your using it, on one\ncondition, which is this--whatever you get from it, I am to get\ndouble.\"\n\n\"Never!\" cried the Farmer; \"that would be the old business all over\nagain!\"\n\n\"Not at all!\" replied the wily Money-lender; \"you will have your share!\nNow, don't be a dog in the manger, for, if _you_ get all you want,\nwhat can it matter to you if _I_ am rich or poor?\"\n\nAt last, though it went sorely against the grain to be of any benefit\nto a Money-lender, the Farmer was forced to yield, and from that time,\nno matter what he gained by the power of the conch, the Money-lender\ngained double. And the knowledge that this was so, preyed upon the\nFarmer's mind day and night, so that he had no satisfaction out of\nanything.\n\nAt last there came a very dry season--so dry that the Farmer's crops\nwithered for want of rain. Then he blew his conch, and wished for a\nwell to water them, and lo! there was the well, _but the Money-lender\nhad two_!--two beautiful new wells! This was too much for any Farmer\nto stand; and our friend brooded over it, and brooded over it, till\nat last a bright idea came into his head. He seized the conch, blew it\nloudly, and cried out, \"Oh, Ram! I wish to be blind of one eye!\" And\nso he was, in a twinkling, but the Money-lender, of course, was blind\nof both, and in trying to steer his way between the two new wells he\nfell into one, and was drowned.\n\nNow, this true story shows that a Farmer once got the better of a\nMoney-lender--but only by losing one of his eyes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTIT FOR TAT\n\nADAPTED BY M. FRERE\n\n\nThere once lived a Camel and a Jackal who were great friends. One day\nthe Jackal said to the Camel, \"I know that there is a fine field of\nsugarcane on the other side of the river. If you will take me across,\nI'll show you the place. This plan will suit me as well as you. You\nwill enjoy eating the sugarcane, and I am sure to find many crabs'\nbones and bits of fish by the riverside, on which to make a good\ndinner.\"\n\nThe Camel consented, and swam across the river, taking the Jackal,\nwho could not swim, on his back. When they reached the other side, the\nCamel went to eating the sugarcane, and the Jackal ran up and down the\nriver bank, devouring all the crabs, bits of fish, and bones he could\nfind.\n\nBut being a much smaller animal, he had made an excellent meal before\nthe Camel had eaten more than two or three mouthfuls; and no sooner\nhad he finished his dinner than he ran round and round the sugarcane\nfield, yelping and howling with all his might.\n\nThe villagers heard him, and thought, \"There is a jackal among the\nsugarcanes; he will be scratching holes in the ground and spoiling the\nroots of the plants.\" And they all went down to the place to drive him\naway. But when they got there they found to their surprise not only a\nJackal, but a Camel who was eating the sugarcanes! This made them very\nangry, and they caught the poor Camel and drove him from the field and\nbeat him and beat him until he was nearly dead.\n\nWhen they had gone, the Jackal said to the Camel, \"We had better go\nhome.\" And the Camel said, \"Very well; then jump upon my back, as you\ndid before.\"\n\nSo the Jackal jumped upon the Camel's back, and the Camel began to\nrecross the river. When they had got well into the water, the Camel\nsaid: \"This is a pretty way in which you have treated me, friend\nJackal. No sooner had you finished your own dinner than you must go\nyelping about the place loud enough to arouse the whole village, and\nbring all the villagers down to beat me black and blue, and turn me\nout of the field before I had eaten two mouthfuls! What in the world\ndid you make such a noise for?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said the Jackal. \"It is a custom I have. I always like\nto sing a little after dinner.\"\n\nThe Camel waded on through the river. The water reached up to his\nknees--then above them--up, up, up, higher and higher, until he was\nobliged to swim. Then turning to the Jackal, he said, \"I feel very\nanxious to roll.\" \"Oh, pray don't; why do you wish to do so?\" asked\nthe Jackal. \"I don't know,\" answered the Camel. \"It is a custom I\nhave. I always like to have a little roll after dinner.\" So saying, he\nrolled over in the water, shaking the Jackal off as he did so. And the\nJackal was drowned, but the Camel swam safely ashore.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSINGH RAJAH AND THE CUNNING LITTLE JACKALS\n\nADAPTED BY M. FRERE\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a great jungle, there lived a great lion. He was\nrajah of all the country round, and every day he used to leave his\nden, in the deepest shadow of the rocks, and roar with a loud, angry\nvoice; and when he roared, the other animals in the jungle, who were\nall his subjects, got very much frightened and ran here and there; and\nSingh Rajah would pounce upon them and kill them, and gobble them up\nfor his dinner.\n\nThis went on for a long, long time until, at last, there were no\nliving creatures left in the jungle but two little jackals--a Rajah\nJackal and a Ranee Jackal--husband and wife.\n\nA very hard time of it the poor little jackals had, running this way\nand that to escape the terrible Singh Rajah; and every day the little\nRanee Jackal would say to her husband: \"I am afraid he will catch us\nto-day; do you hear how he is roaring? Oh, dear! oh, dear!\" And he\nwould answer her: \"Never fear; I will take care of you. Let us run on\na mile or two. Come; come quick, quick, quick!\" And they would both\nrun away as fast as they could.\n\nAfter some time spent in this way, they found, however, one fine day,\nthat the lion was so close upon them that they could not escape.\nThen the little Ranee Jackal said: \"Husband, husband, I feel much\nfrightened. The Singh Rajah is so angry he will certainly kill us\nat once. What can we do?\" But he answered: \"Cheer up; we can save\nourselves yet. Come, and I'll show you how we may manage it.\"\n\nSo what did these cunning little jackals do but they went to the great\nlion's den; and, when he saw them coming, he began to roar and shake\nhis mane, and he said: \"You little wretches, come and be eaten at\nonce! I have had no dinner for three whole days, and all that time I\nhave been running over hill and dale to find you. Ro-a-ar! Ro-a-ar!\nCome and be eaten, I say!\" and he lashed his tail and gnashed his\nteeth, and looked very terrible indeed. Then the Jackal Rajah,\ncreeping quite close up to him, said: \"Oh, great Singh Rajah, we all\nknow you are our master, and we would have come at your bidding long\nago; but, indeed, sir, there is a much bigger rajah even than you\nin this jungle, and he tried to catch hold of us and eat us up, and\nfrightened us so much that we were obliged to run away.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" growled Singh Rajah. \"There is no king in this\njungle but me!\" \"Ah, sire,\" answered the jackal, \"in truth one would\nthink so, for you are very dreadful. Your very voice is death. But it\nis as we say, for we, with our own eyes, have seen one with whom\nyou could not compete--whose equal you can no more be than we are\nyours--whose face is as flaming fire, his step as thunder, and his\npower supreme.\" \"It is impossible!\" interrupted the old lion; \"but\nshow me this rajah of whom you speak so much, that I may destroy him\ninstantly!\"\n\nThen the little jackals ran on before him until they reached a great\nwell, and, pointing down to his own reflection in the water, they\nsaid, \"See, sire, there lives the terrible king of whom we spoke.\"\nWhen Singh Rajah looked down the well he became very angry, for he\nthought he saw another lion there. He roared and shook his great mane,\nand the shadow lion shook his and looked terribly defiant. At last,\nbeside himself with rage at the violence of his opponent, Singh Rajah\nsprang down to kill him at once, but no other lion was there--only the\ntreacherous reflection--and the sides of the well were so steep that\nhe could not get out again to punish the two jackals, who peeped over\nthe top. After struggling for some time in the deep water, he sank to\nrise no more. And the little jackals threw stones down upon him from\nabove, and danced round and round the well, singing: \"Ao! Ao! Ao! Ao!\nThe king of the forest is dead, is dead! We have killed the great lion\nwho would have killed us! Ao! Ao! Ao! Ao! Ring-a-ting--ding-a-ting!\nRing-a-ting--ding-a-ting! Ao! Ao! Ao!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nAMERICAN INDIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WHITE STONE CANOE\n\nADAPTED BY H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT\n\n\nThere was once a very beautiful Indian maiden, who died suddenly on\nthe day she was to have been married to a handsome young warrior. He\nwas also brave, but his heart was not proof against this loss. From\nthe hour she was buried, there was no more joy or peace for him.\n\nHe went often to visit the spot where the women had buried her, and\nsat musing there, when, it was thought by some of his friends, he\nwould have done better to try to amuse himself in the chase, or by\ndiverting his thoughts in the warpath. But war and hunting had both\nlost their charms for him. His heart was already dead within him. He\npushed aside both his war-club and his bow and arrows.\n\nHe had heard the old people say, that there was a path that led to the\nland of souls, and he determined to follow it. He accordingly set out,\none morning, after having completed his preparations for the journey.\nAt first he hardly knew which way to go. He was only guided by the\ntradition that he must go south. For a while he could see no change in\nthe face of the country. Forests, and hills, and valleys, and streams\nhad the same looks which they wore in his native place.\n\nThere was snow on the ground when he set out, and it was sometimes\nseen to be piled and matted on the thick trees and bushes. At length\nit began to diminish, and finally disappeared. The forest assumed a\nmore cheerful appearance, the leaves put forth their buds, and before\nhe was aware of the completeness of the change, he found himself\nsurrounded by spring.\n\nHe had left behind him the land of snow and ice. The air became mild,\nthe dark clouds of winter had rolled away from the sky; a pure field\nof blue was above him, and as he went he saw flowers beside his path,\nand heard the songs of birds. By these signs he knew that he was going\nthe right way, for they agreed with the traditions of his tribe. At\nlength he spied a path. It led him through a grove, then up a long and\nelevated ridge, on the very top of which he came to a lodge. At the\ndoor stood an old man, with white hair, whose eyes, though deeply\nsunk, had a fiery brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown\nloosely around his shoulders, and a staff in his hands.\n\nThe young Chippewayan began to tell his story; but the venerable\nchief arrested him before he had proceeded to speak ten words. \"I have\nexpected you,\" he replied, \"and had just risen to bid you welcome\nto my abode. She whom you seek passed here but a few days since, and\nbeing fatigued with her journey, rested herself here. Enter my lodge\nand be seated, and I will then satisfy your inquiries, and give you\ndirections for your journey from this point.\" Having done this, they\nboth issued forth to the lodge door.\n\n\"You see yonder gulf,\" said he, \"and the wide-stretching blue plains\nbeyond. It is the land of souls. You stand upon its borders, and my\nlodge is the gate of entrance. But you can not take your body along.\nLeave it here with your bow and arrows, your bundle, and your dog.\nYou will find them safe on your return.\" So saying, he re-entered\nthe lodge, and the freed traveler bounded forward as if his feet had\nsuddenly been endowed with the power of wings.\n\nBut all things retained their natural colors and shapes. The woods and\nleaves, and streams and lakes, were only more bright and comely than\nhe had ever witnessed. Animals bounded across his path, with a freedom\nand a confidence which seemed to tell him there was no blood shed\nhere. Birds of beautiful plumage inhabited the groves, and sported\nin the waters. There was but one thing in which he saw a very unusual\neffect. He noticed that his passage was not stopped by trees or other\nobjects. He appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in\nfact, but the souls or shadows of material trees. He became sensible\nthat he was in a land of shadows.\n\nWhen he had traveled half a day's journey, through a country which was\ncontinually becoming more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad\nlake, in the center of which was a large and beautiful island. He\nfound a canoe of shining white stone, tied to the shore. He was now\nsure that he had taken the right path, for the aged man had told him\nthis. There were also shining paddles. He immediately entered the\ncanoe, and took the paddles in his hands, when, to his joy and\nsurprise, on turning round he beheld the object of his search in\nanother canoe, exactly its counterpart in everything. She had exactly\nimitated his motions, and they were side by side.\n\nThey at once pushed out from shore and began to cross the lake. Its\nwaves seemed to be rising, and at a distance looked ready to swallow\nthem up; but just as they entered the whitened edge of them they\nseemed to melt away, as if they were but the images of waves. But no\nsooner was one wreath of foam passed, than another, more threatening\nstill, arose.\n\nThus they were in perpetual fear; and what added to it, was the\n_clearness of the water_, through which they could see heaps of beings\nwho had perished before, and whose bones lay strewed on the bottom of\nthe lake. The Master of Life had, however, decreed to let them pass,\nfor the actions of neither of them had been bad. But they saw many\nothers struggling and sinking in the waves. Old and young of all ages\nand ranks, were there: some passed and some sank. It was only the\nlittle children whose canoes seemed to meet no waves.\n\nAt length every difficulty was gone, as in a moment, and they both\nleaped out on the happy island. They felt that the very air was food.\nIt strengthened and nourished them. They wandered together over the\nblissful fields, where every thing was formed to please the eye and\nthe ear. There were no tempests--there was no ice, no chilly winds--no\none shivered for the want of warm clothes: no one suffered hunger--no\none mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars.\nThere was no hunting of animals; for the air itself was their food.\nGladly would the young warrior have remained there forever, but he was\nobliged to go back for his body. He did not see the Master of Life,\nbut he heard his voice in a soft breeze.\n\n\"Go back,\" said this voice, \"to the land from whence you came. Your\ntime has not yet come. The duties for which I made you, and which\nyou are to perform, are not yet finished. Return to your people, and\naccomplish the duties of a good man. You will be the ruler of your\ntribe for many days. The rules you must observe will be told you by my\nmessenger, who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back your body, he\nwill tell you what to do. Listen to him and you shall afterward rejoin\nthe spirit, which you must now leave behind. She is accepted and will\nbe ever here, as young and as happy as she was when I first called her\nfrom the land of snows.\" When this voice ceased, the narrator awoke.\nIt was all the fabric of a dream, and he was still in the bitter land\nof snows, and hunger, and tears.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAIDEN WHO LOVED A FISH\n\n\nThere was once among the Marshpees, a small tribe who have their\nhunting-grounds on the shores of the Great Lake, near the Cape of\nStorms, a woman whose name was Awashanks. She was rather silly and\nvery idle. For days together she would sit doing nothing. Then she was\nso ugly and ill-shaped that not one of the youths of the village would\nhave aught to say to her by way of courtship or marriage. She squinted\nvery much; her face was long and thin, her nose excessively large and\nhumped, her teeth crooked and projecting, her chin almost as sharp\nas the bill of a loon, and her ears as large as those of a deer.\nAltogether she was a very odd and strangely formed woman, and wherever\nshe went she never failed to excite much laughter and derision among\nthose who thought that ugliness and deformity were fit subjects for\nridicule.\n\nThough so very ugly, there was one faculty she possessed in a more\nremarkable degree than any woman of the tribe. It was that of singing.\nNothing, unless such could be found in the land of spirits, could\nequal the sweetness of her voice or the beauty of her songs. Her\nfavorite place of resort was a small hill, a little removed from the\nriver of her people, and there, seated beneath the shady trees, she\nwould while away the hours of summer with her charming songs. So\nbeautiful and melodious were the things she uttered that, by the time\nshe had sung a single sentence, the branches above her head would be\nfilled with the birds that came thither to listen, the thickets around\nher would be crowded with beasts, and the waters rolling beside her\nwould be alive with fishes, all attracted by the sweet sounds. From\nthe minnow to the porpoise, from the wren to the eagle, from the snail\nto the lobster, from the mouse to the mole--all hastened to the spot\nto listen to the charming songs of the hideous Marshpee maiden.\n\nAmong the fishes which repaired every night to the vicinity of\nthe Little Hillock, which was the chosen resting-place of the ugly\nsongstress, was the great chief of the trouts, a tribe of fish\ninhabiting the river near by. The chief was of a far greater size than\nthe people of his nation usually are, being as long as a man and quite\nas broad.\n\nOf all the creatures which came to listen to the singing of Awashanks\nnone appeared to enjoy it so highly as the chief of the trouts. As\nhis bulk prevented him from approaching so near as he wished, he,\nfrom time to time, in his eagerness to enjoy the music to the best\nadvantage, ran his nose into the ground, and thus worked his way\na considerable distance into the land. Nightly he continued his\nexertions to approach the source of the delightful sounds he heard,\ntill at length he had plowed out a wide and handsome channel, and so\neffected his passage from the river to the hill, a distance extending\nan arrow's-flight. Thither he repaired every night at the commencement\nof darkness, sure to meet the maiden who had become so necessary to\nhis happiness. Soon he began to speak of the pleasure he enjoyed, and\nto fill the ears of Awashanks with fond protestations of his love and\naffection. Instead of singing to him, she now began to listen to his\nvoice. It was something so new and strange to her to hear the tones of\nlove and courtship, a thing so unusual to be told she was beautiful,\nthat it is not wonderful her head was turned by the new incident, and\nthat she began to think the voice of her lover the sweetest she had\never heard. One thing marred their happiness. This was that the trout\ncould not live upon land, nor the maiden in the water. This state of\nthings gave them much sorrow.\n\nThey had met one evening at the usual place, and were discoursing\ntogether, lamenting that two who loved each other so, should be doomed\nalways to live apart, when a man appeared close to Awashanks. He asked\nthe lovers why they seemed to be so sad.\n\nThe chief of the trouts told the stranger the cause of their sorrow.\n\n\"Be not grieved nor hopeless,\" said the stranger, when the chief\nhad finished. \"The impediments can be removed. I am the spirit who\npresides over fishes, and though I cannot make a man or woman of a\nfish, I can make them into fish. Under my power Awashanks shall become\na beautiful trout.\"\n\nWith that he bade the girl follow him into the river. When they had\nwaded in some little depth he took up some water in his hand and\npoured it on her head, muttering some words, of which none but himself\nknew the meaning. Immediately a change took place in her. Her body\ntook the form of a fish, and in a few moments she was a complete\ntrout. Having accomplished this transformation the spirit gave her\nto the chief of the trouts, and the pair glided off into the deep\nand quiet waters. She did not, however, forget the land of her birth.\nEvery season, on the same night as that upon which her disappearance\nfrom her tribe had been wrought, there were to be seen two trouts of\nenormous size playing in the water off the shore. They continued\ntheir visits till the palefaces came to the country, when, deeming\nthemselves to be in danger from a people who paid no reverence to the\nspirits of the land, they bade it adieu forever.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE STAR WIFE\n\n\nIn the days when the buffalo raced and thundered over the earth and\nthe stars danced and sang in the sky, a brave young hunter lived on\nthe bank of Battle River. He was fond of the red flowers and the blue\nsky; and when the rest of the Indians went out to hunt in waistcloths\nof skin he put on his fringed leggings all heavy with blue beads, and\npainted red rings and stripes on his face, till he was as gay as the\nearth and the sky himself. High-feather was his name, and he always\nwore a red swan's feather on his head.\n\nOne day, when High-feather was out with his bow and arrows, he came on\na little beaten trail that he had never seen before, and he followed\nit--but he found that it went round and round and brought him back to\nwhere he had started. It came from nowhere, and it went to nowhere.\n\n\"What sort of animal has made this?\" he said. And he lay down in the\nmiddle of the ring to think, looking up into the blue sky.\n\nWhile he lay thinking, he saw a little speck up above him in the sky,\nand thought it was an eagle. But the speck grew bigger, and sank down\nand down, till he saw it was a great basket coming down out of the\nsky. He jumped up and ran back to a little hollow and lay down to hide\nin a patch of tall red flowers. Then he peeped out and saw the basket\ncome down to the earth and rest on the grass in the middle of the\nring. Twelve beautiful maidens were leaning over the edge of the\nbasket. They were not Indian maidens, for their faces were pink and\nwhite, and their long hair was bright red-brown like a fox's fur, and\ntheir clothes were sky-blue and floating light as cobwebs.\n\nThe maidens jumped out of the basket and began to dance round and\nround the ring-trail, one behind the other, drumming with their\nfingers on little drums of eagle-skin, and singing such beautiful\nsongs as High-feather had never heard.\n\nThen High-feather jumped up and ran towards the ring, crying out, \"Let\nme dance and sing with you!\"\n\nThe maidens were frightened, and ran to the basket and jumped in,\nand the basket flew up into the sky, and grew smaller till at last he\ncould not see it at all.\n\nThe young man went home to his wigwam, and his mother roasted buffalo\nmeat for his dinner; but he could not eat, and he could not think of\nanything but the twelve beautiful maidens. His mother begged him to\ntell her what the matter was; and at last he told her, and said he\nwould never be happy till he brought one of the maidens home to be his\nwife.\n\n\"Those must be the Star-people,\" said his mother, who was a great\nmagician--the prairie was full of magic in those days, before the\nwhite man came and the buffalo went. \"You had better take an Indian\ngirl for your wife. Don't think any more of the Star-maidens, or you\nwill have much trouble.\"\n\n\"I care little how much trouble I have, so long as I get a Star-maiden\nfor my wife,\" he said; \"and I am going to get one, if I have to wait\ntill the world ends.\"\n\n\"If you must, you must,\" said his mother.\n\nSo next morning she sewed a bit of gopher's fur on to his feather;\nand he ate a good breakfast of buffalo meat and tramped away over\nthe prairie to the dancing ring. As soon as he came into the ring he\nturned into a gopher; but there were no gophers' holes there for him\nto hide in, so he had to lie in the grass and wait.\n\nPresently he saw a speck up in the sky, and the speck grew larger and\nlarger till it became a basket, and the basket came down and down till\nit rested on the earth in the middle of the ring.\n\nThe eldest maiden put her head over the edge and looked all around,\nnorth and east and south and west.\n\n\"There is no man here,\" she said. So they all jumped out to have their\ndance. But before they came to the beaten ring the youngest maiden\nspied the gopher, and called out to her sisters to look at it.\n\n\"Away! away!\" cried the eldest maiden. \"No gopher would dare to come\non our dancing ground. It is a conjuror in disguise!\"\n\nSo she took her youngest sister by the arm and pulled her away to the\nbasket, and they all jumped in and the basket went sailing up into\nthe sky before High-feather could get out of his gopher skin or say a\nword.\n\nThe young man went home very miserable; but when his mother heard what\nhad happened she said: \"It is a hard thing you want to do; but if you\nmust, you must. To-night I will make some fresh magic, and you can try\nagain to-morrow.\"\n\nNext morning High-feather asked for his breakfast; but his mother\nsaid, \"You must not have any buffalo meat, or it will spoil the magic.\nYou must not eat anything but the wild strawberries you find on the\nprairie as you go.\"\n\nThen she sewed a little bit of a mouse's whisker on to his red\nfeather; and he tramped away across the prairie, picking wild\nstrawberries and eating them as he went, till he came to the dancing\nring. As soon as he was inside the ring he turned into a little mouse,\nand made friends with the family of mice that lived in a hole under\nthe grass; and the mother mouse promised to help him all she could.\n\nThey had not waited long when the basket came dropping down out of\nthe sky. The eldest sister put her head over the edge, and looked all\naround, north and west and south and east and down on the ground.\n\n\"There is no man here,\" she said, \"and I do not see any gopher; but\nyou must be very careful.\"\n\nSo they all got out of the basket, and began to dance round the ring,\ndrumming and singing as they went. But when they came near the mouse's\nnest the eldest sister held up her hand, and they stopped dancing and\nheld their breath. Then she tapped on the ground and listened.\n\n\"It does not sound so hollow as it did,\" she said, \"The mice have a\nvisitor.\"\n\nAnd she tapped again, and called out, \"Come and show yourselves, you\nlittle traitors, or we will dig you up!\"\n\nBut the mother mouse had made another door to her nest, just outside\nthe ring, working very fast with all her toes; and while the maidens\nwere looking for her inside the ring she came out at the other door\nwith all her children and scampered away across the prairie.\n\nThe maidens turned round and ran after them; all but the youngest\nsister, who did not want any one to be killed; and High-feather came\nout of the hole and turned himself into what he was, and caught her by\nthe arm.\n\n\"Come home and marry me,\" he said, \"and dance with the Indian maidens;\nand I will hunt for you, and my mother will cook for you, and you will\nbe much happier than up in the sky.\"\n\nHer sisters came rushing round her, and begged her to go back home to\nthe sky with them; but she looked into the young man's eyes, and said\nshe would go with him wherever he went. So the other maidens went\nweeping and wailing up into the sky, and High-feather took his\nStar-wife home to his tent on the bank of the Battle River.\n\nHigh-feather's mother was glad to see them both; but she whispered in\nhis ear: \"You must never let her out of your sight if you want to keep\nher; you must take her with you everywhere you go.\"\n\nAnd he did so. He took her with him every time he went hunting, and\nhe made her a bow and arrows, but she would never use them; she would\npick wild strawberries and gooseberries and raspberries as they went\nalong, but she would never kill anything; and she would never eat\nanything that any one else had killed. She only ate berries and\ncrushed corn.\n\nOne day, while the young man's wife was embroidering feather stars on\na dancing-cloth, and his mother was gossiping in a tent at the end\nof the village, a little yellow bird flew in and perched on\nHigh-feather's shoulder, and whispered in his ear:\n\n\"There is a great flock of wild red swans just over on Loon Lake. If\nyou come quickly and quietly you can catch them before they fly away;\nbut do not tell your wife, for red swans cannot bear the sight of a\nwoman, and they can tell if one comes within a mile of them.\"\n\nHigh-feather had never seen or heard of a red swan before; all the red\nfeathers he wore he had had to paint. He looked at his wife, and as\nshe was sewing busily and looking down at her star embroidering he\nthought he could slip away and get back before she knew he had gone.\nBut as soon as he was out of sight the little yellow bird flew in and\nperched on her shoulder, and sang her such a beautiful song about her\nsisters in the sky that she forgot everything else and slipped out\nand ran like the wind, and got to the dancing ring just as her sisters\ncame down in their basket. Then they all gathered round her, and\nbegged her to go home with them.\n\nBut she only said, \"High-feather is a brave man, and he is very good\nto me, and I will never leave him.\"\n\nWhen they saw they could not make her leave her husband, the eldest\nsister said: \"If you must stay, you must. But just come up for an\nhour, to let your father see you, because he has been mourning for you\never since you went away.\"\n\nThe Star-wife did not wish to go, but she wanted to see her father\nonce more, so she got into the basket and it sailed away up into the\nsky. Her father was very glad to see her, and she was very glad to\nsee him, and they talked and they talked till the blue sky was getting\ngray. Then she remembered that she ought to have gone home long\nbefore.\n\n\"Now I must go back to my husband,\" she said.\n\n\"That you shall never do!\" said her father.\n\nAnd he shut her up in a white cloud and said she should stay there\ntill she promised never to go back to the prairie. She begged to be\nlet out, but it was no use.\n\nThen she began to weep; and she wept so much that the cloud began to\nweep too, and it was weeping itself quite away. So her father saw she\nwould go down to the earth in rain if he kept her in the cloud any\nlonger, and he let her out.\n\n\"What must I do for you,\" he said, \"to make you stay with us here and\nbe happy?\"\n\n\"I will not stay here,\" she said, \"unless my husband comes and lives\nhere too.\"\n\n\"I will send for him at once,\" said her father. So he sent the basket\ndown empty, and it rested in the middle of the dancing ring.\n\nNow when High-feather reached Loon Lake he found it covered with red\nswans. He shot two with one arrow, and then all the rest flew away.\nHe picked up the two swans and hurried back to his tent, and there lay\nthe dancing-cloth with the feather stars on it half finished, but no\nwife could he see. He called her, but she did not answer. He rushed\nout, with the two red swans still slung round his neck and hanging\ndown his back, and ran to the dancing ring, but nobody was there.\n\n\"I will wait till she comes back,\" he said to himself, \"if I have to\nwait till the world ends.\" So he threw himself down on the grass and\nlay looking up at the stars till he went to sleep.\n\nEarly in the morning he heard a rustling on the grass, and when he\nopened his eyes he saw the great basket close beside him. He jumped\nup, with the two red swans still slung round his neck, and climbed\ninto the basket. There was nobody there; and when he began to climb\nout again he found that the basket was half way up to the sky. It went\nup and up, and at last it came into the Star-country, where his wife\nwas waiting for him. Her father gave them a beautiful blue tent to\nlive in, and High-feather was happy enough for a while; but he soon\ngrew tired of the cloud-berries that the Star-people ate, and he\nlonged to tramp over the solid green prairie, so he asked his wife's\nfather to let him take her back to the earth.\n\n\"No,\" said the Star-man, \"because then I should never see her again.\nIf you stay with us you will soon forget the dull old earth.\"\n\nThe young man said nothing; but he put on the wings of one of the red\nswans, and he put the other red swan's wings on his wife, and they\nleapt over the edge of the Star-country and flew down through the air\nto the prairie, and came to the tent where High-feather's mother was\nmourning for them; and there was a great feast in the village because\nthey had come back safe and sound. The Star-wife finished embroidering\nher dancing-cloth that day; and whenever the Indians danced she danced\nwith them. She never went back to the Star-maidens' dancing ring;\nbut she still lived on berries and corn, because she would never kill\nanything,--except one thing, and that was the little yellow bird. It\nflew into the tent one day when High-feather had his back turned,\nand began to whisper into the Star-wife's ear; but it never came to\ntrouble her again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nARABIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF CALIPH STORK\n\n\nCaliph Charid, of Bagdad, was reclining on his divan one pleasant\nafternoon, smoking his long pipe and sipping coffee from a handsome\ndish which a slave was holding for him, when his Grand Vizier, Mansor,\nentered and told him of a peddler in the court below whose wares might\ninterest him. The Caliph, being in an affable state of mind, summoned\nthe peddler, who, delighted with the opportunity, displayed all the\ntreasures of his pack. There were pearls, rings, silks, and many other\nrich things. The Caliph selected something for himself, a handsome\npresent for the Vizier, and another for the Vizier's wife.\n\nJust as the peddler was putting the things back into his box, the\nCaliph noticed a small drawer and asked what it contained.\n\n\"Only something of no value, which I picked up in a street of Mecca,\"\nthe peddler replied. He thereupon opened the drawer and showed the\nCaliph a small box, containing a black powder and a scroll written in\ncharacters which neither the Caliph nor his Grand Vizier could make\nout. The Caliph immediately decided that he wanted this strange\nscroll, and the peddler was persuaded to part with it for a trifle.\nThen the Vizier was asked to find some one to decipher its meaning.\n\nNear the mosque lived a man called Selim, who was so learned that\nhe knew every language in the world. When the Vizier brought him to\ninterpret the scroll, the Caliph said to him:\n\n\"They tell me that you are a scholar and can read all languages. If\nyou can decipher what is written here, I shall know that it is true,\nand will give you a robe of honor; but if you fail, I shall have you\npunished with many strokes, because you are falsely named.\"\n\nSelim prostrated himself at the feet of the Caliph, and then took the\nscroll. He had not looked at it long when he exclaimed:\n\n\"My lord and master, I hope to die if this is not Latin.\"\n\n\"Well, if so, let us hear what it says,\" the Caliph impatiently\nanswered. Selim at once began:\n\n\"Let him who finds this box praise Allah. If he snuffs the powder it\ncontains, at the same time pronouncing the word 'Matabor,' he will be\ntransformed into any creature that he desires, and will understand the\nlanguage of all animals. When he wishes to return to his own form,\nlet him bow to the east three times, repeating the word 'Matabor.'\nBut remember if, while he is bird or beast, he should laugh, the magic\nword would be forgotten, and the enchantment would be on him forever.\"\n\nThe Caliph was delighted with the knowledge of Selim. He made him\na splendid present, and told him to keep the secret. When he had\ndismissed the learned man, he turned to the Grand Vizier, and\nexpressed a wish to try the powder.\n\n\"Come to-morrow morning early,\" said he, \"and we will go together to\nthe country and learn what the animals are talking about.\"\n\nThe Vizier came as he was ordered, and they left the palace without\nattendants. Beyond the town was a large pond where some handsome\nstorks were often seen, and to this place they presently came. A grave\nand stately stork was hunting for frogs, while another flew about and\nkept him company.\n\n\"Most gracious lord,\" said the Vizier, \"what think you of these\ndignified long legs, and how would you like to know their chatter?\"\n\nThe Caliph replied that the stork had always interested him, and he\nwould very much like a more intimate acquaintance. Taking the box from\nhis girdle, he helped himself to a pinch of snuff and offered it to\nthe Vizier, who followed his example.\n\nTogether they cried \"Matabor,\" and instantly their beards disappeared,\nand feathers covered their bodies; their necks stretched out long and\nslender, and their legs shriveled into red and shapeless sticks. The\nCaliph lifted up his foot to stroke his beard in astonishment, but\nfound a long bill in its place.\n\n\"By the beard of the Prophet, since I have not one of my own to swear\nby, but we are a pretty pair of birds, Mansor!\"\n\n\"If I may say so, your Highness, you are equally handsome as a\nstork as when you were a Caliph,\" replied the Vizier. \"I see our two\nrelations are conversing over there; shall we join them?\"\n\nWhen they came near to where the storks were smoothing their\nfeathers and touching bills in the most friendly manner, this was the\nconversation they overheard, \"Will you have some of my frog's legs for\nbreakfast, Dame Yellowlegs?\" \"No, thank you; I am obliged to practise\na dance for my father's guests, and cannot eat.\" Thereupon Dame\nYellowlegs stepped out, and began to pose most gracefully. The Caliph\nand the Vizier watched her, until she stood on one foot and spread\nher wings; then they both, at the same time, burst into such peals of\nlaughter that the two storks flew away.\n\nSuddenly, however, the Vizier ceased his mirth, and commenced bowing\nto the east. The Caliph recovered himself and did the same, but\nneither could think of the magic word.\n\n\"Mansor, just recall that unholy word, and I will become Caliph once\nmore, and you my Grand Vizier. I have had enough of being a bird for\none day.\"\n\n\"Most gracious lord, that dancing stork has undone us, for, since\nlaughing at her antics, I cannot remember the word that will restore\nus to human shape.\"\n\nSo at last, in despair, the two unhappy birds wandered through the\nmeadows. They appeased their hunger with fruits, for they could not\nbring themselves to eat frogs and lizards. As they dared not return to\nBagdad and tell the people their chagrin, they flew over the city, and\nhad the satisfaction of seeing signs of mourning and confusion. In a\nfew days, however, while sitting on the roof of a house, they saw a\nsplendid procession coming up the street, and the people welcoming the\nnew ruler. \"Hail! Hail Mirza, ruler of Bagdad!\" they shouted.\n\nThe procession came nearer. At the head of it the Caliph saw a man\ndressed in scarlet and gold, riding a handsome horse. He at once\nrecognized the new ruler as the son of his worst enemy.\n\n\"Behold,\" said he, \"the explanation of our enchantment! This is\nthe son of Kaschnur, the magician, who is my great enemy, who seeks\nrevenge. Let us not lose hope, but fly to the sacred grave of the\nProphet and pray to be released from the spell.\"\n\nThey at once spread their wings and soared away toward Medina, but not\nbeing accustomed to such long flights, they soon became fatigued and\ndescended to a ruin which stood in a valley below. The two enchanted\nbirds decided to remain there for the night; then wandered through\nthe deserted rooms and corridors, which gave of evidence of former\nsplendor. Suddenly the Vizier stopped and remarked that if it were not\nridiculous for a stork to be afraid of ghosts, he would feel decidedly\nnervous. The Caliph listened, and heard a low moaning and sobbing,\nwhich seemed to come from a room down the passage. He started to rush\ntoward it, but the Vizier held him fast by a wing. He had retained the\nbrave heart that he had possessed when a Caliph, however, and freeing\nhimself from the Vizier's bill, he hurried to the room whence came the\npitiful sounds. The moon shone through a barred window and showed him\na screech owl sitting on the floor of the ruined chamber, lamenting in\na hoarse voice. The Vizier had cautiously stolen up beside the Caliph;\nand at sight of the two storks, the screech owl uttered a cry of\npleasure. To their astonishment it addressed them in Arabic, in the\nfollowing words:\n\n\"I have abandoned myself to despair, but I believe my deliverance is\nnear, for it was prophesied in my youth that a stork would bring me\ngood fortune.\"\n\nThe Caliph, thus appealed to, arched his neck most gracefully and\nreplied:\n\n\"Alas! Screech Owl, I fear we are unable to aid you, as you will\nunderstand when you have heard our miserable story.\"\n\nHe then related how the magician, Kaschnur, had changed them into\nstorks and made his own son ruler of Bagdad. The screech owl became\nvery much excited and exclaimed:\n\n\"How strange that misfortune should have come to us through the\nsame man. I am Tusa, the daughter of the King of the Indies. The\nmagician, Kaschnur, came one day to my father, to ask my hand in\nmarriage for his son Mirza. My father ordered him thrown down\nstairs, and in revenge he managed to have me given a powder which\nchanged me into this hideous shape. He then conveyed me to this\nlonely castle, and swore I should remain here until some one asked\nme to be his wife, and so freed me from the enchantment.\"\n\nAt the conclusion of her story, the screech owl wept anew and would\nnot be consoled. Suddenly, however, she wiped her eyes on her wing and\nsaid:\n\n\"I have an idea that may lead to our deliverance. Once every month the\nmagician, Kaschnur, and his companions meet in a large hall at this\ncastle, where they feast and relate their evil deeds. We will listen\noutside the door, and perhaps you may hear the forgotten word. Then,\nwhen you have resumed human form, one of you can ask to marry me, that\nI too may be freed from this wretched enchantment; and the prophecy\nthat a stork would bring me happiness would be fulfilled.\"\n\nThe Caliph and the Vizier withdrew and consulted over the situation.\n\"It is unfortunate,\" said the Caliph, \"but if we are to meet again, I\nthink you will have to ask the screech owl to marry you.\"\n\n\"Not so, your Highness, I already have a wife, and would rather remain\na stork forever than take another; besides, I am an old man, while\nyou are young and unmarried, and much better suited to a beautiful\nPrincess.\"\n\n\"That is it,\" said the Caliph. \"How do I know that she will not prove\nto be some old fright?\" As the Vizier was firm, the Caliph at last\nsaid he would take the chances and do as the screech owl required.\n\nThat very night it so happened that the magicians met at the ruined\ncastle. The screech owl led the two storks through difficult passages\ntill they came to a hole in the wall, through which they could plainly\nsee all that transpired in the lighted hall. Handsomely carved pillars\nadorned the room, and a table was spread with many dishes. About the\ntable sat eight men, among whom was their enemy, the magician. He\nentertained the company with many stories, and at last came to his\nlatest--that of turning the Caliph and Vizier into storks--in relating\nwhich he pronounced the magic word. The storks did not wait to hear\nmore, but ran to the door of the castle. The screech owl followed as\nfast as she could, and when the Caliph saw her he exclaimed:\n\n\"To prove my gratitude, O our deliverer! I beg you to take me for your\nhusband.\"\n\nThen the two storks faced the rising sun, and bowed their long necks\nthree times. \"Matabor!\" they solemnly cried, together; and in an\ninstant they were no longer storks, but stood before each other in\ntheir natural forms. In their joy they fell on each other's necks\nand forgot all about the screech owl, until they heard a sweet voice\nbeside them, and turning beheld a beautiful Princess. When the Caliph\nrecovered from his astonishment he said that he was now, indeed,\nenchanted and hoped to remain so always.\n\nThey then started at once for the gate of Bagdad; and when they\narrived, the people were overjoyed, for they had believed their ruler\ndead. The magician was taken to the ruined castle and hanged, and his\nson was given the choice of the black powder or death. Choosing\nthe powder, he was changed into a stork, and was kept in the palace\ngardens.\n\nCaliph Charid and the Princess were married; and when their children\ngrew old enough, the Caliph often amused them with imitations of\nthe Grand Vizier when he was a stork,--while Mansor sat smiling and\npulling his long beard.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nPERSEVERE AND PROSPER\n\nADAPTED BY A. R. MONTALBA\n\n\n\"He that seeketh, shall find, and to him that knocketh shall be\nopened,\" says an old Arab proverb.\n\n\"I will try that,\" said a youth one day. To carry out his intention he\njourneyed to Bagdad, where he presented himself before the Vizier.\n\n\"Lord!\" said he, \"for many years I have lived a quiet and solitary\nlife, the monotony of which wearies me. I have never permitted myself\nearnestly to will any thing. But as my teacher daily repeated to\nme, 'He that seeketh shall find, and to him that knocketh shall be\nopened,' so have I now come to the resolution with might and heart to\nwill, and the resolution of my will is nothing less than to have the\nCaliph's daughter for my wife.\"\n\nThe Vizier thought the poor man was mad, and told him to call again\nsome other time.\n\nPerseveringly he daily returned, and never felt disconcerted at the\nsame often repeated answer. One day, the Caliph called on the Vizier,\nas the youth was repeating his statement.\n\nFull of astonishment the Caliph listened to the strange demand, and\nbeing in no humor for having the poor youth's head taken off, but on\nthe contrary, being rather inclined for pleasantry, his Mightiness\ncondescendingly said: \"For the great, the wise, or the brave, to\nrequest a Princess for wife, is a moderate demand; but what are\nyour claims? To be the possessor of my daughter you must distinguish\nyourself by one of these attributes, or else by some great\nundertaking. Ages ago a carbuncle of inestimable value was lost in the\nTigris; he who finds it shall have the hand of my daughter.\"\n\nThe youth, satisfied with the promise of the Caliph, went to the\nshores of the Tigris. With a small vessel he went every morning to the\nriver, scooping out the water and throwing it on the land; and after\nhaving for hours thus employed himself, he knelt down and prayed. The\nfishes became at last uneasy at his perseverance; and being fearful\nthat, in the course of time, he might exhaust the waters, they\nassembled in great council.\n\n\"What is the purpose of this man?\" demanded the monarch of the\nfishes.\n\n\"The possession of the carbuncle that lies buried in the bottom of the\nTigris,\" was the reply.\n\n\"I advise you, then,\" said the aged monarch, \"to give it up to him;\nfor if he has the steady will, and has positively resolved to find\nit, he will work until he has drained the last drop of water from the\nTigris, rather than deviate a hair's breadth from his purpose.\"\n\nThe fishes, out of fear, threw the carbuncle into the vessel of the\nyouth; and the latter, as a reward, received the daughter of the\nCaliph for his wife.\"\n\n\"He who earnestly wills, can do much!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nCHINESE STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOST FRUGAL OF MEN\n\n\nA man who was considered the most frugal of all the dwellers in a\ncertain kingdom heard of another man who was the most frugal in the\nwhole world. He said to his son thereupon: \"We, indeed, live upon\nlittle, but if we were more frugal still, we might live upon nothing\nat all. It will be well worth while for us to get instructions in\neconomy from the Most Frugal of Men.\" The son agreed, and the two\ndecided that the son should go and inquire whether the master in\neconomic science would take pupils. An exchange of presents being a\nnecessary preliminary to closer intercourse, the father told the son\nto take the smallest of coins, one farthing, and to buy a sheet of\npaper of the cheapest sort. The boy, by bargaining, got two sheets of\npaper for the farthing. The father put away one sheet, cut the other\nsheet in halves, and on one half drew a picture of a pig's head. This\nhe put into a large covered basket, as if it were the thing which it\nrepresented--the usual gift sent in token of great respect. The son\ntook the basket, and after a long journey reached the abode of the\nmost frugal man in the world.\n\nThe master of the house was absent, but his son received the traveler,\nlearned his errand, and accepted the offering. Having taken from\nthe basket the picture of the pig's head, he said courteously to his\nvisitor: \"I am sorry that we have nothing in the house that is worthy\nto take the place of the pig's head in your basket. I will, however,\nsignify our friendly reception of it by putting in four oranges for\nyou to take home with you.\"\n\nThereupon the young man, without having any oranges at hand, made the\nmotions necessary for putting the fruit into the basket. The son of\nthe most frugal man in the kingdom then took the basket and went to\nhis father to tell of thrift surpassing his own.\n\nWhen the most frugal man in the world returned home, his son told him\nthat a visitor had been there, having come from a great distance to\ntake lessons in economy. The father inquired what offering he brought\nas an introduction, and the son showed the small outline of the pig's\nhead on thin brown paper. The father looked at it, and then asked\nhis son what he had sent as a return present. The son told him he had\nmerely made the motions necessary for transferring four oranges, and\nshowed how he had clasped the imaginary fruit and deposited it in the\nvisitor's basket. The father immediately flew into a terrible rage and\nboxed the boy's ears, exclaiming: \"You extravagant wretch! With your\nfingers thus far apart you appeared to give him large oranges. Why\ndidn't you measure out small ones?\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOON-CAKE\n\n\nA little boy had a cake that a big boy coveted. Designing to get\nthe cake without making the little boy cry so loud as to attract\nhis mother's attention, the big boy remarked that the cake would be\nprettier if it were more like the moon. The little boy thought that a\ncake like the moon must be desirable, and on being assured by the\nbig boy that he had made many such, he handed over his cake for\nmanipulation. The big boy took out a mouthful, leaving a crescent with\njagged edge. The little boy was not pleased by the change, and began\nto whimper; whereupon the big boy pacified him by saying that he would\nmake the cake into a half-moon. So he nibbled off the horns of the\ncrescent, and gnawed the edge smooth; but when the half-moon was made,\nthe little boy perceived that there was hardly any cake left, and he\nagain began to snivel. The big boy again diverted him by telling him\nthat, if he did not like so small a moon, he should have one that was\njust the size of the real orb. He then took the cake, and explained\nthat, just before the new moon is seen, the old moon disappears. Then\nhe swallowed the rest of the cake and ran off, leaving the little boy\nwaiting for the new moon.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE LADLE THAT FELL FROM THE MOON\n\n\nOnce there was an old woman who lived on what she got by wile from her\nrelatives and neighbors. Her husband's brother lived alone with his\nonly son, in a house near hers, and when the son brought home a wife\nthe old woman went to call on the bride. During the call she inquired\nof the bride whether she had not, since her arrival in the house,\nheard a scratching at night among the boxes containing her wedding\noutfit. The bride said she had not. A few days later the old woman\ncame again, and during the visit the bride remarked that, before the\nmatter was mentioned, she had heard no scratching among her boxes, but\nthat since that time she had listened for it, and had heard it every\nnight. The old woman advised her to look carefully after her clothing,\nsaying that there were evidently many mice in the house, and that she\nwould be likely at any time to find her best garments nibbled into\nshreds. The old woman knew there was no cat in the house, but she\ninquired whether there was one, and on hearing that there was not, she\noffered to lend the young woman her own black-and-white cat, saying\nthat it would soon extirpate all the mice. The bride accepted the\nloan, and the old woman brought the cat, and left it in the bride's\napartment. After a few hours the cat disappeared, and the bride,\nsupposing it to have gone home, made no search for it. It did, indeed,\ngo home, and the old woman secretly disposed of it; but several days\nlater she came to the young woman and said that, when she lent the\ncat, her house had been free from mice, but that, as soon as the cat\nwas gone, the mice came and multiplied so fast that now everything was\noverrun by them, and she would be obliged to take the cat home again.\nThe young woman told her that the cat went away the same day that it\ncame, and she had supposed it had gone home. The old woman said it had\nnot, and that nothing could compensate her for the loss of it, for she\nhad reared it herself; that there was never before seen such a cat for\ncatching mice; that a cat, spotted as that one was, was seldom found;\nand that it was of the rare breed which gave rise to the common\nsaying:\n\n \"A coal-black cat, with snowy loins,\n Is worth its weight in silver coins.\"\n\nand that the weight of her cat was two hundred ounces.\n\nThe young woman was greatly surprised by this estimate of the value of\nthe lost cat, and went to her father-in-law and related all that had\noccurred. The father-in-law, knowing the character of the old woman,\ncould neither eat nor sleep, so harassed was he by the expectation\nthat she would worry his daughter-in-law till the two hundred ounces\nof silver should be paid. The young woman, being a new-comer, thought\nbut lightly of the matter, till the old woman came again and again to\nmake mention of the cat. When it became apparent that she must defend\nherself, the young woman asked her father-in-law if he had ever lent\nanything to the old woman; and when he said he could not remember\nhaving lent anything, she begged him to think carefully, and see if\nhe could not recall the loan of a tool, a dish, or a fagot. He finally\nrecollected that he had lent to her an old wooden ladle, but he said\nit originally cost but a few farthings, and was certainly not worth\nspeaking about.\n\nThe next time the old woman came to dun for the amount due for her\ncat, the young woman asked her to return the borrowed ladle. The old\nwoman said that the ladle was old and valueless; that she had allowed\nthe children to play with it, and that they had dropped it in the\ndirt, where it had lain until she had picked it up and used it for\nkindlings. The bride responded: \"You expect to enrich yourself and\nyour family by means of your cat. I and my family also want money.\nSince you cannot give back the ladle, we will both go before the\nmagistrate and present our cases. If your cat is adjudged to be worth\nmore than my ladle I will pay you the excess; and if my ladle be worth\nmore than your cat, then you must pay me.\" Being sure that the cat\nwould, by any judge, be considered of greater value than the ladle,\nthe old woman agreed to the proposition, and the two went before the\nmagistrate. The young woman courteously gave precedence to the elder,\nand allowed her to make the accusation. The old woman set forth her\ncase, and claimed two hundred ounces of silver as a compensation for\nthe loss of the cat. When she had concluded her statement, the judge\ncalled on the young woman for her defense. She said she could not\ndisprove the statement, but that the claim was offset by a ladle that\nhad been borrowed by the plaintiff. There was a common saying:\n\n \"In the moon overhead, at its full, you can see\n The trunk, branch and leaf of a cinnamon tree.\"\n\nA branch from this tree had one night been blown down before her\nfather-in-law's door, and he had had a ladle made from the wood.\nWhatever the ladle was put into never diminished by use. Whether wine,\noil, rice, or money, the bulk remained the same if no ladle beside\nthis one were used in dipping it. A foreign inn-keeper, hearing of\nthis ladle, came and offered her father-in-law three thousand ounces\nof silver for it, but the offer was refused. And this ladle was the\none that the plaintiff had borrowed and destroyed.\n\nThe magistrate, on hearing this defense, understood that the cat had\nbeen a pretext for extortion, and decided that the two claims offset\neach other, so that no payment was due from either one.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG HEAD OF THE FAMILY\n\n\nThere was once a family consisting of a father, his three sons, and\nhis two daughters-in-law. The two daughters-in-law, wives of the two\nelder sons, had but recently been brought into the house, and were\nboth from one village a few miles away. Having no mother-in-law\nliving, they were obliged to appeal to their father-in-law whenever\nthey wished to visit their former homes, and as they were lonesome\nand homesick they perpetually bothered the old man by asking leave of\nabsence.\n\nVexed by these constant petitions, he set himself to invent a method\nof putting an end to them, and at last gave them leave in this wise:\n\"You are always begging me to allow you to go and visit your mothers,\nand thinking that I am very hard-hearted because I do not let you go.\nNow you may go, but only upon condition that when you come back you\nwill each bring me something I want. The one shall bring me some\nfire wrapped in paper, and the other some wind in a paper. Unless you\npromise to bring me these, you are never to ask me to let you go home;\nand if you go, and fail to get these for me, you are never to come\nback.\"\n\nThe old man did not suppose that these conditions would be accepted,\nbut the girls were young and thoughtless, and in their anxiety to\nget away did not consider the impossibility of obtaining the articles\nrequired. So they made ready with speed, and in great glee started off\non foot to visit their mothers. After they had walked a long distance,\nchatting about what they should do and whom they should see in their\nnative village, the high heel of one of them slipped from under her\nfoot, and she fell down. Owing to this mishap both stopped to adjust\nthe misplaced footgear, and while doing this the conditions under\nwhich alone they could return to their husbands came to mind, and they\nbegan to cry.\n\nWhile they sat there crying by the roadside a young girl came riding\nalong from the fields on a water buffalo. She stopped and asked them\nwhat was the matter, and whether she could help them. They told her\nshe could do them no good; but she persisted in offering her sympathy\nand inviting their confidence, till they told their story, and then\nshe at once said that if they would go home with her she would show\nthem a way out or their trouble. Their case seemed so hopeless to\nthemselves, and the child was so sure of her own power to help them,\nthat they finally accompanied her to her father's house, where she\nshowed them how to comply with their father-in-law's demand.\n\nFor the first a paper lantern only would be needed. When lighted it\nwould be a fire, and its paper surface would compass the blaze, so\nthat it would truly be \"some fire wrapped in paper.\" For the second a\npaper fan would suffice. When flapped, wind would issue from it, and\nthe \"wind wrapped in paper\" could thus be carried to the old man.\n\nThe two young women thanked the wise child, and went on their way\nrejoicing. After a pleasant visit to their old homes, they took a\nlantern and a fan, and returned to their father-in-law's house. As\nsoon as he saw them he began to vent his anger at their light regard\nfor his commands, but they assured him that they had perfectly\nobeyed him, and showed him that what they had brought fulfilled the\nconditions prescribed. Much astonished, he inquired how it was that\nthey had suddenly become so astute, and they told him the story of\ntheir journey, and of the little girl who had so opportunely come\nto their relief. He inquired whether the little girl was already\nbetrothed, and, finding that she was not, engaged a go-between to see\nif he could get her for a wife for his youngest son.\n\nHaving succeeded in securing the girl as a daughter-in-law, he brought\nher home, and told all the rest of the family that as there was\nno mother in the house, and as this girl had shown herself to be\npossessed of extraordinary wisdom, she should be the head of the\nhousehold.\n\nThe wedding festivities being over, the sons of the old man made ready\nto return to their usual occupations on the farm; but, according to\ntheir father's order, they came to the young bride for instructions.\nShe told them that they were never to go to or from the fields\nempty-handed. When they went they must carry fertilizers of some sort\nfor the land, and when they returned they must bring bundles of sticks\nfor fuel. They obeyed, and soon had the land in fine condition, and so\nmuch fuel gathered that none need be bought. When there were no\nmore sticks, roots, or weeds to bring; she told them to bring stones\ninstead; and they soon accumulated an immense pile of stones, which\nwere heaped in a yard near their house.\n\nOne day an expert in the discovery of precious stones came along,\nand saw in this pile a block of jade of great value. In order to get\npossession of this stone at a small cost, he undertook to buy the\nwhole heap, pretending that he wished to use it in building. The\nlittle head of the family asked an exorbitant price for them, and, as\nhe could not induce her to take less, he promised to pay her the sum\nshe asked, and to come two days later to bring the money and to remove\nthe stones. That night the girl thought about the reason for the\nbuyer's being willing to pay so large a sum for the stones, and\nconcluded that the heap must contain a gem. The next morning she sent\nher father-in-law to invite the buyer to supper, and she instructed\nthe men of her family in regard to his entertainment. The best of wine\nwas to be provided, and the father-in-law was to induce him to talk of\nprecious stones, and to cajole him into telling in what way they were\nto be distinguished from other stones.\n\nThe head of the family, listening behind a curtain, heard how the\nvaluable stone in her heap could be discovered. She hastened to find\nand remove it from the pile; and, when her guest had recovered from\nthe effect of the banquet, he saw that the value had departed from\nhis purchase. He went to negotiate again with the seller, and she\nconducted the conference with such skill that she obtained the price\noriginally agreed upon for the heap of stones, and a large sum besides\nfor the one in her possession.\n\nThe family, having become wealthy, built an ancestral hall of fine\ndesign and elaborate workmanship, and put the words \"No Sorrow\" as an\ninscription over the entrance. Soon after, a mandarin passed that way,\nand, noticing this remarkable inscription, had his sedan-chair set\ndown, that he might inquire who were the people that professed to have\nno sorrow. He sent for the head of the family, was much surprised\non seeing so young a woman thus appear, and remarked: \"Yours is a\nsingular family. I have never before seen one without sorrow, nor one\nwith so young a head. I will fine you for your impudence. Go and weave\nme a piece of cloth as long as this road.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" responded the little woman; \"so soon as your Excellency\nshall have found the two ends of the road, and informed me as to the\nnumber of feet in its length, I will at once begin the weaving.\"\n\nFinding himself at fault, the mandarin added, \"And I also fine you as\nmuch oil as there is water in the sea.\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" responded the woman; \"as soon as you shall have measured\nthe sea, and sent me correct information as to the number of gallons,\nI will at once begin to press out the oil from my beans.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said the mandarin, \"since you are so sharp, perhaps you can\npenetrate my thoughts. If you can, I will fine you no more. I hold\nthis pet quail in my hand; now tell me whether I mean to squeeze it to\ndeath, or to let it fly in the air.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the woman, \"I am an obscure commoner, and you are a famed\nmagistrate; if you are no more knowing than I, you have no right to\nfine me at all. Now I stand with one foot on one side my threshold and\nthe other foot on the other side; tell me whether I mean to go in or\ncome out. If you cannot guess my riddle, you should not require me to\nguess yours.\"\n\nBeing unable to guess her intention the mandarin took his departure,\nand the family lived long in opulence and good repute under its chosen\nhead.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nA DREADFUL BOAR\n\n\nA poor old woman who lived with her one little granddaughter in a\nwood was out gathering sticks for fuel, and found a green stalk of\nsugar-cane, which she added to her bundle. She presently met an elf in\nthe form of a wild Boar, that asked her for the cane, but she declined\ngiving it to him, saying that, at her age, to stoop and to rise again\nwas to earn what she picked up, and that she was going to take the\ncane home, and let her little granddaughter suck its sap. The Boar,\nangry at her refusal, said that he would, during the coming night, eat\nher granddaughter instead of the cane, and went off into the wood.\n\nWhen the old woman reached her cabin she sat down by the door and\nwailed, for she knew she had no means of defending herself against the\nBoar. While she sat crying, a vender of needles came along and asked\nher what was the matter. She told him, and he said that all he could\ndo for her was to give her a box of needles. This he did, and went on\nhis way. The old woman stuck the needles thickly over the lower half\nof her door, on its outer side, and then she went on crying. Just then\na man came along with a basket of crabs, heard her lamentations, and\nstopped to inquire what ailed her. She told him, and he said he knew\nno help for her, but he would do the best he could for her by giving\nher half his crabs. The old woman put the crabs in her water-jar,\nbehind her door, and again sat down and cried. A farmer soon came\nalong from the fields, leading his ox, and he also asked the cause of\nher distress and heard her sad story. He said he was sorry he could\nnot think of any way of preventing the evil she expected, but that he\nwould leave his ox to stay all night with her, as it might be a sort\nof company for her in her loneliness. She led the ox into her cabin,\ntied it to the head of her bedstead, gave it some straw, and then\ncried again.\n\nA courier, returning on horseback from a neighboring town, next passed\nher door, and dismounted to inquire what troubled her. Having heard\nher tale, he said he would leave his horse to stay with her, and make\nthe ox more contented. So she tied the horse to the foot of her bed,\nand, thinking how surely evil was coming upon her with the night,\nshe burst out crying anew. A boy just then came along with a\nsnapping-turtle that he had caught, and stopped to ask what had\nhappened to her. On learning the cause of her weeping, he said it was\nof no use to contend against sprites, but that he would give her his\nsnapping-turtle as a proof, of his sympathy. She took the turtle, tied\nit in front of her bedstead, and continued to cry.\n\nSome men who were carrying mill-stones then came along, inquired\ninto her trouble, and expressed their compassion by giving her a\nmill-stone, which they rolled into her back yard. A little later a man\narrived carrying hoes and pickax, and asked her why she was crying so\nhard. She told him her grief, and he said he would gladly help her if\nhe could, but he was only a well-digger, and could do nothing for her\nother than to dig her a well. She pointed out a place in the middle of\nher back yard, and he went to work and quickly dug a well.\n\nOn his departure the old woman cried again, until a paper-seller came\nand inquired what was the matter. When she had told him, he gave her\na large sheet of white paper, as a token of pity, and she laid it\nsmoothly over the mouth of the well.\n\nNightfall came; the old woman shut and barred her door, put her\ngranddaughter snugly on the wall-side of the bed, and then lay down\nbeside her, to await the foe.\n\nAt midnight the Boar came, and threw himself against the door to break\nit in. The needles wounded him sorely, so that when he had gained\nan entrance he was heated and thirsty, and went to the water-jar to\ndrink. When he thrust in his snout the crabs attacked him, clung to\nhis bristles and pinched his ears, till he rolled over and over to\ndisencumber himself. Then in a rage he approached the front of the\nbed, but the snapping-turtle nipped his tail, and made him retreat\nunder the feet of the horse, who kicked him over to the ox, who tossed\nhim back to the horse; and thus beset he was glad to escape to the\nback yard to take a rest, and to consider the situation. Seeing a\nclean paper spread on the ground, he went to lie upon it, and fell\ninto the well. The old woman heard the fall, rushed out, rolled the\nmill-stone down on him, and crushed him.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nRUSSIAN STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nKING KOJATA\n\n\nKing Kojata ruled over a mighty kingdom, and was beloved by his\nsubjects; but because he had no heir to his crown, both he and the\nQueen lamented. Once, while traveling through his territories, he came\nto a well that was filled to the brim with clear cold water; and being\nvery thirsty, he stopped to drink. On the top of the water floated a\ngolden vessel, which the King attempted to seize; but just as his hand\ntouched it, away it floated to the other side of the well. He went\naround to where the vessel rested and tried again, with the same\nresult. Every time the King touched the basin it glided from his\ngrasp. At last, losing patience, he gave up trying to seize the\nvessel, and bending over the well, he began to drink. His long beard\nhad fallen into the water, and when he had slaked his thirst and\nattempted to rise, he found himself held fast by it. After vainly\npulling and jerking for some time, he looked down into the water and\nsaw a hideous face grinning at him. Its eyes were green and shining,\nits teeth showed from ear to ear, and it held him by the beard with\ntwo bony claws. In horror, the king tried to extricate himself, but a\nterrible voice came from the depths of the well:\n\n\"You cannot get away, King Kojata, so do not make me pull your beard\ntoo hard. There is something at the palace of which you do not know;\npromise to give it to me, and I will release you.\"\n\nThe King did not know of anything that could have arrived at the\npalace during his absence worth the discomfort he was experiencing;\nso he very readily gave his promise, and was freed. When he had shaken\nthe water from his beard, he looked in the well for the ugly monster\nwhich had held him captive, but he was nowhere to be seen. Summoning\nhis attendants, he at once set out for home, where he arrived in a few\ndays. The people along the way hailed him with delight; and when he\nreached the palace, the Queen led him to the royal chamber and showed\nhim a beautiful son that had been born during his absence. His joy was\nso great that he forgot all else; but after a time he recalled with\nhorror his compact with the monster of the well, and the meaning was\nall plain to him. The thought of what he had promised haunted him day\nand night, and the fear that something would happen to his little son\ntortured him. But as days and months passed, and the little Prince\ngrew more beautiful all the time, the King at last forgot his fears\nand became happy once more.\n\nYears went by without anything happening to disturb his peace of mind,\nand the Prince grew to be a beautiful youth, who was the joy and pride\nof the King and Queen. One day he went with the hunters to the forest,\nand while pursuing a wild boar, became separated from them. He got\nfarther and farther away from his companions, and at last found\nhimself alone in a dark part of the wood where he never before had\nbeen. Not knowing in which direction his path lay, he called again and\nagain to the hunters. At last a hoarse voice answered him, and from\nthe hollow trunk of a lime-tree appeared a hideous man with green eyes\nand terrible teeth.\n\n\"I've waited for you a long time, Prince Milan,\" said he.\n\n\"Who on earth may you be?\" asked the Prince.\n\n\"Your father will tell you who I am. Just give my greetings to his\nMajesty, and tell him that I am ready to claim the debt he owes me.\"\n\nThe green-eyed man then disappeared into the hollow tree from which he\ncame; and when the Prince reached home, he related his experience to\nhis father. The King turned white, and cried:\n\n\"At last, it has come!\" Then he explained to the Prince what had\noccurred at the well, and added, \"Now my happiness is at an end, for\nyou, my son, will be taken from me.\"\n\nThe Prince told the King not to despair, for though he might go\naway, he was certain to return to him. His father provided him with a\nhandsome horse with golden stirrups, and the Queen gave him a cross to\nwear about his neck. When he had said farewell to his unhappy parents,\nhe mounted his horse and rode for two days without stopping.\n\nOn the third day he came to a lake on whose smooth surface thirty\nducks were swimming, while spread about upon the grass were thirty\nwhite garments. The Prince dismounted, and taking up one of the\ngarments, seated himself behind a bush and waited to see what would\nhappen. The ducks dived under the water and disported themselves for a\ntime, then came ashore and putting on the little white garments, they\nbecame beautiful maidens, and disappeared. But there was one little\nduck, that remained on the lake and swam about in the most distracted\nmanner, uttering piteous cries. The Prince came from behind the bush\nand the little duck begged him to give back her garment. He had no\nsooner done so than before him stood the loveliest maiden he had ever\nseen.\n\n\"Thank you, Prince Milan, for restoring my garment,\" said she. \"My\nname is Hyacinthia, and I am one of the thirty daughters of a King\nof the Underworld, to whose castle I will lead you, for he has waited\nlong for you. Approach him on your knees and do not fear him, for I\nwill be there to help you, whatever happens.\"\n\nShe tapped her little foot on the ground, which opened; and they were\nimmediately transported to the palace of her father in the Underworld,\nwhich was carved from a single carbuncle. When his eyes became\naccustomed to the radiant light, the Prince saw the magician of the\nlime-tree sitting on a dazzling throne. His green eyes looked out from\nunder a golden crown, and his hideous claws clutched the air with\nrage when he saw the Prince. Remembering what the maiden had told him,\nPrince Milan walked boldly up to the throne and knelt at the feet of\nthe magician, who cursed in a voice that shook the Underworld. As\nthe youth was not at all frightened, the magician at last stopped\nswearing. Laughing at his courage, he welcomed him to his palace,\nand showed him to a beautiful chamber which he was to occupy. On the\nfollowing day he sent for him and said;\n\n\"You are very brave, Prince Milan, but you must pay the penalty for\nkeeping me waiting so long for you. To-night build me a palace of gold\nand marble, with windows of crystal, and about it the most beautiful\ngardens in the world, or tomorrow I shall cut off your head.\"\n\nThe Prince went back to his chamber and sadly awaited his doom. That\nevening a small bee flew in through his window, and as soon as it\nentered the room it became Hyacinthia. \"Why are you sad, Prince\nMilan?\" she asked. He told her of her father's impossible command and\nadded, \"Naturally, I am not happy at the thought of losing my head.\"\n\n\"Do not be distressed about that,\" said she, \"but trust to me.\" In the\nmorning he looked out of the window and saw a wonderful marble palace,\nwith a roof of gold.\n\nWhen the magician beheld it, he exclaimed, \"You have accomplished a\ngreat wonder, but I cannot let you off so easily. To-morrow I will\nplace my thirty daughters in a row, and if you cannot tell me which\none is the youngest, you will lose your head.\"\n\nThe Prince, however, was not cast down at this, for he thought he\nwould have no trouble in recognizing Hyacinthia. That evening the\nlittle bee entered the room and told him that this task was quite as\ndifficult as the first, because the sisters were all exactly alike.\n\"But you will know me,\" said she, \"by a little fly which you will\ndiscover on my cheek.\"\n\nThe next day the magician summoned him to his presence, and showed him\nthe thirty daughters standing in a row. The Prince passed before them\ntwice, without daring to choose; but he saw the little fly on the pink\ncheek of one of the maidens.\n\n\"This is Hyacinthia!\" exclaimed he. The magician was greatly\nastonished; but not yet satisfied, he required of the Prince still\nanother task.\n\n\"If, before this candle burns to the bottom,\" said he, \"you make me\na pair of boots reaching to my knees, I will let you go; but if you\nfail, you will lose your head.\"\n\n\"Then we must fly, for I love you dearly,\" said Hyacinthia, when the\nPrince had told her of this new task. She breathed on the window-pane,\nand straightway it was covered with frost; then, leading Prince Milan\nfrom the chamber, she locked the door, and they fled through the\npassage by which they had entered the Underworld. Beside the smooth\nlake his horse was still grazing, and mounting it, they were borne\nswiftly away.\n\nWhen the magician sent for the Prince to come to him, the frozen\nbreath replied to the messengers, and so delayed the discovery of his\nescape. At last the magician lost patience and ordered the door burst\nopen. The frozen breath mocked at him, and he hastened in pursuit of\nthe fugitives.\n\n\"I hear the sound of horses' feet behind us,\" said Hyacinthia. The\nPrince dismounted, and putting his ear to the ground, answered, \"Yes,\nthey are near.\" Hyacinthia thereupon changed herself into a river, and\nthe Prince became a bridge, and his horse a blackbird. Their pursuers,\nno longer finding their footprints, were obliged to return to the\nmagician, who cursed them, and again sent them forth.\n\n\"I hear the sound of horses' feet behind us,\" again said Hyacinthia.\nThe Prince put his ear to the earth and said, \"Yes, they are nearly\nupon us.\" Thereupon Hyacinthia changed herself, the Prince and the\nhorse, all into a dense forest in which many paths crossed, so\nthat the followers were bewildered; and they again returned to the\nmagician.\n\n\"I hear horses' feet behind us,\" said Hyacinthia a third time; and\nthis time it was the magician himself. Hyacinthia took the little\ncross from the neck of the Prince, and changed herself into a church,\nthe Prince into a monk, and the horse into the belfry; so that when\nthe magician came up he lost all trace of them, and was obliged to\nreturn to the Underworld in great chagrin.\n\nWhen he had departed, the Prince and Hyacinthia mounted the horse and\nrode till they came to a beautiful town.\n\n\"We must not enter,\" said she, \"for we may not come out again.\"\nBut the Prince would not take her advice, and insisted upon passing\nthrough the gates.\n\n\"Then,\" sadly replied the maiden, \"when the King and Queen of the town\ncome out to meet you, do not kiss the little child which they will\nlead by the hand, or you will forget me and never come back. As for\nme, I will become a milestone and wait for you here.\"\n\nIt was all as Hyacinthia had said. The King and Queen came out to\ngreet him, and when the lovely little child ran up to him for a\ncaress, he kissed its pretty face and forgot Hyacinthia.\n\nThe first and second day went by; and when the third day came,\nHyacinthia wept, and became a little blue flower growing by the\nroadside. An old man came along, and digging up the flower carried it\nhome with him and planted it in his garden. He watered and tended it\ncarefully, and one day the little flower became a beautiful maiden.\n\n\"Why did you not leave me to die by the roadside?\" she asked, and told\nthe old man her story.\n\n\"To-morrow is Prince Milan's wedding day,\" said the old man.\n\nHyacinthia at once dried her tears, and presented herself at the\npalace, dressed like a peasant. She went to the cook and asked to\nbe allowed to make the wedding cake. The cook was so struck with her\nbeauty that he could not refuse the request. When the guests were all\nseated about the table, Prince Milan was called upon to cut the cake.\nAs soon as he had done so, out flew two beautiful doves, which circled\nabout his head.\n\n\"Dear mate,\" cried one of the doves, \"do not leave me as Prince Milan\nleft Hyacinthia.\"\n\nThe Prince, who suddenly recollected all he had forgotten, ran from\nthe room and at the door found Hyacinthia and his horse awaiting him.\nThey mounted and rode swiftly away to the kingdom of King Kojata,\nwhere the King and Queen received them with tears of joy, and they all\nlived in happiness to the end of their days.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF KING FROST\n\n\nA shrewish peasant woman had a daughter on whom she lavished\neverything she could get, and a stepdaughter whom she neglected and\nill treated. In the mother's eyes the daughter had no faults, while\nthe stepdaughter was always blamed, and, try as she might, the poor\ngirl never could please. So unhappy was she made that her eyes were\noften red from weeping. The sight of her tear-stained face only\nangered the stepmother the more, and caused her to say to the girl's\nfather:\n\n\"Send her away, old man. My eyes are tired of the sight of her, and my\nears of the sound of her voice. Send her out of the house.\"\n\nThe father begged to have his daughter remain, but the shrew was\ndetermined to be rid of her, and gave him no peace. At last, when he\ncould gainsay her no longer, he placed his daughter in a sledge and\ndrove her to the open fields. Here he left her, with nothing to shield\nher from the bitter cold. Kissing her good-by, he drove away, not\ndaring to look back at Her.\n\nLeft alone by her father, the girl wandered across the bleak fields to\nthe edge of the forest, where she sat down under a fir-tree and\nwept. A crackling sound caused her to look up, and she saw King Frost\nspringing from one tree to another. When he reached the fir-tree\nhe jumped down beside her with a bound. Snapping his fingers in her\nlovely face, he asked:\n\n\"Do you know who I am? I will tell you. I am King Frost.\"\n\n\"Hail to you, great King!\" smiled the maiden. \"Have you come for me?\"\n\n\"Are you warm, fair maiden?\" he asked in answer.\n\n\"Yes, quite warm, King Frost,\" the maiden replied, although she was\nshivering.\n\nKing Frost bent over her and snapped his fingers about her, until the\nair seemed full of needles. Again he asked, \"Are you still warm, dear\nmaiden?\"\n\nHer lips could scarcely move to utter the words, \"Quite warm, King\nFrost.\"\n\nHe snapped his teeth and cracked his fingers, till all the air was\nfilled with stinging things. His eyes glistened and for the last time\nhe asked, \"Are you warm, now, beautiful maiden? Are you still warm, my\ndear?\"\n\nShe was now scarcely able to speak, but managed to gasp, \"Still warm,\nKing Frost.\"\n\nThe gentle girl's patience and uncomplaining endurance caused King\nFrost to take pity on her suffering. He arrayed her in a robe,\nembroidered in silver and gold, and decked her with sparkling\ndiamonds. She glittered and shone, and was dazzling to behold. Then\nplacing her in his sleigh, he wrapped her in furs; and six white\nhorses bore them swiftly away.\n\nThe stepmother, at home, was baking pancakes for the girl's funeral\nfeast. \"Go in the field,\" she said to her husband, \"and bring your\ndaughter's body home, so we can bury her.\" The old man rose to obey,\nwhen the little dog barked:\n\n \"Your daughter shall not die;\n Her's cold and stiff shall lie.\"\n\nThe woman kicked the dog, then tried to coax it with a pancake,\ntelling it to say:\n\n \"Her daughter shall have gold;\n His be frozen stiff and cold.\"\n\nWhen the little dog had swallowed the pancake, he barked:\n\n \"His daughter shall be wed;\n Her's shall be frozen dead.\"\n\nThe woman beat the dog, then coaxed it with more pancakes; but the\nblows could not terrify it nor food persuade. It barked always the\nsame. Suddenly the door opened, and a huge chest was thrust into the\nroom, followed by the radiant stepdaughter, in a dress that dazzled\nthem with its beauty.\n\nAs soon as the stepmother recovered from her astonishment, she\nordered her husband to yoke the horses to the sledge, and take her own\ndaughter to the field. \"Take care you leave her in the same place,\"\nthe old woman cautioned. The father left the girl as he was bidden,\nand returned to his home.\n\nShe was not long alone when King Frost came by.\n\n\"Are you warm, maiden?\" he asked.\n\n\"You must be a fool not to see that my hands and feet are nearly\nfrozen,\" she angrily replied.\n\nThe King danced in front of her, and cracked his fingers.\n\n\"Are you warm, maiden?\" he asked her, over and over. She cried with\nrage, and called him rude names, until he froze the words on her lips,\nand she was dead.\n\nThe mother waited for her daughter's return until she became\nimpatient; then she told her husband to take the sledge and go for\nher. \"But don't lose the chest,\" she added.\n\nThe dog under the table, barked:\n\n \"Your daughter frozen cold,\n Will never need a chest of gold.\"\n\nThe old woman was scolding the dog for telling lies, when the door\nopened. Rushing out to welcome her daughter and her treasures, she\nclasped the frozen body in her arms; and the chill of it killed her.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTALES FOR TINY TOTS\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nTELL US A TALE\n\nBY EDWARD SHIRLEY\n\n \"Tell us a tale, dear mother--\n A fairy tale, do, please,\n Take baby brother on your lap,\n We'll sit beside your knees,\n We will not speak, we will not stir,\n Until the tale is told;\n And we'll be, oh! so comfy,\n And just as good as gold.\"\n\n \"What shall it be, my children?\n Aladdin and his Lamp?\n Or shall I tell the story\n Of Puss in Boots--the scamp?\n Or would you like to hear the tale\n Of Blue Beard, fierce and grim?\n Or Jack who climbed the great beanstalk?--\n I think you're fond of him.\n\n \"Or shall I tell you, children,\n About Red Riding Hood?\n Or what befell those little Babes\n Who wandered in the Wood?\n Or how sweet Cinderella went\n So gaily to the ball?\"\n \"Yes, yes!\" we cried, and clapped our hands;\n \"_We want to hear them all_!\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nLITTLE RED HEN\n\nLittle Red Hen found a grain of wheat.\n\n\"Who will plant this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the goose.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the rat.\n\n\"Then I will,\" said Little Red Hen.\n\nSo she buried the wheat in the ground. After a while it grew up yellow\nand ripe.\n\n\"The wheat is ripe now,\" said Little Red Hen. \"Who will cut and thresh\nit?\"\n\n\"Not I,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the goose.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the rat.\n\n\"Then I will,\" said Little Red Hen.\n\nSo she cut it with her bill and threshed it with her wings. Then she\nasked, \"Who will take this wheat to the mill?\"\n\n\"Not I,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the goose.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the rat.\n\n\"Then I will,\" said Little Red Hen.\n\nSo she took the wheat to the mill, where it was ground. Then she\ncarried the flour home.\n\n\"Who will make me some bread with this flour?\" she asked.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the cat.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the goose.\n\n\"Not I,\" said the rat.\n\n\"Then I will,\" said Little Red Hen.\n\nSo she made and baked the bread.\n\nThen she said, \"Now we shall see who will eat this bread.\"\n\n\"We will,\" said cat, goose, and rat.\n\n\"I am quite sure you would,\" said Little Red Hen, \"if you could get\nit.\"\n\nThen she called her chicks, and they ate up all the bread. There was\nnone left at all for the cat, or the goose, or the rat.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nIN SEARCH OF A BABY\n\nBY F. TAPSELL\n\n\n\"Please, I'm lost.\" These words, and a thump! thump! on the door were\nwhat Mrs. Stone heard as she sat at supper in her tiny house in the\nwood.\n\nShe went to open the door, and there she saw a dear little girl about\nthree years old.\n\n\"Please, I'm lost,\" again came the words, and two fat little fists\nwent up to a pair of big blue eyes.\n\n\"Come in, little girl, and tell me all about it,\" said the woman.\n\"Maybe I can help you to find your way.\"\n\nThe child let herself be led into the room; then all at once the two\ntiny fists came down from the two blue eyes, and she gave a quick look\nat the table.\n\n\"Are you having supper?\" she said. \"May I have supper too? I am ever\nso hungry.\"\n\n\"Yes, dear; of course you shall have some,\" was the reply. \"See, you\nshall sit on this chair by my side. Now what will you have?\"\n\n\"I think I would like some bread and butter with sugar on it--brown\nsugar, you know;\" and soon the little girl was as happy as could be.\n\n\"What is your name, dear?\" asked Mrs. Stone, when supper was over and\nthe little girl had begun to think once more about how she was to find\nher way home.\n\n\"Meg,\" was the reply.\n\n\"But your other name, for you must have two names.\"\n\n\"No, my name is just Meg, of course; I don't have any other name,\" she\nsaid, a look of wonder in the big blue eyes.\n\n\"Do you know where you live?\"\n\n\"Yes; I lives in the nursery. Didn't you know that?\"\n\nShe was so sure that it did not seem any good to say any more about\nit. So Mrs. Stone only asked, \"Where were you going when you came to\nmy house?\"\n\n\"To find a baby,\" was the reply. \"Rob said that if I went to a house\nin the wood they would give me one. Have you got a baby to give me?\"\n\n\"No, dear; I am afraid I have not. But why do you want a baby? I am\nsure you have lots of dolls.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course I have; but then you see dolls are not alive. I want a\nreal baby to play with.\n\n\"Enid won't play with me much now, for she says I am too small, and\nRob is at school all the time.\"\n\n\"Why, who is that?\" said a voice, and a man came in with a bag of\ntools.\n\nThen the two little fists again went up to the blue eyes, for the\nlittle maid was shy of this great big man.\n\n\"Well, wife, so you have a friend, I see,\" he said. \"Who is the little\nlass?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said his wife. \"It seems she was lost, and came here\nto ask her way. She says she came to find a baby.\"\n\n\"Come here, little one, and don't be afraid,\" said the man. \"There\nnever was a child yet who would not come to me,\" and as he spoke he\ndrew her on to his knee. \"Now, then, tell me all about it.\"\n\nAfter one glance at the man's kind face Meg nestled up to him and\nbegan,--\n\n\"Nurse was so busy she could not be in the room with me.\n\n\"So I put on my hat and came to look for a baby; but I got lost on the\nway. At last I came to the wood and saw this house. She could not give\nme a baby as Rob said she would, but she gave me some tea, and bread\nand butter with sugar on it. We only have that on Sunday at home. Is\nthis Sunday?\"\n\n\"No, little miss,\" said the man. \"But I expect you had it just for a\ntreat, as you had got lost.\"\n\nBut just then steps were heard on the path, and there was a sharp\nknock at the door.\n\nThe latch was lifted, and a voice said,--\n\n\"Have you seen a little girl in a white frock pass this way?\"\n\n\"Why, that must be Nurse,\" cried Meg.\n\nIn spite of being cross at Meg's having run away, Nurse had to laugh;\nthen she bent down and said, \"But what made you run away like this,\nMiss Meg?\"\n\n\"Rob told me that if I came to the house in the wood I should find a\nreal live baby; but he was wrong, for she,\" with a smile at Mrs.\nStone, \"is very nice, but she has not got a baby to give me.\"\n\n\"Of course not, child; but do you know that I have some news for you?\"\n\n\"What is it? Do tell me?\" cried the little girl.\n\n\"While you were away in the wood to look for a baby we have found a\nbaby at home. You have a new baby brother. Come home with me now and\nyou shall see him.\"\n\n\"A new little brother,\" said Meg, her eyes wide open with wonder. \"He\nmust have known I had gone out to look for one. So now I have got two\nnew friends and a baby too. Come along, quick.\"\n\n\"Good-bye,\" she said to her new friends. \"Thank you ever so much for\nbeing so kind, and for the supper.\n\n\"I am coming to have supper with you again soon, and then I will bring\nthe new baby with me. You will give me and baby bread and butter with\nsugar on it, won't you?\" and Meg trotted off as happy as a little\nqueen.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nJOCK AND I AND THE OTHERS\n\nFirst of all, I must tell you who I am.\n\nMy name is PE-NEL-O-PE, but Jock always calls me Pen. I am eight years\nold; Jock is half-past six.\n\nWe live with mother and father and Rover and Tibby in a house not very\nfar from a large city.\n\nMother is the nicest person I know in all the world.\n\nFather is a very big man. He always has lots of money in his pocket.\nHe goes to business in a train every day.\n\nWe have a real farm, quite near to our house, where they keep cows,\nchickens, pigs, horses, and geese. Jock and I often go to see them\nall.\n\nOne day in summer we went to see the farmer. I had my blue dress on,\nso that the cows would not be angry when they saw me.\n\nWe met the farmer near the stable. \"Come,\" he said; \"I have something\nto show you to-day.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" we said both at the same time.\n\n\"Come and see,\" was all that he would say.\n\nThen he took us into the stable where he keeps Nobby, the big brown\nhorse, who likes sugar.\n\nNow Nobby was not there, but in the straw were seven little puppy\ndogs--oh, so sweet and cuddly!\n\nJock danced round and round the farmer. \"May we have one?\" he said.\n\n\"Ask mother,\" said the farmer, and off we ran at once.\n\nMother was at the garden gate.\n\nWe ran up to her. Jock was first, but it was nearly a dead heat.\nMother opened the gate and said,--\n\n\"Well, what have you seen to-day?\"\n\n\"O mother,\" said Jock, out of breath.\n\n\"O mother _dear_\" I said, out of breath also.\n\n\"Farmer has such lovely puppies,\" we both said at once. \"May we have\none to keep?\"\n\nBy this time we both had our arms round mother's waist, and she was\nlaughing.\n\n\"Yes, we can,\" I said, for I _knew_.\n\n\"If _father_ says yes,\" said mother. \"You must ask him when he comes\nhome.\"\n\nSo we went to the station to meet him. Jock took his bag, and I took\nhis paper parcel to carry it home for him.\n\nOn the way home I asked him if he liked dogs, and he said, \"Of\ncourse.\"\n\nThen Jock said, \"_Little_ dogs?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes.\"\n\n\"_Puppy_ dogs?\"\n\n\"One at a time is all right.\"\n\n\"One puppy dog with brown spots on white?\" Jock went on.\n\n\"Where is it?\" asked father, and his eyes were laughing; you could not\nsee his mouth for his beard.\n\nThen we told him, and he said \"Yes,\" just at the garden gate. So that\nwas how we got Rover.\n\n * * * * *\n\nRover was very soft and downy when he first came to us. But he soon\ngrew to be a big dog.\n\nJock and I taught him many tricks; and he can beg very nicely, if we\nlet him get on the couch in the dining-room.\n\nWe put sugar on his nose, and he waits until we count One, Two, THREE.\n\nThen he throws the sugar into the air and catches it.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nDOLLY DIMPLE\n\nBY F. TAPSELL\n\n\n\"Oh dear, I am so lonely, and it is so dark! I do want my dear Dolly\nDimple. I think I will go and fetch her.\" And little four-year-old\nBabs got out of bed and felt her way to the door.\n\nThe door was just a wee crack open. As she peeped in, Babs saw that\nthere was a light in the room, and the sight which met her eyes almost\nmade her cry out.\n\nOn the floor stood Dolly Dimple in her very best frock, and Mr.\nJollyman was asking her to dance with him.\n\nTeddy Bear was at work on the big drum, and the clown was turning the\norgan to make music for the dolls to dance to.\n\nThe tin soldiers, on the backs of cows, pigs, and sheep from the\nNoah's Ark were having a sham fight.\n\nThe dolls from the dolls' house were going for a ride in the big horse\nand cart.\n\n\"It is too bad of them to go and have a good time like this when I am\nin bed,\" thought Babs, \"and I am going to take Dolly Dimple away with\nme all the same.\"\n\nBut when she tried to pick up the doll and carry her off, Mr. Jollyman\nflew at her in a fury.\n\nHe began to kick her bare legs till Babs thought she would have no\nshins left at all; but she would not run away.\n\n\"I want Dolly Dimple,\" she said. \"She is my doll, and you have no\nright to try to keep her away from me.\"\n\n\"She is yours in the day, but not at night,\" was the reply.\n\n\"How do you think we toys could live if we had no life but the one\nwe endure at your hands? It is in the night that we live and have our\ngood times, for we know you are safe in bed then.\"\n\n\"I don't care what you say; I will have her,\" cried Babs, very angry\nnow.\n\nShe tried once more to get hold of Dolly Dimple; but before she could\ndo so, Mr. Jollyman turned to the soldiers, and said the one word,\n\"Charge.\"\n\nThere was a great noise and a rush, and right down upon the little\ngirl came camels, horses, lions, tigers, sheep, and pigs.\n\nBut just as she thought her last hour was come, she heard, the word\n\"Halt,\" and then the sound of Dolly Dimple saying, \"No, don't kill\nher. She is very good to me most of the time.\"\n\nThe rest of the dolls had begun to dance once more, but Dolly Dimple\ncame up to the little girl and took hold of her arm.\n\n\"I am queen here in the night,\" she said. \"I will not hurt you, as you\nhave been good to me, and I know you love me. If you like, I will come\nand stay with you till you go to sleep. Pick me up.\"\n\nSo Babs picked up the doll, and took it back to bed with her, and\nhugged it in her arms.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE TALE OF PETER RABBIT\n\nBY BEATRIX POTTER\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names\nwere--Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-Tail, and Peter. They lived with their\nMother in a sandbank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.\n\n\"Now, my dears,\" said old Mrs. Rabbit, one morning, \"you may go into\nthe fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden:\nyour Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs.\nMcGregor.\"\n\n\"Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out.\"\n\nThen old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and went through\nthe wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five\ncurrant buns.\n\nFlopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went\ndown the lane to gather blackberries.\n\nBut Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's\ngarden, and squeezed under the gate!\n\nFirst he ate some lettuces and some French beans, and then he ate\nsome radishes; and then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some\nparsley.\n\nBut round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr.\nMcGregor!\n\nMr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages,\nbut he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out,\n\"Stop, thief!\"\n\nPeter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden,\nfor he had forgotten the way back to the gate. He lost one of his\nshoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.\n\nAfter losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I\nthink he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately\nrun into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his\njacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.\n\nPeter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs\nwere overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great\nexcitement, and implored him to exert himself.\n\nMr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the\ntop of Peter, but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket\nbehind him; and rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It\nwould have been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so\nmuch water in it.\n\nMr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool-shed,\nperhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He began to turn them over\ncarefully, looking under each.\n\nPresently Peter sneezed--\"Kerty-schoo!\" Mr. McGregor was after him\nin no time, and tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of\na window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr.\nMcGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his\nwork.\n\nPeter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with\nfright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was\nvery damp with sitting in that can.\n\nAfter a time he began to wander about, going lippity-lippity--not very\nfast, and looking all around.\n\nHe found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room\nfor a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.\n\nAn old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying\npeas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to\nthe gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not\nanswer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.\n\nThen he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he\nbecame more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where\nMr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some\ngoldfish; she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her\ntail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away\nwithout speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin,\nlittle Benjamin Bunny.\n\nHe went back toward the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him,\nhe heard the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scratch.\nPeter scuttered underneath the bushes. But, presently, as nothing\nhappened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow, and peeped\nover. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back\nwas turned toward Peter, and beyond him was the gate!\n\nPeter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow, and started\nrunning as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some\nblack-currant bushes.\n\nMr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not\ncare. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood\noutside the garden.\n\nMr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow\nto frighten the blackbirds.\n\nPeter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to\nthe big fir-tree.\n\nHe was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the\nfloor of the rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes.\n\nHis mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his\nclothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter\nhad lost in a fortnight!\n\nI am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.\n\nHis mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a\ndose of it to Peter!\n\n\"One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.\"\n\nBut Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries\nfor supper.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a miller who lived in a little house beside\nhis mill. All day long he worked hard, but at night he went home to\nhis wife and his little boy.\n\nOne day this miller made up his mind that he would take his ass to\nthe fair and sell it. So he and his boy said farewell to the dame and\nstarted off. They had not gone far when they met a number of girls\ncoming from the town.\n\n\"Look!\" said one of them. \"Did you ever see such stupid fellows? They\nare walking when one of them might be riding.\"\n\nWhen the miller heard this he bade the boy get up on the ass, while he\ntramped along merrily by its side. Soon they came to a number of old\nmen standing by the side of the road talking together.\n\n\"Look at that,\" said one of them, \"Look at that young rascal riding,\nwhile his poor father has to walk. Get down, you idle fellow, and let\nyour father ride.\"\n\nUpon this the son got down from the ass, and the miller took his\nplace. They had not gone very far when they met two women coming home\nfrom market.\n\n\"You lazy old man!\" they cried at once. \"How dare you ride when your\npoor little boy is walking and can hardly keep pace with you?\"\n\nThen the miller, who was a good-natured man, took his son up behind\nhim, and in this way they went to the town.\n\n\"My good fellow,\" said a townsman whom they met, \"is that ass your\nown?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the miller.\n\n\"I should not have thought so, by the way you load him,\" said the man.\n\"Why, you two are better able to carry the beast than he is to carry\nyou.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the miller, \"we can but try.\"\n\nSo he and his son got down, and tied the legs of the ass together.\nThen they slung him on a pole, and carried him on their shoulders. It\nwas such a funny sight that the people laughed and jeered at them.\n\nThe poor ass was very uncomfortable, and tried hard to get off the\npole. At last, as they were passing over a bridge, he pulled his legs\nout of the rope and tumbled to the ground. He was so frightened that\nhe jumped off the bridge into the river and was drowned.\n\nDo you know what this story teaches you?\n\n_If you try to please everybody, you will please nobody._\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE VISIT TO SANTA CLAUS LAND\n\n\nJack and Margaret were growing more excited each day, because\nChristmas was so near. They talked of nothing but Santa Claus.\n\n\"Don't you wish you could _see_ him?\" they said over and over.\n\nOne night, just before Christmas, Mother tucked them in bed and left\nthem to go to sleep. But Jack wiggled, Margaret wriggled. At last they\nboth sat up in bed.\n\n\"Jack,\" Margaret whispered, \"are you asleep?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Jack, \"I can't go to sleep. Margaret, don't you wish you\ncould see Santa Claus? What's that?\"\n\nThey both listened, and they heard a little _tap, tap_ on the window.\nThey looked, and there, right in the window, they saw a funny little\nBrownie.\n\n\"What's that I heard you say? You want to see Santa Claus? Well, I\nam one of his Brownies. I am on my way back to Santa Claus Land. I'll\ntake you with me if you want to go.\"\n\nJack and Margaret scrambled from their beds.\n\n\"Come on, show us the way!\" they cried in great excitement.\n\n\"No, indeed,\" said the Brownie. \"No one must know the way to Santa\nClaus Land. Kindly wait a moment.\"\n\nThen the Brownie took something soft and thick and dark, and tied it\naround Jack's eyes. Next he took something soft and thick and dark,\nand tied it around Margaret's eyes.\n\n\"How many fingers before you?\" he asked.\n\nBoth of them shook their heads. They could not see a wink.\n\n\"Very well, now we're off,\" said the Brownie.\n\nHe took Jack's hand on one side, and Margaret's on the other. It\nseemed as if they flew through the window. They went on swiftly for a\nlittle while, then the Brownie whirled them round and round until\nthey were dizzy, and off they went again. The children could not tell\nwhether they were going north, south, east, or west. After a time they\nstopped.\n\n\"Here we are,\" said the Brownie.\n\nHe uncovered their eyes, and the children saw that they were standing\nbefore a big, thick gate.\n\nThe Brownie knocked and the gate was swung open. They went through it,\nright into Santa Claus's garden.\n\nIt was a very queer garden. There were rows and rows of Christmas\ntrees, all glittering with balls and cobwebby tinsel, and instead\nof flower beds there were beds of every kind of toy in the world.\nMargaret at once ran over to a bed of dolls.\n\n\"Let's see if any of them are ripe,\" said the Brownie.\n\n\"Ripe?\" said Margaret in great surprise.\n\n\"Why, of course,\" said the Brownie. \"Now if this one is ripe it will\nshut its eyes.\"\n\nThe Brownie picked a little doll from the bed and laid it in\nMargaret's arms. Its eyes went half shut, and then stuck.\n\n\"No, it's not ripe yet,\" said the Brownie. \"Try this one.\"\n\nHe picked another one, and this one shut its eyes just as if it had\ngone to sleep.\n\n\"We'll take that one,\" he said, and he dropped it into a big sack he\nwas carrying.\n\n\"Now this one cries, if it's ripe,\" he said as he picked a lovely\ninfant doll. The Brownie gave it a squeeze, and the doll made a funny\nsqueaking noise.\n\n\"Not quite ripe,\" he said, and he put it back into the bed. He tried\nseveral others, and he picked a good many. Some of them cried, some\nsaid \"Mamma\" and \"Papa,\" and some danced when they were wound up.\n\n\"Oh, do come over here, Margaret!\" Jack called.\n\nMargaret ran over to another bed and there were drums--big drums,\nlittle drums, and middle sized drums; yellow drums, blue drums, green\ndrums, red drums.\n\n\"Can we gather some of these?\" said Jack to the Brownie.\n\n\"Why, of course. Let's see if this one is ripe.\"\n\nThe Brownie took up a little red drum, and gave it a thump with a\ndrum stick. But it made such a queer sound that Jack and Margaret both\nlaughed out loud. The little red drum was put back into the bed, and\nthe Brownie tried another big one. It went _Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!\nBoom_! and Jack and Margaret marched all along the bed, keeping step\nto it.\n\nWhen they had finished picking drums, they went over to a bed filled\nwith horns. That was the most fun of all. Some of them made very queer\nnoises, and on some the Brownie played jolly little tunes.\n\nThe next bed they came to was filled with toys which could be wound\nup. There were trains, automobiles, dancing dolls, climbing monkeys,\nhopping birds, funny wobbling ducks, and every kind of toy you could\nthink of. The children stayed at this bed for a long time.\n\nAt last Margaret said: \"But where is Santa Claus? We wanted to see\nhim.\"\n\n\"Oh, to be sure,\" said the Brownie. \"Come along,\" and he led them down\na long, winding walk, to the edge of the garden. Then he pointed to a\nhill in the distance.\n\n\"Do you see that large white house? There is where he lives.\"\n\nThe children stared at it. It was so white that it seemed to shine in\nthe distance.\n\n\"Walk right across here,\" said the Brownie, \"then up the hill to Santa\nClaus's house.\"\n\n\"Oh, must we walk across there?\" said Margaret. She stared down at\nthe deep dark chasm between the garden and the hill; across it was\nstretched a narrow plank.\n\n\"Walk carefully,\" said the Brownie, \"and mind you don't look down; for\nif you do, I'm afraid you won't see Santa Claus to-night.\"\n\n\"We'll be very careful,\" said Jack. \"Come along, Margaret,\" and he\ntook his little sister's hand and they started across the plank.\n\nThey had almost reached the middle of it when Jack looked down.\n\n\"Oh!\" he said, and gave Margaret a pull.\n\nShe looked down too, and cried \"Oh, Oh!\" and down, down, down they\nwent.\n\nSuddenly they landed with a thump. They sat up and rubbed their eyes.\nThere they were right in their own beds at home. Mother opened the\ndoor.\n\n\"Are you awake, children?\" she said.\n\n\"Oh, Mother, we haven't been asleep. We've been to Santa Claus Land,\nand we nearly saw Santa Claus!\"\n\nThen they told her all about it, and Mother just smiled.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEDY BROWNIE\n\n\nThere was once a little Brownie who lived in a hollow tree stump. He\nhad been busy all the day playing pranks. His pranks had taken him\nfar away from home to the house of a very important laird. Into the\nlaird's cup of wine he had dropped some sour berries which he had\npicked on his way. He also put thistles into his boots, so that when\nthe laird had drawn them on he had screamed out with pain.\n\nThe Brownie had been away all the day, so that when at last he turned\nto go back to his home he felt really very tired. On his way back to\nthe wood he passed by a cozy-looking farmhouse. The door of the dairy\nwas open. The Brownie thought this would be a very nice cool place\nin which to rest for a few moments. So he slipped into the dairy, and\ncurled himself up underneath the bench to have a nice little doze.\n\nHe was so weary that once he had fallen asleep he never woke up again\nuntil it was quite dark, when he was disturbed by two lassies who had\ncome into the dairy.\n\nOne was carrying a candle in her hand, and by its light the pair\nespied a big bowl of cream on the shelf. The naughty girls thought\nthat they would drink it for supper. They could only find one spoon\non the shelf, so they decided they would each have a spoonful in turn.\nLassie Jean took the bowl and carried it to a bench in the corner, and\nLassie Meg followed it with the candle. No sooner had the two girls\nsettled themselves than the Brownie, who was now wide awake, and who\nwas himself feeling that some supper might not be out of place, crept\nup behind them and blew out the candle.\n\nThe lassies at first were very much concerned at being in the dark;\nnevertheless they determined they would drink the cream, all the same.\n\nLassie Jean filled the spoon with the rich delicacy. She was about to\nraise it to her lips when the naughty Brownie poked his head over her\nshoulder, and lapped it out of the spoon before it had reached her\nmouth. Lassie Meg, believing that Lassie Jean had already swallowed\nsome cream while she had had none, stretched out her hand to take away\nthe spoon from her friend. Lassie Jean was not willing to give it\nup, since she said she had not yet tasted any cream. Lassie Meg was\nunwilling to believe her, for she declared she had heard her lapping\nthe cream.\n\nWithout waiting for Lassie Jean to explain, she snatched the spoon out\nof her friend's hand. She filled it with cream from the bowl, and\nwas about to raise it to her lips when the Brownie jumped from behind\nLassie Jean, and settling himself behind Lassie Meg's shoulders, poked\nforward his head, and again lapped up the cream from out of the spoon.\n\nLassie Jean in her turn snatched back the spoon from Lassie Meg. Thus\nthey went on, for every time one or the other raised the spoonful\nof cream to her lips it was lapped up by the Brownie. This continued\nuntil the bowl was emptied. The Brownie was full of cream, but\nthe poor lassies had not so much as tasted one drop, although each\nbelieved the other had drunk it all.\n\nThe lassies were still quarreling when the door of the dairy was\nopened, and the farmer's wife entered, carrying a lighted candle in\nher hand. The moment that she did so the Brownie hopped under the\nbench and the lassies started up guiltily.\n\nThe farmer's wife caught sight of the empty basin. She was very angry\nwith them indeed. When they tried hastily to explain, each blaming\nthe other, the farmer's wife would not listen, but only grew the more\nangry. She told them that, since they had supped so well, they should\nhave none of the scones and eggs which she had prepared for the\nevening meal in the kitchen.\n\nWhen the farmer's wife had entered she had left the door open, so\nwhile she was busily scolding the lassies the Brownie slipped out\nfrom under the bench and made his escape. As he ran chuckling down\nthe road, he could still hear her angry voice drowning the attempted\nexplanations of the bewildered lassies. When the little fellow curled\nhimself up some time later in the tree trunk he was still laughing.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRIES' PASSAGE\n\nBY JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN\n\n Tap, tap, tap, rap! \"Get up, gaffer Ferryman,\"\n \"Eh! Who is there?\" The clock strikes three.\n \"Get up, do, gaffer! You are the very man\n We have been long, long, longing to see.\"\n The ferryman rises, growling and grumbling,\n And goes fum-fumbling, and stumbling, and tumbling\n Over the wares on his way to the door.\n But he sees no more\n Than he saw before;\n Till a voice is heard: \"O Ferryman dear!\n Here we are waiting, all of us, here.\n We are a wee, wee colony, we;\n Some two hundred in all, or three,\n Ferry us over the river Lee,\n Ere dawn of day,\n And we will pay\n The most we may\n In our own wee way!\"\n\n \"Who are you? Whence came you?\n What place are you going to?\"\n \"Oh, we have dwelt over-long in this land;\n The people get cross, and are growing so knowing, too!\n Nothing at all but they now understand.\n We are daily vanishing under the thunder\n Of some huge engine or iron wonder;\n That iron, ah! it has entered our souls.\"\n \"Your souls? O gholes,\n You queer little drolls,\n Do you mean....?\" \"Good gaffer, do aid us with speed,\n For our time, like our stature, is short indeed!\n And a very long way we have to go;\n Eight or ten thousand miles or so,\n Hither and thither, and to and fro,\n With our pots and pans\n And little gold cans;\n But our light caravans\n Run swifter than man's.\"\n\n \"Well, well, you may come,\" said the ferryman affably;\n \"Patrick, turn out, and get ready the barge.\"\n Then again to the little folk; \"Tho' you seem laughably\n Small, I don't mind, if your coppers be large.\"\n Oh, dear, what a rushing, what pushing, what crushing\n (The watermen making vain efforts at hushing\n The hubbub the while), there followed these words.\n What clapping of boards,\n What strapping of cords,\n What stowing away of children and wives,\n And platters and mugs, and spoons and knives,\n Till all had safely got into the boat,\n And the ferryman, clad in his tip-top coat,\n And his wee little fairies were safely afloat!\n Then ding, ding, ding,\n And kling, kling, kling,\n How the coppers did ring\n In the tin pitcherling.\n\n Off, then, went the boat, at first very pleasantly,\n Smoothly, and so forth; but after a while\n It swayed and it sagged this and that way, and presently\n Chest after chest, and pile after pile,\n Of the little folks' goods began tossing and rolling,\n And pitching like fun, beyond fairy controlling.\n O Mab! if the hubbub were great before,\n It was now some two or three million times more.\n Crash! went the wee crocks and the clocks; and the locks\n Of each little wee box were stove in by hard knocks;\n And then there were oaths, and prayers, and cries:\n \"Take care\"--\"See there\"--\"O, dear, my eyes!\"\n \"I am killed!\"--\"I am drowned!\"--with groans and sighs,\n Till to land they drew.\n\n \"Yeo-ho! Pull to\n Tiller-rope thro' and thro'!\"\n And all's right anew.\n \"Now, jump upon shore, ye queer little oddities.\n (Eh, what is this? . . . where are they, at all?\n Where are they, and where are their tiny commodities?\n Well, as I live\" . . .) He looks blank as a wall,\n Poor ferryman! Round him and round him he gazes,\n But only gets deeplier lost in the mazes\n Of utter bewilderment. All, all are gone,\n And he stands alone,\n Like a statue of stone,\n In a doldrum of wonder. He turns to steer,\n And a tinkling laugh salutes his ear,\n With other odd sounds: \"Ha, ha, ha, ha!\n Fol lol! zidzizzle! quee quee! bah! bah!\n Fizzigig-giggidy! pshee! sha sha!\"\n \"O ye thieves, ye thieves, ye rascally thieves!\"\n The good man cries. He turns to his pitcher,\n And there, alas, to his horror perceives\n That the little folk's mode of making him richer\n Has been to pay him with withered leaves!\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE WORLD\n\n \"The world is wet,\" said the little frog;\n \"What isn't water is mostly bog.\"\n \"Oh, not at all!\" said the little fly;\n \"It's full of spiders, and very dry!\"\n \"The world is dark,\" said the moth polite,\n \"With ruddy windows and bows of light.\"\n \"My poor young friend, you have much to learn:\n The world is green,\" said the swaying fern.\n \"O listen to me,\" sang the little lark:\n \"It's wet and dry, and it's green and dark.\n To think that's all would be very wrong;\n It's arched with blue, and it's filled with song.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nFANCIFUL STORIES\n\n * * * * *\n\nWHITE MAGIC\n\n Blind folks see the fairies,\n Oh, better far than we,\n Who miss the shining of their wings\n Because our eyes are filled with things\n We do not wish to see.\n They need not seek enchantment\n From solemn printed books,\n For all about them as they go\n The fairies flutter to and fro\n With smiling friendly looks.\n\n Deaf folk hear the fairies,\n However soft their song;\n Tis we who lose the honey sound\n Amid the clamor all around\n That beats the whole day long.\n But they with gentle faces\n Sit quietly apart;\n What room have they for sorrowing\n While fairy minstrels sit and sing\n Close to each listening heart?\n\n--From London _Punch_.\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BROWNIES\n\nBY JULIANA HORATIA EWING\n\nI\n\n\n\"Children are a burden,\" said the tailor, as he sat on his bench\nstitching away.\n\n\"Children are a blessing,\" said the kind lady in the window.\n\nIt was the tailor's mother who spoke. She was a very old woman and\nnearly helpless. All day she sat in a large armchair knitting rugs.\n\n\"What have my two lads ever done to help me?\" continued the tailor,\nsadly. \"They do nothing but play. If I send Tommy on an errand, he\nloiters. If I ask him to work, he does it so unwillingly that I would\nrather do it myself. Since their mother died I have indeed had a hard\ntime.\"\n\nAt this moment the two boys came in, their arms full of moss which\nthey dropped on the floor.\n\n\"Is there any supper, grandmother?\" asked Tommy.\n\n\"No, my child, only some bread for breakfast to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Oh, grandmother, we are so hungry!\" and the boy's eyes filled with\ntears.\n\n\"What can I do for you, my poor children?\" said the good woman.\n\n\"Tell us a story, please, so that we can forget we are hungry. Tell us\nabout the brownie that used to live in your grandfather's house. What\nwas he like?\"\n\n\"Like a little man, they say.\"\n\n\"What did he do?\"\n\n\"He came early in the morning before any one in the house was awake,\nand lighted the fire and swept the room and set out the breakfast. He\nnever would be seen and was off before they could catch him. But they\noften heard him laughing and playing about the house.\"\n\n\"Did they give him any wages, grandmother?\"\n\n\"No, my dear, he did the work for love. They always set a pan of clear\nwater for him, and now and then a bowl of bread and milk.\"\n\n\"Oh, grandmother, where did he go?\"\n\n\"The Old Owl in the woods knows; I do not. When I was young many\npeople used to go to see the Old Owl at moon-rise, and ask her what\nthey wanted to know.\"\n\n\"How I wish a brownie would come and live with us!\" cried Tommy.\n\n\"So do I,\" said Johnny.\n\n\"Will you let us set out a pan of water for the brownie, father?\"\nasked Tommy.\n\n\"You may set out what you like, my lad, but you must go to bed now.\"\n\nThe boys brought out a pan of water. Then they climbed the ladder to\nthe loft over the kitchen.\n\nJohnny was soon in the land of dreams, but Tommy lay awake thinking\nhow he could find a brownie and get him to live in the house. \"There\nis an owl that lives in the grove,\" he thought. \"It may be the Old Owl\nherself. When the moon rises, I'll go and find her.\"\n\n\nII\n\n\nThe moon rose like gold and went up in the heavens like silver. Tommy\nopened his eyes and ran to the window. \"The moon has risen,\" said he,\n\"and it is time for me to go.\" Downstairs he crept softly and out into\nthe still night.\n\n\"Hoot! hoot!\" cried a voice from the grove near the house.\n\n\"That's the Old Owl,\" thought Tommy. He ran to a big tree and looked\nup. There he saw the Old Owl, sitting on a branch and staring at him\nwith yellow eyes.\n\n\"Oh, dear!\" said Tommy, for he did not like the Owl very well.\n\n\"Come up here! Come up here!\" she cried.\n\nTommy climbed the tree and sat face to face with her on the big\nbranch.\n\n\"Now, what do you want?\" said the Owl.\n\n\"Please,\" said Tommy, \"I want to know where to find the brownies, and\nhow to get one to come and live with us.\"\n\n\"Oo-hoo! oo-hoo!\" said the Owl. \"That's it, is it? I know of three\nbrownies.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" said Tommy. \"Where do they live?\"\n\n\"In your house,\" said the Owl.\n\n\"In our house! Whereabouts? Why don't they work?\" cried Tommy.\n\n\"One of them is too little,\" said the Owl.\n\n\"But why don't the other two do something?\" said Tommy. \"Nobody does\nany work at our house except father.\"\n\n\"They are idle, they are idle,\" said the Old Owl.\n\n\"Then we don't want them,\" said Tommy. \"What is the use of having\nbrownies in the house if they do nothing to help us?\"\n\n\"Perhaps they don't know what to do.\"\n\n\"I wish you would tell me where to find them,\" said Tommy. \"I could\ntell them what to do.\"\n\n\"Could you, could you? Oo-hoo! oo-hoo!\" and Tommy could not tell\nwhether the Owl was hooting or laughing.\n\n\"Of course I could. They might get up early in the morning and sweep\nthe house, and light the fire, and spread the table before my father\ncomes downstairs.\"\n\n\"So they might!\" said the Owl. \"Well, I can tell you where to find one\nof the brownies, and he can tell you where to find his brother. Go to\nthe north side of the pond, where the moon is shining on the water,\nturn yourself around three times, while you say this charm:\n\n '_Twist me and turn me and show me the elf_--\n I looked in the water and saw_--'\n\nThen look in the water, and think of a word which rhymes with 'elf'\nand makes the charm complete.\"\n\nTommy knew the place very well. He ran to the north side of the pond,\nand turning himself around three times, he repeated the charm. Then he\nlooked in and saw--himself.\n\n\"Why, there's no one but myself. I can't think of the right word. What\ncan it be? I'll go back and ask the Old Owl,\" thought Tommy. And back\nhe went. There sat the Owl as before.\n\n\"Oo-hoo,\" said she, as Tommy climbed up. \"Did you find out the word?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Tommy, \"I could find no word that rhymes with 'elf' except\n'myself.'\"\n\n\"Well, that is the word! Now, do you know where your brother is?\"\n\n\"In bed in the loft,\" said Tommy.\n\n\"Then all your questions are answered. Good night;\" and the Old Owl\nbegan to shake her feathers.\n\n\"Don't go yet,\" said Tommy, humbly; \"I don't understand you. I am not\na brownie, am I?\"\n\n\"Yes, you are, and a very idle one, too,\" said the Old Owl. \"All\nchildren are brownies.\"\n\n\"But are there really any brownies except children?\" inquired Tommy,\nin a dismal tone.\n\n\"No, there are not. Now listen to me, Tommy. Little people can do only\nlittle things. When they are idle and mischievous, they are called\nboggarts, and they are a burden to the house they live in. When they\nare thoughtful and useful, they are brownies, and are a blessing to\nevery one.\"\n\n\"I'll be a brownie,\" said Tommy. \"I won't be a boggart. Now I'll go\nhome and tell Johnny.\"\n\n\"I'll take you home,\" said the Owl, and in a moment Tommy found\nhimself in bed, with Johnny sleeping by his side.\n\n\"How quickly we came,\" said Tommy to himself. \"But is it morning? That\nis very strange! I thought the moon was shining. Come, Johnny, get up,\nI have a story to tell you.\"\n\n\nIII\n\n\nWhile his brother was rubbing his eyes Tommy told him of his visit to\nthe Old Owl in the grove.\n\n\"Is that all true?\" asked Johnny.\n\n\"It is all just as I tell you, and if we don't want to be boggarts, we\nmust get up and go to work.\"\n\n\"I won't be a boggart,\" said Johnny, and so the two brownies crept\nsoftly down the ladder into the kitchen. \"I will light the fire,\"\nsaid Tommy. \"And you, Johnny, can dig some potatoes to roast for\nbreakfast.\" They swept the room and laid the table. Just as they were\nputting the potatoes in a dish they heard footsteps.\n\n\"There's father,\" said Tommy; \"we must run.\"\n\nThe poor tailor came wearily down the stairs. Morning after morning he\nhad found an untidy room and an empty table. But now when he entered\nthe kitchen, he looked around in great surprise. He put his hand out\nto the fire to see if it was really warm. He touched the potatoes and\nlooked at the neat room. Then he shouted, \"Mother, mother! boys, boys,\nthe brownie has come!\"\n\nThere was great excitement in the small house, but the boys said\nnothing. All day the tailor talked about the brownie. \"I have often\nheard of Little People,\" he said, \"but this is wonderful. To come and\ndo the work for a pan of cold water! Who would have believed it?\"\n\nThe boys said nothing until they were both in bed. Then Tommy said:\n\"The Old Owl was right, and we must stick to the work if we don't\nwant to be boggarts. But I don't like to have father thinking that we\nare still idle. I wish he knew that we are the brownies.\"\n\n\"So do I,\" said Johnny.\n\nDay after day went by and still the boys rose early, and each day they\nfound more and more to do. The brownies were the joy of the tailor's\nlife.\n\nOne day a message came for the tailor to go to a farmhouse several\nmiles away. The farmer gave him an order for a suit of clothes, and\npaid him at once. Full of joy at his good fortune, he hurried home. As\nhe came near the house, he saw that the garden had been weeded. \"It's\nthat brownie!\" he said; \"and I shall make a suit of clothes for him.\"\n\n\"If you make clothes for the brownie, he will leave the house,\" said\nthe grandmother.\n\n\"Not if the clothes are a good fit, mother. I shall measure them by\nTommy, for they say the brownies are about his size.\"\n\nAt last a fine new suit with brass buttons was finished and laid out\nfor the brownie.\n\n\"Don't the clothes look fine?\" said Tommy, when he came down in the\nmorning; \"I'll try them on.\"\n\nThe tailor rose earlier than usual that day, for he wished to catch a\nglimpse of the brownies. He went softly downstairs. There was Johnny\nsweeping the floor, and Tommy trying on the new suit.\n\n\"What does this mean?\" shouted the father.\n\n\"It's the brownies,\" said the boys.\n\n\"This is no joke,\" cried the tailor, angrily. \"Where are the real\nbrownies, I say?\"\n\n\"We are the only brownies, father,\" said Tommy.\n\n\"I can't understand this. Who has been sweeping the kitchen lately, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"We have,\" said the boys.\n\n\"Who gets breakfast and puts things in order?\"\n\n\"We do! we do!\" they shouted.\n\n\"But when do you do it?\"\n\n\"Early in the morning before you come down.\"\n\n\"But if you do the work, where is the brownie?\"\n\n\"Here,\" cried the boys; \"we are the brownies, and we are sorry that we\nwere boggarts so long.\"\n\nThe father was delighted to find how helpful his boys had become. The\ngrandmother, however, could hardly believe that a real brownie had not\nbeen in the house. But as she sat in her chair day after day watching\nthe boys at their work, she often repeated her favorite saying,\n\"Children are a blessing.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF PETER PAN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were three children named Wendy, John, and\nMichael, who lived with their father and mother in London. One evening\nthe father and mother were invited to a party, and the mother, after\nlighting the dim lamp in the nursery and kissing them good-night, went\naway. That evening a little boy climbed in through the window, whose\nname was Peter Pan. He was a curious little fellow, very conceited,\nvery forgetful, and yet very lovable. The most remarkable thing about\nhim was that he never grew up. There came flitting in through the\nwindow with him his fairy, whose name was Tinker Bell. Peter Pan woke\nall the children up, and after he had sprinkled fairy dust on their\nshoulders, he took them away to the Neverland, where he lived with a\nfamily of lost boys. Tinker Bell was jealous of the little girl Wendy,\nand she hurried ahead of Peter Pan and persuaded the boys that Wendy\nwas a bird who might do them harm, and so one of the boys shot her\nwith his bow and arrow.\n\nWhen Peter Pan came and found Wendy lying lifeless upon the ground in\nthe woods he was very angry, but he was also very quick-witted. So\nhe told the boys that if they would build a house around Wendy he was\nsure that she would be better. So they hurried to collect everything\nthey had out of which they could make a house. Though she was not yet\nstrong enough to talk, they thought perhaps she might sing the kind of\nhouse she would like to have, so Wendy sang softly this little verse:\n\n \"I wish I had a pretty house,\n The littlest ever seen,\n With funny little red walls\n And roof of mossy green.\"\n\nWhen the house was done Peter Pan took John's hat for the chimney, and\nthe little house was so pleased to have such a capital chimney that\nsmoke at once began to come out through the hat. All that night Peter\nPan walked up and down in front of Wendy's house, to watch over her\nand keep her from danger while she slept.\n\nAll these children lived in an underground cave, and the next day,\nwhen Wendy got well, they all went down into the cave and Wendy agreed\nto be their mother and Peter their father. They had many good times\ntogether. They also had some exciting adventures with the red-skins\nand with a pirate named Captain Hook and his crew. After a time the\nredskins became their friends, and Peter rescued his family from the\npirates' ship.\n\nOne day Wendy and her brothers realized that they had been away so\nlong that perhaps their mother had forgotten them and shut the window\nof the nursery so that they could not get back. They decided to hurry\nhome. When they reached home Peter Pan was before them, and he closed\nthe window so that they could not get back. But when he heard the\nchildren's mother singing such a sad song inside, his heart was made\ntender and he opened the window and the children crept back safely\ninto their mother's arms. Wendy's mother invited Peter Pan to stay\nand be her child, but Peter was so afraid that he would have to go\nto school and grow up and be a man that he went back to his home in\nfairy-land.\n\nWendy promised to go once a year and stay a few days with Peter Pan\nand clean house and mend his clothes. Let us picture them in the\nlittle house that was built for Wendy, which the fairies had put up in\nthe branches of a pine-tree. The birds are singing in their nests and\nin the branches, and far below the clouds you can see the land and\nthe sea. Wendy is sewing for Peter and Peter Pan is playing his pipes\nwhile she works. When night comes the woods are full of flashing\nlights like little stars, because the fairies are flitting around the\nhouse where Peter and Wendy live, and are singing to them as they go\nto sleep.\n\nIn a few days Wendy will go back to John and Michael to tell them what\na good time she had on her visit in the little house in the woods.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nSIR LARK AND KING SUN\n\nBY GEORGE MACDONALD\n\n \"Good morrow, my lord!\" in the sky alone,\n Sang the lark as the sun ascended his throne.\n \"Shine on me, my lord; I only am come,\n Of all your servants, to welcome you home.\n I have flown right up, a whole hour, I swear,\n To catch the first shine of your golden hair.\"\n\n \"Must I thank you then,\" said the king, \"Sir Lark,\n For flying so high and hating the dark?\n You ask a full cup for half a thirst:\n Half was love of me, and half love to be first.\n There's many a bird makes no such haste,\n But waits till I come; that's as much to my taste.\"\n\n And King Sun hid his head in a turban of cloud,\n And Sir Lark stopped singing, quite vexed and cowed;\n But he flew up higher, and thought, \"Anon\n The wrath of the king will be over and gone;\n And his crown, shining out of its cloudy fold,\n Will change my brown feathers to a glory of gold.\"\n\n So he flew--with the strength of a lark he flew;\n But, as he rose, the cloud rose too;\n And not one gleam of the golden hair\n Came through the depths of the misty air;\n Till, weary with flying, with sighing sore,\n The strong sun-seeker could do no more.\n\n His wings had had no chrism of gold;\n And his feathers felt withered and worn and old;\n He faltered, and sank, and dropped like a stone.\n And there on his nest, where he left her, alone\n Sat his little wife on her little eggs,\n Keeping them warm with wings and legs.\n\n Did I say alone? Ah, no such thing!\n Full in her face was shining the king.\n \"Welcome, Sir Lark! You look tired,\" said he;\n \"_Up_ is not always the best way to me.\n While you have been singing so high and away,\n I've been shining to your little wife all day.\"\n\n He had set his crown all about the nest,\n And out of the midst shone her little brown breast;\n And so glorious was she in russet gold,\n That for wonder and awe Sir Lark grew cold.\n He popped his head under her wing, and lay\n As still as a stone, till King Sun was away.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE IMPS IN THE HEAVENLY MEADOW\n\nBY KATE E. BUNCE (after RUDOLF BAUNBACH)\n\n To Heaven's Meadows, bright with flowers and sunshine,\n The little children go,\n When they have had enough of life's sad dreaming,\n And leave the earth below.\n\n But as they had not time to learn their lessons\n Before they went away,\n There is a school, where all the angel children\n Must work four hours a day.\n\n With golden pencils upon silver tablets,\n They copy fairy tales,\n And learn to keep their halos bright and shining,\n And sing, and play their scales.\n\n And twice a week they glide with merry laughter\n All down the Milky Way,\n And homeward in the evening wander softly\n Upon a sunset ray.\n\n But Sunday is the day they love and long for,\n Then all the children go\n And play from morn till night within a meadow\n Where flowers in thousands grow.\n\n The meadow is not green, but blue and golden\n The flowers like dewdrops bright;\n When it is night, they burn and glow and glisten--\n Men call them stars of light.\n\n Through Heaven's gate they all must pass to find it,\n Where Peter with the key\n Keeps watch and warns the little angels kindly\n How good they all must be.\n\n They must not fly about or run too quickly,\n Nor go too far away,\n And when upon his golden key he calls them,\n Then they must all obey.\n\n One day it was so very hot in Heaven\n That good St. Peter slept,\n And when the little angel children saw it,\n Away they quickly crept.\n\n Ah! then they ran and flew about with laughter,\n And fluttered far and wide,\n So far they wandered that of Heaven's meadow\n They reached the other side.\n\n They came to where the strong, tall, wooden paling\n Shuts all that place away,\n Where idle, careless, mischief-loving, naughty,\n The Imps of Darkness stray.\n\n And there the angels stopped, devoutly wishing\n Some opening there might be,\n So that they might each one in turn peep through it,\n And see what they could see.\n\n But not a chink or hole, for all their seeking,\n No gleam of light pierced through,\n So with their little wings outspread and eager,\n Right to the top they flew.\n\n And looking down they saw with awe and wonder.\n Imps all as black as soot;\n Each had two horns and each a tail to play with,\n And hoof, instead of foot.\n\n They heard the rustle of the angel feathers,\n They felt the cool sweet air,\n And, lifting up their little coal-black faces,\n They saw Heaven's children there.\n\n Then with one voice they cried: \"Oh! angel Children,\n You look so good and fair,\n We pray you, let us come up into Heaven\n And play a little there.\n\n \"We will not tweak nor pull your shining feathers,\n But be so very good;\n We will not try and steal your little halos,\n But all do as we should.\"\n\n Then quick they flew away for Jacob's ladder,\n (Peter was still asleep),\n And placed it safely, where from Heaven to Imp-land\n The way was dark and steep.\n\n Then every little imp, with shouts and laughter,\n Helped by an angel's hand,\n Scrambled right over the great wooden paling,\n And stood in Heaven's land.\n\n They all, with air sedate and pious faces,\n Discreetly walked around,\n Their tails like trains upon their arms upholding,\n And eyes upon the ground.\n\n The little angels fluttered round in rapture,\n And showed the lovely flowers,\n And bade them listen to the thrilling voices\n Of birds in Heaven's bowers.\n\n And gently led them by the crystal streamlets,\n Bade them on dewdrops feast,\n And showed them where the silver moon was rising\n To light them from the east.\n\n Alas! when all the little demons saw her,\n The moon, so large and round,\n They all began to roar, and growl, and gibber,\n And leap from off the ground;\n\n And mocked the great white moon with ugly faces,\n Turned somersaults in air,\n And when the angels prayed them cease, in terror,\n They vowed they did not care.\n\n They trampled down the grass in Heaven's Meadow,\n They tore the flowers about,\n And flung them on the earth beyond the paling,\n With gibe, and jeer, and shout.\n\n They chased the birds that sang among the tree-tops\n And hushed their music sweet,\n They pulled the little angels' tender feathers\n And trod upon their feet.\n\n Then to the good St. Peter cried the angels\n To help them in their pain,\n And if he would but this one time forgive them,\n They would be good again.\n\n Then rose St. Peter from his peaceful dreaming--\n An angry saint was he--\n He wrung his hands and clasped his head in horror,\n And seized his golden key.\n\n Then blew a mighty blast in wrath upon it;\n Back all the angels flew,\n And wide he threw the door of heaven open,\n And thrust the children through.\n\n And then he called two great and powerful angels,\n The strongest of the race,\n To chase the little demons out of Heaven,\n And clear the holy place.\n\n They gathered up the little imps in armfuls,\n Bore them with mighty stride,\n And flung them over the strong wooden paling\n Down on the other side.\n\n And though they fought and lashed their tails and whimpered,\n And kicked with might and main,\n To Heaven's Meadow, bright with sun and flowers\n They never came again.\n\n For two long months the little angel-children\n Were not allowed to play\n Before the door of Heaven in the meadow,\n But stayed in all the day.\n\n And when again they sought the Heavenly Meadow\n Each child with humble mind\n Must lay aside its little shining halo,\n And leave its wings behind.\n\n But all the flowers that on that day of sorrow,\n Flung out and scattered were,\n Took root and bloom again in earth's green meadows,\n As daisies white and fair.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIRTHDAY HONORS OF THE FAIRY QUEEN[1]\n\nBY HAPGOOD MOORE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in green Erin a little girl by the name\nof Nora. Her home was a small thatched cottage of stone beside the\nbrae at the foot of a mountain, in the midst of a woodland so deep\nthat in the summer time when the trees were full the sun got its rays\ninside but a few hours of the day and you could see of the star-dust\nthat covers the fields of the sky no piece larger than the palm of\nyour hand.\n\nIt was a famous meeting-place for the fairies, this haunt at the foot\nof the mountain by the stream, for the Little Folk from the heather\nabove used nightly to foregather in the meadow with the Little Folk\nfrom the woodland below, and there they danced the long night through\namong the shamrocks. But although Nora had heard about the fairies\nfrom her grandmother, who sat all day tending the peat fire, and\nsomething more about them from her mother when of an evening after\nsupper she had time to speak to Nora of herself when she was a girl,\nyet Nora had never in all her life set eyes upon one of these feasters\nof the forest. For the fairies, mind you, come only to two kinds of\nfolk, to those who believe in them and to those who need them. Now\nNora believed in the fairies all right, all right, but she had never\nbeen in need of them until now, at this time that I'm telling ye of.\n\nNow this same Nora was one of these lasses that is a wee bit gloomery.\nAnd ye don't know what this same gloomery is? Well, she was at times\nhindered by a rainy mornin' disposition. So it was plain enough to the\nfairies that she was in some need of them.\n\nOne day Nora went into the deep of the wildwood a few steps below her\nmother's cottage to a trysting-place where she often resorted when she\nhad the time from her daily duties.\n\nShe had been unusually heckled that morning, as all of us are at\ntimes, by being obliged to do many things for the which she had little\nliking. The spot was a favorite one of Nora's.\n\nThere was a shelter of rocks above, almost like a cave or roof, and\nbelow there was a tiny stream of water that ran out of a spring in the\nback of the hill and sang its way down the slope to the brae below.\nIn this pool Nora nearly always laid some field flowers, because they\nkept fresher there than anywhere else. From the low seat that Nora had\nmade out of a stone in the back of her shelter she looked out into a\nsunny place in the woods, around which stood, as if they were pillars\nof a woodland palace, six gray beeches.\n\nNow upon this sunny afternoon that I am speaking of, hardly had Nora\nreclined upon her bench, feeling a bit drowsy no doubt with the heat,\nyet not quite sleepy you know, listening to a robin singing with\nthe voice of Eden, when she heard a light tapping on the wall of the\nlargest beech, the one that was nearest to the place where she was\nlying. At first when she heard this sound she thought that it was the\nrobin redbreast that she had noticed hopping up and down in the open\nplace in the sunlight, and yet she knew well that robins do not drum\nupon the bark of trees like woodpeckers. So she jumped lightly up and\nran to the tree, and at once she was aware that the tapping was from\ninside the tree. And between the taps that were no louder than those\nof a branch against a window-pane she distinctly heard a very tiny\nvoice.\n\n\"How tiny was the voice, Michael aroon?\"\n\nYou are asking me how tiny was the voice? Let me see if I can tell\nyou. You have heard the sound of the rivulet when it falls upon the\nmossy stones in the pasture by the bar-way? Well, it was about as\nloud as the echo of that if you should walk thirty paces away and then\nlisten. So Nora had to put her ear up close against the breast of the\nbeech-tree and even then the voice sounded no louder than the sound\nof a beech-leaf when it falls from a branch into the moss-bed. But she\ncould hear what that voice was saying, and it was these words: \"Nora,\nmy darling, turn the key and let me out.\" Nora looked around in\namazement, but sure enough, there on the breast of the beech, about\nthe height of her heart, was a small key of the color of the bark,\nthat she had never noticed before, though she had hugged that\nbeech-tree every morning of her life. So Nora turned the key at once,\nand out stepped----\"\n\n\"A fairy, Michael?\"\n\nYes, better than a fairy, a dryad, that is a fairy of the tree. For a\nfairy of a tree is as much higher in rank than a fairy of the meadow\nas a duchess is than a goose-girl. She was about the size of the robin\nredbreast, and she was dressed all in green, except a lovely cloak of\nred that, when it was folded about her, made her look very much indeed\nlike the redbreast himself, and she was no bit bigger than the robin\neither.\n\n\"Nora Mavourneen,\" said the dryad, \"I have been noticing that you\nseem a bit sad-hearted of late, and for no reason either that anybody\nknows, so if you don't mind I will take you with me for a walk this\nafternoon through fairyland, and we will see if we cannot do something\nto restore your good spirits again.\"\n\nAt these words Nora danced for joy, and you would never have been able\nto guess that she had ever known a downhearted moment. So the dryad\nclapped her tiny hands three times, and out of the open door into the\nbeech-tree stepped a little gnome who came and bowed low before them,\nholding in his hands a silver salver on which lay a little pellet.\n\n\"How little was the pellet, uncle?\"\n\n\"Well, what would you say if I told you that it was as small as a\nhumming bird's egg? Oh, you think it was smaller than that? Well, how\nabout the seed of a coriander? No? Then I will tell you the truth. It\nwas as small as the gnat that gets into your eye, that feels as big as\na rat.\"\n\nSo Nora took the pellet from the platter and thanked the gnome kindly\nand she ate it down, and no sooner had she swallowed it than she was\nno bigger than the dryad herself.\n\nSo the dryad took her by the hand and they walked gaily into the\nbeech-tree door, and the door shut behind them.\n\nThey went down and down a lot of winding stairs that were lighted only\nby small windows in the bark of the tree that Nora had never noticed\nbefore and could never find afterward. It was very cool and pleasant,\nfor they could hear the sap go singing on its way from the roots up\nto the branches and leaves and when a summer shower went by they could\nhear the raindrops as they went singing down the trunk outside to the\nroots. After they had reached the foot of the stairs they walked for\na long way through a cool corridor. It was not quite dark, for Little\nPeople stood at every turn who seemed to be doing what fireflies do\non summer nights in the grass, and each one whistling to himself as\nhe held his softly shaded lantern aloft. Down the side passages Nora\ncould see thousands of tiny miners at work. And what do you think they\nare doing?\n\n\"Digging for gold and diamonds.\"\n\nThey were tending the woodland plants that hang their golden blossoms\nin the pathways and carrying up the dewdrops that sparkle like\ndiamonds from their leaves in the daybreak. And it was pleasant to see\nthem work, for they were all singing.\n\nBy and by Nora and the dryad came to a place where there was a\nbrighter light ahead, and as they drew nearer Nora could see that they\nhad come to the bank of the pond that is below Nora's cottage, only\nthat they were under the surface, looking up through a light so soft\nthat it cast no shadows. And now the dryad took Nora's hand and she\nfound herself in a little boat, no bigger than a leaf, sailing across\nthe pond but still beneath its surface. And here she saw on every\nhand, working amid the mire and the mirk, such jolly little divers,\nwho were feeding the fish and tending the pond lily roots, and, like\nall the others, singing at their tasks.\n\nNow you will know of course that they were on their way to the home of\nthe fairy queen. And it was but a short while before they were there.\nI need not tell you, children, how lovely is her palace, with its\ngolden floor and silver walls and its hangings of the colors of the\nrainbow. Nor need I say how beautiful is her majesty herself, with\nwings like the most splendid butterfly and a gown like the morning and\na face like the sunshine.\n\nIt seems that Nora had come upon the queen's birthday, and she was\njust giving the birthday honors. So Nora and the dryad stood in the\nbackground and watched the scene. Around the throne stood gallant\nfairy gentlemen clad like beetles and dragon flies for splendor\nand ladies whose long gowns hung like the light on the waterfall of\nLoughmareen. But to the amazement of Nora, those who came forward to\nreceive the honors were for the most part dressed like workmen and\nmany of them were bent with hard labor. As each advanced and made\nobeisance, the royal herald read the exploit for which the rank\nof knighthood was about to be conferred. For one he read: \"To our\nfaithful servant who covered the lilies of Moira from the attack of\nthe Frost King\"; and to another: \"To the gallant yeoman who watered\nthe grain field of Kilvellin\"; and to still another: \"To him who dug\nthe trench by the roadside and kept safe the highway to Throselwait\nFair.\" And as each came forward the trumpets pealed in triumph, and\nafter a gold star had been pinned upon the new knight's breast the\ngentlemen and ladies of the court greeted them with hearty reverence.\nAnd Nora looked in the smiling face of the dryad, but said nothing.\n\nThen Nora herself, in a breathless moment of fear, was presented to\nthe queen, and the queen kissed her daintily just above her lips on\nboth sides. And suddenly Nora found herself back on her stony bench by\nthe spring with the branches of the beech-tree waving silently before\nher.\n\n\"Oh, mothereen and grandmotherkin,\" she cried as soon as she got home,\nand she ran home all the way--\"let me tell you about the wonderful\nvisit I have been making out in the wildwood.\" And after she had\ntold her story, mothereen said, \"I think Nora has been dreaming,\" but\ngrandmotherkin said, \"No, daughter, I think our little acushla has had\nher eyes opened the day.\" Then Nora in triumph showed the two dimples\nwhere the fairy queen had kissed her. And do you know, my darlings, I\ncannot but think that she told the truth after all, for ever after,\nif one kissed Nora upon those two dimples or even touched them or even\nlooked at them, she would break into the sweetest smile, and she never\nwas gloomerin' or lowerin' any more.\n\n[Footnote 1: First published in _John Martin's Book_. Reprinted by\nspecial permission.]\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF BEST BOOKS OF FAIRY TALES AND CHILDREN'S POEMS\n\n * * * * *\n\nANDERSEN, HANS CHRISTIAN ... _Fairy Tales_\nANDERSEN, HANS CHRISTIAN ... _Wonder Stories_\nASBJ\u00d6RNSEN, P. C. ... _Fairy Tales from the Far North_\nBALLARD, SUSAN ... _Fairy Tales from Far Japan_\nBARING-GOULD, S. .... _The Crock of Gold_\nBRENTANO, CLEMENS ... _New Fairy Tales_\nBREWER, DAVID H. ... _Adventures in Fairyland_\nBROWNE, F. ... _The Wonderful Chair_\nBUNGE, JOHN THACKERY ... _Fairy Tales: Their Origin and Meaning_\nCARMEN SYLVA ... _A Real Queen's Fairy Tales_\nCARROLL, LEWIS ... _Alice in Wonderland_\nCARROLL, LEWIS ... _Through the Looking Glass_\nCHISHOLM, LOUEY ... _The Golden Staircase_\nCOATES, H. T. ... _Children's Book of Poetry_\nCROKER, T. CROFTON ... _Fairy Legends and Traditions of Ireland_\nCURTIN, JEREMIAH ... _Tales of the Fairies and of the Ghost World_\nEWING, J. H. ... _The Brownies_\nFRERE, M. ... _Old Deccan Days, or Hindoo Fairy Legends_\nGRIMM, THE BROTHERS ... _Fairy Tales_\nHARRISON, MRS. BURTON ... _The Old Fashioned Fairy Book_\nHERFORD, OLIVER ... _Child's Primer of Natural History_\nHAUFF, WILLIAM ... _Fairy Tales_\nHIGGINSON, THOMAS W. ... _Tales of the Enchanted Islands of the Atlantic_\nHORWITZ, CARRIE NORRIS ... _Fairy Lore_\nINGELOW, JEAN ... _Fairy Stories_\nJACOBS, JOSEPH ... _Celtic Fairy Tales (2 vols.)_\nJACOBS, JOSEPH ... _English Fairy Tales (2 vols.)_\nJACOBS, JOSEPH ... _Indian Fairy Tales_\nJERROLD, W. ... _The Reign of King Oberon_\nKEIGHTLEY, T. ... _Fairy Mythology_\nKENNEDY, H. A. ... _The New World Fairy Book_\nKUPPER, GRACE H. ... _Stories of Long Ago_\nLABOULAYE, E. ... _Fairy Tales_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _Nursery Rhyme Book_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _The Arabian Nights_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _The Green Fairy Book_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _The Red Fairy Book_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _The Yellow Fairy Book_\nLANG, ANDREW ... _The Princess Nobody_\nLEAR, EDWARD ... _Nonsense Books_\nLOCKWOOD, INGERSOLL ... _Baron Trump's Marvelous Underground Journey_\nMULLNEY, IONE ... _Fairy Tales from Afar_\nMULOCK, DINAH M. ... _Adventures of a Brownie_\nMULOCK, DINAH M. ... _The Little Lame Prince_\nMUNKITTRICK, J. ... _The Moon Prince_\nMOTHER GOOSE ... _Nursery Rhymes_\nNAAKE, J. T. ... _Slavonic Fairy Tales_\nNICHOLS, IDA PRESTON ... _Princess Girlikin and other Fairy Tales_\nOZAKI, YEI THEODORA ... _The Japanese Story Book_\nPAULDING, JAMES KIRKE ... _A Christmas Gift from Fairyland_\nPYLE, HOWARD ... _The Wonder Clock_\nRHYS, ERNEST ... _Fairy Gold_\nROLFE, W. F. ... _Fairy Tales in Prose and Verse_\nSTOCKTON, F. R. ... _The Floating Prince_\nSTEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS ... _Child's Garden of Verses_\nSTODDARD, R. H. ... _Adventures in Fairyland_\nWAHLENBERG, ANNA ... _Swedish Fairy Tales_\nWATERHOUSE, A. J. ... _Children's Poems_\nWIGGIN, KATE DOUGLAS, AND NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH ... _Tales of Laughter_\nWIGGIN, KATE DOUGLAS, AND NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH ... _Magic Casements_\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\nTOC:\nvii [corrected from v]\nxi [missing; added]\n\n\nPage 47: '?' corrected to '.'\n\n\"When the dogs run after me, I can jump into a tree and\nsave myself.\"\n\nPage 49: replaced missing opening quote--\n\n ...\"You see very well he is greater than I, for he stops me and makes me\ndraw back.\"\n\nPage 62: replaced missing closing quote--\n\n\"So many stars are there in the sky as there are holes\nin this paper; now count them.\n\nPage 114: replaced missing end quote--\n\n\"Rise, little lie-a-beds,\" she said, \"and...\n\nPage 120: replaced missing opening quote--\n\n\"Good day, Father Hollenthe. How do you do?\"\n\nPage 147: replaced opening quote--\n\"It's a boy, I'm sure it is,\" he continued...\n\nPage 153: '.' corrected to '?'\n\"... but how could little Thumbelina ever care for him? ...\"\n\nPage 408: replaced missing end quote--\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the Fox, ...\n\nPage 461: replaced missing end quote--\n\n\"... Under my power Awashanks shall become\na beautiful trout.\"\n\nPage 473: replaced missing opening quote--\n\n\"He that seeketh, shall find, and to him that knocketh shall be\nopened,\" says an old Arab proverb.","title":"Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories: The Young Folks Treasury, Volume 1","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":172064}