{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_29386/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_29386","id":"gutenberg_29386","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29386","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's literature"],"text":"Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Anne Storer and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note: [=o] = macron above letter\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\n BOYS AND GIRLS BOOKSHELF\n\n _A Practical Plan of Character Building_\n\n COMPLETE IN SEVENTEEN VOLUMES\n\n I Fun and Thought for Little Folk\n II Folk-Lore, Fables, and Fairy Tales\n III Famous Tales and Nature Stories\n IV Things to Make and Things to Do\n V True Stories from Every Land\n VI Famous Songs and Picture Stories\n VII Nature and Outdoor Life, Part I\n VIII Nature and Outdoor Life, Part II\n IX Earth, Sea, and Sky\n X Games and Handicraft\n XI Wonders of Invention\n XII Marvels of Industry\n XIII Every Land and its Story\n XIV Famous Men and Women\n XV Bookland--Story and Verse, Part I\n XVI Bookland--Story and Verse, Part II\n XVII Graded and Classified Index\n\n\n THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY\n INCORPORATED\n _New York_\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE SUNSET FAIRIES\n FROM A DRAWING BY FLORENCE MARY ANDERSON]\n\n\n\n\n BOYS AND GIRLS\n BOOKSHELF\n\n _A Practical Plan of Character Building_\n\n Little Folks' Section\n\n [Illustration: INSTRUCTIVE PLAY ... VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE\n The Four Fold Life\n MENTAL PHYSICAL SOCIAL MORAL]\n\n Prepared Under the Supervision of\n THE EDITORIAL BOARD _of the_ UNIVERSITY SOCIETY\n\n Volume II\n FOLK-LORE, FABLES, AND FAIRY TALES\n\n THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY\n INCORPORATED\n _New York_\n\n\n\n\n Copyright, 1920, By\n THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.\n\n Copyright, 1912, 1915, By\n THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.\n\n\n _Manufactured in the U. S. A._\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThis volume is devoted to a choice collection of the standard and\nnew fairy-tales, wonder stories, and fables. They speak so truly and\nconvincingly for themselves that we wish to use this introductory page\nonly to emphasize their value to young children. There are still those\nwho find no room in their own reading, and would give none in the\nreading of the young, except for facts. They confuse facts and truth,\nand forget that there is a world of truth that is larger than the mere\nfacts of life, being compact of imagination and vision and ideals. Dr.\nHamilton Wright Mabie convinced us of this in his cogent words.\n\n\"America,\" he said, \"has at present greater facility in producing\n'smart' men than in producing able men; the alert, quick-witted\nmoney-maker abounds, but the men who live with ideas, who care for the\nprinciples of things, and who make life rich in resource and interest,\nare comparatively few. America needs poetry more than it needs\nindustrial training, though the two ought never to be separated. The\ntime to awaken 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.\"\n\nThe value of the fairy-tale and the wonder-tale is that they tell about\nthe magic of living. Like the old woman in Mother Goose, they \"brush\nthe cobwebs out of the sky.\" They enrich, not cheapen, life. Plenty of\nthings do cheapen life for children. Most movies do. Sunday comic\nsupplements do. Ragtime songs do. Mere gossip does. But fairy stories\nenhance life.\n\nThey are called \"folk-tales,\" that is, tales of the common folk. They\nwere largely the dreams of the poor. They consist of fancies that have\nillumined the hard facts of life. They find animals, trees, flowers,\nand the stars friendly. They speak of victory. In them the child is\nmaster even of dragons. He can live like a prince, in disguise, or,\nif he be uncomely, he may hope to win Beauty after he is free of his\nmasquerade.\n\nWonder-stories help make good children as well as happy children.\nIn these stories witches, wolves, and evil persons are defeated or\nexposed. Fairy godmothers are ministers of justice. The side that the\nchild wishes to triumph always does triumph, and so goodness always is\nmade to seem worth-while.\n\nAlmost every fairy-tale contains a test of character or shrewdness or\ncourage. Sharp distinctions are made, that require a child of parts to\ndiscern.\n\nAnd the heroes of these nursery tales are much more convincing than\nprecepts or golden texts, for they impress upon the child not merely\nwhat he ought to do, but what nobly has been done. And the small\nhero-worshiper will follow where his admirations lead.\n\nFables do much the same, and by imagining that the animals have arrived\nat human speech and wisdom, they help the child to think shrewdly and\nin a friendly way, as if in comradeship with his pets and with our\nbrothers and sisters, the beasts of the field and forest.\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS\n PAGE\n\n INTRODUCTION vii\n\n\n #THE OLD FAIRY TALES#\n\n THE ROAD TO FAIRY LAND 2\n By Cecil Cavendish\n THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS GOLDENLOCKS 3\n PRINCE HYACINTH AND THE DEAR LITTLE PRINCESS 7\n By Madame Leprince De Beaumont\n CINDERELLA 10\n By Charles Perrault\n THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 13\n Adapted from the Brothers Grimm\n BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 15\n PRINCE DARLING 20\n RUMPELSTILTSKIN 26\n Adapted from the Grimm Brothers\n RAPUNZELL, OR THE FAIR MAID WITH GOLDEN HAIR 28\n By the Brothers Grimm\n SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED 30\n By the Brothers Grimm\n HANSEL AND GRETHEL 34\n By the Brothers Grimm\n\n\n #STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS#\n\n THE FLAG-BEARER 39\n By Carolyn Sherwin Bailey\n JOHNNY CHUCK FINDS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD 40\n By Thornton W. Burgess\n LITTLE WEE PUMPKIN'S THANKSGIVING 41\n By Madge A. Bingham\n THE COMING OF THE KING 42\n By Laura E. Richards\n THE LITTLE PIG 44\n By Maud Lindsay\n THE TRAVELS OF THE LITTLE TOY SOLDIER 44\n By Carolyn Sherwin Bailey\n WHAT HAPPENED TO DUMPS 45\n By Carolyn Sherwin Bailey\n THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS 47\n By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow\n BALLAD OF THE LITTLE PAGE 48\n By Abbie Farwell Brown\n THE SNOW-IMAGE 51\n By Nathaniel Hawthorne\n THE CASTLE OF GEMS 55\n By Sophie May\n THE HEN THAT HATCHED DUCKS 58\n By Harriet Beecher Stowe\n THE BALLAD OF PIPING WILL 63\n By Anna Hempstead Branch\n LITTLE ANNIE'S DREAM, OR THE FAIRY FLOWER 68\n By Louisa M. Alcott\n COMPANIONS 71\n By Helen Hunt Jackson\n PRINCE LITTLE BOY 73\n By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D.\n THE BEE-MAN OF ORN 77\n By Frank R. Stockton\n THE POT OF GOLD 82\n By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman\n\n\n #VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES#\n\n THE FAIRY THORN 87\n By Samuel Ferguson\n FAIRY DAYS 88\n By William Makepeace Thackeray\n THE FAIRY QUEEN 89\n THE SEA PRINCESS 89\n LONG AGO 89\n THISTLE-TASSEL 90\n By Florence Harrison\n SONG OF THE FAIRY 90\n By William Shakespeare\n THE FAIRIES 92\n By William Allingham\n OH, WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR HEADS? 92\n By Thomas Haynes Bayly\n\n\n #MODERN FAIRY TALES#\n\n THE ELF OF THE WOODLANDS 93\n Retold from Richard Hengist Horne by\n William Byron Forbush\n PRINCESS FINOLA AND THE DWARF 95\n By Edmund Leamy\n THE STRAW OX 100\n THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF THE FEARLESS HEART 103\n By B. J. Daskam\n MOPSA THE FAIRY 110\n Retold from Jean Ingelow\n THE LINE OF GOLDEN LIGHT, OR THE LITTLE BLIND\n SISTER 114\n By Elizabeth Harrison\n A FAIRY STORY ABOUT A PHILOSOPHER'S STONE WHICH\n WAS LOST 118\n By M. Bowley\n THE BAD TEMPER OF THE PRINCESS 124\n By Marian Burton\n THE FLYING SHIP 130\n ROBIN OF THE LOVING HEART 133\n By Emma Endicott Marean\n IN SPRING 137\n A FAMOUS CASE 138\n By Theodore C. Williams\n\n\n #OLD-FASHIONED STORIES#\n\n THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN 139\n THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES 140\n EDWY AND THE ECHO 143\n THE LITTLE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A\n VINEGAR-BOTTLE 146\n THE SNOW QUEEN 148\n THE MASTER-MAID 158\n CAP O' RUSHES 163\n FULFILLED 165\n KING GRISLY-BEARD 166\n Retold from the Brothers Grimm\n\n\n #FABLES#\n\n THE FOX AND THE GOAT 172\n THE TWO FROGS 172\n THE DOG IN THE MANGER 172\n THE STAG AT THE POOL 172\n THE WAR-HORSE AND THE ASS 172\n THE FROGS WHO WANTED A KING 172\n THE OX AND THE FROG 173\n THE HERON WHO WAS HARD TO PLEASE 174\n THE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE WOLF 175\n THE ASS, THE COCK, AND THE LION 175\n THE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX 175\n THE HORSE AND THE STAG 175\n THE LION AND THE BOAR 175\n THE HUNTSMAN AND THE FISHERMAN 175\n THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN 176\n THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE 177\n THE FOX AND THE WOOD-CUTTER 178\n THE LION AND OTHER BEASTS ON A HUNT 178\n THE EAGLE AND THE ARROW 178\n THE MOUSE AND THE FROG 178\n THE WOLF AND THE GOAT 178\n THE BAD DOG 178\n THE KID AND THE WOLF 178\n THE FOX AND THE GRAPES 179\n THE FOX AND THE RAVEN 180\n THE BULL AND THE GOAT 181\n THE RAVEN AND THE SWAN 181\n THE THIEF AND THE DOG 181\n THE HORSE AND THE LOADED ASS 181\n THE ASS WITH THE SALT 181\n THE COCK AND THE JEWEL 181\n THE FOX WHO HAD LOST HIS TAIL 181\n THE EAGLE AND THE JACKDAW 182\n THE HEN AND THE GOLDEN EGGS 183\n THE DOG AND THE ASS 184\n THE NORTH WIND AND THE SUN 184\n THE FOX AND THE LION 184\n THE CROW AND THE PITCHER 184\n THE ASS AND HIS SHADOW 184\n THE WOLF AND THE CRANE 184\n THE FOX AND THE CRANE 185\n THE CAT AND THE MONKEY 186\n THE DANCING MONKEYS 187\n THE HARES AND THE FROGS 187\n THE LION AND THE GNAT 187\n THE FROGS AND THE BULLS 187\n THE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES 187\n BELLING THE CAT 187\n A MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS 188\n THE TORTOISE AND THE EAGLE 190\n THE PEACOCK AND JUNO 190\n THE LION, THE FOX, AND THE ASS 190\n THE FATHER AND HIS SONS 190\n THE DOVE AND THE ANT 191\n THE FOX AND THE CAT 192\n THE ANTS AND THE GRASSHOPPER 193\n\n\n #FABLES FROM INDIA#\n Adapted by Ramaswami Raju\n\n THE GLOW-WORM AND THE DAW 194\n THE FOX AND THE VILLAGERS 194\n THE FROG AND THE SNAKE 194\n THE ASSEMBLY OF ANIMALS 194\n THE COCK AND HIS THREE HENS 194\n THE BLACK DOG AND THE WHITE DOG 195\n THE ELEPHANT AND THE APE 195\n THE CROW AND THE DAWN 195\n THE LION AND THE GOAT 195\n THE SUNLING 196\n THE MUSHROOM AND THE GOOSE 196\n THE FABLES OF PILPAY THE HINDU 196\n THE FOX AND THE HEN 196\n THE THREE FISHES 196\n THE FALCON AND THE HEN 197\n THE KING WHO GREW KIND 197\n\n\n #MODERN FABLES#\n\n THE HORSES' COUNCIL 197\n Adapted from John Gay\n THE OAK AND THE REED 198\n Adapted from the French of La Fontaine\n THE ADVANTAGE OF KNOWLEDGE 198\n Adapted from the French of La Fontaine\n THE TORRENT AND THE RIVER 198\n Adapted from the French of La Fontaine\n THE TOMTIT AND THE BEAR 199\n By the Brothers Grimm\n WHY JIMMY SKUNK WEARS STRIPES 200\n By Thornton W. Burgess\n HOW CATS CAME TO PURR 202\n By John Bennett\n\n\n #STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA#\n\n THE GREEDY CAT 207\n GUDBRAND ON THE HILLSIDE 210\n PORK AND HONEY 212\n HOW REYNARD OUTWITTED BRUIN 212\n THE COCK AND THE CRESTED HEN 213\n THE OLD WOMAN AND THE TRAMP 213\n THE OLD WOMAN AND THE FISH 216\n THE LAD AND THE FOX 217\n ADVENTURES OF ASHPOT 217\n NORWEGIAN BIRD-LEGENDS 219\n THE UGLY DUCKLING 222\n By Hans Christian Andersen\n THE WILD SWANS 227\n By Hans Christian Andersen\n TAPER TOM 235\n THE BOY WHO WENT TO THE NORTH WIND 236\n THE WONDERFUL IRON POT 238\n THE SHEEP AND PIG WHO SET UP HOUSEKEEPING 239\n DOLL-IN-THE-GRASS 241\n BOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS 242\n VIGGO AND BEATE 244\n Translated by Mrs. Gudrun Thorne-Thompson\n\n\n #STORIES FROM IRELAND#\n\n THE FOUR WHITE SWANS 251\n THE MISHAPS OF HANDY ANDY 258\n THE GREEDY SHEPHERD 263\n THE COBBLERS AND THE CUCKOO 264\n THE MERRY COBBLER AND HIS COAT 268\n THE STORY OF CHILD CHARITY 270\n By Frances Browne\n THE SELFISH GIANT 272\n By Oscar Wilde\n\n\n #STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN#\n\n THE BATTLE OF THE BIRDS, OR THE GRATEFUL\n RAVEN AND THE PRINCE 275\n JACK AND THE BEANSTALK 277\n Retold by Mary Lena Wilson\n TOM THUMB 280\n Retold by Laura Clarke\n WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT 283\n WILD ROBIN 287\n Retold by Sophie May\n THE STORY OF MERLIN 291\n\n\n #JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES#\n\n THE CUB'S TRIUMPH 293\n CHIN-CHIN KOBAKAMA 294\n THE WONDERFUL MALLET 296\n THE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE HOUSELESS CROWS 298\n THE STORY OF ZIRAC 298\n MY LORD BAG OF RICE 302\n THE LITTLE HARE OF OKI 305\n Retold by B. M. Burrell\n THE LITTLE BROTHER OF LOO-LEE LOO 309\n By Margaret Johnson\n THE CURIOUS CASE OF AH-TOP 314\n THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL 316\n HASHNU THE STONECUTTER 316\n THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL 318\n THE STORY OF THE WILLOW PATTERN PLATE 319\n Retold by M. Alston Buckley\n\n\n #BR'ER RABBIT AND HIS NEIGHBORS#\n\n BROTHER FOX'S TAR BABY 321\n Translated by Joel Chandler Harris\n THE RABBIT AND THE PEAS 322\n By Mrs. M. R. Allen\n BR'ER RABBIT'S FISHING 325\n BR'ER POSSUM LOVES PEACE 326\n BR'ER FOX TACKLES OLD BR'ER TARRYPIN 327\n HOW COUSIN WILDCAT SERVED BR'ER FOX 329\n PLANTATION STORIES 332\n By Grace MacGowan Cooke\n\n\n #AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES#\n\n ROBIN REDBREAST 337\n THE THREE WISHES 338\n THE JOKER 340\n LITTLE MOCCASIN'S RIDE ON THE THUNDER-HORSE 342\n By Colonel Guido Ilges\n WAUKEWA'S EAGLE 348\n By James Buckham\n A HURON CINDERELLA 352\n By Howard Angus Kennedy\n THE FIRE BRINGER 356\n By Mary Austin\n SCAR FACE 358\n WHY THE BABY SAYS \"GOO\" 359\n Retold by Ehrma G. Filer\n\n\n * * * * *\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE OLD FAIRY TALES]\n\n\n\n\n THE ROAD TO FAIRY LAND\n\n\n The day is dull and dreary,\n And chilly winds and eerie\n Are sweeping through the tall oak trees that fringe the orchard lane.\n They send the dead leaves flying,\n And with a mournful crying\n They dash the western window-panes with slanting lines of rain.\n My little 'Trude and Teddy,\n Come quickly and make ready,\n Take down from off the highest shelf the book you think so grand.\n We'll travel off together,\n To lands of golden weather,\n For well we know the winding road that leads to Fairy Land.\n\n A long, long road, no byway,\n The fairy kings' broad highway,\n Sometimes we'll see a castled hill stand up against the blue,\n And every brook that passes,\n A-whispering through the grasses,\n Is just a magic fountain filled with youth and health for you;\n And we'll meet fair princesses\n With shining golden tresses,\n Some pacing by on palfreys white, some humbly tending sheep;\n And merchants homeward faring,\n With goods beyond comparing,\n And in the hills are robber bands, who dwell in caverns deep.\n\n Sometimes the road ascending,\n Around a mountain bending,\n Will lead us to the forests dark, and there among the pines\n Live woodmen, to whose dwelling\n Come wicked witches, telling\n Of wondrous gifts of golden wealth. There, too, are lonely mines.\n But busy gnomes have found them,\n And all night work around them,\n And sometimes leave a bag of gold at some poor cottage door.\n There waterfalls are splashing,\n And down the rocks are dashing,\n But we can hear the sprites' clear call above the torrent's roar.\n\n Where quiet rivers glisten\n We'll sometimes stop and listen\n To tales a gray old hermit tells, or wandering minstrel's song.\n We'll loiter by the ferries,\n And pluck the wayside berries,\n And watch the gallant knights spur by in haste to right a wrong.\n Oh, little 'Trude and Teddy,\n For wonders, then, make ready,\n You'll see a shining gateway, and, within, a palace grand,\n Of elfin realm the center;\n But pause before you enter\n To pity all good folk who've missed the road to Fairy Land.\n\n _Cecil Cavendish_\n\n\n\n\n THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS GOLDENLOCKS\n\n\nThere was once a lovely Princess who had such beautiful golden hair\nthat everyone called her Goldenlocks. She possessed everything that she\nwanted: she was lovely to look at, she had beautiful clothes, and great\nwealth, and besides all these, she was the Princess in a large kingdom.\n\nIn the country next to that of Goldenlocks there ruled a rich and\nhandsome young King. When he heard about the charming Princess he\ndecided that he wanted her for his Queen. The question was, of course,\nhow to make her feel that she wanted him for her husband!\n\nThis young King did not go about his wooing after the manner of people\nthat you and I know. He called one of the chief men of his court, and\nsaid: \"You have heard of the lovely Princess Goldenlocks. I have\ndetermined that she shall be my bride. I want you to go and see her;\ntell her about me, and beg her to become my Queen.\"\n\nThen the King ordered a great number of horses brought for the\nambassador, and he directed his men to send more than a hundred\nservants also. You see, in that way he hoped to be able to impress\nthe Princess with his wealth and importance.\n\nThe King was conceited, and did not think for a moment that any\nPrincess, no matter how beautiful, would refuse to become his wife. So\nhe ordered his servants to make great preparations for her coming, and\nto refurnish the palace. He told his ambassador to be sure to bring the\nPrincess back with him.\n\nThe King waited with great impatience for the return of the ambassador,\nwho had quite a long journey to make before he could get to the court\nof the Princess Goldenlocks. Then one day he appeared in the King's\ncourt.\n\n\"Where is my lovely bride?\" the King asked eagerly, expecting the\nambassador to say that she was in the next room, and would come in\nat once.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" replied the ambassador, very sadly, \"I could not bring\nthe Princess to you. She sent you her thanks for your offer, but she\ncould not accept the gifts which you sent her, and she will not marry\nyou.\"\n\n\"What!\" the King exclaimed indignantly, as he fingered the pearls and\ndiamonds which he had sent Goldenlocks, and which she had sent back. \"I\nand my jewels are not good enough for the Princess Goldenlocks!\" And\nthe King cried and cried, just as if he had not been grown up.\n\nAll the people in the court were greatly disturbed because the\nambassador had failed in his mission. They felt themselves injured\nto think that Goldenlocks would not marry their King. There was one\ncourtier, named Charming, who felt especially bad, for he was very fond\nof the King. He even said one day that he was certain that if the King\nhad only let him go to Goldenlocks, she would have consented to a royal\nmarriage.\n\nNow, there were in that court some very jealous men, who thought that\nCharming was altogether too great a favorite with the King. When they\nheard him say that he could have won Goldenlocks for his master, they\ngot together and agreed to tell the King that Charming was making silly\nboasts.\n\n\"Your majesty,\" one of them said, \"Charming told us that if you had let\nhim go to Goldenlocks she would never have refused to marry you. He\nthinks that he is so attractive that the Princess would have fallen in\nlove with him immediately, and would have consented to go anywhere he\nwished with him.\"\n\n\"Villain!\" the King exclaimed. \"And I thought he was my friend.\"\n\nOf course, you and I know that if the King himself had been any sort of\na friend he would never have doubted the good faith of Charming just\nbecause someone else spoke evil of him. But what did the King do but\norder Charming put into a dungeon and given no food or water, so that\nthe poor fellow should die of hunger!\n\nPoor Charming was bewildered when the King's guards came to carry him\noff to prison. He could not imagine why the King had turned against him\nin this unfair way. It made him miserable enough to be in a cold, damp\ncell, with no food to eat, and no water to drink except that from a\nlittle stream which flowed through the cell. He had no bed--just a\ndirty pile of straw. But all these discomforts were as nothing to the\nworry he had as to why the King, whom he had always liked, had treated\nhim so unjustly. He used to talk to himself about it. One day he said,\nas he had thought dozens of times before:\n\n\"What have I done that my kindest friend, to whom I have always been\nfaithful, should have turned against me and left me to die in this\nprison cell?\"\n\nAs luck would have it, the King himself was passing by the dungeon\nwhere Charming was confined when he spoke these words, and the King\nheard them. Perhaps the King's better self had been telling him that he\nought at least to have given Charming a chance to tell his side of the\nstory before condemning him to die. I do not know. At any rate when he\nheard this voice coming out of the dungeon he insisted on going in at\nonce to see Charming.\n\n\"Your Gracious Majesty,\" said Charming, \"I could not believe that it\nwas really your wish that I be confined in this cell. All my life I\nhave had no wish but to serve you faithfully.\"\n\n\"Charming!\" the King exclaimed, \"can this be true! They told me that\nyou have made fun of me because the Princess Goldenlocks had refused\nto marry me.\"\n\n\"I, Your Majesty, mocked you?\" Charming was astonished. \"That is not\ntrue. It is true, however, that I said that if you would send me to\nGoldenlocks I believed I could persuade her to become your wife,\nbecause I know so many good things about you which I would tell her. I\ncould paint such a lovely picture of you that she could not possibly\nhelp falling in love with your Majesty.\"\n\nThen the King knew that he had been deceived by his courtiers, and he\nfelt that he had been very silly to believe them. He took Charming with\nhim to the palace right away, and, after having the best supper which\nthe cooks could prepare served for Charming, the King asked him to go\nand see whether it was not yet possible to persuade Goldenlocks to\nmarry him.\n\nCharming did not set off with any such retinue of servants as had\nthe other ambassador. The King gave him letters to the Princess, and\nCharming picked out one present for her--a lovely scarf embroidered\nwith pearls.\n\nThe next morning Charming started out. He had armed himself with a\nnotebook and pencil. As he rode along he thought much about what he\nmight say to the Princess that would make her want to marry his King.\n\nOne day as he rode along he saw a deer stretching out its neck to reach\nthe leaves of the tree above it. \"What a graceful creature!\" thought\nCharming. \"I will tell Goldenlocks that the King is as graceful as a\ndeer.\" Then on the road ahead he saw a great shadow, cast by an eagle\nin its flight. \"How swift and strong that eagle is,\" he mused. \"I will\ntell the Princess that the King is like the eagle in strength and\nswiftness and majesty.\"\n\nCharming got off his horse and sat down by a brook to jot down his\nthoughts in his notebook. As he opened his book to write he saw,\nstruggling in the grass by his side, a golden carp. The fish had jumped\ntoo high when it tried to catch a fly, and had landed on the ground.\nThe poor creature was helpless to get back into the water, and was\ngasping for breath; fish, you know, cannot live long out of water.\nCharming felt so sorry for the carp that he could not write until he\nhad put it carefully back into the brook.\n\n\"Thank you, Charming,\" said a voice from the water. Charming had never\nheard a fish speak before, and you can imagine that he was mightily\nsurprised. \"Some day I will repay this kindness.\"\n\nFor several days after this adventure Charming journeyed on. Then, one\nmorning, he heard a great crying in the air, above him. A huge vulture\nwas pursuing a raven. The vulture was drawing closer and closer to its\nprey--was almost upon it. Charming could not stand idly by and watch\nthe helpless little raven fight against its enormous enemy. He drew his\nbow, and shot an arrow straight into the vulture's heart. The raven\nflew down, and as it passed Charming it said gratefully: \"I have you to\nthank that I am not now in that great vulture's beak. I will remember\nyour great kindness.\"\n\nNot long afterward, Charming came upon a great net which men had\nstretched in the woods in order to catch birds. A poor owl was caught\nin it. \"Men are cruel creatures,\" thought Charming. \"I don't think it\nis very kind or praiseworthy to set a trap for these creatures who do\nno one any harm.\" And Charming proceeded to cut the net and set the owl\nfree.\n\nThe owl flapped its wings noisily as it flew out of the net. \"Thank\nyou, Charming,\" it said. \"You know I can't see well in the daylight,\nand I did not notice this trap. I shall never forget that I have you\nto thank for my being alive.\"\n\nCharming found Goldenlocks surrounded by a splendor greater than any\nhe had ever seen before. Pearls and diamonds were so plentiful that he\nbegan to think they must grow on trees in this kingdom! It worried him\na little, for he thought he would have to be very clever to persuade\nGoldenlocks to leave so much luxury.\n\nWith fear and trembling Charming presented himself at the door of\nPrincess Goldenlocks' palace on the morning after his arrival. He had\ndressed himself with the greatest care in a handsome suit of crimson\nvelvet. On his head was a hat of the same brocaded material, trimmed\nwith waving ostrich plumes, which were fastened to his hat with a clasp\nset with flashing diamonds. A messenger was sent at once to the\nPrincess to announce his arrival.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" the messenger said. \"There is the most handsome\ngentleman sent from a King awaiting you below. He is dressed like a\nPrince, and he is the most charming person I have ever seen. In fact,\nhis very name is Charming.\"\n\n\"His name sounds as if I would like him,\" said the Princess, musingly.\n\"I will see him presently. Honora, bring me my best blue satin\ngown--the one embroidered with pearls.\"\n\nThen the Princess had a fresh wreath of pink roses made to wind in her\nlovely golden hair; Honora pushed tiny blue satin slippers on the feet\nof her mistress, and handed her an exquisite silver lace fan. Then\nGoldenlocks was all ready. She assumed her most princess-like manner,\nand entered the great throne room. You may be sure, however, that she\nstopped on the way, in the hall of mirrors, to see that she really\ndeserved all the compliments which her handmaids gave her.\n\nWhen Goldenlocks was seated on the throne of gold and ivory, and her\nhandmaids were posed gracefully about her, playing idly on guitars,\nCharming was brought in. He was as though struck dumb by the beauty\nwhich greeted his eyes. He forgot for the moment all that he had\nintended to say--all the long harangue prepared so carefully on the\nway. Then he took a deep breath, and began, just as he had intended,\nwith:\n\n\"Most lovely Princess Goldenlocks, I have come to ask your hand in\nmarriage for the most noble King in the world.\"\n\nI think his speech must have been very interesting, for Goldenlocks did\nnot take her eyes from Charming's face during the hour in which\nCharming described the glories of his King.\n\n\"What, O most gracious Princess, may I take to the King as an answer\nto his plea?\" Charming finally inquired.\n\n\"Tell him,\" said Goldenlocks kindly, \"I believe that no King who was\nnot worthy and charming himself could have an ambassador like you.\"\n\n\"But,\" she added after a pause, \"tell him also that Goldenlocks may not\nmarry. I have taken a solemn vow that I will not marry until a ring\nwhich I lost in the brook a month ago is found. I valued that ring more\nthan my whole kingdom, but it cannot be found.\"\n\nCharming went away disheartened, because he did not have the slightest\nidea how to go about finding the Princess's ring. Luckily for him, he\nhad brought with him a cunning little dog named Frisk. Frisk was a\nlight-hearted creature. He always was hopeful. So he said to Charming:\n\n\"Why, master, let us not give up hope without even trying. Let's go\ndown to the brook to-morrow morning and see if we can't find the\nPrincess's bothersome ring.\"\n\nSo, bright and early the next day, Charming and Frisk walked slowly\nalong the edge of the brook which flowed near the palace, hunting for\nthe ring. They walked for about half an hour, when a voice spoke to\nthem out of nowhere:\n\n\"Well, Charming, I have kept my promise. You once saved my life, you\nknow. Now I have brought you the Princess Goldenlocks' ring.\"\n\nCharming looked up and down and all around in great amazement. Then, at\nhis very feet, he saw the golden carp which he had rescued a few days\nbefore; and, best of all, in the carp's mouth was the Princess's gold\nring.\n\nWith joy in his heart Charming rushed to the palace, with Frisk dancing\nalong at his heels. Goldenlocks was disappointed to hear that he had\ncome back so soon. \"He must have given up already,\" she told her\nhandmaids, as she made ready to receive Charming.\n\nWhen Charming entered the Princess's throne room he did not say a word;\nhe simply handed her the ring.\n\n\"My ring!\" the Princess called out in amazement. \"You have found it!\"\nAnd she seemed delighted that Charming had succeeded.\n\n\"Now,\" said Charming, with something of assurance, \"you will make ready\nto return to my King with me, will you not?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" the Princess cried, as if she had never thought of such a\nthing. \"I can never marry until an awful enemy of mine is killed. There\nis a fierce giant who lives near here. He once asked me to marry him,\nand I, of course, refused. It made him very angry. He swore vengeance\nupon me, and I am afraid to leave my kingdom while he is alive. I think\nthe creature--his name is Galifron--can really have no human heart at\nall, for he can kill two or three or four persons a day without feeling\nanything but joy in his crimes.\"\n\nCharming shuddered at this appalling picture of his enemy-to-be.\n\n\"If it be in my power so to do, Princess Goldenlocks, I will slay your\nenemy.\" With these words Charming turned on his heels and left the\npalace.\n\nFrisk realized that Charming was worried about the difficult new task\nwhich Goldenlocks had given him. \"Never you worry, Master,\" he said\ncheerfully. \"If you will but attack the monster I will bark and bite at\nhis heels until he won't know what he is doing. He will be so confused\nthat I know you will be able to conquer him.\"\n\nCharming rode up to the giant's castle boldly enough. He knew the\nmonster was coming toward him, because he could hear the crash of\ntrees which broke under the huge feet. Then he heard a voice roaring\nlike thunder:\n\n \"Poof, woof, clear the way!\n Bing, bang, 'tis to-day!\n Zip, zook, I must slay!\n Whizz, fizz, the King's pet, Charming!\n Pish, tush, isn't it alarming!\"\n\nCharming trembled, and he could feel the cold perspiration stand out on\nhis brow. But he took a deep breath, and shouted as loud as he could\n(which was not nearly as loud as the giant could):\n\n \"Galifron, take warning,\n For your day is ending.\n Prepare to find that Charming\n Is really quite alarming!\"\n\nGalifron was so high above Charming that he had to hunt quite hard\nbefore he could discover who was saying these words. When he saw the\nlittle fellow standing ready to fight him he laughed, and yet he was\nangry. He lifted his great club and would have knocked the life out\nof Charming in a trice, but suddenly he could not see. He roared with\npain, for a raven had plucked out his eyes. Galifron beat wildly in\nthe air, trying to protect himself from the bird; meanwhile Charming\nseized his opportunity, and it was only a moment until Galifron lay at\nCharming's feet. Only Galifron was so big that Charming had to stand on\ntop of him in order to make sure that he was really dead.\n\nTo the Princess, Charming rode back as fast as his horse could carry\nhim. In front of him, on his saddle, he carried the giant's head. The\nPrincess was taking her afternoon nap, when she was awakened by loud\nshouts of \"Hail, Charming! Hail, conqueror of hideous Galifron!\"\n\nGoldenlocks could scarcely believe her ears. She rushed to the front of\nthe palace, and sure enough, there she was greeted by Charming, bearing\nher enemy's head.\n\nIt seemed as if such a feat of daring should have been enough to\nsatisfy even Goldenlocks.\n\n\"Now, fair Princess, will you not return with me to my King?\"\n\n\"Charming, I cannot,\" said the Princess; and to Charming her words\nsounded like the stroke of doom. \"Before I marry I must have some\nwater from the spring of eternal youth. This spring is at the bottom\nof Gloomy Cavern--a great cave not far from here, which is guarded by\ntwo fierce dragons. If I have a flask from that spring I shall always\nremain young and beautiful. I should never dare to marry without its\nprotection.\"\n\n\"Beautiful Goldenlocks, you could never be anything but young and\nbeautiful; but I will none the less try to fulfill your mission.\"\n\nEven though Charming had just conquered a giant he did not feel very\ncomfortable at the idea of having to find his way past two dragons\ninto a dark and gloomy cavern. He approached the cavern with much\ndetermination, but with many misgivings. When Frisk saw the black smoke\nbelching out of the rocks at the entrance of the cavern the dog shook\nall over with fear; and I have been told that when Charming saw Frisk\nrun off and try to hide, he himself would have been very glad if he\ncould have run away, too. But being a man, he, of course, had to be\nbrave; so he set his teeth and approached the cave.\n\nThen he saw the first dragon--a huge, slimy creature, all yellow and\ngreen, with great red claws, and a tail which seemed to Charming to be\nnearly a mile long.\n\nCharming turned back and called to Frisk. \"Dear Frisk,\" he said sadly,\n\"I know I shall never see the light of day again if I enter this\ncavern. Wait here for me until nightfall; then, if I have not come\nback, go and tell the Princess that I have lost my life trying to win\nfor her eternal youth and beauty. Then tell the King that I did my best\nfor him, but failed.\"\n\nCharming turned again to attack the dragon.\n\n\"Wait a minute, Charming!\"\n\nCharming looked around to see who spoke these words. \"It's I, Charming,\nthe owl you rescued from the net the fowlers set for us poor birds. Let\nme take Goldenlocks' flask, and I will fetch the water for you. I know\nevery turn of that dark cavern, and the dragons will not notice whether\nI pass them or not.\" And the owl took the flask out of Charming's hand,\nfluttered into the cavern, and disappeared.\n\n\"Here you are, Charming. You see I did not forget your kindness to me.\"\nWith these words the owl handed to Charming the flask full of water\nfrom the magic spring. Charming was so happy that he could hardly find\nwords to thank the owl. He rode straight to Goldenlocks with the\nwonderful liquid.\n\n\"Beautiful Goldenlocks, here is the water you asked me to get for\nyou. My mind cannot conceive of anything, however, which would add\nto your beauty. I do know, however, something which would add to your\nhappiness. I have found your ring, slain your enemy, brought you the\nsecret of youth and health; now will you not come with me to my King,\nwho loves you so much that he will make you the happiest woman on\nearth?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Goldenlocks, softly. Her answer really surprised Charming\nvery much, because he had come to think that she would never cease to\nfind new tasks for him to perform. She gave orders at once for the\nnecessary preparations for the journey, and in a few days she and\nCharming and little Frisk set out for home, with a great retinue of\nservants, of course.\n\nThe King greeted them with the greatest enthusiasm. He proclaimed a\nholiday throughout his kingdom, and every one feasted and danced.\n\nBut, strange to say, the Princess Goldenlocks found herself daily\nthinking more and more, not of the King, but of Charming.\n\nOne day Charming found himself once more in prison, bound hand and\nfoot. The King thought this would be a good way to rid himself of his\nrival.\n\nGoldenlocks used to beg the King to set Charming free, but that only\nmade things worse. Little Frisk was Charming's only comfort; he used\nto take him all the court news.\n\n\"Maybe,\" said the King to himself one day, \"the reason Goldenlocks\nprefers Charming to me is that I am not beautiful enough to suit her. I\nbelieve I will try some of that water of eternal beauty and health that\nshe is always talking about.\"\n\nWithout a word to anyone the King stole into the Queen's room and\nhunted about until he found the flask of water. He bathed his face in\nthe water and stood in front of a mirror to watch the change. A few\nhours later the Queen found him sound asleep. She could not awaken him,\nand they sent for the court physician; he could not rouse the King.\n\"The King,\" the physician told the Queen, \"is dead.\"\n\nNow this is what had happened. One day when the Princess's maid Honora\nwas cleaning her room she knocked over the flask which contained the\nprecious water, and broke it in a thousand pieces. Honora was terribly\nfrightened. She would not have let the Princess know what had occurred\nfor anything. She remembered seeing a flask in the King's room just\nlike the one she had broken, and she put it in the very spot from which\nshe had knocked the other.\n\nUnluckily for the King, the maid took a flask which contained a deadly\nwater which was used to \"do away\" with criminals.\n\n\"Woof, woof!\" said Frisk in the Queen's ear. \"Please have pity on my\npoor master, good Queen! Remember all he did for you, and how he is\nsuffering for your sake now!\"\n\nGoldenlocks at once left the room where the King's body lay in state\nand went to the tower where Charming was confined. She opened his cell\nand set him free. She put a golden crown on his head, and removed the\nchains from his wrists and ankles.\n\n\"King Charming!\" said the Queen, \"now you and I shall be married,\nand--live happily ever after!\"\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE HYACINTH AND THE DEAR LITTLE PRINCESS\n\nBY MADAME LEPRINCE DE BEAUMONT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a King who was deeply in love with a\nPrincess, but she could not marry anyone, because she was under an\nenchantment. So the King set out to seek a fairy, and asked what he\ncould do to win the Princess's love. The Fairy said to him:\n\n\"You know that the Princess has a great cat which she is very fond of.\nWhoever is clever enough to tread on that cat's tail is the man she is\ndestined to marry.\"\n\nThe King said to himself that this would not be very difficult; and he\nleft the Fairy, determined to grind the cat's tail to powder rather\nthan not tread on it at all.\n\nYou may imagine that it was not long before he went to see the\nPrincess; and puss, as usual, marched in before him, arching its back.\nThe King took a long step, and quite thought he had the tail under his\nfoot, but the cat turned round so sharply that he trod only on air. And\nso it went on for eight days, till the King began to think that this\nfatal tail must be full of quick-silver--it was never still for a\nmoment.\n\nAt last, however, he was lucky enough to come upon puss fast asleep and\nwith its tail conveniently spread out. So the King, without losing a\nmoment, set his foot upon it heavily.\n\nWith one terrific yell the cat sprang up and instantly changed into a\ntall man, who, fixing his angry eyes upon the King, said:\n\n\"You shall marry the Princess because you have been able to break the\nenchantment, but I will have my revenge. You shall have a son, who\nwill never be happy until he finds out that his nose is too long, and\nif you ever tell anyone what I have just said to you, you shall vanish\naway instantly, and no one shall ever see you or hear of you again.\"\n\nThough the King was horribly afraid of the enchanter, he could not help\nlaughing at this threat.\n\n\"If my son has such a long nose as that,\" he said to himself, \"he must\nalways see it or feel it; at least, if he is not blind or without\nhands.\"\n\nBut, as the enchanter had vanished, he did not waste any more time in\nthinking, but went to seek the Princess, who very soon consented to\nmarry him. But after all, they had not been married very long when the\nKing died, and the Queen had nothing left to care for but her little\nson, who was called Hyacinth. The little Prince had large blue eyes,\nthe prettiest eyes in the world, and a sweet little mouth, but, alas!\nhis nose was so enormous that it covered half his face. The Queen was\ninconsolable when she saw this great nose, but her ladies assured her\nthat it was not really as large as it looked; that it was a Roman nose,\nand you had only to open any history book to see that every hero has a\nlarge nose. The Queen, who was devoted to her baby, was pleased with\nwhat they told her, and when she looked at Hyacinth again, his nose\ncertainly did not seem to her _quite_ so large.\n\nThe Prince was brought up with great care; and, as soon as he could\nspeak, they told him all sorts of dreadful stories about people who had\nshort noses. No one was allowed to come near him whose nose did not\nmore or less resemble his own, and the courtiers, to get into favor\nwith the Queen, took to pulling their babies' noses several times every\nday to make them grow long. But, do what they would, they were nothing\nby comparison with the Prince's.\n\nWhen he grew older he learned history; and whenever any great prince or\nbeautiful princess was spoken of, his teachers took care to tell him\nthat they had long noses.\n\nHis room was hung with pictures, all of people with very large noses;\nand the Prince grew up so convinced that a long nose was a great beauty\nthat he would not on any account have had his own a single inch\nshorter!\n\nWhen his twentieth birthday was past, the Queen thought it was time\nthat he should be married, so she commanded that the portraits of\nseveral princesses should be brought for him to see, and among the\nothers was a picture of the Dear Little Princess!\n\nNow, she was the daughter of a great King, and would some day possess\nseveral kingdoms herself; but Prince Hyacinth had not a thought to\nspare for anything of that sort, he was so much struck with her beauty.\nThe Princess, whom he thought quite charming, had, however, a little\nsaucy nose, which, in her face, was the prettiest thing possible, but\nit was a cause of great embarrassment to the courtiers, who had got\ninto such a habit of laughing at little noses that they sometimes found\nthemselves laughing at hers before they had time to think; but this did\nnot do at all before the Prince, who quite failed to see the joke, and\nactually banished two of his courtiers who had dared to mention\ndisrespectfully the Dear Little Princess's tiny nose!\n\nThe others, taking warning from this, learned to think twice before\nthey spoke, and one even went so far as to tell the Prince that, though\nit was quite true that no man could be worth anything unless he had a\nlong nose, still, a woman's beauty was a different thing, and he knew a\nlearned man who understood Greek and had read in some old manuscripts\nthat the beautiful Cleopatra herself had a \"tip-tilted\" nose!\n\nThe Prince made him a splendid present as a reward for this good news,\nand at once sent ambassadors to ask the Dear Little Princess in\nmarriage. The King, her father, gave his consent; and Prince Hyacinth,\nwho, in his anxiety to see the Princess, had gone three leagues to meet\nher, was just advancing to kiss her hand when, to the horror of all who\nstood by, the enchanter appeared as suddenly as a flash of lightning,\nand, snatching up the Dear Little Princess, whirled her away out of\ntheir sight!\n\nThe Prince was left quite inconsolable, and declared that nothing\nshould induce him to go back to his kingdom until he had found her\nagain, and refusing to allow any of his courtiers to follow him, he\nmounted his horse and rode sadly away, letting the animal choose its\nown path.\n\nSo it happened that he came presently to a great plain, across which he\nrode all day long without seeing a single house, and horse and rider\nwere terribly hungry, when, as the night fell, the Prince caught sight\nof a light.\n\nHe rode up to it, and saw a little old woman, who appeared to be at\nleast a hundred years old.\n\nShe put on her spectacles to look at Prince Hyacinth, but it was quite\na long time before she could fix them securely, because her nose was so\nvery short.\n\nThe Prince and the Fairy (for that was who she was) had no sooner\nlooked at one another than they went into fits of laughter, and cried\nat the same moment, \"Oh, what a funny nose!\"\n\n\"Not so funny as your own,\" said Prince Hyacinth to the Fairy; \"but,\nmadam, I beg you to leave the consideration of our noses--such as they\nare--and to be good enough to give me something to eat, for I am\nstarving, and so is my poor horse.\"\n\n\"With all my heart!\" said the Fairy. \"Though your nose is so\nridiculous, you are, nevertheless, the son of my best friend. I loved\nyour father as if he had been my brother. Now _he_ had a very handsome\nnose!\"\n\n\"And pray, what does mine lack?\" said the Prince.\n\n\"Oh! it doesn't _lack anything_,\" replied the Fairy. \"On the contrary\nquite, there is only too much of it. But never mind, one may be a very\nworthy man though his nose is too long. I was telling you that I was\nyour father's friend; he often came to see me in the old times, and you\nmust know that I was very pretty in those days; at least, he used to\nsay so. I should like to tell you of a conversation we had the last\ntime I ever saw him.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said the Prince, \"when I have supped it will give me the\ngreatest pleasure to hear it; but consider, madam, I beg of you, that I\nhave had nothing to eat to-day.\"\n\n\"The poor boy is right,\" said the Fairy; \"I was forgetting. Come in,\nthen, and I will give you some supper, and while you are eating I can\ntell you my story in a very few words--for I don't like endless tales\nmyself. Too long a tongue is worse than too long a nose, and I remember\nwhen I was young that I was so much admired for not being a great\nchatterer. They used to tell the Queen, my mother, that it was so. For\nthough you see what I am now, I was the daughter of a great king. My\nfather--\"\n\n\"Your father, I dare say, got something to eat when he was hungry!\"\ninterrupted the Prince.\n\n\"Oh! certainly,\" answered the Fairy, \"and you also shall have supper\ndirectly. I only just wanted to tell you--\"\n\n\"But I really cannot listen to anything until I have had something\nto eat,\" cried the Prince, who was getting quite angry; but then,\nremembering that he had better be polite as he much needed the Fairy's\nhelp, he added:\n\n\"I know that in the pleasure of listening to you I should quite forget\nmy own hunger; but my horse, who cannot hear you, must really be fed!\"\n\nThe Fairy was very much flattered by this compliment, and said, calling\nto her servants:\n\n\"You shall not wait another minute, you are so polite, and in spite of\nthe enormous size of your nose you are really very agreeable.\"\n\n\"Plague take the old lady! How she does go on about my nose!\" said the\nPrince to himself. \"One would almost think that mine had taken all the\nextra length that hers lacks! If I were not so hungry I would soon have\ndone with this chatterpie who thinks she talks very little! How stupid\npeople are not to see their own faults! That comes of being a princess;\nshe has been spoilt by flatterers, who have made her believe that she\nis quite a moderate talker!\"\n\nMeanwhile the servants were putting the supper on the table, and the\nPrince was much amused to hear the Fairy, who asked them a thousand\nquestions simply for the pleasure of hearing herself speak; especially\nhe noticed one maid who, no matter what was being said, always\ncontrived to praise her mistress's wisdom.\n\n\"Well!\" he thought, as he ate his supper. \"I'm very glad I came here.\nThis just shows me how sensible I have been in never listening to\nflatterers. People of that sort praise us to our faces without shame,\nand hide our faults or change them into virtues. For my part I never\nwill be taken in by them. I know my own defects, I hope.\"\n\nPoor Prince Hyacinth! He really believed what he said, and hadn't an\nidea that the people who had praised his nose were laughing at him,\njust as the Fairy's maid was laughing at her; for the Prince had seen\nher laugh slyly when she could do so without the Fairy's noticing her.\n\nHowever, he said nothing, and presently, when his hunger began to be\nappeased, the Fairy said:\n\n\"My dear Prince, might I beg you to move a little more that way, for\nyour nose casts such a shadow that I really cannot see what I have on\nmy plate. Ah! thanks. Now let us speak of your father. When I went to\nhis Court he was only a little boy, but that is forty years ago, and\nI have been in this desolate place ever since. Tell me what goes on\nnowadays; are the ladies as fond of amusement as ever? In my time one\nsaw them at parties, theaters, balls, and promenades every day. Dear\nme! _What_ a long nose you have! I cannot get used to it!\"\n\n\"Really, madam,\" said the Prince, \"I wish you would leave off\nmentioning my nose. It cannot matter to you what it is like. I am quite\nsatisfied with it, and have no wish to have it shorter. One must take\nwhat is given one.\"\n\n\"Now you are angry with me, my poor Hyacinth,\" said the Fairy, \"and I\nassure you that I didn't mean to vex you; on the contrary, I wished to\ndo you a service. However, though I really cannot help your nose being\na shock to me, I will try not to say anything about it. I will even try\nto think that you have an ordinary nose. To tell the truth, it would\nmake three reasonable ones.\"\n\nThe Prince, who was no longer hungry, grew so impatient at the Fairy's\ncontinual remarks about his nose that at last he threw himself upon his\nhorse and rode hastily away. But wherever he came in his journey he\nthought the people were mad, for they all talked of his nose, and yet\nhe could not bring himself to admit that it was too long, he had been\nso used all his life to hear it called handsome.\n\nThe old Fairy, who wished to make him happy, at last hit upon a plan.\nShe shut the Dear Little Princess up in a palace of crystal, and put\nthis palace down where the Prince could not fail to find it. His joy at\nseeing the Princess again was extreme, and he set to work with all his\nmight to try to break her prison, but in spite of all his efforts he\nfailed utterly. In despair he thought at least that he would try to get\nnear enough to speak to the Dear Little Princess, who, on her part,\nstretched out her hand that he might kiss it; but turn which way he\nmight, he never could raise it to his lips, for his long nose always\nprevented it. For the first time he realized how long it really was,\nand exclaimed:\n\n\"Well, it must be admitted that my nose _is_ too long!\"\n\nIn an instant the crystal prison flew into a thousand splinters, and\nthe old Fairy, taking the Dear Little Princess by the hand, said to the\nPrince:\n\n\"Now, say if you are not very much obliged to me. Much good it was for\nme to talk to you about your nose! You would never have found out how\nextraordinary it was if it hadn't hindered you from doing what you\nwanted to. You see how self-love keeps us from knowing our own defects\nof mind and body. Our reason tries in vain to show them to us; we\nrefuse to see them till we find them in our way.\"\n\nPrince Hyacinth, whose nose was now just like anyone else's, did not\nfail to profit by the lesson he had received. He married the Dear\nLittle Princess, and they lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nCINDERELLA\n\nBY CHARLES PERRAULT\n\n\nOnce there was a gentleman who married, for his second wife, the\nproudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had, by a\nformer husband, two daughters of her own humor, who were, indeed,\nexactly like her in all things. He had likewise, by his first wife, a\nyoung daughter, but of unparalleled goodness and sweetness of temper,\nwhich she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.\n\nNo sooner were the ceremonies of the wedding over but the step-mother\nbegan to show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the good\nqualities of this pretty girl, and the less because they made her own\ndaughters appear the more odious. She employed her in the meanest work\nof the house: the young girl scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and\nscrubbed madam's chamber, and those of misses, her daughters; she lay\nup in a sorry garret, upon a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay\nin fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, upon beds of the very newest\nfashion, and where they had looking glasses so large that they might\nsee themselves at their full length from head to foot.\n\nThe poor girl bore all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who\nwould have rattled her off; for his wife governed him entirely. When\nshe had done her work, she used to go into the chimney-corner, and\nsit down among cinders and ashes, which made her commonly be called\n_Cinderwench_; but the youngest, who was not so rude and uncivil as the\neldest, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her\nmean apparel, was a hundred times handsomer than her sisters, though\nthey were always dressed very richly.\n\nIt happened that the King's son gave a ball, and invited all persons\nof fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited, for they cut a\nvery grand figure among the quality. They were mightily delighted at\nthis invitation, and wonderfully busy in choosing out such gowns,\npetticoats, and head-clothes as might become them. This was a new\ntrouble to Cinderella; for it was she who ironed her sister's linen,\nand plaited their ruffles; they talked all day long of nothing but how\nthey should be dressed.\n\n\"For my part,\" said the eldest, \"I will wear my red velvet suit with\nFrench trimming.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said the youngest, \"shall have my usual petticoat; but then,\nto make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered manteau, and my\ndiamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the\nworld.\"\n\nThey sent for the best tire-woman they could get to dress their hair\nand to adjust their double pinners.\n\nCinderella was likewise called up to them to be consulted in all these\nmatters, for she had excellent notions, and advised them always for the\nbest, nay, and offered her services to dress their heads, which they\nwere very willing she should do. As she was doing this, they said to\nher:\n\n\"Cinderella, would you not be glad to go to the ball?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"you only jeer at me; it is not for such as I am to\ngo thither.\"\n\n\"Thou art in the right of it,\" replied they; \"it would make the people\nlaugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball.\"\n\nAnyone but Cinderella would have dressed their heads awry, but she was\nvery good, and did them perfectly well. They were almost two days\nwithout eating, so much they were transported with joy. They broke\nabove a dozen of laces in trying to be laced up close, that they\nmight have a fine slender shape, and they were continually at their\nlooking-glasses. At last the happy day came; they went to Court, and\nCinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when\nshe had lost sight of them, she fell a-crying.\n\nHer godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter.\n\n\"I wish I could--I wish I could--\" she was not able to speak the rest,\nbeing interrupted by her tears and sobbing.\n\nThis godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her, \"Thou wishest\nthou couldst go to the ball; is it not so?\"\n\n\"Y--es,\" cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.\n\n\"Well,\" said her godmother, \"be but a good girl, and I will contrive\nthat thou shalt go.\" Then she took her into her chamber, and said to\nher, \"Run into the garden, and bring me a pumpkin.\"\n\nCinderella went immediately to gather the finest she could get, and\nbrought it to her godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin\ncould make her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside\nof it, having left nothing but the rind; which done, she struck it with\nher wand, and the pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine coach,\ngilded all over with gold.\n\nShe then went to look into the mouse-trap, where she found six mice,\nall alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the trap-door,\nwhen, giving each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand,\nthe mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether\nmade a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse-colored\ndapple-gray. Being at a loss for a coachman,\n\n\"I will go and see,\" says Cinderella, \"if there should be a rat in the\nrat-trap--we may make a coachman of him.\"\n\n\"Thou art in the right,\" replied her godmother; \"go and look.\"\n\nCinderella brought the trap to her and in it there were three huge\nrats. The fairy made choice of one of the three which had the largest\nbeard, and, having touched him with her wand, he was turned into a fat,\njolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld. After\nthat, she said to her:\n\n\"Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the\nwatering-pot, bring them to me.\"\n\nShe had no sooner done so than her godmother turned them into six\nfootmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their\nliveries all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind\neach other as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The\nFairy then said to Cinderella:\n\n\"Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with; are you not\npleased with it?\"\n\n\"Oh! yes,\" cried she; \"but must I go thither as I am, in these nasty\nrags?\"\n\nHer godmother only just touched her with her wand, and, at the same\ninstant, her clothes were turned into cloth of gold and silver, all\nbeset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers,\nthe prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up\ninto her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not\nto stay till after midnight, telling her, at the same time, that if\nshe stayed one moment longer, the coach would be a pumpkin again, her\nhorses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes\nbecome just as they were before.\n\nShe promised her godmother she would not fail of leaving the ball\nbefore midnight; and then away she drove, scarce able to contain\nherself for joy. The King's son, who was told that a great princess,\nwhom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her; he gave her his\nhand as she alighted out of the coach, and led her into the hall, among\nall the company. There was immediately a profound silence, they left\noff dancing and the violins ceased to play, so attentive was everyone\nto contemplate the singular beauties of the unknown new-comer. Nothing\nwas then heard but a confused noise of:\n\n\"Ah! how handsome she is! Ah! how handsome she is!\"\n\nThe King himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and\ntelling the Queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so\nbeautiful and lovely a creature.\n\nAll the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and head-dress,\nthat they might have some made next day after the same pattern,\nprovided they could meet with such fine materials and as able hands\nto make them.\n\nThe King's son conducted her to the most honorable seat, and afterward\ntook her out to dance with him; she danced so very gracefully that they\nall more and more admired her. A fine collation was served up, whereof\nthe young Prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing\non her.\n\nShe went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand\ncivilities, giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the\nPrince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for\nthey did not know her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters,\nshe heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she\nimmediately made a courtesy to the company and hastened away as fast\nas she could.\n\nArrived at home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and, after having\nthanked her, she said she could not but heartily wish she might go next\nday to the ball, because the King's son had desired her.\n\nAs she was eagerly telling her godmother whatever had passed at the\nball, her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and\nopened.\n\n\"How long you have stayed!\" cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes and\nstretching herself as if she had been just waked out of her sleep; she\nhad not, however, any manner of inclination to sleep since they went\nfrom home.\n\n\"If thou hadst been at the ball,\" says one of her sisters, \"thou\nwouldst not have been tired with it. There came thither the finest\nprincess, the most beautiful ever seen with mortal eyes; she showed us\na thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons.\"\n\nCinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter. She did ask them the\nname of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that\nthe King's son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the\nworld to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied:\n\n\"She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been!\nCould not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow\nsuit of clothes which you wear every day.\"\n\n\"Ay, to be sure!\" cried Miss Charlotte; \"lend my clothes to such a\ndirty Cinderwench as thou art! I should be a fool.\"\n\nCinderella, indeed, expected well such an answer, and was very glad of\nthe refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it if her sister had\nlent her what she asked for jestingly.\n\nThe next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella,\nbut dressed more magnificently than before. The King's son was always\nby her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her. All\nthis was so far from being tiresome that she quite forgot what her\ngodmother had recommended to her; so that she, at last, counted the\nclock striking twelve when she took it to be no more than eleven. She\nthen rose up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The Prince followed, but\ncould not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers,\nwhich the Prince took up most carefully. She got home, but quite out of\nbreath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing left her of all\nher finery but one of the little slippers, fellow to that she dropped.\n\nThe guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a\nprincess go out. To this they replied that they had seen nobody go out\nbut a young girl, very meanly dressed, and who had more the air of a\npoor country wench than a gentlewoman.\n\nWhen the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them\nwhether they had had a good time, and if the fine lady had been there.\n\n [Illustration]\n\nThey told her: \"Yes, but she hurried away immediately when it struck\ntwelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass\nslippers, the prettiest in the world, which the King's son picked up;\nhe did nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and most\ncertainly he is very much in love with the beautiful person who owned\nthe glass slipper.\"\n\nWhat they said was very true; for a few days after the King's son\ncaused it to be proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry\nher whose foot this slipper would just fit. They whom he employed began\nto try it upon the princesses, then the duchesses and all the Court,\nbut in vain; it was brought to the two sisters, who did all they\npossibly could to thrust their foot into the slipper, but they could\nnot effect it. Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew her slipper, said\nto them, laughing:\n\n\"Let me see if it will not fit me.\"\n\nHer sisters burst out a-laughing, and began to banter her. The\ngentleman who was sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at\nCinderella, and, finding her very handsome, said:\n\n\"It is but just that she should try, and I have orders to let everyone\nmake trial.\"\n\nHe obliged Cinderella to sit down, and, putting the slipper to her\nfoot, he found it went on very easily, and fitted her as if it had been\nmade of wax. The astonishment her two sisters were in was excessively\ngreat, but still abundantly greater when Cinderella pulled out of her\npocket the other slipper, and put it on her foot. Thereupon, in came\nher godmother, who, having touched with her wand Cinderella's clothes,\nmade them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had before.\n\nAnd now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom\nthey had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg\npardon for all the ill-treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderella\ntook them up, and, as she embraced them, cried:\n\n\"I forgive you with all my heart, and I want you to love me always.\"\n\nShe was conducted to the young Prince, dressed as she was; he thought\nher more charming than ever, and, a few days after, married her.\nCinderella, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters\nlodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two\ngreat lords of the Court.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLEEPING BEAUTY\n\nADAPTED FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nThe King and Queen of a faraway country once had a little daughter, who\nwas more beautiful than any child that had ever before been seen. Her\nfather and mother were so delighted that they proclaimed a public\nholiday on her christening, and invited to act as godmothers the seven\ngood fairies who lived in the kingdom. Unfortunately, they forgot to\nask one ugly old fairy, who had remained shut up in her tower so many\nyears that people really had forgotten about her.\n\nWhen the night of the christening arrived the castle was beautiful to\nbehold. Lights shone even to the highest tower; beautiful music sounded\nfrom behind masses of fragrant flowers; splendidly dressed knights and\nladies were there to honor the little Princess; and the seven good\nfairies smilingly gave her their gifts.\n\nSo excited and happy were all that no one noticed an old creature who\nhad slipped in and stood in the shadow looking on. This was the fairy\nwho had not been invited; and, in anger at the slight, she was waiting\nher chance to make trouble.\n\n\"For my gift,\" said the first fairy, \"I grant that the Princess shall\nbe the most beautiful person in the world.\"\n\n\"I give her the mind of an angel,\" said the second.\n\n\"She shall be grace itself,\" said the third.\n\n\"She shall dance like a goddess,\" said the fourth.\n\n\"Her voice shall equal the nightingale's,\" said the fifth.\n\n\"The art of playing on all musical instruments shall be hers,\" said\nthe sixth.\n\nNow the wicked old enchantress thought that all seven good fairies had\nspoken, so she stepped forth, her face distorted with hatred and envy,\nand said: \"So I am not thought good enough to be a guest here: you\ndespise me because I am old and ugly. I shall make a gift, and it shall\nbe a curse. When your fine young lady becomes sixteen she shall fall\nasleep, and nothing you can do will be able to waken her.\"\n\nThen with a horrid laugh the hag disappeared.\n\nHorror seized the guests, and the party, which had been so gay, became\nsolemn indeed.\n\nThen the seventh good fairy sprang up and said in silvery tones: \"My\ngift is yet to be laid before the Princess. I am young, and I can not\nundo the evil that has befallen. But be not unhappy, for I grant that\non the day when the curse falls, every living thing in the castle shall\nalso fall asleep. Moreover, I grant that whenever there is a Prince who\nis brave enough to be worthy of this lovely Princess, he shall find a\nway to break the spell.\"\n\nAs the little girl grew older the words of the good fairies came true.\nNot only was she beautiful and gifted, but she was so kind and\nthoughtful that everyone loved her dearly.\n\nAt first they were very careful to tell her nothing of the wicked\nfairy's curse, and then there were so many other things to think about\nthat people forgot all about the old fairy and her gift.\n\nThe sixteenth birthday arrived, and there was a very special\ncelebration to please the Princess. The castle was decorated more\nbeautifully, if possible, than on the night of the christening, and\neveryone was dancing or laughing and as happy as could be. Suddenly the\nold fairy stepped out from a shadow, as she had done years before, and\nlooking at the beautiful girl said, \"Sleep.\" Immediately not one sound\nor stir was in that gorgeous castle.\n\nNow, you must forget for a bit all about the Sleeping Beauty, and hear\nabout a noble Prince who was born many years later in a kingdom not far\nfrom this one. Not only was this Prince handsome and brave, but he was\nso kind and good that people called him \"Prince Winsome.\"\n\nAll his life he had heard terrible stories about an enchanted castle,\nwhose towers could be seen on a clear day far off above a dense forest.\nIt was said that the trees grew so close together in this forest that\nwhen a knight attempted to force his way through, he always became\nentangled in the branches and perished. Many young men were said to\nhave met this fate; so little by little people stopped trying to reach\nthe castle.\n\nBut the little Prince was courageous. \"When I am sixteen, I shall start\nout for the magic forest and rescue the beautiful maiden, whom, I am\nsure, I shall find in the castle,\" he said.\n\n [Illustration: JAKOB AND WILHELM GRIMM]\n\nTrue to his word, on his sixteenth birthday our Prince set off\neagerly on his adventure. His courtiers urged him not to go, and his\nsubjects pleaded with him, for they did not wish to lose their Prince.\nThey were afraid he would die in the forest they so dreaded. They did\nnot realize how difficulties and dangers give way before a brave,\ntrue-hearted youth.\n\n [Illustration: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY\n FROM A DRAWING BY EDITH W. YAFFEE]\n\nWhen Prince Winsome reached the edge of the dense forest it looked as\nif no man could ever enter. Great trees grew close together with their\nbranches intertwined. So thick were they that the place looked as dark\nas night. When Winsome came near, a marvelous thing happened. The\nbranches slowly untwined and the trees seemed to bend apart and make a\nnarrow pathway for his entrance. They closed immediately after him, so\nthat his followers were closed out and he went on alone. After a long\ntime he found himself in the courtyard of a great castle. There was not\na sound or a stir; the watchman stood sleeping at the gate, and the\nguards were standing as if playing a game of dice, but all were sound\nasleep.\n\nPrince Winsome entered the castle hall and found it full of noble\nladies and knights, servants, waiting maids, flower girls, all\nmotionless and yet the flush of life on their cheeks. The dancers\nseemed about to whirl away in the waltz; the musicians bent over\ntheir violins; and a servant was in the act of passing cakes to the\nguests--yet they all held the same fixed position, and had since that\nday years before when sleep overcame them.\n\nAdvancing from room to room the same sight everywhere met our hero's\neyes, but his heart began to beat faster and faster, and he knew that\nthe object of his search was near. At last he entered the throne room\nand there on an ivory throne, her head resting against a satin pillow,\nwas his longed-for Princess. She was so much more beautiful than he had\neven imagined that he paused in rapture; then, crossing to her, he\nknelt by her side and kissed her tenderly on the brow.\n\nThen what do you think happened? The Princess smiled, drew a long\nbreath, opened her eyes slowly, and said: \"Oh, my Prince! I knew you\nwould come.\" At the same moment the musicians went on just where they\nhad stopped playing so many years before; the dancers finished their\nwaltz; the servant offered the cakes; and no one but the Prince seemed\nto think the proceeding strange at all.\n\nThe Sleeping Beauty and Prince Winsome were married at once, and lived\nlong and happily.\n\n\n\n\nBEAUTY AND THE BEAST\n\n\nThere was once a merchant who was extremely rich. He had six\nchildren--three boys and three girls; and as he was a very sensible\nman, he spared nothing on their education, but gave them all kinds of\nmasters. His daughters were beautiful, but the youngest had such a\npeculiar charm about her that even from her birth she had been called\nBeauty; and this name caused her sisters to feel jealous and envious of\nher. The reason she was so much more admired than they were, was that\nshe was much more amiable. Her sweet face beamed with good temper and\ncheerfulness. No frown ever spoiled her fair brow, or bowed the corners\nof her mouth. She possessed the charm of good temper, which is in\nitself beauty.\n\nThe merchant's elder daughters were idle, ill-tempered, and proud;\ntherefore people soon forgot that they were beautiful, and only\nremembered them as very disagreeable.\n\nThe pride of these young ladies was so great that they did not care to\nvisit the daughters of men in their father's own rank of life, but\nwished to be the friends of great ladies and princesses.\n\nThey were always busy trying to get great acquaintances, and met with\nmany mortifications in the effort; however, it pleased them to go out\nand endeavor to be people of fashion. Every day they drove in the\nparks, and went in the evening to balls, operas, and plays.\n\nMeantime, Beauty spent almost all her days in studying. Her recreation\nwas to do good. She was to be found in every poor cottage where there\nwas trouble or sickness, and the poor loved her as much as the rich\nadmired her. As it was known that their father was very rich, many\nmerchants asked the girls in marriage; but all these offers were\nrefused, because the two eldest thought they ought at least to be\nwives of a rich nobleman or a prince.\n\nAs for Beauty, she thanked those who asked her to share their fortunes,\nbut told them that she was too young; that she wished to be her\nfather's companion, and cheer his old age by her loving care.\n\nOne unhappy day the merchant returned home in the evening, and told\nthem that he was ruined; that his ships had gone down at sea, and that\nthe firms with which he had been dealing were bankrupt.\n\nBeauty wept for grief, because her father was unhappy and unfortunate,\nand asked him what was to be done.\n\n\"Alas! my child,\" he replied, \"we must give up our house, and go into\nthe country. There I can get a cottage to shelter us; and we must live\nby the work of our own hands.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Beauty eagerly, \"I can spin and knit, and sew very well. I\ndare say I shall be able to help you, my dear father.\"\n\nBut the elder daughters did not speak. They had made up their minds to\nmarry one or the other of their rejected lovers, and did not intend to\nshare their father's fallen fortunes.\n\nThey found themselves, however, greatly mistaken. The merchants who had\nwished to marry them when rich cared nothing for them when poor, and\nnever came to see them again. But those who had loved Beauty crowded to\nthe house, and begged and besought her to marry them and share their\nfortunes. Beauty was grateful, but she told them that she could not\nleave her father in his sorrow; she must go with him to console him and\nwork for him. The poor girl was very sorry to lose her fortune, because\nshe could not do so much good without it; but she knew that her place\nwas ordered for her, and that she might be quite as happy poor as rich.\n\nVery soon the merchant's family had to leave their noble mansion, to\nsell off all their costly furniture, and to go into the country, where\nthe father and his sons got work; the former as a bailiff, the latter\nas farm laborers. And now Beauty had to think and work for all.\n\nShe rose at four o'clock every morning. She cleaned the house; prepared\nthe breakfast; spread it neatly, and decked the board with the sweetest\nflowers. Then she cooked the dinner, and when evening came and brought\nthe laborers home, Beauty had always a cheerful welcome for them, a\nclean home, and a savory supper. During the hours of the afternoon she\nused to read and keep up her knowledge of languages; and all the time\nshe worked she sang like a bird. Her taste made their poor home look\nnice, even elegant.\n\nShe was happy in doing her duty. Her early rising revealed to her a\nthousand beauties in nature of which she had never before dreamed.\n\nBeauty acknowledged to herself that sunrise was finer than any picture\nshe had ever seen; that no perfumes equalled those of the flowers; that\nno opera gave her so much enjoyment as the song of the lark and the\nserenade of the nightingale.\n\nHer sleep was as happy and peaceful as that of a child; her awakening,\ncheerful, contented, and blest by heaven.\n\nMeantime her sisters grew peevish, cross, and miserable. They would not\nwork, and as they had nothing else to amuse them, the days dragged\nalong, and seemed as if they would never end. They did nothing but\nregret the past and bewail the present. As they had no one to admire\nthem, they did not care how they looked, and were as dirty and\nneglected in appearance as Beauty was neat and fresh and charming.\n\nPerhaps they had some consciousness of the contrast between her and\nthemselves, for they disliked the poor girl more than ever, and were\nalways mocking her, and jesting about her wonderful fitness for being\na servant.\n\n\"It is quite plain,\" they would say, \"that you are just where you ought\nto be: We are ladies; but you are a low-minded girl, who have found\nyour right place in the world.\"\n\nBeauty only answered her sisters' unkind words with soft and tender\nones, so there was no quarrelling, and by-and-by they became ashamed\nto speak to her harshly.\n\nAt the expiration of a year the merchant received intelligence of the\narrival of one of his richest ships, which had escaped the storm. He\nprepared to set off to a distant port to claim his property; but before\nhe went he asked each daughter what gift he should bring back for her.\nThe eldest wished for pearls; the second for diamonds; but the third\nsaid, \"Dear father, bring me a white rose.\"\n\nNow it is no easy task to find a white rose in that country, yet, as\nBeauty was his kindest daughter, and was very fond of flowers, her\nfather said he would try what he could do. So he kissed all three,\nand bade them good-by. And when the time came for him to go home, he\nhad bought pearls and jewels for the two eldest, but he had sought\neverywhere in vain for the white rose; and when he went into any garden\nand asked for such a thing, the people laughed at him, and asked him\nwho had ever heard of a white rose. This grieved him very much, for his\nthird daughter was his dearest child; and as he was journeying home,\nthinking what he should bring her, he lost his way in a wood. The night\nwas closing in, and as the merchant was aware that there were many\nbears in that country, he became very anxious to find a shelter for\nthe night.\n\nBy-and-by he perceived afar off a light, which appeared to come from a\nhuman dwelling, and he urged on his tired horse till he gained the\nspot. Instead of the woodman's hut on a hill which he had expected to\nsee, he found himself in front of a magnificent castle, built of white\nmarble. Approaching the door, he blew a golden horn which hung from a\nchain by the side of it, and as the blast echoed through the wood, the\ndoor slowly unclosed, and revealed to him a wide and noble hall,\nilluminated by myriads of golden lamps.\n\nHe looked to see who had admitted him, but perceiving no one, he said:\n\n\"Sir porter, a weary traveler craves shelter for the night.\"\nTo his amazement, two hands, without any body, moved from behind the\ndoor, and taking hold of his arm drew him gently into the hall.\n\nHe perceived that he was in a fairy palace, and putting his own hands\nin a friendly pressure on one of the ghostly hands, said:\n\n\"You are very kind, but I cannot leave my horse out in the cold.\"\n\nThe hand beckoned, and another pair of shadowy hands crossed the hall,\nand went outside and led away the horse to the stable.\n\nThen the merchant's first friends led him gently onwards till he stood\nin a large and splendid dining-room, where a costly banquet was spread,\nevidently intended for him, for the hands placed a chair for him and\nhanded him the dishes, and poured out a refreshing drink for him, and\nwaited on him while he supped.\n\nWhen his repast was over, they touched him, and beckoned to him; and\nfollowing them, he found himself in a bedroom furnished with great\nelegance; the curtains were made of butterflies' wings sewn together.\n\nThe hands undressed the stranger, prepared him a bath of rose-water,\nlifted him into bed and put out the light.\n\nThen the merchant fell asleep. He did not awake till late the\nnext morning. The sun was streaming in through the beautiful\nwindow-curtains, and the birds were uttering their shrill cries in\nthe woods. In that country a singing bird is as rare as a white rose.\n\nAs he sprang out of bed some bells rang a silvery chime, and he\nperceived that he had shaken them by his own movements, for they were\nattached to the golden bed-rail, and tinkled as he shook it.\n\nAt the sound the bedroom door opened, and the hands entered bearing a\ncostly suit of clothes, all embroidered with gold and jewels. Again\nthey prepared a bath of rose-water, and attended on and dressed the\nmerchant. And when his toilette was completed, they led him out of his\nroom and downstairs to a pretty little room, where breakfast awaited\nhim.\n\nWhen he had quite finished eating he thought that it was time to resume\nhis journey; therefore, laying a costly diamond ring on the table, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Kind fairy, whoever you may be to whom I owe this hospitality, accept\nmy thanks and this small token of my gratitude.\"\n\nThe hands took the gift up, and the merchant therefore considered that\nit was accepted. Then he left the castle and proceeded to the stables\nto find and saddle his horse.\n\nThe path led through a most enchanting garden full of the fairest\nflowers, and as the merchant proceeded, he paused occasionally to\nglance at the wonderful plants and choice flowers around him. Suddenly\nhis eyes rested on a white rose-tree, which was quite weighed down by\nits wealth of blossoms.\n\nHe remembered his promise to his youngest daughter.\n\n\"Ah!\" he thought, \"at last I have found a _white_ rose. The fairy who\nhas been so generous to me already will not grudge me a single flower\nfrom amongst so many.\"\n\nAnd bending down, he gathered a white rose.\n\nAt that moment he was startled by a loud and terrific roar, and a\nfierce lion sprang on him and exclaimed in tones of thunder:\n\n\"Whoever dares to steal my roses shall be eaten up alive.\"\n\nThen the merchant said: \"I knew not that the garden belonged to you; I\nplucked only a rose as a present for my daughter; can nothing save my\nlife?\"\n\n\"No!\" said the Lion, \"nothing, unless you undertake to come back in a\nmonth, and bring me whatever meets you first on your return home. If\nyou agree to this, I will give you your life; and the rose, too, for\nyour daughter.\"\n\nBut the man was unwilling to do so, and said, \"It may be my youngest\ndaughter, who loves me most, and always runs to meet me when I go\nhome.\" But then he thought again, \"It may, perhaps, be only a cat or a\ndog.\" And at last he yielded with a heavy heart, and took the rose, and\nsaid he would give the Lion whatever should meet him first on his\nreturn.\n\nAs he came near home, it was his youngest and dearest daughter that met\nhim; she came running out and kissed him, and welcomed him home; and\nwhen she saw that he had brought her the rose, she was still more glad.\n\nBut her father began to be very sorrowful, and to weep, saying, \"Alas!\nmy dearest child! I have bought this flower at a high price, for I have\nsaid I would give you to a wild lion, and when he has you, he will,\nperhaps, tear you in pieces and eat you.\"\n\nAnd he told her all that had happened, and said she should not go, let\nwhat would come of it.\n\nBut she comforted him, and said, \"Dear father, the word you have given\nmust be kept; I will go with you to the Lion and coax him; perhaps he\nwill let us both return safe home again.\"\n\nThe time now arrived for the merchant to return to the Lion's palace,\nand he made preparations for his dreadful journey. Beauty had so fully\nmade up her mind to accompany him, that nothing could turn her from\nher purpose. Her father, seeing this, determined to take her, and they\naccordingly set out on their journey. The horses galloped swiftly\nacross the forest, and speedily reached the palace. As they entered\nthey were greeted with the most enchanting music; but no living\ncreature was to be seen. On entering the salon, the furniture of which\nwas of the most costly kind, they found a rich repast prepared for\nthem, consisting of every delicacy. Beauty's heart failed her, for she\nfeared something strange would soon happen. They, however, sat down,\nand partook freely of the various delicacies. As soon as they had\nfinished, the table was cleared by the hands. Shortly afterward there\nwas a knock at the door.\n\n\"Enter,\" replied the merchant; and immediately the door flew open, and\nthe same monster that had seized the merchant entered the room.\n\nThe sight of his form terrified both the merchant and his daughter; as\nfor Beauty, she almost fainted with fright.\n\nBut the Lion, having a handsome mantle thrown over him, advanced toward\nthem, and seating himself opposite Beauty, said: \"Well, merchant, I\nadmire your fidelity in keeping your promise; is this the daughter for\nwhom you gathered the rose?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the merchant; \"so great is my daughter's love to me that\nshe met me first on my return home, and she is now come here in\nfulfillment of my promise.\"\n\n\"She shall have no reason to repent it,\" said the Lion, \"for everything\nin this palace shall be at her command. As for yourself, you must\ndepart on the morrow, and leave Beauty with me. I will take care that\nno harm shall happen to her. You will find an apartment prepared for\nher.\" Having said this, he arose, wished them good-night, and departed.\n\nPoor Beauty heard all that passed, and she trembled from head to\nfoot with fear. As the night was far advanced the merchant led Beauty\nto the apartment prepared for her, and she retired to rest. This room\nwas furnished in the richest manner. The chairs and sofas were\nmagnificently adorned with jewels. The hangings were of the finest silk\nand gold, and on all sides were mirrors reaching from the floor to the\nceiling; it contained, in fact, everything that was rich and splendid.\n\nBeauty and her father slept soundly, notwithstanding their sorrow at\nthe thought of so soon parting. In the morning they met in the salon,\nwhere a handsome breakfast was ready prepared, of which they partook.\nWhen they had concluded, the merchant prepared for his departure; but\nBeauty threw herself on his neck and wept. He also wept at the thought\nof leaving her in this forlorn state, but he could not delay his return\nforever, so at length he rushed into the courtyard, mounted his horse,\nand soon disappeared.\n\nPoor Beauty, now left to herself, resolved to be as happy as she could.\nShe amused herself by walking in the gardens and gathering the white\nroses, and when tired of that she read and played on the harp which she\nfound in her room. On her dressing-table she found these lines, which\ngreatly comforted her:\n\n \"Welcome, Beauty! dry your tears,\n Banish all your sighs and fears;\n You are queen and mistress here,\n Whate'er you ask for shall appear.\"\n\nAfter amusing herself thus for some time she returned to the salon,\nwhere she found dinner ready prepared. The most delightful music was\nplayed during the whole of dinner. When Beauty had finished, the table\nwas cleared, and the most delicious fruits were produced. At the same\nhour as on the preceding day the Lion rapped at the door, and asked\npermission to enter. Beauty was terrified, and with a trembling voice\nshe said: \"Come in.\" He then entered, and advancing toward Beauty, who\ndared not look up, he said: \"Will you permit me to sit with you?\" \"That\nis as you please,\" replied she. \"Not so,\" said the Lion, \"for you are\nmistress here; and if my company is disagreeable I will at once\nretire.\"\n\nBeauty, struck with the courtesy of the Lion, and with the friendly\ntone of his voice, began to feel more courageous; and she desired him\nto be seated. He then entered into the most agreeable conversation,\nwhich so charmed Beauty that she ventured to look up; but when she saw\nhis terrible face she could scarcely avoid screaming aloud. The Lion,\nseeing this, got up, and making a respectful bow, wished her\ngood-night. Soon after, Beauty herself retired to rest.\n\nOn the following day she amused herself as before, and began to\nfeel more reconciled to her condition; for she had everything at her\ncommand which could promote her happiness. As evening approached she\nanticipated the visit of the Lion; for, notwithstanding his terrible\nlooks, his conversation and manners were very pleasing. He continued to\nvisit her every day, till at length she began to think he was not so\nterrible as she once thought him. One day when they were seated\ntogether the Lion took hold of her hand, and said in a gentle voice:\n\"Beauty, will you marry me?\" She hastily withdrew her hand, but made no\nreply; at which the Lion sighed deeply and withdrew. On his next visit\nhe appeared sorrowful and dejected, but said nothing. Some weeks after\nhe repeated the question, when Beauty replied: \"No, Lion, I cannot\nmarry you, but I will do all in my power to make you happy.\" \"This you\ncannot do,\" replied he, \"for unless you marry me I shall die.\" \"Oh, say\nnot so,\" said Beauty, \"for it is impossible that I can ever marry you.\"\nThe Lion then departed, more unhappy than ever.\n\nAmidst all this, Beauty did not forget her father. One day she felt\na strong desire to know how he was, and what he was doing; at that\ninstant she cast her eyes on a mirror and saw her father lying on a\nsick-bed, in the greatest pain, whilst her sisters were trying on some\nfine dresses in another room. At this sad sight poor Beauty wept\nbitterly.\n\nWhen the Lion came as usual he perceived her sorrow, and inquired the\ncause. She told him what she had seen, and how much she wished to go\nand nurse her father. He asked her if she would promise to return at\na certain time if she went. Beauty gave him her promise, and he\nimmediately presented her with a rose, like that which her father\nhad plucked, saying: \"Take this rose, and you may be transported to\nwhatever place you choose; but, remember, I rely on your promise to\nreturn.\" He then withdrew.\n\nBeauty felt very grateful for his kindness. She wished herself in her\nfather's cottage, and immediately she was at the door.\n\n [Illustration: Courtesy of Metropolitan Museum of Art\n \"LISTENING TO FAIRY TALES\"\n FROM A PAINTING BY J. J. SHANNON]\n\nFull of joy, she entered the house, ran to her father's room, and fell\non her knees by his bedside and kissed him. His illness had been much\nincreased by fretting for poor Beauty, who he thought had long since\ndied, either from fear or by the cruel monster. He was overcome with\njoy on finding her still alive. He now soon began to recover under the\naffectionate nursing of Beauty. The two sisters were very much annoyed\nat Beauty's return, for they had hoped that the Lion would have\ndestroyed her. They were greatly annoyed to see her so superbly\ndressed, and felt extremely vexed to think that Beauty should have\nclothes as splendid as a queen's, whilst they could not get anything\nhalf so fine.\n\nBeauty related all that had passed in the Beast's palace, and told them\nof her promise to return on such a day. The two sisters were so very\njealous that they determined to ruin her prospects if possible. The\neldest said to the other: \"Why should this minx be better off than we\nare? Let us try to keep her here beyond the time; the monster will then\nbe so enraged with her for breaking her promise, that he will destroy\nher at once when she returns.\" \"That is well thought of,\" replied the\nsister. \"We will keep her.\"\n\nIn order to succeed, they treated Beauty with the greatest affection,\nand the day before her intended departure they stole the rose which she\nhad told them was the means of conveying her in an instant wherever she\nmight wish. Beauty was so much affected by their kindness that she was\neasily persuaded to remain a few days. In the meantime the envious\nsisters thought of enriching themselves by means of the rose, and they\naccordingly wished themselves in some grand place. Instead of being\ncarried away as they expected, the rose withered, and they heard a most\nterrible noise, which so alarmed them that they threw down the flower\nand hid themselves.\n\nBeauty was greatly troubled at the loss of her rose, and sought\neverywhere for it, but in vain. She happened, however, to enter her\nsisters' room, and, to her great joy, saw it lying withered on the\nfloor; but as soon as she picked it up, it at once recovered all its\nfreshness and beauty. She then remembered her broken promise, and,\nafter taking leave of her father, she wished herself in the Beast's\npalace, and in an instant she was transported thither. Everything was\njust as she had left it; but the sweet sounds of music which used to\ngreet her were now hushed, and there was an air of apparent gloom\nhanging over everything. She herself felt very melancholy, but she\nknew not why.\n\nAt the usual time she expected a visit from the Lion, but no Lion\nappeared. Beauty, wondering what all this could mean, now reproached\nherself for her ingratitude in not having returned as she promised. She\nfeared the poor Beast had died of grief, and she thought that she could\nhave married him rather than suffer him to die. She resolved to seek\nhim in the morning in every part of the palace. After a miserable and\nsleepless night, she arose early and ran through every apartment, but\nno Lion could be seen. With a sorrowful heart she went into the garden,\nsaying, \"Oh that I had married the poor Lion who has been so kind to\nme; for, terrible though he is, I might have saved his life. I wish I\ncould once more see him.\"\n\nAt that moment she arrived at a plot of grass where the poor Lion lay\nas if dead. Beauty ran toward him, and knelt by his side, and seized\nhis paw.\n\nHe opened his eyes and said: \"Beauty, you forgot your promise, in\nconsequence of which I must die.\"\n\n\"No, dear Lion,\" exclaimed Beauty, weeping, \"no, you shall not die.\nWhat can I do to save you?\"\n\n\"Will you marry me?\" asked he.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Beauty, \"to save your life.\"\n\nNo sooner had these words passed her lips than the lion-form\ndisappeared, and she saw at her feet a handsome Prince, who thanked her\nfor having broken his enchantment. He told her that a wicked magician\nhad condemned him to wear the form of a lion until a beautiful lady\nshould consent to marry him; a kind fairy had, however, given him the\nmagic rose to help him.\n\nAt the same instant that the Prince was changed the whole palace became\nfull of courtiers, all of whom had been rendered invisible when the\nPrince was enchanted.\n\nThe Prince now led Beauty into the palace, where she found her father.\nThe Prince related all to him, and asked him to allow Beauty to become\nhis wife, to which he cheerfully assented, and the nuptials were\nsolemnized with great rejoicing.\n\nThe good fairy appeared to congratulate the Prince on his deliverance\nand on his marriage with Beauty. As for the two sisters, she punished\nthem severely for their jealous and unkind behavior. But the Prince and\nhis wife Beauty lived happily together in the royal palace for many,\nmany years.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE DARLING\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a young Prince who was so well liked by\neveryone in the kingdom where he lived that they named him Prince\nDarling.\n\nThis boy's father, the King, was a very good man, and his subjects\nloved and respected him for his justness and kindness. The King loved\nhis son greatly, and he loved his subjects, too. He was very anxious to\nhave his son grow up to be a splendid man, and a just ruler for his\npeople. The King was no longer young, and he knew that it would not be\nmany years before his son would be left without a father's advice. He\nknew, too, that the boy would succeed to the throne, and would have to\nsee that everyone in the kingdom was treated justly and kindly.\n\nOne day a strange thing happened. The King was out hunting, when\nsuddenly a little white rabbit leaped into his arms. The rabbit seemed\nto think that in the King's arms it would find protection from the dogs\nthat were chasing it, and had nearly run it down. And the rabbit was\nright; for the King stroked the trembling creature gently, and said:\n\n\"The dogs shan't get you now, poor bunny!\" Then the King took the\nrabbit home, and saw that the best care was given it.\n\nThat night, after everyone else had gone to bed, the King sat alone\nthinking about Prince Darling. Suddenly a beautiful lady seemed to come\ninto the room. She was dressed in pure white, and wore a wreath of\nwhite roses on her golden hair.\n\n\"You don't recognize me, do you?\" she asked in a lovely, clear\nvoice. \"I am the rabbit you rescued from the dogs in the forest this\nafternoon. The rabbit was really the Fairy Truth. I took the shape of a\nrabbit to see whether you were really as good as everyone said. Now I\nknow you are, and I shall always be your friend. Isn't there something\nyou want, above everything else in the world, which I can give you to\nrepay you for your goodness to me?\"\n\nThe King was amazed by the lovely Fairy and her wonderful offer. He\nthought at once that if only he could win the friendship of the Fairy\nTruth for Prince Darling, all would be well. So he said:\n\n\"Good Fairy, above all things I should like to know that you would be\nmy son's friend. Will you?\"\n\n\"Gladly. I will make him the richest or the handsomest or the most\npowerful Prince in the world. Which shall it be?\" the Fairy inquired.\n\n\"I would not ask any of those things, good Fairy, but I would have him\ngood, the best instead of the richest of princes. If he is good and his\nconscience does not trouble him, I am sure he will be happy. Riches and\npower and good looks, without goodness, cannot make him happy.\"\n\n\"That is all true,\" said the Fairy, \"and I will do all I can to make\nPrince Darling good. He will have to do most of it himself, though. I\ncan only advise him, praise him when he is good, and scold him when he\nis bad. But I will do all I can.\"\n\nNot long after this strange happening the King died, and Prince Darling\nbecame King in his father's place. The Fairy Truth remembered her\npromise, and came to the palace with a present for Prince Darling.\n\n\"This little gold ring,\" she said, as she slipped it on his finger, \"is\nmy gift to you. I promised your father that I would be your friend.\nThis ring will help you to keep my friendship. When it pricks you, you\nwill know you have done something mean or unkind. It will warn you to\nstop doing such things. If you stop, I will be your friend; if you keep\non doing wicked things, I will become your enemy.\"\n\nBefore Prince Darling could say a word the Fairy vanished.\n\nThe Prince was curious to know whether the ring really would do as the\nFairy said. But he never felt a single prick from the ring. Then one\nday he was badly pricked. He came home from hunting in a horrid temper,\nand kicked his unoffending little dog, that was trying to be friendly,\nuntil it howled with pain.\n\n\"Really, Prince Darling, that is too bad of you.\" The Fairy's voice\nsounded quietly in his ear. \"You lost your temper because things did\nnot go just to suit you. Even if you are a prince, the world cannot\nalways run just to suit your whims. What's worse, you hurt a poor\ncreature who loves you. I don't think that's being the sort of a prince\nyour father would be proud of, do you?\"\n\nThe Prince was greatly embarrassed, and thrust his hands deep into his\npockets to make himself seem full-grown up--so he would not cry! He\npromised to be good forever after.\n\nBut he wasn't, and the ring pricked him often. After a time he paid\nhardly any attention to the ring at all. Finally he made up his mind\nthat a prince ought to be able to decide for himself what was right or\nwrong. Besides, the ring pricked so hard and so often that it made his\nfinger bleed. So he threw it away entirely.\n\nJust after this he met Celia, the loveliest girl he had ever seen. It\nseemed to him he could never be happy until he had made her his wife;\nand he lost no time in asking her to marry him.\n\n\"Sire, I cannot,\" said the girl.\n\nThe Prince was indignant, for he thought any girl should be proud to\nhave him offer to marry her and make her Queen.\n\n\"Sire,\" Celia went on, \"you are handsome and rich and powerful, I know;\nbut the man I marry must be good.\"\n\nThis speech made the Prince so angry that he ordered his men to take\nCelia off to the palace as a prisoner.\n\n [Illustration: \"THIS LITTLE GOLD RING IS MY GIFT TO YOU\"]\n\nNow, the Prince had a foster-brother who was a very wicked man. When\nthe Prince told him about Celia, he said:\n\n\"What! a peasant girl refuse to marry the Prince! How ridiculous! The\nwhole kingdom would laugh if they knew about it.\"\n\nThis speech hurt the Prince's pride, and he decided to make Celia\nconsent to marry him at any cost. He rushed off to find her. His men\nhad given him the key to the cell where they had imprisoned her. But\nthe cell was quite empty.\n\nThe Prince was terribly angry, and swore that he would put to death the\nperson who had helped Celia to escape. It happened that this threat\ngave some of the Prince's wicked friends the very chance they wanted to\nget rid of the Prince's tutor, an old nobleman whom they all hated\nbecause he was good.\n\nSoon these wicked men had everyone in the court whispering: \"Yes, it\nwas Suliman who helped Celia escape.\" Some men even were found who\nswore that Suliman himself had told them about it. When the Prince\nheard it he was still more angry. To think that his old tutor could\ntreat him so! He ordered his men to arrest the supposed offender, put\nhim in chains, as if he were a murderer, and bring him to court.\n\nNo sooner was the order given than there was a tremendous roar of\nthunder. The ground was still shaking when the Fairy Truth appeared.\n\n\"Until now, Prince Darling,\" the fairy said sternly, \"I have been very\ngentle with you. You have been very wicked, but I have done no more\nthan warn you that you were doing wrong and becoming the very sort of\nman your father, the good King, wanted you NOT to be. Now I must take\nstronger measures, for you have paid no attention to my warnings.\n\n\"Really you are more like the wild animals than a man and a prince. You\nroar with anger like a lion. You are greedy for fine food and clothes\nand a good time, as a wolf is greedy for its prey. You are untrue to\nyour friends, like a treacherous snake. You even turn upon the kind\ntutor who was your father's firmest friend, and who would like to help\nyou, too, if you would let him. You are as disagreeable as an angry\nbull, that keeps everyone out of its neighborhood, because everyone\nknows it is not safe to go near.\"\n\nThe Fairy's voice now roared forth in terrible tones, which made Prince\nDarling shake from head to heel:\n\n\"Therefore, I condemn you to have a hideous body like your ugly\ncharacter--part lion, part wolf, part snake, and part bull.\"\n\nThe Prince put his hand to his head, because he felt as if he should\nweep at this awful sentence. He found his face covered with a lion's\nshaggy beard; a bull's horns had grown out of his skull. He looked at\nhis feet: they were those of a wolf. His body was the long slimy body\nof a snake.\n\nThe palace had disappeared, and he stood beside a clear lake in a deep\nforest. He shuddered with horror when he saw his reflection in the\nlake. His horror turned to rage when he heard the Fairy Truth say:\n\n\"Your punishment has just begun. Your pride will be hurt still more\nwhen you fall into the hands of your own subjects. And that is what is\ngoing to happen to you.\"\n\nJust as the Fairy said the Prince fell into the hands of his subjects,\nand in a most humiliating way, for he was caught in a trap which had\nbeen set to catch bears. Thus he was captured alive and led into the\nchief city of the kingdom.\n\nThere was no mourning in the town because of the Prince's death, by a\nthunderbolt, as they supposed. Instead, there was great rejoicing, for\nSuliman had been made King by the people, who were sick and tired of\nthe way Prince Darling had misruled them.\n\n\"Long live King Suliman!\" they shouted. \"His rule will bring us peace\nand prosperity.\"\n\nIn the middle of the public park sat King Suliman. Just as the Prince,\nin his ugly disguise came up, Suliman was saying:\n\n\"Prince Darling is not dead, as you suppose. I have accepted the crown\nonly until he comes back, for the Fairy Truth says he may still return,\na good and just man like his father. For myself, I want nothing more\nthan to see Prince Darling come back a worthy ruler for this mighty\nkingdom.\"\n\nThis speech made the Prince feel very much ashamed of himself, for it\nshowed plainly that the Fairy was right, and that he himself had\nmisjudged Suliman.\n\nMeantime the Prince was put in the menagerie, and people pointed him\nout as a most strange beast, the only one of his sort ever found\nanywhere. The Prince was beginning to feel like his old, gentle self.\nHe was even good to his keeper, although the keeper was anything but\ngood to him.\n\nOne day a tiger broke through his cage and attacked the keeper. At\nfirst the Prince was pleased to see the keeper in danger of his life,\nand mused: \"When he's dead and out of the way I can easily escape.\"\n\nBut the Prince's punishment had not been in vain, for suddenly he began\nto think, \"Well, the poor old keeper; after all I'm sorry for him!\"\n\nThen as if by magic the bars of the Prince's cage seemed to melt away,\nand he rushed out to rescue the keeper who had treated him so badly.\nThe man was more terrified than ever when he saw the huge monster\nloose. But imagine his amazement when the beast fell upon the tiger,\ninstead of crushing his (the keeper's) life out, as he had feared.\n\nNaturally the keeper was filled with gratitude. The strange beast's\nkindness made him feel ashamed when he remembered how badly he had\ntreated the animal.\n\nThe keeper now tried to stroke the beast's head, by way of gratitude,\nwhen to his amazement he found himself stroking, not a wild animal, but\na gentle little dog.\n\nThe keeper picked up the dog in his arms and took him to the King, to\nwhom he told the strange story of his rescue. The Queen liked the dog,\nand decided to keep him for a pet. Unluckily for Prince Darling,\nhowever, she took him to the court doctor, who decided that too much\nfood would be very bad for the dog, and ordered that he be fed nothing\nbut bread, and very little at that! So Prince Darling prized the small\namount of bread he got very highly indeed.\n\nOnce Prince Darling trotted off with his little loaf of bread--all he\nwould get to eat that day--to a brook some distance away. Strange to\ntell, the brook was gone, and in its place was a huge house. Prince\nDarling thought the persons who lived there must be fabulously rich,\nbecause the house was made of precious stones and gold, and the people\nwere dressed in the most elegant and expensive clothes. He heard music,\nand saw people feasting and dancing.\n\nYet the people who came out of the house presented the most forlorn\nappearance--ragged, and sick, and half starved. Prince Darling saw a\npoor young girl, and his heart was filled with pity. She was eating\ngrass and leaves, she was so hungry. Prince Darling was hungry himself,\nbut he thought:\n\n\"I can't be as hungry as that poor girl, and to-morrow I'll have\nanother loaf.\" So he gave the bread to her, and she ate it eagerly.\n\nSuddenly there was a great outcry, and the Prince, running in the\ndirection whence the noise came, saw Celia being dragged against her\nwill into this mysterious house. The poor little dog could do nothing\nto help her. Then he thought sadly: \"I am very angry now with these\nterrible people who treat Celia so badly; but not long ago I was myself\nthreatening to have her killed!\"\n\nAnd the little dog, feeling quite forlorn, put its tail between its\nlegs, as dogs often do, and went off to watch the house where Celia was\nimprisoned.\n\nAn upper window was opened, and a girl threw out some food. The dog\nthought this was because the girl had a kind heart. But when it started\nto eat, the one to whom it had given the bread but a short time before\ncried out: \"Stop! If you touch that you will die! That food came from\nthe house of pleasure, and is deadly poison.\"\n\nSo once again the Prince found that his good action had been rewarded.\nAnd the Fairy Truth, to show her approval, transformed the little dog\ninto a lovely white dove.\n\nThe dove flew straight into the house of pleasure, searching for Celia.\nNo sign of her could it find there, as she had escaped. Therefore it\ndecided to fly and fly all around the world until it did get her.\n\nOne day it came to a desert island, where no living person could be\nseen, nor any green tree to light upon. It searched about, and after a\ntime found a cavern, and in it was Celia, sharing a simple meal with an\nold hermit.\n\nPrince Darling flew right up to Celia, lighted on her shoulder, and\ntried in all the ways a dove knows to show its affection for her. Celia\nin return stroked it gently, although she, of course, had no idea who\nit was. Indeed, Celia seemed delighted to have found a new friend, and\nsaid softly:\n\n\"I am glad you have come to me, and I will care for you and love you\nalways.\"\n\nCelia did not expect the dove to understand what she said. The hermit\nunderstood, however, and asked her whether she really meant it.\n\n\"Ah! Celia,\" Prince Darling exclaimed, \"with my whole heart I hope you\ndo mean it!\" And the astonished Celia turned and saw Prince Darling\nhimself standing before her.\n\n\"Celia will not stop loving you now, Prince Darling,\" said Fairy Truth,\nwho had been disguised as the hermit all this time. \"She has loved you\nfrom the beginning, and now that you have started on the road to\ngoodness I know she will gladly join her fate with yours.\"\n\nThen Celia and Prince Darling threw themselves at the Fairy's feet, and\nthanked her a thousand times over for bringing them together again\nafter all their trials.\n\n\"Come, my children,\" said the Fairy, \"if you had not helped me I could\nnot have brought this to pass. And now, let's go back to Prince\nDarling's kingdom, for I know King Suliman is waiting eagerly for a\nchance to give back the throne.\"\n\nThe Fairy had scarcely stopped speaking when they found themselves in\nthe royal palace. King Suliman was overjoyed to see the Prince return,\nand gladly yielded the throne to him again.\n\nWhen the Prince was crowned King for the second time he also put on\nagain the little gold ring which he had thrown away so long before. He\nand Celia gave their whole hearts to the effort to govern the kingdom\njustly and kindly. You will know that they succeeded very well, when I\ntell you that the magic ring never again pricked Prince Darling's\nfinger.\n\n [Illustration: \"PRINCE DARLING FLEW RIGHT UP TO CELIA\"]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: \"ONCE UPON A TIME THERE LIVED\"]\n\nRUMPELSTILTSKIN\n\nADAPTED FROM THE GRIMM BROTHERS\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a kingdom far away from here, there lived a miller\nwho was very proud, and a King who was exceedingly fond of money.\n\nThe miller had a lovely daughter, and he could not say enough about her\nbeauty and cleverness. He used to tell all the men who brought their\nwheat to his mill, to be ground into flour, of the wonderful things\nthis daughter could do \"to perfection.\"\n\nOne day, in a fit of boasting, the miller told the servant who had\nbrought flour from the King's household, that he had a daughter who\ncould actually turn straw into pure gold by spinning it.\n\nThe messenger was astonished, and could hardly wait to get back to the\npalace and see the King. He knew how mad the King was about money, and\nwanted to be the first to tell him of the miller's extraordinary\ndaughter, who could make him vastly rich so easily.\n\nThe King was tremendously excited by the story, just as his servant had\nhoped. He sent at once for the miller.\n\n\"My man,\" the King said, \"I hear you have a daughter who can spin straw\ninto gold. That's a fine story, but you can hardly expect me to believe\nit without seeing it. Have your daughter come here this evening.\"\n\nSo the miller went home and told his daughter that the King wanted to\nsee her. He dared not tell her why. Naturally, the girl was pleased and\nflattered. She put on her best dress and braided her hair very\ncarefully. Then she went to the palace.\n\n\"So you're the miller's daughter,\" said the King. \"Now we'll see\nwhether you can really spin straw into gold.\"\n\nThe girl thought the King must be crazy. She felt even surer of it when\nhe took her into a great room full of straw with a spinning wheel in\none corner.\n\nA spinning wheel, you know, is an old-fashioned machine for making flax\nand cotton into yarn and thread.\n\n\"If you don't spin all this straw into gold before the night is over,\nyou will die,\" the King said, and closed the door.\n\nThe poor little miller's daughter sat down in front of the spinning\nwheel and cried and cried. She didn't know how to spin straw into gold\nany more than you or I do, and she didn't want to die a bit.\n\n\"Well, well, what's all this crying for?\" said a tiny voice at her ear.\n\nSo many queer things had happened that night that it did not seem at\nall strange to have a man appear out of nowhere. He was not exactly a\nman, though. He was just a tiny little Dwarf. And the miller's daughter\ntold him all her troubles.\n\n\"Why, that's nothing,\" the little man said; \"I can spin that straw into\ngold myself. But I won't do it for nothing. What will you give me for\ndoing it?\"\n\nThe girl had a necklace she was very proud of. She hated to part with\nit, but she gave it to the little man. He sat promptly down at the\nspinning wheel, and in a jiffy the golden straws were flying through\nhis hands, and turning into threads of pure gold. Long before daybreak\nthe room was full of gold instead of straw.\n\nEarly in the morning the King came. He could hardly wait to learn\nwhether the girl had done her difficult task. When he saw the room\nheaped with gold he fairly danced with joy, although that was not very\ndignified for a King. Having one room full of gold only made him want\nanother. So he took the miller's daughter to a larger room, where there\nwas even more straw. Once more he told her that if she wanted to live\nshe must turn the straw to gold.\n\nThe little Dwarf helped her out again. This time she had to pay him\nwith her ring.\n\nIn the morning, when the King saw all the gold, he was still not\nsatisfied. He was getting rich so easily that he hated to stop. So he\nhad the miller's daughter led to the largest room in the palace, and\nhad it filled with straw for her to spin into gold.\n\nThis time, however, he told the girl that if she succeeded for the\nthird time in her task she should become his wife. \"She's only the poor\nmiller's daughter,\" he said to himself, \"but look how rich she is.\"\n\nThe girl was not surprised to see the Dwarf come in. He was quite\ndisagreeable, though, when she said she had nothing to give him this\ntime for spinning the gold.\n\n\"What!\" he said, \"have you no reward for me? Then you must promise me\nyour first child after you become Queen.\"\n\nThere seemed nothing to do but to promise the little fellow what he\nasked. \"Lots of things may happen before the promise is fulfilled,\" she\nthought.\n\nSo the straw was spun into gold, and the King was greatly pleased.\nSoon after this the miller's daughter became Queen.\n\n [Illustration: \"THIS TIME SHE HAD TO PAY HIM WITH HER RING\"]\n\nA year passed, and the whole kingdom was celebrating the birth of a son\nto the King and Queen. The Queen was so happy about her child that she\nquite forgot the promise she had made to the manikin who had saved her\nlife. But _he_ had not forgotten.\n\n\"Give me that child,\" said he one day, appearing, as was his habit, out\nof nowhere. The Queen was frightened, yet refused to give up her child.\nShe offered him anything else he would name, but the child he could\nnever have.\n\n\"The child,\" he answered, \"is the only thing I want.\" Yet he was sorry\nfor the Queen.\n\n\"Well,\" he said finally, \"I'll let you have the child for three days.\nIf you can tell me my name before this time is up, you can keep your\nlittle one.\"\n\nThe Queen sent messengers to search the country and bring her all the\nunusual names they could discover.\n\nAfter one day the manikin came back to find out whether his name had\nbeen discovered.\n\n\"Is your name Kasper, or Melchior, or Belshayzar?\" the Queen asked in\na worried manner.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" the little fellow said to each name she suggested.\n\nThe second day the Queen tried him with some names she had made up\nherself. \"Perhaps they call you Sheepshanks, or Cruickshanks, or\nSpindleshanks?\" she suggested eagerly. But each time the manikin shook\nhis head haughtily and answered, \"No!\"\n\nThe poor Queen was nearly crazy with worry on the third day, and the\nmessengers could find no more queer names. One of them, however, told\nthis story:\n\n\"I was drawing to the top of a high hill, and the road where I was\nriding went through a thick wood. Not a new name had I learned all day.\nBut suddenly I came upon a hut, and before it was a big fire. A little\nman was hopping madly about the fire, and singing at the top of his\nvoice:\n\n \"'Now a feast I must prepare,\n Of the finest royal fare.\n Soon the Queen must give her son\n To me, for I'm the lucky one.\n That Rumpelstiltskin is my name,\n She will never guess--the silly dame.'\"\n\nThe Queen was so delighted she did not even mind being called silly.\nSoon the manikin came in.\n\n\"Well,\" he said defiantly, \"I guess you don't know my name yet, do you?\nRemember, this is your last chance.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear,\" said the Queen, pretending to be very anxious. \"Is it\nJohn?\"\n\n\"No!\" thundered the manikin. \"Give me the child.\"\n\n\"Is it,\" the Queen asked softly, \"by any chance Rumpelstiltskin?\"\n\n\"Some witch has told you that! Some witch had told you that!\" cried the\nlittle man; and he dashed his left foot in a rage so deep into the\nfloor that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it\nout. Then he made the best of his way off, while everybody laughed at\nhim for having had all his trouble for nothing.\n\n [Illustration: \"SOME WITCH HAS TOLD YOU THAT!\"]\n\n\n\n\nRAPUNZEL, OR THE FAIR MAID WITH GOLDEN HAIR\n\nBY THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nThere were once a man and a woman who wished very much to have a little\nchild. Now, these people had a small window in their cottage which\nlooked out into a beautiful garden full of the most lovely flowers and\nvegetables. There was a high wall round it, but even had there not been\nno one would have ventured to enter the garden, because it belonged to\na sorceress, whose power was so great that every one feared her.\n\nOne day the woman stood at the window looking into the garden, and she\nsaw a bed which was planted full of most beautiful lettuces. As she\nlooked at them she began to wish she had some to eat, but she could not\nask for them.\n\nDay after day her wish for these lettuces grew stronger, and the\nknowledge that she could not get them so worried her that at last\nshe became so pale and thin that her husband was quite alarmed.\n\n\"What is the matter with you, dear wife?\" he asked one day.\n\n\"Ah!\" she said, \"if I do not have some of that nice lettuce which grows\nin the garden behind our house, I feel that I shall die.\"\n\nThe husband, who loved his wife dearly, said to himself: \"Rather than\nmy wife should die, I will get some of this lettuce for her, cost what\nit may.\"\n\nSo in the evening twilight he climbed over the wall into the garden of\nthe Witch, hastily gathered a handful of the lettuces, and brought\nthem to his wife. She made a salad, and ate it with great eagerness.\n\n [Illustration: THE FAIR MAIDEN WITH GOLDEN HAIR\n FROM A DRAWING BY EDITH W. YAFFEE]\n\nIt pleased her so much and tasted so good that, after two or three days\nhad passed, she gave her husband no rest till he promised to get her\nsome more. So again in the evening twilight he climbed the wall, but as\nhe slid down into the garden on the other side he was terribly alarmed\nat seeing the Witch standing near him.\n\n\"How came you here?\" she said with a fierce look. \"You have climbed\nover the wall into my garden like a thief and stolen my lettuces; you\nshall pay dearly for this!\"\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the poor man, \"let me entreat for mercy; I have only\ntaken it in a case of extreme need. My wife has seen your lettuces from\nher window, and she wished for them so much that she said she should\ndie if she could not have some of them to eat.\"\n\nThen the Witch's anger cooled a little, and she replied: \"If what you\ntell me is true, then I will give you full permission to take as many\nlettuces as you like, on one condition: you must give up to me the\nchild which your wife may bring into the world. I will be very kind to\nit, and be as careful of it as a mother could be.\"\n\nThe husband in his alarm promised everything the Witch asked, and took\naway with him as many lettuces as his wife wanted.\n\nNot many weeks after this the wife became the mother of a beautiful\nlittle girl, and in a short time the Witch appeared and claimed her\naccording to the husband's promise. Thus they were obliged to give up\ntheir child, which she took away with her directly, and gave her the\nname of Letitia, but she was always called Lettice, after the name of\nthe vegetable which grew in the garden.\n\nLettice was the most beautiful child under the sun, and as soon as\nshe reached the age of twelve years the Witch locked her up in a tower\nthat stood in a forest, and this tower had no steps, nor any entrance,\nexcepting a little window. When the Witch, wished to visit Lettice, she\nwould place herself under this window and sing:\n\n \"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair,\n That I may climb without a stair.\"\n\nLettice had the most long and beautiful hair like spun-gold; and when\nshe heard the voice of the Witch she would unbind her golden locks and\nlet them fall loose over the window sill, from which they hung down to\nsuch a length that the Witch could draw herself up by them into the\ntower.\n\nTwo years passed in this manner, when it happened one day that the\nKing's son rode through the forest. While passing near the tower he\nheard such a lovely song that he could not help stopping to listen. It\nwas Lettice, who tried to lighten her solitude by the sound of her own\nsweet voice.\n\nThe King's son was very eager to obtain a glimpse of the singer, but he\nsought in vain for a door to the tower; there was not one to be found.\n\nSo he rode home, but the song had made such an impression on his heart\nthat he went daily into the forest to listen. Once, while he stood\nbehind a tree, he saw the Witch approach the tower, and heard her say:\n\n \"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair,\n That I may climb without a stair.\"\n\nPresently he saw a quantity of long golden hair hanging down low over\nthe window sill, and the Witch climbing up by it.\n\n\"Oh!\" said the young Prince, \"if that is the ladder on which persons\ncan mount and enter, I will take the first opportunity of trying my\nluck that way.\"\n\nSo on the following day, as it began to grow dark, he placed himself\nunder the window, and cried:\n\n \"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair,\n That I may climb without a stair.\"\n\nImmediately the hair fell over the window, and the young Prince quickly\nclimbed up and entered the room where the young maiden lived.\n\nLettice was dreadfully frightened at seeing a strange man come into the\nroom through the window; but the King's son looked at her with such\nfriendly eyes, and began to converse with her so kindly, that she soon\nlost all fear.\n\nHe told her that he had heard her singing, and that her song had\nexcited such a deep emotion in his heart that he could not rest till he\nhad seen her. On hearing this Lettice ceased to fear him, and they\ntalked together for some time, till at length the Prince asked her if\nshe would take him for a husband. For a time she hesitated, although\nshe saw that he was young and handsome, and he had told her he was a\nprince.\n\nAt last she said to herself: \"He will certainly love me better than old\nMother Grethel does.\" So she placed her hand in his, and said: \"I would\nwillingly go with you and be your wife, but I do not know in the least\nhow to get away from this place. Unless,\" she added, after a pause,\n\"you will bring me every day some strong silk cord; then I will weave\na ladder of it, and when it is finished I will descend upon it, and you\nshall take me away on your horse.\"\n\nThe Prince readily agreed to this, and promised to come and see her\nevery evening till the ladder was finished, for the old Witch always\ncame in the daytime.\n\nThe Witch had never seen the Prince; she knew nothing of his visits\ntill one day Lettice said innocently: \"I shall not have such a heavy\nweight as you to draw up much longer, Mother Grethel, for the King's\nson is coming very soon to fetch me away.\"\n\n\"You wicked child!\" cried the Witch; \"what do I hear you say? I thought\nI had hidden you from all the world, and now you have betrayed me!\" In\nher wrath she caught hold of Lettice's beautiful hair, and struck her\nseveral times with her left hand. Then she seized a pair of scissors\nand cut Lettice's hair, while the beautiful locks, glistening like\ngold, fell to the ground. And she was so hard-hearted after this that\nshe dragged poor Lettice out into the forest, to a wild and desert\nplace, and left her there in sorrow and great distress.\n\nOn the same day on which the poor maiden had been exiled the Witch tied\nthe locks of hair which she had cut off poor Lettice's golden head into\na kind of tail, and hung it over the window sill.\n\nIn the evening the Prince came and cried:\n\n \"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair,\n That I may climb without a stair.\"\n\nThen the Witch let the hair down, and the King's son climbed up; but at\nthe open window he found not his dear Lettice, but a wicked witch who\nlooked at him with cruel and malicious eyes.\n\n\"Ah!\" she cried with a sneer, \"you are come to fetch your loving bride,\nI suppose; but the beautiful bird has flown from the nest, and will\nnever sing any more. The cat has fetched it away, and she intends also\nto scratch your eyes out. To thee is Lettice lost; thou wilt never\nbehold her again!\"\n\nThe Prince felt almost out of his mind with grief as he heard this, and\nin his despair he sprang out of the tower window and fell among the\nthorns and brambles beneath. He certainly escaped with his life, but\nthe thorns stuck into his eyes and blinded them. After this he wandered\nabout the wood for days, eating only wild roots and berries, and did\nnothing but lament and weep for the loss of his beloved bride.\n\nSo wandered he for a whole year in misery, till at last he came upon\nthe desert place where Lettice had been banished and lived in her\nsorrow.\n\nAs he drew near he heard a voice which he seemed to recognize, and\nadvancing toward the sound came within sight of Lettice, who recognized\nhim at once, with tears. Two of her tears fell on his eyes, and so\nhealed and cleared them of the injury done by the thorns that he could\nsoon see as well as ever. Then he traveled with her to his kingdom, and\nshe became his wife, and the remainder of their days were spent in\nhappiness and content.\n\n\n\n\nSNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED\n\nBY THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nThere was once a poor Widow, who lived alone in her hut with her two\nchildren, who were called Snow-White and Rose-Red, because they were\nlike the flowers which bloomed on two rose-bushes which grew before the\ncottage. But they were two as pious, good, industrious, and amiable\nchildren as any that were in the world, only Snow-White was more quiet\nand gentle than Rose-Red. For Rose-Red would run and jump about the\nmeadows, seeking flowers, and catching butterflies, while Snow-White\nsat at home helping her Mother to keep house, or reading to her, if\nthere were nothing else to do.\n\nThe two children loved one another dearly, and always walked\nhand-in-hand when they went out together; and ever when they talked of\nit they agreed that they would never separate from each other, and that\nwhatever one had the other should share. Often they ran deep into the\nforest and gathered wild berries; but no beast ever harmed them. For\nthe hare would eat cauliflowers out of their hands, the fawn would\ngraze at their side, the goats would frisk about them in play, and the\nbirds remained perched on the boughs singing as if nobody were near.\n\nNo accidents ever befell them; and if they stayed late in the forest,\nand night came upon them, they used to lie down on the moss and sleep\ntill morning; and because their Mother knew they would do so, she felt\nno concern about them. One time when they had thus passed the night in\nthe forest, and the dawn of morning awoke them, they saw a beautiful\nChild dressed in shining white sitting near their couch. She got up\nand looked at them kindly, but without saying anything went into the\nforest; and when the children looked round they saw that where they\nhad slept was close to the edge of a pit, into which they would have\ncertainly fallen had they walked a couple of steps further in the dark.\n\nTheir Mother told them the figure they had seen was, doubtless, the\ngood angel who watches over children.\n\nSnow-White and Rose-Red kept their Mother's cottage so clean that it\nwas a pleasure to enter it. Every morning in the summertime Rose-Red\nwould first put the house in order, and then gather a nosegay for her\nMother, in which she always placed a bud from each rose-tree. Every\nwinter's morning Snow-White would light the fire and put the kettle on\nto boil, and, although the kettle was made of copper, it yet shone like\ngold, because it was scoured so well. In the evenings, when the flakes\nof snow were falling, the Mother would say, \"Go, Snow-White, and bolt\nthe door;\" and then they used to sit down on the hearth, and the Mother\nwould put on her spectacles and read out of a great book while her\nchildren sat spinning. By their side, too, lay a little lamb, and on a\nperch behind them a little white dove reposed with her head tucked\nunder her wing.\n\nOne evening when they were thus sitting comfortably together, there\ncame a knock at the door, as if somebody wished to come in. \"Make\nhaste, Rose-Red,\" cried her Mother; \"make haste and open the door;\nperhaps there is some traveler outside who needs shelter.\"\n\nSo Rose-Red went and drew the bolt and opened the door, expecting to\nsee some poor man outside; but instead, a great fat bear poked his\nblack head in. Rose-Red shrieked out and ran back, the little lamb\nbleated, the dove fluttered on her perch, and Snow-White hid herself\nbehind her Mother's bed. The Bear, however, began to speak, and said,\n\"Be not afraid, I will do you no harm; but I am half frozen, and wish\nto come in and warm myself.\"\n\n\"Poor Bear!\" cried the Mother; \"come in and lie down before the fire;\nbut take care you do not burn your skin;\" and then she continued, \"Come\nhere, Rose-Red and Snow-White, the Bear will not harm you, he means\nhonorably.\" So they both came back, and by degrees the lamb too and the\ndove overcame their fears and welcomed the rough visitor.\n\n\"You children!\" said the Bear, before he entered, \"come and knock the\nsnow off my coat.\" And they fetched their brooms and swept him clean.\nThen he stretched himself before the fire and grumbled out his\nsatisfaction, and in a little while the children became familiar enough\nto play tricks with the unwieldy animal. They pulled his long shaggy\nskin, set their feet upon his back and rolled him to and fro, and even\nventured to beat him with a hazel-stick, laughing when he grumbled. The\nBear bore all their tricks good-temperedly, and if they hit too hard he\ncried out,--\n\n \"Leave me my life, you children,\n Snow-White and Rose-Red,\n Or you'll never wed.\"\n\nWhen bedtime came and the others were gone, the Mother said to the\nBear, \"You may sleep here on the hearth if you like, and then you will\nbe safely protected from the cold and bad weather.\"\n\nAs soon as day broke the two children let the Bear out again, and he\ntrotted away over the snow, and ever afterward he came every evening at\na certain hour. He would lie down on the hearth and allow the children\nto play with him as much as they liked, till by degrees they became so\naccustomed to him that the door was left unbolted till their black\nfriend arrived.\n\nBut as soon as spring returned, and everything out of doors was green\nagain, the Bear one morning told Snow-White that he must leave her, and\ncould not return during the whole summer. \"Where are you going, then,\ndear Bear?\" asked Snow-White. \"I am obliged to go into the forest and\nguard my treasures from the evil Dwarfs; for in winter, when the ground\nis hard, they are obliged to keep in their holes and cannot work\nthrough; but now, since the sun has thawed the earth and warmed it, the\nDwarfs pierce through and steal all they can find; and what has once\npassed into their hands, and gets concealed by them in their caves, is\nnot easily brought to light.\"\n\nSnow-White, however, was very sad at the departure of the Bear, and\nopened the door so hesitatingly, that when he pressed through it he\nleft behind on the latch a piece of his hairy coat; and through the\nhole which was made in his coat Snow-White fancied she saw the\nglittering of gold, but she was not quite certain of it. The Bear,\nhowever, ran hastily away, and was soon hidden behind the trees.\n\nSome time afterward the Mother sent the children into the woods to\ngather sticks, and while doing so they came to a tree which was lying\nacross the path, on the trunk of which something kept bobbing up and\ndown from the grass, and they could not imagine what it was. When\nthey came nearer they saw a Dwarf, with an old wrinkled face and a\nsnow-white beard a yard long. The end of this beard was fixed in a\nsplit of the tree, and the little man kept jumping about like a dog\ntied by a chain, for he did not know how to free himself. He glared at\nthe Maidens with his red, fiery eyes, and exclaimed, \"Why do you stand\nthere? Are you going to pass without offering me any assistance?\"\n\n\"What have you done, little man?\" asked Rose-Red.\n\n\"You stupid, gazing goose!\" exclaimed he, \"I wanted to have split the\ntree in order to get a little wood for my kitchen, for the little food\nwhich we use is soon burnt up with great faggots, not like what you\nrough greedy people devour! I had driven the wedge in properly, and\neverything was going on well, when the smooth wood flew upward, and the\ntree closed so suddenly together, that I could not draw my beautiful\nbeard out; and here it sticks, and I cannot get away. There, don't\nlaugh, you milk-faced things! Are you dumbfounded?\"\n\nThe children took all the pains they could to pull the Dwarf's beard\nout, but without success. \"I will run and fetch some help,\" cried\nRose-Red at length.\n\n\"Crack-brained sheep's-head that you are!\" snarled the Dwarf; \"what are\nyou going to call other people for? You are two too many now for me;\ncan you think of nothing else?\"\n\n\"Don't be impatient,\" replied Snow-White: \"I have thought of\nsomething;\" and pulling her scissors out of her pocket, she cut off the\nend of the beard. As soon as the Dwarf found himself at liberty he\nsnatched up his sack, which laid between the roots of the tree filled\nwith gold, and, throwing it over his shoulder, marched off, grumbling,\nand groaning, and crying \"Stupid people! to cut off a piece of my\nbeautiful beard. Plague take you!\" And away he went without once\nlooking at the children.\n\nSome time afterward Snow-White and Rose-Red went a-fishing and as they\nneared the pond they saw something like a great locust hopping about\non the bank, as if going to jump into the water. They ran up and\nrecognized the Dwarf; \"What are you after?\" asked Rose-Red; \"you will\nfall into the water.\"\n\n\"I am not quite such a simpleton as that,\" replied the Dwarf; \"but do\nyou not see this fish will pull me in?\"\n\nThe little man had been sitting there angling, and, unfortunately, the\nwind had entangled his beard with the fishing-line; and so when a great\nfish bit at the bait, the strength of the weak little fellow was not\nable to draw it out, and the fish had the best of the struggle. The\nDwarf held on by the reeds and rushes which grew near, but to no\npurpose, for the fish pulled him where it liked, and he must soon have\nbeen drawn into the pond. Luckily just then the two Maidens arrived,\nand tried to release the beard of the Dwarf from the fishing-line, but\nboth were too closely entangled for it to be done. So the Maiden pulled\nout her scissors again and cut off another piece of the beard.\n\nWhen the Dwarf saw this done he was in a great rage, and exclaimed,\n\"You donkey! that is the way to disfigure my face. Was it not enough to\ncut it once, but you must now take away the best part of my fine beard?\nI dare not show myself again now to my own people. I wish you had run\nthe soles off your boots before you had come here!\" So saying he took\nup a bag of pearls, which lay among the rushes, and, without speaking\nanother word, slipped off and disappeared behind a stone.\n\nNot many days after this adventure, it chanced that the Mother sent the\ntwo Maidens to the next town to buy thread, needles and pins, laces,\nand ribbons. Their road passed over a common, on which, here and there,\ngreat pieces of rock were lying about. Just over their heads they saw a\ngreat bird flying round and round, and every now and then dropping\nlower and lower, till at last it flew down behind a rock. Immediately\nafterward they heard a piercing shriek, and, running up, they saw with\naffright that the eagle had caught their old acquaintance, the Dwarf,\nand was trying to carry him off. The compassionate children thereupon\nlaid hold of the little man, and held him fast till the bird gave up\nthe struggle and flew off.\n\nAs soon, then, as the Dwarf had recovered from his fright, he exclaimed\nin his squeaking voice:\n\n\"Could you not hold me more gently? You have seized my fine brown coat\nin such a manner that it is all torn and full of holes, meddling and\ninterfering rubbish that you are!\" With these words he shouldered a bag\nfilled with precious stones, and slipped away to his cave among the\nrocks.\n\nThe Maidens were now accustomed to his ingratitude, and so they walked\non to the town and transacted their business there. Coming home they\nreturned over the same common, and unawares walked up to a certain\nclean spot, on which the Dwarf had shaken out his bag of precious\nstones, thinking nobody was near. The sun was shining and the bright\nstones glittered in its beams, and displayed such a variety of colors\nthat the two Maidens stopped to admire them.\n\n [Illustration: THE TWO MAIDENS ARRIVED AND TRIED TO RELEASE THE BEARD\n OF THE DWARF]\n\n\"What are you standing there gaping for?\" asked the Dwarf, while his\nface grew as red as copper with rage: he was continuing to abuse the\npoor Maidens, when a loud roaring noise was heard, and presently a\ngreat black Bear came rolling out of the forest. The Dwarf jumped up\nterrified, but he could not gain his retreat before the Bear overtook\nhim. Thereupon he cried out, \"Spare me, my dear Lord Bear! I will give\nyou all my treasures. See these beautiful precious stones which lie\nhere; only give me my life; for what have you to fear from a little\nfellow like me? You could not touch me with your big teeth. There are\ntwo wicked girls, take them; they would make nice morsels; as fat as\nyoung quails; eat them, for heaven's sake!\"\n\nThe Bear, however, without troubling himself to speak, gave the\nbad-hearted Dwarf a single blow with his paw, and he never stirred\nafter.\n\nThe Maidens were then going to run away, but the Bear called after\nthem, \"Snow-White and Rose-Red, fear not! Wait a bit, and I will\naccompany you.\" They recognized his voice and stopped; and when the\nBear came, his rough coat suddenly fell off, and he stood up a tall\nman, dressed entirely in gold. \"I am a King's son,\" he said, \"and was\ncondemned by the wicked Dwarf, who stole all my treasures, to wander\nabout in this forest in the form of a bear till his death released me.\"\n\nThen they went home, and Snow-White was married to the Prince, and\nRose-Red to his brother, with whom they shared the immense treasure\nwhich the Dwarf had collected. The old Mother also lived for many years\nhappily with her two children; and the rose-trees which had stood\nbefore the cottage were planted now before the palace, and produced\nevery year beautiful red and white roses.\n\n\n\n\nHANSEL AND GRETHEL\n\nBY THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nOnce upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor wood-cutter, with\nhis wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called\nHansel, and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or\nbite; and once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could not\nprocure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one\nevening, rolling about for trouble, he sighed, and said to his wife,\n\"What will become of us? How can we feed our children, when we have no\nmore than we can eat ourselves?\"\n\n\"Know, then, my husband,\" answered she, \"we will lead them away, quite\nearly in the morning, into the thickest part of the wood, and there\nmake them a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread; then we\nwill go to our work, and leave them alone, so they will not find the\nway home again, and we shall be freed from them.\" \"No, wife,\" replied\nhe, \"that I can never do;, how can you bring your heart to leave my\nchildren all alone in the wood; for the wild beasts will soon come and\ntear them to pieces?\"\n\n\"Oh, you simpleton!\" said she, \"then we must all four die of hunger;\nyou had better plane the coffins for us.\" But she left him no peace\ntill he consented, saying, \"Ah, but I shall regret the poor children.\"\n\nThe two children, however, had not gone to sleep for very hunger, and\nso they overheard what the stepmother said to their father. Grethel\nwept bitterly, and said to Hansel, \"What will become of us?\" \"Be quiet,\nGrethel,\" said he; \"do not cry--I will soon help you.\" And as soon as\ntheir parents had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his coat, and,\nunbarring the back door, slipped out. The moon shone brightly, and the\nwhite pebbles which lay before the door seemed like silver pieces, they\nglittered so brightly. Hansel stooped down, and put as many into his\npocket as it would hold; and then going back he said to Grethel, \"Be\ncomforted, dear sister, and sleep in peace; God will not forsake us.\"\nAnd so saying, he went to bed again.\n\nThe next morning, before the sun arose, the wife went and awoke the two\nchildren. \"Get up, you lazy things; we are going into the forest to\nchop wood.\" Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, \"There is\nsomething for your dinner; do not eat it before the time, for you will\nget nothing else.\" Grethel took the bread in her apron, for Hansel's\npocket was full of pebbles; and so they all set out upon their way.\nWhen they had gone a little distance, Hansel stood still, and peeped\nback at the house; and this he repeated several times, till his father\nsaid, \"Hansel, what are you peeping at, and why do you lag behind? Take\ncare, and remember your legs.\"\n\n\"Ah, father,\" said Hansel, \"I am looking at my white cat sitting upon\nthe roof of the house, and trying to say good-by.\" \"You simpleton!\"\nsaid the wife, \"that is not a cat; it is only the sun shining on the\nwhite chimney.\" But in reality Hansel was not looking at a cat; but\nevery time he stopped, he dropped a pebble out of his pocket upon the\npath.\n\n [Illustration: GRETHEL AND THE WITCH\n FROM A DRAWING BY MALCOLM PATTERSON]\n\nWhen they came to the middle of the wood, the father told the children\nto collect wood, and he would make them a fire, so that they should not\nbe cold. So Hansel and Grethel gathered together quite a little\nmountain of twigs. Then they set fire to them; and as the flame burnt\nup high, the wife said, \"Now, you children, lie down near the fire, and\nrest yourselves, whilst we go into the forest and chop wood; when we\nare ready, I will come and call you.\"\n\nHansel and Grethel sat down by the fire, and when it was noon, each ate\nthe piece of bread; and because they could hear the blows of an axe\nthey thought their father was near; but it was not an axe, but a branch\nwhich he had bound to a withered tree, so as to be blown to and fro by\nthe wind. They waited so long, that at last their eyes closed from\nweariness, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke, it was quite\ndark, and Grethel began to cry, \"How shall we get out of the wood?\" But\nHansel tried to comfort her by saying, \"Wait a little while till the\nmoon rises, and then we will quickly find the way.\" The moon soon shone\nforth, and Hansel, taking his sister's hand, followed the pebbles,\nwhich glittered like new-coined silver pieces, and showed them the\npath. All night long they walked on, and as day broke they came to\ntheir father's house. They knocked at the door, and when the wife\nopened it, and saw Hansel and Grethel, she exclaimed, \"You wicked\nchildren! why did you sleep so long in the wood? We thought you were\nnever coming home again.\" But their father was very glad, for it had\ngrieved his heart to leave them all alone.\n\nNot long afterward there was again great scarcity in every corner of\nthe land; and one night the children overheard their mother saying to\ntheir father, \"Everything is again consumed; we have only half a loaf\nleft, and then the song is ended: the children must be sent away. We\nwill take them deeper into the wood, so that they may not find the way\nout again: it is the only means of escape for us.\"\n\nBut her husband felt heavy at heart, and thought, \"It were better to\nshare the last crust with the children.\" His wife, however, would\nlisten to nothing that he said, and scolded and reproached him without\nend.\n\nHe who says A must say B too; and he who consents the first time must\nalso the second.\n\nThe children, however, had heard the conversation as they lay awake,\nand as soon as the old people went to sleep Hansel got up, intending to\npick up some pebbles as before; but the wife had locked the door, so\nthat he could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted Grethel, saying,\n\"Do not cry; sleep in quiet; the good God will not forsake us.\"\n\nEarly in the morning the stepmother came and pulled them out of bed,\nand gave them each a slice of bread, which was still smaller than the\nformer piece. On the way, Hansel broke his in his pocket, and, stooping\nevery now and then, dropped a crumb upon the path. \"Hansel, why do you\nstop and look about?\" said the father, \"keep in the path.\" \"I am\nlooking at my little dove,\" answered Hansel, \"nodding a good-by to me.\"\n\"Simpleton!\" said the wife, \"that is no dove, but only the sun shining\non the chimney.\" But Hansel still kept dropping crumbs as he went\nalong.\n\nThe mother led the children deep into the wood, where they had never\nbeen before, and there making an immense fire, she said to them, \"Sit\ndown here and rest, and when you feel tired you can sleep for a little\nwhile. We are going into the forest to hew wood, and in the evening,\nwhen we are ready, we will come and fetch you.\"\n\nWhen noon came Grethel shared her bread with Hansel, who had strewn his\non the path. Then they went to sleep; but the evening arrived and no\none came to visit the poor children, and in the dark night they awoke,\nand Hansel comforted his sister by saying, \"Only wait, Grethel, till\nthe moon comes out, then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have\ndropped, and they will show us the way home.\" The moon shone and they\ngot up, but they could not see any crumbs, for the thousands of birds\nwhich had been flying about in the woods and fields had picked them all\nup. Hansel kept saying to Grethel, \"We will soon find the way;\" but\nthey did not, and they walked the whole night long and the next day,\nbut still they did not come out of the wood; and they got so hungry,\nfor they had nothing to eat but the berries which they found upon the\nbushes. Soon they got so tired that they could not drag themselves\nalong, so they lay down under a tree and went to sleep.\n\nIt was now the third morning since they had left their father's house,\nand they still walked on; but they only got deeper and deeper into the\nwood, and Hansel saw that if help did not come very soon they would die\nof hunger. As soon as it was noon they saw a beautiful snow-white bird\nsitting upon a bough, which sang so sweetly that they stood still and\nlistened to it. It soon left off, and spreading its wings flew off; and\nthey followed it until it arrived at a cottage, upon the roof of which\nit perched; and when they went close up to it they saw that the cottage\nwas made of bread and cakes, and the window-panes were of clear sugar.\n\n\"We will go in here,\" said Hansel, \"and have a glorious feast. I will\neat a piece of the roof, and you can eat the window. Will they not be\nsweet?\" So Hansel reached up and broke a piece off the roof, in order\nto see how it tasted; while Grethel stepped up to the window and began\nto bite it. Then a sweet voice called out in the room, \"Tip-tap,\ntip-tap, who raps at my door?\" and the children answered, \"The wind,\nthe wind, the child of heaven;\" and they went on eating without\ninterruption. Hansel thought the roof tasted very nice, and so he tore\noff a great piece; while Grethel broke a large round pane out of the\nwindow, and sat down quite contentedly. Just then the door opened, and\na very old woman, walking upon crutches, came out. Hansel and Grethel\nwere so frightened that they let fall what they had in their hands; but\nthe old woman, nodding her head, said \"Ah, you dear children, what has\nbrought you here? Come in and stop with me, and no harm shall befall\nyou;\" and so saying she led them into her cottage. A good meal of milk\nand pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts was spread on the table, and\nin the back room were two nice little beds, covered with white, where\nHansel and Grethel laid themselves down, and thought themselves in\nheaven. The old woman behaved very kindly to them, but in reality she\nwas a wicked witch who waylaid children and built the breadhouse in\norder to entice them in; but as soon as they were in her power she\nkilled them, cooked and ate them, and made a great festival of the day.\nWitches have red eyes, and cannot see very far; but they have a fine\nsense of smelling, like wild beasts, so that they know when children\napproach them. When Hansel and Grethel came near the witch's house she\nlaughed wickedly, saying, \"Here come two who shall not escape me.\" And\nearly in the morning, before they awoke, she went up to them, and saw\nhow lovingly they lay sleeping, with their chubby red cheeks; and she\nmumbled to herself, \"That will be a good bite.\" Then she took up\nHansel with her rough hand, and shut him up in a little cage with a\nlattice-door; and although he screamed loudly it was of no use. Grethel\ncame next, and, shaking her till she awoke, she said, \"Get up, you lazy\nthing, and fetch some water to cook something good for your brother,\nwho must remain in that stall and get fat; when he is fat enough I\nshall eat him.\" Grethel began to cry, but it was all useless, for the\nold witch made her do as she wished. So a nice meal was cooked for\nHansel, but Grethel got nothing else but a crab's claw.\n\nEvery morning the old witch came to the cage and said, \"Hansel, stretch\nout your finger that I may feel whether you are getting fat.\" But\nHansel used to stretch out a bone, and the old woman, having very bad\nsight, thought it was his finger, and wondered very much that he did\nnot get more fat. When four weeks had passed, and Hansel still kept\nquite lean, she lost all her patience, and would not wait any longer.\n\"Grethel,\" she called out in a passion, \"get some water quickly; be\nHansel fat or lean, this morning I will kill and cook him.\" Oh, how the\npoor little sister grieved, as she was forced to fetch the water, and\nfast the tears ran down her cheeks! \"Dear good God, help us now!\" she\nexclaimed. \"Had we only been eaten by the wild beasts in the wood, then\nwe should have died together.\" But the old witch called out, \"Leave off\nthat noise; it will not help you a bit.\"\n\nSo early in the morning Grethel was forced to go out and fill the\nkettle, and make a fire. \"First, we will bake, however,\" said the old\nwoman; \"I have already heated the oven and kneaded the dough;\" and so\nsaying, she pushed poor Grethel up to the oven, out of which the flames\nwere burning fiercely. \"Creep in,\" said the witch, \"and see if it is\nhot enough, and then we will put in the bread;\" but she intended when\nGrethel got in to shut up the oven and let her bake, so that she might\neat her as well as Hansel. Grethel perceived what her thoughts were,\nand said, \"I do not know how to do it; how shall I get in?\" \"You stupid\ngoose,\" said she, \"the opening is big enough. See, I could even get in\nmyself!\" and she got up, and put her head into the oven. Then Grethel\ngave her a push, so that she fell right in, and then shutting the iron\ndoor she bolted it. Oh! how horribly she howled; but Grethel ran away,\nand left the ungodly witch to burn to ashes.\n\n [Illustration: \"SHE LED THEM INTO HER COTTAGE\"]\n\nNow she ran to Hansel, and, opening his door, called out, \"Hansel, we\nare saved; the old witch is dead.\" So he sprang out, like a bird out of\nhis cage when the door is opened; and they were so glad that they fell\nupon each other's neck, and kissed each other over and over again. And\nnow, as there was nothing to fear, they went into the witch's house,\nwhere in every corner were caskets full of pearls and precious stones.\n\"These are better than pebbles,\" said Hansel, putting as many into his\npocket as it would hold; while Grethel thought, \"I will take some home\ntoo,\" and filled her apron full. \"We must be off now,\" said Hansel,\n\"and get out of this enchanted forest;\" but when they had walked for\ntwo hours they came to a large piece of water. \"We cannot get over,\"\nsaid Hansel; \"I can see no bridge at all.\" \"And there is no boat\neither,\" said Grethel, \"but there swims a white duck, I will ask her\nto help us over;\" and she sang:\n\n \"Little Duck, good little duck,\n Grethel and Hansel, here we stand;\n There is neither stile nor bridge,\n Take us on your back to land.\"\n\nSo the Duck came to them, and Hansel sat himself on, and bade his\nsister sit behind him. \"No,\" answered Grethel, \"that will be too much\nfor the Duck, she shall take us over one at a time.\" This the good\nlittle bird did, and when both were happily arrived on the other side,\nand had gone a little way, they came to a well-known wood, which they\nknew the better every step they went, and at last they perceived their\nfather's house. Then they began to run, and, bursting into the house,\nthey fell on their father's neck. He had not had one happy hour since\nhe had left the children in the forest: and his wife was dead. Grethel\nshook her apron, and the pearls and precious stones rolled out upon the\nfloor, and Hansel threw down one handful after the other out of his\npocket. Then all their sorrows were ended, and they lived in happiness.\n\nMy tale is done. There runs a mouse; whoever catches her may make a\ngreat, great cap out of her fur.\n\n [Illustration: Reproduced by special permission of the Artist\n TWINS\n FROM A PAINTING BY JOSEPH T. PEARSON, JR.]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLAG-BEARER\n\nBY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY\n\n\nThe primary class had a very beautiful American flag, and some child\nwas going to carry it from the schoolroom across the park and into the\nTown Hall on the holiday. All the primary children would march after\nthe flag, and they were going to sing \"America\" and \"The Star Spangled\nBanner.\" It would be a wonderful day and each child wanted to carry the\nflag.\n\nNo one was sure who would be chosen as flag-bearer, but their teacher\nhad said the week before: \"It will be the child who loves his country\nthe most who will carry the Stars and Stripes. Try and do something for\nyour country during the week.\"\n\nSo the children had been very busy ever since doing all sorts of things\nthat would show how they loved their country.\n\nMarjory had been knitting for soldiers. Her grandmother had given her\na pair of pretty yellow needles and a ball of soft gray yarn and had\nstarted a scarf. But the stitches would drop, and there was still\nenough snow for sliding on the hill back of Marjory's house. Her\nknitting was not much further along on Saturday than on Monday.\n\n\"I will show how much I love my country,\" Hubert said, and he asked his\nmother to take the gilt buttons from his great-grandfather's soldier\ncoat that hung in the attic and sew them on his reefer. Then he showed\nthe bright buttons to all the other children, and they thought that\nHubert looked very fine indeed.\n\n\"I shall wear them when I carry the flag next week,\" Hubert told them.\n\nBut the children thought that perhaps Roger would be chosen as\nflag-bearer because he bought such a large flag with the money in his\nbank, and put it up on the flagpole in his front yard. Roger's father\nhelped him raise the flag on a rope so that he could pull it down at\nnight, but once the Stars and Stripes were flying Roger forgot all\nabout them. His flag stayed out in the wind and sleet, and its bright\ncolors faded and the stripes were torn.\n\nAfter all, the children decided, it would be Edward who would carry the\nflag. Edward had a dog named Trusty, and he decided to train him to be\na Red Cross dog. He put a white band with a red cross on it around\nTrusty and harnessed him to a little express wagon to carry bundles.\nTrusty had never worn a harness in his life, or been fastened to\nanything. He tried to get away from the wagon, but Edward strapped the\nharness more tightly. The straps hurt Trusty, and it hurt his feelings\nto be made to drag the cart; but Edward drove him to and from the\ndrug-store and the grocery and the butcher's, carrying the parcels that\nEdward had always brought alone before.\n\nThe other children, too, all tried to do unusual things to win\nthemselves the place of flag-bearer. They played their drums in the\nstreet and made soldier caps and wooden swords and drilled. The little\ngirls dressed up and played army nurse with their dolls. The boys\nbought toy soldiers and horns at the toy shop. There was a great deal\nof noise everywhere.\n\nThen it was the holiday, and everyone was greatly excited over what\nwas going to happen. Whoever had a red ribbon, or a blue necktie, or a\nred-white-and-blue badge felt very proud indeed to wear it. Every child\nsat as still as a mouse as the teacher spoke to them.\n\n\"Marjory showed me five rows that she had knitted for a soldier when I\nwent to her house a few days ago,\" she said. \"I wonder how many rows\nshe has finished now?\"\n\n\"Only five,\" Marjory said softly.\n\nHubert touched the buttons on his reefer and sat up very straight in\nhis place.\n\n\"I am wearing my great-grandfather's soldier buttons,\" he said.\n\n\"That ought to make you feel as brave as he was, when he earned the\nright to wear them in battle,\" the teacher said; and Hubert suddenly\nthought that gilt buttons had not made him into a soldier at all.\n\nThe other children began to think, too, as they looked up at the Stars\nand Stripes at the end of the room. Edward remembered how the harness\nhad hurt Trusty, and the boy with the drum remembered how he had\nawakened the baby from her nap. Roger thought of his torn flag, flapping\nin the wind on the top of the flagpole. No one said anything until the\nteacher looked at the end of the class and smiled, and said:\n\n\"Well, Peter!\"\n\nPeter smiled back, and tried to cover up the holes in his jacket\nsleeves, and tucked his old shoes under the seat. Peter's father had\ngone to be a soldier, and there were his mother, and the two babies,\nand his grandfather who was blind, at home.\n\n\"What have you been doing all the week, Peter?\" the teacher asked.\n\n\"Tending the babies so that mother could go to the factory and sew the\nsoldiers' uniforms,\" Peter said. \"And leading grandfather out for a\nwalk when it was a sunny day.\"\n\n\"Peter's got a little flag hanging out of the window,\" one of the\nchildren said, \"and he's so careful of it. He takes it in every night\nand puts it out again in the morning.\"\n\n\"He saluted the flag and took off his hat to it when the parade went by\nthe other day,\" said another child. Everyone loved merry, ragged Peter,\nwho could play so gayly when he had time for a game.\n\nJust then they heard the band outside. It was playing, \"The Red, White\nand Blue,\" the music to which the children were to march with the flag.\n\n\"Who shall be our flag-bearer?\" the teacher asked.\n\nThe children knew now. They were quite sure.\n\n\"Peter!\" they said.\n\nSo Peter carried the Stars and Stripes across the park and into the\nTown Hall, with all the primary children marching like soldiers behind.\nThe wind blew it around him like a cloak to cover up the holes in his\njacket sleeves and his old shoes. Wherever he looked he could see the\ncolors; the sky was as blue as the field in the flag, a few snow stars\nlay on the ground and the first robin redbreast sang on a branch over\nhis head. And the children following Peter knew what the colors told\nthem to do for their country--to be brave, and good, and true at home.\n\n\n\n\nJOHNNY CHUCK FINDS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD[A]\n\nBY THORNTON W. BURGESS\n\n\nOld Mother West Wind had stopped to talk with the Slender Fir Tree.\n\n\"I've just come across the Green Meadows,\" said Old Mother West Wind,\n\"and there I saw the Best Thing in the World.\"\n\nStriped Chipmunk was sitting under the Slender Fir Tree, and he\ncouldn't help hearing what Old Mother West Wind said. \"The Best Thing\nin the World--now what can that be?\" thought Striped Chipmunk. \"Why, it\nmust be heaps and heaps of nuts and acorns! I'll go and find it.\"\n\nSo Striped Chipmunk started down the Lone Little Path through the wood\nas fast as he could run. Pretty soon he met Peter Rabbit.\n\n\"Where are you going in such a hurry, Striped Chipmunk?\" asked Peter\nRabbit.\n\n\"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World,\"\nreplied Striped Chipmunk, and ran faster.\n\n\"The Best Thing in the World,\" said Peter Rabbit, \"why, that must be a\ngreat pile of carrots and cabbage! I think I'll go and find it.\"\n\nSo Peter Rabbit started down the Lone Little Path through the wood as\nfast as he could go after Striped Chipmunk.\n\nAs they passed the great hollow tree Bobby Coon put his head out.\n\"Where are you going in such a hurry?\" asked Bobby Coon.\n\n\"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World!\"\nshouted Striped Chipmunk and Peter Rabbit, and both began to run\nfaster.\n\n\"The Best Thing in the World,\" said Bobby Coon to himself; \"why, that\nmust be a whole field of sweet milky corn. I think I'll go and find\nit.\"\n\nSo Bobby Coon climbed down out of the great hollow tree and started\ndown the Lone Little Path through the wood as fast as he could go after\nStriped Chipmunk and Peter Rabbit, for there is nothing that Bobby\nCoon likes to eat so well as sweet milky corn.\n\nAt the edge of the wood they met Jimmy Skunk.\n\n\"Where are you going in such a hurry?\" asked Jimmy Skunk.\n\n\"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World!\"\nshouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon. Then they\nall tried to run faster.\n\n\"The Best Thing in the World,\" said Jimmy Skunk. \"Why, that must be\npacks and packs of beetles!\" And for once in his life Jimmy Skunk began\nto hurry down the Lone Little Path after Striped Chipmunk, and Peter\nRabbit, and Bobby Coon.\n\nThey were all running so fast that they didn't see Reddy Fox until he\njumped out of the long grass and asked:\n\n\"Where are you going in such a hurry?\"\n\n\"To find the Best Thing in the World!\" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and\nPeter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, and each did his best to\nrun faster.\n\n\"The Best Thing in the World,\" said Reddy Fox to himself, \"why, that\nmust be a whole pen full of tender young chickens, and I must have\nthem.\"\n\nSo away went Reddy Fox as fast as he could run down the Lone Little\nPath after Striped Chipmunk, Peter Rabbit, Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk.\n\nBy-and-by they all came to the house of Johnny Chuck.\n\n\"Where are you going in such a hurry?\" asked Johnny Chuck.\n\n\"To find the Best Thing in the World,\" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and\nPeter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, and Reddy Fox.\n\n\"The Best Thing in the World,\" said Johnny Chuck. \"Why, I don't know of\nanything better than my own little home, and the warm sunshine, and the\nbeautiful blue sky.\"\n\nSo Johnny Chuck stayed at home and played all day among the flowers\nwith the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind, and was as happy\nas could be.\n\nBut all day long Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Reddy Fox, and\nBobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, ran this way and ran that way over the\nGreen Meadows trying to find the Best Thing in the World. The sun was\nvery, very warm, and they ran so far and ran so fast that they were\nvery, very hot and tired, and still they hadn't found the Best Thing in\nthe World.\n\nWhen the long day was over they started up the Lone Little Path past\nJohnny Chuck's house to their own homes. They didn't hurry now, for\nthey were so very, very tired! And they were cross--oh, so cross!\n\nStriped Chipmunk hadn't found so much as the leaf of a cabbage. Bobby\nCoon hadn't found the tiniest bit of sweet milky corn. Jimmy Skunk\nhadn't seen a single beetle. Reddy Fox hadn't heard so much as the peep\nof a chicken. And all were hungry as hungry could be.\n\nHalf way up the Lone Little Path they met Old Mother West Wind going to\nher home behind the hill. \"Did you find the Best Thing in the World?\"\nasked Old Mother West Wind.\n\n\"No!\" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and\nJimmy Skunk, and Reddy Fox, all together.\n\n\"Johnny Chuck has it,\" said Old Mother West Wind. \"It is being happy\nwith the things you have, and not wanting things which some one else\nhas. And it is called Con-tent-ment.\"\n\n [A] From \"Old Mother West Wind,\" by Thornton W. Burgess; used\n by permission of the author and the publishers, Little, Brown &\n Company.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE WEE PUMPKIN'S THANKSGIVING[B]\n\nBY MADGE A. BINGHAM\n\n\nIt was the night before Thanksgiving in Peter Pumpkin-eater's garden.\nGreat Big Pumpkin, Middle-Sized Pumpkin, and Little Wee Pumpkin were\nspeaking together.\n\n\"All here?\" asked Great Big Pumpkin.\n\n\"I'm here,\" answered Middle-Sized Pumpkin.\n\n\"I'm here,\" answered Little Wee Pumpkin. \"But I heard Peter say that he\nwould pull us to-morrow and send us away.\"\n\n\"That will be fine!\" said Great Big Pumpkin. \"I hope we shall make good\npies for some one's dinner. I wish we could go to the palace.\"\n\n\"So do I,\" said Middle-Sized Pumpkin. \"Maybe we could see the King.\"\n\n\"I should like to see Cinderella,\" said Little Wee Pumpkin. \"But I am\nnot large enough to go to the palace. Still, I wish I could make some\none glad on Thanksgiving Day.\"\n\nLittle Wee Pumpkin was the first to wake in the morning. Peter had\nopened the garden gate, and Cinderella was walking into the garden.\n\nLittle Wee Pumpkin opened her eyes and listened.\n\nCinderella was beautiful, and Little Wee Pumpkin knew that she was\ngood and kind. She was carrying a basket full of yellow flowers.\n\n\"They are for you, Peter,\" she said, laughing. \"I have brought them\nfrom the palace garden. They are for your Thanksgiving.\n\n\"Now you must help me find the right pumpkin for a jack-o'-lantern. It\nis to make a little girl glad. She has been ill a long time, and must\nhave a jack-o'-lantern for Thanksgiving.\"\n\n\"Yes, my lady,\" said Peter; and they went from vine to vine.\n\nFirst, they stopped at Great Big Pumpkin, but that was too large. Then\nthey stopped at Middle-Sized Pumpkin, but that was too flat. Then they\nstopped at Little Wee Pumpkin, and that was just right.\n\n\"This is the pumpkin for the jack-o'-lantern, Peter,\" she said,\npointing to Little Wee Pumpkin. \"This will make the little girl glad.\"\n\n\"Yes, my lady,\" said Peter, as he pulled Little Wee Pumpkin from the\nvine.\n\n\"The two large pumpkins shall go to the palace, to the King,\" said\nCinderella. \"They will make fine pies for his Thanksgiving dinner.\"\n\n\"Yes, my lady,\" said Peter, as he pulled the two pumpkins from the\nvines.\n\nSo Great Big, Middle-Sized, and Little Wee all had their wishes.\n\n [B] From \"Mother Goose Village,\" by Madge A. Bingham,\n published by Rand, McNally & Company, and used by special arrangement.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COMING OF THE KING[C]\n\nBY LAURA E. RICHARDS\n\n\nSome children were at play in their playground one day when a herald\nrode through the town, blowing a trumpet, and crying aloud: \"The King!\nThe King passes by this road to-day!\"\n\n\"Did you hear that?\" they said. \"The King is coming. He may look over\nthe wall and see our playground: who knows? We must put it in order.\"\n\nThe playground was sadly dirty, and in the corners were scraps of paper\nand broken toys--for these were careless children! But now, one brought\na hoe, and another a rake, and a third ran to fetch the wheelbarrow\nfrom behind the garden gate. They labored hard, till at length all was\nclean and tidy.\n\n\"Now it is clean!\" they said; \"but we must make it pretty, too, for\nkings are used to fine things; maybe he would not notice mere\ncleanness, for he may have it all the time.\"\n\nThen one brought sweet rushes and strewed them on the ground; and\nothers made garlands of oak leaves and pine tassels and hung them on\nthe walls; and the littlest one pulled marigold buds and threw them all\nabout the playground.\n\nWhen all was done the playground was so beautiful that the children\nstood and looked at it, and clapped their hands with pleasure.\n\n\"Let us keep it always like this!\" said the littlest one; and the\nothers cried: \"Yes! yes!\"\n\nThey waited all day for the coming of the King, but he did not come;\nonly, toward sunset, a man with travel-worn clothes, and a kind, tired\nface passed along the road, and stopped to look over the wall.\n\n\"What a pleasant place!\" said the man. \"May I come in and rest, dear\nchildren?\"\n\nThe children brought him in gladly, and set him on the seat that they\nhad made out of an old cask. They had covered it with an old red cloak,\nto make it look like a throne; and it made a very good one.\n\n\"It is our playground!\" they said. \"We made it pretty for the King, but\nhe did not come, and now we mean to keep it so for ourselves.\"\n\n\"That is good!\" said the man.\n\n\"Because we think pretty and clean is nicer than ugly and dirty!\" said\nanother.\n\n\"That is better!\" said the man.\n\n\"And for tired people to rest in!\" said the littlest one.\n\n\"That is best of all!\" said the man.\n\nHe sat and rested, and looked at the children with such kind eyes that\nthey came about him, and told him all they knew; about the five puppies\nin the barn, and the thrush's nest with four blue eggs, and the shore\nwhere the gold shells grew: and the man nodded, and understood all\nabout it.\n\nBy-and-by he asked for a cup of water, and they brought it to him in\nthe best cup, with the gold sprigs on it, then he thanked the children,\nand rose and went on his way; but before he went he laid his hand on\ntheir heads for a moment, and the touch went warm to their hearts.\n\nThe children stood by the wall and watched the man as he went slowly\nalong. The sun was setting, and the light fell in long slanting rays\nacross the road.\n\n\"He looks so tired!\" said one of the children.\n\n\"But he was so kind!\" said another.\n\n\"See!\" said the littlest one. \"How the sun shines on his hair! it looks\nlike a crown of gold.\"\n\n [C] From \"The Golden Windows,\" by Laura E. Richards; published\n by Little, Brown & Company, Boston. Used by permission of the\n publishers.\n\n [Illustration: The Coming of the King]\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE PIG[D]\n\nBY MAUD LINDSAY\n\n\nOnce upon a time a little black-and-white pig with a curly tail went\nout to take a morning walk. He intended to go to the Mud Puddle, but\nbefore he got there he came to a garden gate that was stretched wide\nopen.\n\n\"Umph, umph,\" said the little pig, when he saw it; \"isn't this fine? I\nhave wanted to get into this garden ever since I can remember.\" And in\nhe went as fast as his four short legs could carry him.\n\nThe garden was full of flowers. There were pansies, and daisies, and\nviolets, and honeysuckles, and all the bright flowers that you can\nname. Everything was in the proper place. There were tulips on either\nside of the garden walk, and hollyhocks stood in a straight row against\nthe fence. The pansies had a garden bed all to themselves, and the\nyoung vines were just beginning to climb up on the frame that the\ngardener had made for their special benefit.\n\n\"Umph, umph, nice place,\" said the little pig; and he put his nose down\nin the pansy bed and began to root up the pansies, for he thought that\nwas the way to behave in a garden.\n\nWhile he was enjoying himself there the brown hen came down the road\nwith her family. She had thirteen children, and she was looking for a\nnice rich spot where they might scratch for their breakfast. When she\nsaw the open gate she was delighted.\n\n\"Cluck, cluck, come on,\" she said to her chicks.\n\n\"Peep, peep, peep,\" said the little chickens, \"is it a worm?\"\n\n\"It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than\nto scratch in a garden,\" answered the hen, as she bustled through the\ngate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching\namong the violets.\n\nThey had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the\ngarden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open\ngarden gate she decided at once to go in.\n\n\"Moo, moo,\" she said, \"this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a\ntreat.\" And she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the\ndaisies from their stems.\n\n\"Cluck,\" said the hen, \"Peep,\" said the chicks, \"Umph,\" said the little\npig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a\nrabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.\n\n\"Oh, is it a party?\" he said when he saw the red cow, and the pig with\na curly tail, and the hen and chickens.\n\n\"Come in,\" said the pig, \"and help yourself. There is plenty of room.\"\nSo the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and\nthe young vines.\n\n\"How many of us are here?\" asked the red cow, but before any of them\ncould count, the gardener came home.\n\nWhen _he_ looked into the garden he began to cry: \"Oh, my pretty\npansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender young vines!\"\n\n\"What is he talking about?\" said the chickens.\n\n\"I suppose he wants us to go out,\" answered the hen; and she ruffled\nher feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.\n\nThen the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens\ngot lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen\ncackled, and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time\nhe had driven them all out of the garden the sun was high in the sky.\n\n\"Umph, umph,\" cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road, \"we\nwill all come back to-morrow.\"\n\nBut when they went back the next day the garden gate was fastened\nclose, and not even the smallest chicken could get inside.\n\n [D] From \"More Winter Stories,\" by Maud Lindsay; used by\n permission of the publishers, Milton Bradley Company, Springfield,\n Mass.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELS OF THE LITTLE TOY SOLDIER\n\nBY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY\n\n\nHe was the largest and the best dressed and the bravest looking of all\nthe toy soldiers in the toy shop. Some of the toy soldiers were made of\npaper, and these tore easily if they even tried to drill. Some of the\ntoy soldiers were made of tin, and these bent if they had an encounter.\n\nBut this toy soldier, who stood head and shoulders above the others,\nwas made of wood. He had once been part of a great pine tree that stood\nin the forest, and his heart was as brave and true as the heart of the\ntree.\n\nHis trousers were painted green, with yellow stripes; and his jacket\nwas painted red, with gold buttons. He wore a painted blue cap upon the\nside of his head, with a band that went under his chin, and he carried\na wooden gun in one arm. He could stand alone, for his wooden legs were\nglued to a block of wood, and his eyes were black and shining, and his\nmouth was painted in a smile.\n\nWhen the Toy Soldier went from the toy shop to live in Gregory's house\nthe little boy thought that he had never seen such a fine soldier in\nhis life. He made him captain of all the soldier ninepins and guard of\nthe toy train, and he took him to bed with him at night. Then, one day,\nJames, who lived next door and was Gregory's neighbor, came over to\nplay with Gregory.\n\n\"What a nice Toy Soldier!\" James said.\n\n\"Yes, he's mine,\" Gregory said.\n\n\"May I play with him?\" James asked.\n\n\"No, I said he was my Toy Soldier,\" Gregory answered.\n\n\"Then I'll take him,\" James said.\n\n\"I won't let you,\" Gregory said.\n\nThen the two little boys began pulling the Toy Soldier to see which\ncould get him away from the other, and the Toy Soldier did not like it\nat all. He was fond of a good battle, but not of a quarrel. He decided\nthat he would not stay in a house where there was a quarrelsome boy,\nand so he tumbled out of a window that was close by and fell, down,\ndown, to the street below.\n\nThe Toy Soldier had not lain long on the sidewalk when Harold passed by\nand picked him up.\n\n\"I wanted a toy soldier and here is the finest one I ever saw,\" Harold\nsaid; and he slipped the soldier inside his coat and started on, for he\nwas going to school. The Toy Soldier lay close to Harold's watch that\nwas tick, tick, ticking the time away, but Harold loitered, and at last\nhe stopped to play a game of marbles with another little boy whom he\nmet. \"I don't care if I am late for school,\" he said.\n\n\"Oho!\" thought the Toy Soldier, and as the two little boys played he\ndropped out from under Harold's coat and into the gutter. When Harold\nreached school, late, the Toy Soldier was gone.\n\nJoe found the Toy Soldier in the gutter and ran home with him to his\nmother.\n\n\"I have a Toy Soldier!\" he said.\n\n\"How brave he looks,\" said Joe's mother.\n\nAll the rest of the day the Toy Soldier went about with Joe and\nlistened to what he said and watched what he did.\n\n\"I can't go to the grocer's; I'm afraid of his dog.\"\n\n\"I can't put in that nail. I am afraid that the hammer will slip and\nhit my finger.\" This was what the Toy Soldier heard.\n\nThen it was Joe's bedtime, and the Toy Soldier went upstairs with him\nto bed, but Joe cried all the way.\n\n\"I'm afraid of the dark!\" he said.\n\nWhen Joe was asleep the Toy Soldier slipped out of his hand and fell\ninto a scrap basket. He knew very well that he couldn't stay with a\nchild who was a coward.\n\nNo one saw the Toy Soldier when the basket was emptied in the morning.\nHe went with the scraps into a huge bag, and then into a wagon, and\nthen into a factory where men sorted the cloth to make it into paper.\nOne of these men found the Toy Soldier and took him home to his little\nboy, who was lame and had to stay alone all day.\n\n\"Has it been a good day, John?\" his father asked.\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" laughed John as he hugged the Toy Soldier.\n\n\"You have my supper ready just in time,\" his father said, watching the\nsoup bubbling in a shining pot on the stove.\n\n\"And I cleaned a little and set the table,\" John said.\n\n\"Has your back hurt you very much to-day?\" asked his father.\n\n\"A little, but I don't mind that,\" John said. \"See how fine the Toy\nSoldier looks standing on the table!\"\n\n\"Oho!\" thought the Toy Soldier, \"now I have found a place where I can\nstay. Here is another soldier, cheerful and willing to work, and\nbrave!\"\n\n\n\n\nWHAT HAPPENED TO DUMPS\n\nBY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a queer little elf named Dumps, who lived\nall by himself in a dark little house down in a valley. Ever since he\ncould remember, things had gone wrong with him.\n\nHe shivered in the cold and kicked the coal bucket when the fire\nwouldn't burn. He howled when he stumbled over his own dinner pots that\nhe had left in the middle of the floor; and he stood in his front door\nand scowled when other happy elves went by without speaking to him.\n\nHe and his family had lived like that for years. When any elf wanted to\ndescribe something very sad he would say it was \"Down in the Dumps.\"\nAnd so Dumps went on without a single happy day.\n\nBut suddenly the elves decided to give a party. Oh, it was going to be\na very jolly party indeed, and Dumps heard about it. Almost every elf\nwho passed was whistling, or singing something cheerful. And some of\nthem carried their best green suits to the Wood Fairy's house to be\npressed. And when Dumps heard about the party, he cried so loud because\nhe knew he wouldn't be invited that the Wood Fairy heard him. The noise\ndisturbed her, and she went down to Dumps' house to see what was the\nmatter with him _now_.\n\n\"Tell me all about it, from the beginning, my dear,\" she said to poor\nlittle Dumps.\n\n\"I can't see the sunshine!\" Dumps howled.\n\n\"Of course, you can't,\" said the Wood Fairy. \"Your windows are dirty.\nGet some nice spring water in your little pail and wash them.\"\n\nDumps had never thought of doing that. When he washed the windows the\nsunbeams streamed in like a golden ladder.\n\n\"Is there something else the matter?\" the Wood Fairy asked.\n\n\"My fire won't burn, even though I kick the coal bucket every day,\"\nDumps sobbed.\n\n\"Well, try blowing the fire,\" the Wood Fairy suggested.\n\nDumps had never thought of doing that. His bellows were stiff, but he\nblew them very hard, and--crackle--there was a nice bright fire, and\nhis kettle began to sing!\n\n\"Is that all?\" asked the Wood Fairy.\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Dumps sighed, \"The other elves are giving a party, and I'm\nnot invited.\"\n\n\"It is for all the elves, and you don't have to be invited,\" the Wood\nFairy said. \"Stand up straight and let me brush your suit. Now run\nalong, my dear.\"\n\nSo Dumps started up the hill to the party, laughing all the way, for he\njust couldn't help it. You see, he had so many years of being one of\nthe Dumps to make up for! He laughed until all his wrinkles were gone,\nand he was puffed out with happiness. He started bees buzzing, and\ngrasshoppers fiddling, and crickets chirping.\n\n\"Who can this new, fat, cheerful elf be?\" asked all the other elves,\nas Dumps arrived at the party, turning a double-somersault into their\nmidst. \"We are all here except Dumps, and of course this isn't he?\"\n\nThen Dumps showed them how he could turn back-somersaults, and make a\nsee-saw out of a rush leaf. He taught them how to play baseball with\nwhite clover heads, and how to make a swing of braided grasses. He\nsurprised himself with all the good times he was able to think up.\n\n\"Of course, this isn't Dumps,\" the other elves decided. \"His name must\nbe Delight.\" And Dumps never told them their mistake, for it wasn't\nreally a mistake at all. Now, was it?\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS\n\nBY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW\n\n\n It was the schooner Hesperus,\n That sailed the wintry sea;\n And the skipper had taken his little daughter,\n To bear him company.\n\n Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,\n Her cheeks like the dawn of day,\n And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,\n That ope in the month of May.\n\n The skipper he stood beside the helm,\n His pipe was in his mouth;\n And he watched how the veering flaw did blow\n The smoke now west, now south.\n\n Then up and spake an old Sailor,\n Had sailed to the Spanish Main:\n \"I pray thee, put into yonder port,\n For I fear a hurricane.\n\n \"Last night, the moon had a golden ring,\n And to-night no moon we see!\"\n The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,\n And a scornful laugh laughed he.\n\n Colder and louder blew the wind,\n A gale from the northeast,\n The snow fell hissing in the brine,\n And the billows frothed like yeast.\n\n Down came the storm, and smote amain,\n The vessel in its strength;\n She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,\n Then leaped her cable's length.\n\n \"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,\n And do not tremble so;\n For I can weather the roughest gale,\n That ever wind did blow.\"\n\n He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat\n Against the stinging blast;\n He cut a rope from a broken spar,\n And bound her to the mast.\n\n \"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,\n Oh say, what may it be?\"\n \"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!\"--\n And he steered for the open sea.\n\n \"O father! I hear the sound of guns.\n Oh say, what may it be?\"\n \"Some ship in distress, that cannot live\n In such an angry sea!\"\n\n \"O father! I see a gleaming light.\n Oh say, what may it be?\"\n But the father answered never a word,\n A frozen corpse was he.\n\n Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,\n With his face turned to the skies,\n The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow\n On his fixed and glassy eyes.\n\n Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed\n That saved she might be;\n And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,\n On the Lake of Galilee.\n\n And fast through the midnight dark and drear,\n Through the whistling sleet and snow,\n Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept\n Toward the reef of Norman's Woe.\n\n And ever the fitful gusts between\n A sound came from the land;\n It was the sound of the trampling surf,\n On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.\n\n The breakers were right beneath her bows,\n She drifted a dreary wreck,\n And a whooping billow swept the crew\n Like icicles from her deck.\n\n She struck where the white and fleecy waves\n Looked soft as carded wool,\n But the cruel rocks, they gored her side\n Like the horns of an angry bull.\n\n Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,\n With the masts went by the board;\n Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,\n Ho! ho! the breakers roared!\n\n At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,\n A fisherman stood aghast,\n To see the form of a maiden fair,\n Lashed close to a drifting mast.\n\n The salt sea was frozen on her breast,\n The salt tears in her eyes;\n And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,\n On the billows fall and rise.\n\n Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,\n In the midnight and the snow!\n Christ save us all from a death like this,\n On the reef of Norman's Woe.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: Ballad of the Little Page]\n\nBY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN\n\n\n It was a little, little page,\n Was brought from far away,\n To bear the great queen's velvet train\n Upon her bridal day.\n\n His yellow curls were long and bright,\n His page's suit was blue,\n With golden clasps at neck and knee,\n And ruffles fair and new.\n\n And faith, he was the smallest page\n The court had ever known:\n His head scarce reached the topmost step\n That led up to the throne.\n\n And oh, 't was but a little lad\n Had never been before\n So many leagues from kin and friends,\n And from his father's door!\n\n And oh!--'t was but a little child\n Who never yet, I wis,\n Had stolen lonely to his bed\n Without his mother's kiss.\n\n He had not seen the noble queen,\n Of whom his heart had fear;\n He knew no friend at court to give\n A welcome and good cheer.\n\n It was the busy night before\n The great queen's wedding-day,\n And all was bustle, haste, and noise,\n And every one was gay;\n\n And each one had his task to do,\n And none had time to spare\n To tend a weeping little page\n Whose mother was not there.\n\n Far in a big and gloomy room\n Within the castle keep,\n The little page lay all alone,\n And wept, and could not sleep.\n\n The little page lay all alone,\n And hid his head and cried,\n Until it seemed his aching heart\n Would burst his little side.\n\n The chamber door was set ajar,\n And one was passing by\n Who heard the little page's sobs\n And then his piteous cry.\n\n Then some one lifted up the latch\n And pushed the heavy door,\n And then a lady entered in\n And crossed the chamber floor--\n\n A lady tall and sweet and fair,\n In bridal white who stepped;\n She stood beside the page's bed,\n And asked him why he wept.\n\n [Illustration: \"--AND NONE HAD TIME TO SPARE TO TEND A LITTLE WEEPING\n PAGE\"]\n\n [Illustration: \"HE TREMBLED AND LOOKED DOWN\"]\n\n And then he sobbed about a \"kiss,\"\n His \"mother,\" and his \"home,\"\n And wished the queen had called no page,\n And wished he had not come;\n\n For she was \"such a proud, great queen\"\n He was afraid, he said;\n And he was \"lost and lonely\" there\n In that huge, gloomy bed.\n\n And then the lady bent her down\n And kissed him on the lips,\n And smoothed his yellow, silken curls\n With tender finger-tips.\n\n The tears stood in her gentle eyes;\n \"Poor little lad!\" she said,\n And cuddled him up in her arms\n And knelt down by the bed.\n\n And so she held him, close and warm,\n And sang him off to sleep,\n While at her nod her waiting-maids\n A silent watch did keep.\n\n And when the morning smiled again\n The little page awoke.\n They clad him in a suit of white,\n With velvet cap and cloak,\n\n And crystal buckles on his shoes,\n And led him to the queen,\n All lovely in her bridal gear,\n The fairest ever seen.\n\n And he was such a tiny page,\n He trembled and looked down,\n For he was sore afraid to see\n The great queen sternly frown.\n\n But lo! he heard a soft voice say,\n \"O little page, look here!\n Am I, who sing to sleep so well,\n A queen for child to fear?\"\n\n He raised his eyes, and lo! the bride\n Looked on the page and smiled,\n And then he knew the queen had played\n At nurse-maid for a child.\n\n And well he graced the wedding-feast\n And bore her velvet train,\n And at his dear queen's side thenceforth\n Was never sad again.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNOW-IMAGE\n\nBY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE\n\n\nOne afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with\nchilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of\ntheir mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow.\n\nThe elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender\nand modest disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her\nparents and other people who were familiar with her used to call\nViolet.\n\nBut her brother was known by the title of Peony, on account of the\nruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody\nthink of sunshine and great scarlet flowers.\n\n\"Yes, Violet--yes, my little Peony,\" said their kind mother; \"you may\ngo and play in the snow.\"\n\nForth sallied the two children, with a hop-skip-and-jump that carried\nthem at once into the very heart of a huge snowdrift, whence Violet\nemerged like a snow bunting, while little Peony floundered out with his\nround face in full bloom.\n\nThen what a merry time had they! To look at them frolicking in the\nwintry garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm\nhad been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for\nViolet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the\nsnowbirds were, to take delight only in the tempest and in the white\nmantle which it spread over the earth.\n\nAt last, when they had frosted one another all over with handfuls of\nsnow, Violet, after laughing heartily at little Peony's figure, was\nstruck with a new idea.\n\n\"You look exactly like a snow-image, Peony,\" said she, \"if your cheeks\nwere not so red. And that puts me in mind! Let us make an image out of\nsnow--an image of a little girl--and it shall be our sister, and shall\nrun about and play with us all winter long. Won't it be nice?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" cried Peony, as plainly as he could speak, for he was but a\nlittle boy. \"That will be nice! And mamma shall see it!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Violet; \"mamma shall see the new little girl. But she\nmust not make her come into the warm parlor, for, you know, our little\nsnow-sister will not love the warmth.\"\n\nAnd forthwith the children began this great business of making a\nsnow-image that should run about; while their mother, who was sitting\nat the window and overheard some of their talk, could not help smiling\nat the gravity with which they set about it. They really seemed to\nimagine that there would be no difficulty whatever in creating a live\nlittle girl out of the snow.\n\nIndeed, it was an exceedingly pleasant sight--those bright little souls\nat their tasks. Moreover, it was really wonderful to observe how\nknowingly and skillfully they managed the matter. Violet assumed the\nchief direction and told Peony what to do, while, with her own delicate\nfingers, she shaped out all the nicer parts of the snow-figure.\n\nIt seemed, in fact, not so much to be made by the children, as to grow\nup under their hands, while they were playing and prattling about it.\nTheir mother was quite surprised at this; and the longer she looked,\nthe more and more surprised she grew.\n\nNow, for a few moments there was a busy and earnest but indistinct hum\nof the two children's voices, as Violet and Peony wrought together with\none happy consent. Violet still seemed to be the guiding spirit; while\nPeony acted rather as a laborer and brought her the snow from far and\nnear. And yet the little urchin evidently had a proper understanding of\nthe matter.\n\n\"Peony, Peony!\" cried Violet; for her brother was at the other side of\nthe garden. \"Bring me those light wreaths of snow that have rested on\nthe lower branches of the pear tree. You can clamber on the snowdrift,\nPeony, and reach them easily. I must have them to make some ringlets\nfor our snow-sister's head!\"\n\n\"Here they are, Violet!\" answered the little boy. \"Take care you do not\nbreak them. Well done! Well done! How pretty!\"\n\n\"Does she not look sweet?\" said Violet, with a very satisfied tone;\n\"and now we must have some little shining bits of ice to make the\nbrightness of her eyes. She is not finished yet. Mamma will see how\nvery beautiful she is; but papa will say, 'Tush! nonsense! come in out\nof the cold!'\"\n\n\"Let us call mamma to look out,\" said Peony; and then he shouted,\n\"Mamma! mamma!! mamma!!! Look out and see what a nice 'ittle girl we\nare making!\"\n\n\"What a nice playmate she will be for us all winter long!\" said Violet.\n\"I hope papa will not be afraid of her giving us a cold! Shan't you\nlove her dearly, Peony?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" cried Peony. \"And I will hug her and she shall sit down\nclose by me and drink some of my warm milk.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, Peony!\" answered Violet, with grave wisdom. \"That will not do\nat all. Warm milk will not be wholesome for our little snow-sister.\nLittle snow-people, like her, eat nothing but icicles. No, no, Peony;\nwe must not give her anything warm to drink!\"\n\nThere was a minute or two of silence; for Peony, whose short legs were\nnever weary, had gone again to the other side of the garden. All of a\nsudden, Violet cried out, loudly and joyfully:\n\n\"Look here, Peony! Come quickly! A light has been shining on her cheek\nout of that rose-colored cloud! And the color does not go away! Is not\nthat beautiful?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is beau-ti-ful,\" answered Peony, pronouncing the three\nsyllables with deliberate accuracy. \"O Violet, only look at her hair!\nIt is all like gold!\"\n\n\"Oh, certainly,\" said Violet, as if it were very much a matter of\ncourse. \"That color, you know, comes from the golden clouds that we\nsee up there in the sky. She is almost finished now. But her lips must\nbe made very red--redder than her cheeks. Perhaps, Peony, it will make\nthem red if we both kiss them!\"\n\nAccordingly, the mother heard two smart little smacks, as if both her\nchildren were kissing the snow-image on its frozen mouth. But as this\ndid not seem to make the lips quite red enough, Violet next proposed\nthat the snow-child should be invited to kiss Peony's scarlet cheek.\n\n\"Come, 'ittle snow-sister, kiss me!\" cried Peony.\n\n\"There! she has kissed you,\" added Violet, \"and now her lips are very\nred. And she blushed a little, too!\"\n\n\"Oh, what a cold kiss!\" cried Peony.\n\nJust then there came a breeze of the pure west wind sweeping through\nthe garden, and rattling the parlor windows. It sounded so wintry cold\nthat the mother was about to tap on the window-pane with her thimbled\nfinger to summon the two children in when they both cried out to her\nwith one voice:\n\n\"Mamma! mamma! We have finished our little snow-sister, and she is\nrunning about the garden with us!\"\n\n\"What imaginative little beings my children are!\" thought the mother,\nputting the last few stitches into Peony's frock. \"And it is strange,\ntoo, that they make me almost as much a child as they themselves are! I\ncan hardly help believing now that the snow-image has really come to\nlife!\"\n\n\"Dear mamma!\" cried Violet, \"pray look out and see what a sweet\nplaymate we have!\"\n\nThe mother, being thus entreated, could no longer delay to look forth\nfrom the window. The sun was now gone out of the sky, leaving, however,\na rich inheritance of his brightness among those purple and golden\nclouds which make the sunsets of winter so magnificent.\n\nBut there was not the slightest gleam or dazzle, either on the window\nor on the snow; so that the good lady could look all over the garden\nand see everything and everybody in it. And what do you think she saw\nthere? Violet and Peony, of course, her own two darling children.\n\nAh, but whom or what did she see besides? Why, if you will believe\nme, there was a small figure of a girl, dressed all in white, with\nrose-tinged cheeks and ringlets of golden hue, playing about the garden\nwith the two children!\n\nA stranger though she was, the child seemed to be on as familiar terms\nwith Violet and Peony, and they with her, as if all the three had been\nplaymates during the whole of their little lives.\n\nThe mother thought to herself that it must certainly be the daughter of\none of the neighbors, and that, seeing Violet and Peony in the garden,\nthe child had run across the street to play with them.\n\nSo this kind lady went to the door, intending to invite the little\nrunaway into her comfortable parlor; for, now that the sunshine was\nwithdrawn, the atmosphere out of doors was already growing very cold.\n\nBut, after opening the house door, she stood an instant on the\nthreshold, hesitating whether she ought to ask the child to come in, or\nwhether she should even speak to her. Indeed, she almost doubted whether\nit were a real child after all, or only a light wreath of the new-fallen\nsnow, blown hither and thither about the garden by the intensely cold\nwest wind.\n\nThere was certainly something very singular in the aspect of the little\nstranger. Among all the children of the neighborhood the lady could\nremember no such face, with its pure white and delicate rose-color, and\nthe golden ringlets tossing about the forehead and cheeks.\n\nAnd as for her dress, which was entirely of white, and fluttering in the\nbreeze, it was such as no reasonable woman would put upon a little girl\nwhen sending her out to play in the depth of winter. It made this kind\nand careful mother shiver only to look at those small feet, with nothing\nin the world on them except a very thin pair of white slippers.\n\nNevertheless, airily as she was clad, the child seemed to feel not the\nslightest inconvenience from the cold, but danced so lightly over the\nsnow that the tips of her toes left hardly a print in its surface; while\nViolet could but just keep pace with her, and Peony's short legs\ncompelled him to lag behind.\n\nAll this while, the mother stood on the threshold, wondering how a\nlittle girl could look so much like a flying snowdrift, or how a\nsnowdrift could look so very like a little girl.\n\n\"Violet, my darling, what is this child's name?\" asked she. \"Does she\nlive near us?\"\n\n\"Why, dearest mamma,\" answered Violet, laughing to think that her mother\ndid not comprehend so very plain an affair, \"this is our little\nsnow-sister whom we have just been making!\"\n\n\"Yes, dear mamma,\" cried Peony, running to his mother and looking up\nsimply into her face. \"This is our snow-image! Is it not a nice 'ittle\nchild?\"\n\n\"Violet,\" said her mother, greatly perplexed, \"tell me the truth without\nany jest. Who is this little girl?\"\n\n\"My darling mamma,\" answered Violet, looking seriously into her mother's\nface, surprised that she should need any further explanation, \"I have\ntold you truly who she is. It is our little snow-image which Peony and I\nhave been making. Peony will tell you so, as well as I.\"\n\n\"Yes, mamma,\" asseverated Peony, with much gravity in his crimson little\nphiz; \"this is 'ittle snow-child. Is not she a nice one? But, mamma, her\nhand is, oh, so very cold!\"\n\nWhile mamma still hesitated what to think and what to do, the street\ngate was thrown open and the father of Violet and Peony appeared,\nwrapped in a pilot-cloth sack, with a fur cap drawn down over his ears,\nand the thickest of gloves upon his hands.\n\nMr. Lindsey was a middle-aged man, with a weary and yet a happy look in\nhis wind-flushed and frost-pinched face, as if he had been busy all the\nday long and was glad to get back to his quiet home. His eyes brightened\nat the sight of his wife and children, although he could not help\nuttering a word or two of surprise at finding the whole family in the\nopen air on so bleak a day, and after sunset, too.\n\nHe soon perceived the little white stranger, sporting to and fro in the\ngarden like a dancing snow-wreath, and the flock of snowbirds fluttering\nabout her head.\n\n\"Pray, what little girl may that be?\" inquired this very sensible man.\n\"Surely her mother must be crazy to let her go out in such bitter\nweather as it has been to-day, with only that flimsy white gown and\nthose thin slippers!\"\n\n\"My dear husband,\" said his wife, \"I know no more about the little thing\nthan you do. Some neighbor's child, I suppose. Our Violet and Peony,\"\nshe added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a story, \"insist\nthat she is nothing but a snow-image which they have been busy about in\nthe garden almost all the afternoon.\"\n\nAs she said this, the mother glanced her eyes toward the spot where the\nchildren's snow-image had been made. What was her surprise on perceiving\nthat there was not the slightest trace of so much labor!--no image at\nall!--no piled-up heap of snow!--nothing whatever save the prints of\nlittle footsteps around a vacant space!\n\n\"This is very strange!\" said she.\n\n\"What is strange, dear mother?\" asked Violet. \"Dear father, do not you\nsee how it is? This is our snow-image, which Peony and I have made\nbecause we wanted another playmate. Did not we, Peony?\"\n\n\"Yes, papa,\" said crimson Peony. \"This be our 'ittle snow-sister. Is she\nnot beau-ti-ful? But she gave me such a cold kiss!\"\n\n\"Poh, nonsense, children!\" cried their good, honest father, who had a\nplain matter-of-fact way of looking at matters. \"Do not tell me of\nmaking live figures out of snow. Come, wife; this little stranger must\nnot stay out in the bleak air a moment longer. We will bring her into\nthe parlor; and you shall give her a supper of warm bread and milk, and\nmake her as comfortable as you can.\"\n\nSo saying, this honest and very kind-hearted man was going toward the\nlittle white damsel, with the best intentions in the world. But Violet\nand Peony, each seizing their father by the hand, earnestly besought him\nnot to make her come in.\n\n\"Nonsense, children, nonsense, nonsense!\" cried the father, half-vexed,\nhalf-laughing. \"Run into the house, this moment! It is too late to play\nany longer now. I must take care of this little girl, or she will catch\nher death-a-cold!\"\n\nAnd so, with a most benevolent smile, this very well-meaning gentleman\ntook the snow-child by the hand and led her toward the house.\n\nShe followed them, droopingly and reluctant, for all the glow and\nsparkle were gone out of her figure; and whereas just before she had\nresembled a bright, frosty, star-gemmed evening, with a crimson gleam on\nthe cold horizon, she now looked as dull and languid as a thaw.\n\nAs kind Mr. Lindsey led her up the steps of the door, Violet and Peony\nlooked into his face, their eyes full of tears, which froze before they\ncould run down their cheeks, and entreated him not to bring their\nsnow-image into the house.\n\n\"Not bring her in!\" exclaimed the kind-hearted man. \"Why, you are crazy,\nmy little Violet--quite crazy, my small Peony! She is so cold already\nthat her hand has almost frozen mine, in spite of my thick gloves. Would\nyou have her freeze to death?\"\n\nHis wife, as he came up the steps, had been taking another long, earnest\ngaze at the little white stranger. She hardly knew whether it was a\ndream or no; but she could not help fancying that she saw the delicate\nprint of Violet's fingers on the child's neck. It looked just as if,\nwhile Violet was shaping out the image, she had given it a gentle pat\nwith her hand, and had neglected to smooth the impression quite away.\n\n\"After all, husband,\" said the mother, \"after all, she does look\nstrangely like a snow-image! I do believe she is made of snow!\"\n\nA puff of the west wind blew against the snow-child, and again she\nsparkled like a star.\n\n\"Snow!\" repeated good Mr. Lindsey, drawing the reluctant guest over his\nhospitable threshold. \"No wonder she looks like snow. She is half\nfrozen, poor little thing! But a good fire will put everything to\nrights.\"\n\nThe common-sensible man placed the snow-child on the hearthrug, right in\nfront of the hissing and fuming stove.\n\n\"Now she will be comfortable!\" cried Mr. Lindsey, rubbing his hands and\nlooking about him, with the pleasantest smile you ever saw. \"Make\nyourself at home, my child.\"\n\nSad, sad and drooping, looked the little white maiden as she stood on\nthe hearthrug, with the hot blast of the stove striking through her like\na pestilence. Once she threw a glance toward the window, and caught a\nglimpse, through its red curtains, of the snow-covered roofs and the\nstars glimmering frostily and all the delicious intensity of the cold\nnight. The bleak wind rattled the window panes as if it were summoning\nher to come forth. But there stood the snow-child, drooping, before the\nhot stove!\n\nBut the common-sensible man saw nothing amiss.\n\n\"Come, wife,\" said he, \"let her have a pair of thick stockings and a\nwoolen shawl or blanket directly; and tell Dora to give her some warm\nsupper as soon as the milk boils. You, Violet and Peony, amuse your\nlittle friend. She is out of spirits, you see, at finding herself in a\nstrange place. For my part, I will go around among the neighbors and\nfind out where she belongs.\"\n\nThe mother, meanwhile, had gone in search of the shawl and stockings.\nWithout heeding the remonstrances of his two children, who still kept\nmurmuring that their little snow-sister did not love the warmth, good\nMr. Lindsey took his departure, shutting the parlor door carefully\nbehind him.\n\nTurning up the collar of his sack over his ears, he emerged from the\nhouse, and had barely reached the street-gate when he was recalled by\nthe screams of Violet and Peony and the rapping of a thimbled finger\nagainst the parlor window.\n\n\"Husband! husband!\" cried his wife, showing her horror-stricken face\nthrough the window panes. \"There is no need of going for the child's\nparents!\"\n\n\"We told you so, father!\" screamed Violet and Peony, as he re-entered\nthe parlor. \"You would bring her in; and now our poor--dear--beau-ti-ful\nlittle snow-sister is thawed!\"\n\nAnd their own sweet little faces were already dissolved in tears; so\nthat their father, seeing what strange things occasionally happen in\nthis everyday world, felt not a little anxious lest his children might\nbe going to thaw, too. In the utmost perplexity, he demanded an\nexplanation of his wife.\n\nShe could only reply that, being summoned to the parlor by the cries of\nViolet and Peony, she found no trace of the little white maiden, unless\nit were the remains of a heap of snow which, while she was gazing at it,\nmelted quite away upon the hearthrug.\n\n\"And there you see all that is left of it!\" added she, pointing to a\npool of water in front of the stove.\n\n\"Yes, father,\" said Violet, looking reproachfully at him through her\ntears, \"there is all that is left of our dear little snow-sister!\"\n\n\"Father!\" cried Peony, stamping his foot, and--I shudder to say--shaking\nhis little fist at the common-sensible man. \"We told you how it would\nbe. What for did you bring her in?\"\n\nAnd the stove, through the isinglass of its door, seemed to glare at\ngood Mr. Lindsey, like a red-eyed demon triumphing in the mischief which\nit had done!\n\n\n\n\nTHE CASTLE OF GEMS\n\nBY SOPHIE MAY\n\n\nOnce upon a time, though I cannot tell when, and in what country I do\nnot now remember, there lived a maiden as fair as a lily, as gentle as a\ndewdrop, and as modest as a violet. A pure, sweet name she had: It was\nBlanche.\n\nShe stood one evening, with her friend Victor, by the shore of a lake.\nNever had the youth or maiden seen the moonlight so enchanting; but they\ndid not know--\n\n \"It was midsummer day,\n When all the fairy people\n From elf-land came away.\"\n\nPresently, while they gazed at the lake, which shone like liquid emerald\nand sapphire and topaz, a boat, laden with strangely beautiful beings,\nglided toward them across the waters. The fair voyagers were clad in\nrobes of misty blue, with white mantles about their waists, and on\ntheir heads wreaths of valley-lilies.\n\nThey were all as fair as need be; but fairest of all was the\nhelms-woman, the Queen of the Fairies. Her face was soft and clear like\nmoonlight; and she wore a crown of nine large diamonds, which refracted\nthe evening rays, and formed nine lunar rainbows.\n\nThe fairies were singing a roundelay; and, as the melody floated over\nthe water, Victor and Blanche listened with throbbing hearts. Fairy\nmusic has almost passed away from the earth; but those who hear it are\nstrangely moved, and have dreams of beautiful things which have been,\nand may be again.\n\n\"It makes me think of the days of long ago when there was no sin,\"\nwhispered Blanche.\n\n\"It makes me long to be a hero,\" answered Victor with a sparkling eye.\n\nAll the while the pearly boat was drifting toward the youth and maiden;\nand, when it had touched the shore the Queen stepped out upon the land\nas lightly as if she had been made entirely of dewdrops.\n\n\"I am Fontana,\" said she: \"and is this Blanche?\"\n\nShe laid her soft hand upon the maiden's shoulder; and Blanche thought\nshe would like to die then and there, so full was she of joy.\n\n\"I have heard of thy good heart, my maiden: now what would please thee\nmost?\" inquired the Queen.\n\nBlanche bowed her head, and dared not speak.\n\nQueen Fontana smiled. When she smiled it was as if a soft cloud had slid\naway from the moon, revealing a beautiful light.\n\n\"Say pearls and diamonds,\" said Victor in her ear.\n\n\"I don't know,\" whispered Blanche; \"they are not the best things.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Queen kindly; \"pearls and diamonds are _not_ the best\nthings.\"\n\nThen Blanche knew that her whisper had been overheard, and she hid her\nface in her hands for shame. But the Queen only smiled down on her, and\nwithout speaking dropped into the ground a little seed. Right at the\nfeet of Blanche it fell; and in a moment two green leaves shot upward,\nand between them a spotless lily, which hung its head with modest grace.\n\nVictor gazed at the perfect flower in wonder, and before he knew it said\naloud: \"Ah, how like Blanche!\"\n\nThe Queen herself broke it from the stem, and gave it to the maiden,\nsaying:\n\n\"Take it! It is my choicest gift. Till it fades (which will never be),\nlove will be thine; and in time to come it will have power to open the\nstrongest locks, and swing back the heaviest doors.\n\n \"'Gates of brass cannot withstand\n One touch of this magic wand.'\"\n\nBlanche looked up to thank the Queen; but no words came--only tears.\n\n\"I see a wish in thine eyes,\" said Fontana.\n\n\"It is for Victor,\" faltered Blanche, at last; \"he wishes to be rich and\ngreat.\"\n\nThe Queen looked grave.\n\n\"Shall I make him one of the great men of the earth, little Blanche?\nThen he may one day go to the ends of the world, and forget thee.\"\n\nBlanche only smiled, and Victor's cheek flushed.\n\n\"I shall be a great man,\" said he--\"perhaps a prince; but where I go\nBlanche shall go: she will be my wife.\"\n\n\"That is well,\" said the Queen. \"Never forget Blanche, for her love will\nbe your dearest blessing.\"\n\nThen, removing from her girdle a pair of spectacles, she placed them in\nthe youth's hand. He drew back in surprise. \"Does she take me for an old\nman?\" thought he. He had expected a casket of gems at least; perhaps a\ncrown.\n\n\"Wait,\" said Fontana; \"they are the eyes of Wisdom. When you have\nlearned their use, you will not despise my gift. Keep a pure heart, and\nalways remember Blanche. And now farewell!\"\n\nSo saying, she moved on to the boat, floating over the ground as softly\nas a creeping mist.\n\nWhen Blanche awoke next morning, her first thought was, \"Happy are the\nmaidens who have sweet dreams!\" for she believed she had only been\nwandering in a midsummer's night's dream; so, when she saw her lily in\nthe broken pitcher where she had placed it, great was her delight. But a\nchange had come over it during the night. It was no longer a common\nlily; its petals were now large pearls, and the green leaves were green\nemeralds. This strange thing had happened to the flower, that it might\nnever fade.\n\nAfter this, people looked at Blanche and said: \"How is it? She grows\nfairer every day!\" And every one loved her; for the human heart has no\nchoice but to love what is good and gentle.\n\nAs for Victor, he at first put on his spectacles with a scornful smile;\nbut, when he had worn them a moment, he found them very wonderful\nthings. When he looked through them, he could see people's thoughts\nwritten out on their faces; he could easily decipher the fine writing\nwhich you see traced on green leaves; and found there were long stories\nwritten on pebbles in little black and gray dots.\n\nWhen he wore the spectacles, he looked so wise that Blanche hardly dared\nspeak to him. She saw that one day he was to become great.\n\nAt last Victor said he must leave his home, and sail across the seas.\nTears filled the eyes of Blanche; but the youth whispered:\n\n\"I am going away to find a home for you and me. So adieu, dearest\nBlanche!\"\n\nNow Victor thought the ship in which he sailed moved very slowly; for\nhe longed to reach the land which he could see through his magic\nspectacles. It was a beautiful kingdom, rich with mines of gold and\nsilver.\n\nWhen the ship touched shore, the streets were lined with people who\nwalked to and fro with sad faces. The King's daughter, a beautiful\nyoung maiden, was very ill, and it was feared she must die.\n\nVictor asked one of the people if there was no hope.\n\nIt so happened that this man was the greatest physician in the kingdom\nand he answered:\n\n\"Alas, there is no hope!\"\n\nThen Victor went to a distant forest where he knew a healing spring was\nto be found. Very few remembered it was there; and those who had seen it\ndid not know of its power to heal disease.\n\nVictor filled a crystal goblet with the precious water and carried it to\nthe palace. The old King shook his head sadly, but consented to let the\nattendants moisten the parched lips of the Princess with the water, as\nit could do no harm. Far from doing harm, it wrought a great good; and\nin time the royal maiden was restored to health.\n\nThen, for gratitude, the King would have given his daughter to Victor\nfor a wife; but Victor remembered Blanche, and knew that no other maiden\nmust be bride of his.\n\nNot long after this the King was lost overboard at sea during a storm.\nNow the people must have a new ruler. They determined to choose a wise\nand brave man; and, young as he was, no man could be found braver and\nwiser than Victor; so the people elected him for their King. Thus\nFontana's gift of the eyes of Wisdom had made him truly \"one of the\ngreat men of earth.\"\n\nIn her humble home Blanche dreamed every night of Victor, and hoped he\nwould grow good, if he did not become great; and Victor remembered\nBlanche, and knew that her love was his dearest blessing.\n\n\"This old palace,\" thought he, \"will never do for my beautiful bride.\"\n\nSo he called together his people, and told them he must have a castle of\ngems. Some of the walls were to be of rubies, some of emeralds, some of\npearls. There was to be any amount of beaten gold for doors and pillars;\nand the ceilings were to be of milk-white opals, with a rosy light which\ncomes and goes.\n\nAll was done as he desired; and when the castle of gems was finished it\nwould need a pen of jasponyx dipped in rainbows to describe it.\n\nVictor thought he would not have a guard of soldiers for his castle, but\nwould lock the four golden gates with a magic key, so that no one could\nenter unless the gates should swing back of their own accord.\n\nWhen the castle of gems was just completed, and not a soul was in it,\nVictor locked the gates with a magic key, and then dropped the key into\nthe ocean.\n\n\"Now,\" thought he, \"I have done a wise thing. None but the good and true\ncan enter my castle of gems. The gates will not swing open for men with\nbase thoughts or proud hearts!\"\n\nThen he hid himself under the shadow of a tree, and watched the people\ntrying to enter. But they were proud men, and so the gates would not\nopen.\n\nKing Victor laughed, and said to himself:\n\n\"I have done a wise thing with my magic key. How safe I shall be in my\ncastle of gems!\"\n\nSo he stepped out of his hiding place, and said to the people:\n\n\"None but the good and true can get in.\"\n\nThen he tried to go in himself; but the gates would not move.\n\nThe King bowed his head in shame, and walked back to his old palace.\n\n\"Alas!\" said he to himself, \"wise and great as I am, I thought I could\ngo in. I see it must be because I am filled with pride. Let me hide my\nface; for what would Blanche say if she knew, that, because my heart is\nproud, I am shut out of my own castle? I am not worthy that she should\nlove me; but I hope I shall learn of her to be humble and good.\"\n\nThe next day he sailed for the home of his childhood. When Blanche saw\nhim she blushed and cast down her eyes; but Victor knew they were full\nof tears of joy. He held her hand, and whispered:\n\n\"Will you go with me and be my bride, beautiful Blanche?\"\n\n\"I will go with you,\" she answered softly; and Victor's heart rejoiced.\n\nAll the while Blanche never dreamed that he was a great Prince, and that\nthe men who came with him were his courtiers.\n\nWhen they reached Victor's kingdom, and the people shouted \"Long live\nthe Queen!\" Blanche veiled her face and trembled; for Victor whispered\nin her ear that the shouts were for her. And as the people saw her\nbeautiful face through her gossamer veil, they cried all the more\nloudly:\n\n\"Long live Queen Blanche! Thrice welcome, fair lady!\"\n\nThe sun was sinking in the west, and his rays fell with dazzling\nsplendor upon the castle of gems. When Blanche saw the silent, closed\ncastle and its golden gates she remembered the words of Queen Fontana,\nwho had said that her lily should have power to \"open the strongest\nlocks, and swing back the heaviest doors.\"\n\nLike one walking in a dream, she led Victor toward the resplendent\ncastle. She touched with her lily the lock which fastened one of the\ngates.\n\n \"Gates of gold could not withstand\n One touch of that magic wand.\"\n\nIn an instant, the hinges trembled; and the massive door swung open so\nfar that forty people could walk in side by side. Then it slowly closed,\nand locked itself without noise.\n\nOne of the people who passed in was the King, whose heart was no longer\nproud. The others, who had entered unwittingly, could not speak for\nwonder. Some of them were poor, and some were lame or blind; but all\nwere good and true.\n\nAt the rising of the moon a wonderful thing came to pass. The people\nentered the castle of gems and became beautiful. This was through the\npower of the magic lily.\n\nNow there were no more crooked backs, and lame feet, and sightless eyes;\nand the King looked at these people, who were beautiful as well as good,\nand declared he would have them live in the castle; and the gentlemen\nshould be knights; and the ladies maids of honor.\n\nTo this day Victor and Blanche rule the kingdom; and such is the charm\nof the lily--so like the pure heart of the Queen--that the people are\nbecoming gentle and good.\n\nUntil Queen Fontana shall call for the magic spectacles and the lily of\npearl, it is believed that Victor and Blanche will live in the castle of\ngems, though the time should be a hundred years.\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEN THAT HATCHED DUCKS\n\nBY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE\n\n\nOnce there was a nice young hen that we will call Mrs. Feathertop. She\nwas a hen of most excellent family, being a direct descendant of the\nBolton Grays, and as pretty a young fowl as you wish to see of a\nsummer's day. She was, moreover, as fortunately situated in life as it\nwas possible for a hen to be. She was bought by young Master Fred Little\nJohn, with four or five family connections of hers, and a lively young\ncock, who was held to be as brisk a scratcher and as capable a head of a\nfamily as any half-dozen sensible hens could desire.\n\nI can't say that at first Mrs. Feathertop was a very sensible hen. She\nwas very pretty and lively, to be sure, and a great favorite with Master\nBolton Gray Cock, on account of her bright eyes, her finely shaded\nfeathers, and certain saucy dashing ways that she had, which seemed\ngreatly to take his fancy. But old Mrs. Scratchard, living in the\nneighboring yard, assured all the neighborhood that Gray Cock was a fool\nfor thinking so much of that flighty young thing--that she had not the\nsmallest notion how to get on in life, and thought of nothing in the\nworld but her own pretty feathers. \"Wait till she comes to have\nchickens,\" said Mrs. Scratchard. \"Then you will see. I have brought up\nten broods myself--as likely and respectable chickens as ever were a\nblessing to society--and I think I ought to know a good hatcher and\nbrooder when I see her; and I know _that_ fine piece of trumpery, with\nher white feathers tipped with gray, never will come down to family\nlife. _She_ scratch for chickens! Bless me, she never did anything in\nall her days but run round and eat the worms which somebody else\nscratched up for her!\"\n\nWhen Master Bolton Gray heard this he crowed very loudly, like a cock of\nspirit, and declared that old Mrs. Scratchard was envious because she\nhad lost all her own tail-feathers, and looked more like a worn-out old\nfeather duster than a respectable hen, and that therefore she was filled\nwith sheer envy of anybody that was young and pretty. So young Mrs.\nFeathertop cackled gay defiance at her busy rubbishy neighbor, as she\nsunned herself under the bushes on fine June afternoons.\n\nNow Master Fred Little John had been allowed to have these hens by his\nmamma on the condition that he would build their house himself, and take\nall the care of it; and, to do Master Fred justice, he executed the job\nin a small way quite creditably. He chose a sunny sloping bank covered\nwith a thick growth of bushes, and erected there a nice little\nhen-house, with two glass windows, a little door, and a good pole for\nhis family to roost on. He made, moreover, a row of nice little boxes\nwith hay in them for nests, and he bought three or four little smooth\nwhite china eggs to put in them, so that, when his hens _did_ lay, he\nmight carry off their eggs without their being missed. The hen-house\nstood in a little grove that sloped down to a wide river, just where\nthere was a little cove which reached almost to the hen-house.\n\nThe situation inspired one of Master Fred's boy advisers with a new\nscheme in relation to his poultry enterprise. \"Hullo! I say, Fred,\" said\nTom Seymour, \"you ought to raise ducks--you've got a capital place for\nducks there.\"\n\n\"Yes, but I've bought _hens_, you see,\" said Freddy; \"so it's no use\ntrying.\"\n\n\"No use! Of course there is! Just as if your hens couldn't hatch ducks'\neggs. Now, you just wait till one of your hens wants to set, and you put\nducks' eggs under her, and you'll have a family of ducks in a twinkling.\nYou can buy ducks' eggs, a plenty, of old Sam under the hill; he always\nhas hens hatch his ducks.\"\n\nSo Freddy thought it would be a good experiment, and informed his mother\nthe next morning that he intended to furnish the ducks for the next\nChristmas dinner; and when she wondered how he was to come by them,\nhe said, mysteriously, \"O, I will show you how!\" but did not further\nexplain himself. The next day he went with Tom Seymour, and made a trade\nwith old Sam, and gave him a middle-aged jack-knife for eight of his\nducks' eggs. Sam, by the bye, was a woolly-headed old negro man, who\nlived by the pond hard by, and who had long cast envying eyes on Fred's\njack-knife, because it was of extra-fine steel, having been a Christmas\npresent the year before. But Fred knew very well there were any number\nmore of jack-knives where that came from, and that, in order to get a\nnew one, he must dispose of the old; so he made the trade and came home\nrejoicing.\n\nNow, about this time Mrs. Feathertop, having laid her eggs daily with\ngreat credit to herself, notwithstanding Mrs. Scratchard's predictions,\nbegan to find herself suddenly attacked with nervous symptoms. She lost\nher gay spirits, grew dumpish and morose, stuck up her feathers in a\nbristling way, and pecked at her neighbors if they did so much as\nlook at her. Master Gray Cock was greatly concerned, and went to old\nDoctor Peppercorn, who looked solemn and recommended an infusion of\nangle-worms, and said he would look in on the patient twice a day till\nshe was better.\n\n\"Gracious me, Gray Cock!\" said old Goody Kertarkut, who had been\nlolling at the corner as he passed, \"a'n't you a fool?--cocks always\nare fools. Don't you know what's the matter with your wife? She wants\nto set--that's all; and you just let her set! A fiddlestick for Doctor\nPeppercorn! Why, any good old hen that has brought up a family knows\nmore than a doctor about such things. You just go home and tell her to\nset, if she wants to, and behave herself.\"\n\nWhen Gray Cock came home, he found that Master Freddy had been before\nhim, and established Mrs. Feathertop upon eight nice eggs, where\nshe was sitting in gloomy grandeur. He tried to make a little affable\nconversation with her, and to relate his interview with the Doctor and\nGoody Kertarkut, but she was morose and sullen, and only pecked at him\nnow and then in a very sharp, unpleasant way; so, after a few more\nefforts to make himself agreeable, he left her, and went out promenading\nwith the captivating Mrs. Red Comb, a charming young Spanish widow, who\nhad just been imported into the neighboring yard.\n\n\"Bless my soul!\" said he, \"you've no idea how cross my wife is.\"\n\n\"O you horrid creature!\" said Mrs. Red Comb; \"how little you feel for\nthe weaknesses of us poor hens!\"\n\n\"On my word, ma'am,\" said Gray Cock, \"you do me injustice. But when a\nhen gives way to temper, ma'am and no longer meets her husband with a\nsmile--when she even pecks at him whom she is bound to honor and\nobey----\"\n\n\"Horrid monster! talking of obedience! I should say, sir, you came\nstraight from Turkey!\" And Mrs. Red Comb tossed her head with a most\nbewitching air, and pretended to run away, and old Mrs. Scratchard\nlooked out of her coop and called to Goody Kertarkut:\n\n\"Look how Mr. Gray Cock is flirting with that widow. I always knew she\nwas a baggage.\"\n\n\"And his poor wife left at home alone,\" said Goody Kertarkut. \"It's the\nway with 'em all!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Dame Scratchard, \"she'll know what real life is now,\nand she won't go about holding her head so high, and looking down on her\npractical neighbors that have raised families.\"\n\n\"Poor thing, what'll she do with a family?\" said Goody Kertarkut.\n\n\"Well, what business have such young flirts to get married,\" said Dame\nScratchard. \"I don't expect she'll raise a single chick; and there's\nGray Cock flirting about fine as ever. Folks didn't do so when I was\nyoung. I'm sure my husband knew what treatment a setting hen ought to\nhave--poor old Long Spur--he never minded a peck or so now and then. I\nmust say these modern fowls a'n't what fowls used to be.\"\n\nMeanwhile the sun rose and set, and Master Fred was almost the only\nfriend and associate of poor little Mrs. Feathertop, whom he fed daily\nwith meal and water, and only interrupted her sad reflections by pulling\nher up occasionally to see how the eggs were coming on.\n\nAt last \"Peep, peep, peep!\" began to be heard in the nest, and one\nlittle downy head after another poked forth from under the feathers,\nsurveying the world with round, bright, winking eyes; and gradually the\nbrood was hatched, and Mrs. Feathertop arose, a proud and happy mother,\nwith all the bustling, scratching, caretaking instincts of family\nlife warm within her breast. She clucked and scratched, and cuddled\nthe little downy bits of things as handily and discreetly as a\nseven-year-old hen could have done, exciting thereby the wonder of the\ncommunity.\n\nMaster Gray Cock came home in high spirits and complimented her; told\nher she was looking charmingly once more, and said, \"Very well, very\nnice!\" as he surveyed the young brood. So that Mrs. Feathertop began\nto feel the world going well with her, when suddenly in came Dame\nScratchard and Goody Kertarkut to make a morning call.\n\n\"Let's see the chicks,\" said Dame Scratchard.\n\n\"Goodness me,\" said Goody Kertarkut, \"what a likeness to their dear\npapa!\"\n\n\"Well, but bless me, what's the matter with their bills?\" said Dame\nScratchard. \"Why, my dear, these chicks are deformed! I'm sorry for you,\nmy dear, but it's all the result of your inexperience; you ought to have\neaten pebble-stones with your meal when you were setting. Don't you see,\nDame Kertarkut, what bills they have? That'll increase, and they'll be\nfrightful!\"\n\n\"What shall I do?\" said Mrs. Feathertop, now greatly alarmed.\n\n\"Nothing as I know of,\" said Dame Scratchard, \"since you didn't come to\nme before you set. I could have told you all about it. Maybe it won't\nkill 'em, but they'll always be deformed.\"\n\nAnd so the gossips departed, leaving a sting under the pin-feathers of\nthe poor little hen mamma, who began to see that her darlings had\ncurious little spoon-bills different from her own, and to worry and fret\nabout it.\n\n\"My dear,\" she said to her spouse, \"do get Doctor Peppercorn to come in\nand look at their bills, and see if anything can be done.\"\n\nDoctor Peppercorn came in, and put on a monstrous pair of spectacles and\nsaid: \"Hum! Ha! Extraordinary case--very singular!\"\n\n\"Did you ever see anything like it, Doctor?\" said both parents, in a\nbreath.\n\n\"I've read of such cases. It's a calcareous enlargement of the vascular\nbony tissue, threatening ossification,\" said the Doctor.\n\n\"Oh, dreadful!--can it be possible?\" shrieked both parents. \"Can\nanything be done?\"\n\n\"Well, I should recommend a daily lotion made of mosquitoes' horns and\nbicarbonate of frogs' toes together with a powder, to be taken morning\nand night, of muriate of fleas. One thing you must be careful about:\nthey must never wet their feet, nor drink any water.\"\n\n\"Dear me, Doctor, I don't know what I _shall_ do, for they seem to have\na particular fancy for getting into water.\"\n\n\"Yes, a morbid tendency often found in these cases of bony tumification\nof the vascular tissue of the mouth; but you must resist it, ma'am,\nas their life depends upon it.\" And with that Doctor Peppercorn\nglared gloomily on the young ducks, who were stealthily poking the\nobjectionable little spoon-bills out from under their mothers' feathers.\n\nAfter this poor Mrs. Feathertop led a weary life of it; for the young\nfry were as healthy and enterprising a brood of young ducks as ever\ncarried saucepans on the end of their noses, and they most utterly set\nthemselves against the doctor's prescriptions, murmured at the muriate\nof fleas and the bicarbonate of frogs' toes and took every opportunity\nto waddle their little ways down to the mud and water which was in their\nnear vicinity. So their bills grew larger and larger, as did the rest of\ntheir bodies, and family government grew weaker and weaker.\n\n\"You'll wear me out children, you certainly will,\" said poor Mrs.\nFeathertop.\n\n\"You'll go to destruction, do ye hear?\" said Master Gray Cock.\n\n\"Did you ever see such frights as poor Mrs. Feathertop has got?\" said\nDame Scratchard. \"I knew what would come of _her_ family--all deformed,\nand with a dreadful sort of madness, which makes them love to shovel mud\nwith those shocking spoon-bills of theirs.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"THEY MUST NEVER WET THEIR FEET, NOR DRINK ANY WATER,\"\n SAID THE DOCTOR]\n\n\"It's a kind of idiocy,\" said Goody Kertarkut. \"Poor things! they\ncan't be kept from the water, nor made to take powders, and so they got\nworse and worse.\"\n\n\"I understand it's affecting their feet so that they can't walk, and a\ndreadful sort of net is growing between their toes; what a shocking\nvisitation!\"\n\n\"She brought it on herself,\" said Dame Scratchard. \"Why didn't she come\nto me before she set? She was always an upstart, self-conceited thing,\nbut I'm sure I pity her.\"\n\nMeanwhile the young ducks throve apace. Their necks grew glossy like\nchangeable green and gold satin, and though they would not take the\ndoctor's medicine, and would waddle in the mud and water--for which they\nalways felt themselves to be very naughty ducks--yet they grew quite\nvigorous and hearty. At last one day the whole little tribe waddled off\ndown to the bank of the river. It was a beautiful day, and the river was\ndancing and dimpling and winking as the little breezes shook the trees\nthat hung over it.\n\n\"Well,\" said the biggest of the little ducks, \"in spite of Doctor\nPeppercorn I can't help longing for the water. I don't believe it is\ngoing to hurt me; at any rate, here goes.\" And in he plumped, and in\nwent every duck after him, and they threw out their great brown feet as\ncleverly as if they had taken rowing-lessons all their lives, and sailed\noff on the river, away, away, among the ferns, under the pink azalias,\nthrough reeds and rushes and arrow-heads and pickerel-weed, the happiest\nducks that ever were born; and soon they were quite out of sight.\n\n\"Well, Mrs. Feathertop, this is a dispensation,\" said Mrs. Scratchard.\n\"Your children are all drowned at last, just as I knew they'd be. The\nold music-teacher Master Bullfrog, that lives down in Water-Dock Lane,\nsaw 'em all plump madly into the water together this morning; that's\nwhat comes of not knowing how to bring up a family.\"\n\nMrs. Feathertop gave only one shriek and fainted dead away, and was\ncarried home on a cabbage leaf, and Mr. Gray Cock was sent for, where he\nwas waiting on Mrs. Red Comb through the squash vines.\n\n\"It's a serious time in your family, sir,\" said Goody Kertarkut, \"and\nyou ought to be at home supporting your wife. Send for Doctor Peppercorn\nwithout delay.\"\n\nNow as the case was a very dreadful one, Doctor Peppercorn called a\ncouncil from the barnyard of the Squire two miles off, and a brisk\nyoung Doctor Partlett appeared in a fine suit of brown and gold, with\ntail-feathers like meteors. A fine young fellow he was, lately from\nParis, with all the modern scientific improvements fresh in his head.\n\nWhen he had listened to the whole story, he clapped his spur into the\nground, and, leaning back laughed so loud that all the cocks in the\nneighborhood crowed.\n\nMrs. Feathertop rose up out of her swoon, and Mr. Gray Cock was greatly\nenraged.\n\n\"What do you mean, sir, by such behavior in the house of mourning?\"\n\n\"My dear sir, pardon me, but there is no occasion for mourning. My dear\nmadam, let me congratulate you. There is no harm done. The simple matter\nis, dear madam, you have been under a hallucination all along. The\nneighborhood and my learned friend the doctor have all made a mistake in\nthinking that these children of yours were hens at all. They are ducks,\nma'am, evidently ducks, and very finely formed ducks, I dare say.\"\n\nAt this moment a quack was heard, and at a distance the whole tribe were\nseen coming waddling home, their feathers gleaming in green and gold,\nand they themselves in high good spirits.\n\n\"Such a splendid day as we have had!\" they all cried in a breath. \"And\nwe know now how to get our own living; we can take care of ourselves in\nfuture, so you need have no further trouble with us.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said the Doctor, making a bow with an air which displayed his\ntail-feathers to advantage, \"let me congratulate you on the charming\nfamily you have raised. A finer brood of young healthy ducks I never\nsaw. Give claw, my dear friend,\" he said, addressing the elder son. \"In\nour barnyard no family is more respected than that of the ducks.\"\n\nAnd so Madam Feathertop came off glorious at last; and when after this\nthe ducks used to go swimming up and down the river, like so many\nnabobs, among the admiring hens, Doctor Peppercorn used to look after\nthem and say: \"Ah! I had the care of their infancy!\"\n\nAnd Mr. Gray Cock and his wife used to say to each other: \"It was our\nsystem of education did that!\"\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE BALLAD OF PIPING WILL]\n\nBY ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH\n\n\n There was a lad named Piping Will\n With tattered coat and poor;\n He had no home to bide him in,\n But roamed from door to door.\n\n This lad had naught except a pipe\n On which he used to play;\n Yet never lad did laugh so free,\n Nor had a look so gay.\n\n \"Nay, bide, thou merry piper-boy!\"\n The kindly house-dames said.\n \"The roads are rough, the skies are wild,\n And thou dost lack for bread.\n\n \"The hills are steep, the stones unkind--\n Why wilt thou always roam?\n And winter turns a barren heart\n To them that have no home.\"\n\n Then would he smile and pipe awhile,\n But would not ever stay.\n How strange that he could be so poor,\n Yet have a heart so gay!\n\n And so the good folk shook their heads,\n And they would turn and stare\n To see him piping through the fields.\n What was he doing there?\n\n It fell about the blithe Yule-tide,\n When winter winds were keen,\n The Burgomaster's little maid\n Slipped from the house unseen;\n\n For she had heard that in the wood\n The dear snow-children run,\n And play where shadows are most cold\n And where there is no sun.\n\n But lo, the evening hurried on,\n And bitter sleet blew cold;\n It whitened all her scarlet cloak\n And flying locks of gold.\n\n The road was hid, and she was lost,\n And knew not where to go;\n And still the sharp blast swept her on,\n Whether she would or no.\n\n Now who is this amid the sleet?\n His face she cannot see!\n He tunes his pipe against the wind,\n As merry as can be.\n\n He tunes his pipe against the wind\n With music sweet and wild,\n When lo, a fluttering scarlet cape,\n The sobbing of a child!\n\n He took her up and held her close;\n \"I'll take you home,\" he said.\n But still the little maid sobbed on,\n Nor was she comforted.\n\n \"What! Cold and hungry, little maid,\n And frightened of the storm?\n I'll play upon my pipe,\" said he,\n \"And that will keep you warm!\"\n\n And lo, when first he blew his pipe,\n It was a wondrous thing--\n The sleet and snow turned all to flowers,\n The birds began to sing!\n\n When next he blew upon his pipe,\n She marveled more and more;\n For, built of gold with strange device,\n A palace rose before!\n\n A lovely lady led them in,\n And there they sat them down;\n The piper wore a purple cloak,\n And she a snow-white gown.\n\n And there was song and light and cheer,\n Feasting and everything!\n Who would have thought that Piping Will\n Could be so great a king?\n\n The third time that he blew his pipe\n They took her to the queen;\n Her hair was yellow as the sun,\n And she was clothed in green.\n\n [Illustration: \"THEY TOOK HER TO THE QUEEN\"]\n\n Yet did she kiss that little maid,\n Who should no longer roam--\n When lo, the dear dream flashed away,\n And there she was at home!\n\n \"Make this thy home, thou Piping Will,\"\n The Burgomaster cried.\n \"Thou hast restored our little maid!\n I tell thee, thou must bide.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"'NAY, BIDE, THOU MERRY PIPER BOY!' THE KINDLY\n HOUSE-DAMES SAID\"]\n\n [Illustration]\n\n \"Make this thy home, thou Piping Will,\"\n The bustling mother said.\n \"Come, warm thyself before the hearth\n And eat the good white bread.\"\n\n But Piping Will would only smile:\n \"Good friends, I cannot wait!\"\n (Who could have thought that tattered coat\n Had been a robe of state!)\n\n So forth he fared into the night,\n And, piping, went his way.\n \"How strange,\" they said, \"a lad so poor\n Can have a heart so gay!\"\n\n Only the little maid that sat\n Upon her father's knee\n Remembered how they two had fared\n That night right pleasantly.\n\n And as she ate her bread and milk,\n So close and safe and warm,\n She wondered what strange, lovely lands\n He wrought of wind and storm.\n\n For he that plays a fairy pipe\n Is lord of everything!\n She laughed to think that Piping Will\n Should be so great a king.\n\n [Illustration: \"A LOVELY LADY LED THEM IN\"]\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE ANNIE'S DREAM, OR THE FAIRY FLOWER\n\nBY LOUISA M. ALCOTT\n\n\nIn a large and pleasant garden sat little Annie, all alone, and she\nseemed very sad, for drops that were not dew fell fast upon the flowers\nbeside her, which looked wonderingly up, and bent still nearer, as if\nthey longed to cheer and comfort her. The warm wind lifted up her\nshining hair, and softly kissed her cheek, while the sunbeams, looking\nmost kindly in her face, made little rainbows in her tears, and lingered\nlovingly about her. But Annie paid no heed to sun, or wind, or flower;\nstill the bright tears fell, and she forgot all but her sorrow.\n\n\"Little Annie, tell me why you weep,\" said a low voice in her ear; and,\nlooking up, the child beheld a little figure standing on a vine leaf at\nher side; a lovely face smiled on her from amid bright locks of hair,\nand shining wings were folded on a white and glittering robe that\nfluttered in the wind.\n\n\"Who are you, lovely little thing?\" cried Annie, smiling through her\ntears.\n\n\"I am a Fairy, little child, and am come to help and comfort you; now\ntell me why you weep, and let me be your friend,\" replied the spirit, as\nshe smiled more kindly still on Annie's wondering face.\n\n\"And are you really, then, a little Elf, such as I read of in my fairy\nbooks? Do you ride on butterflies, sleep in flower-cups, and live among\nthe clouds?\"\n\n\"Yes, all these things I do, and many stranger still that all your fairy\nbooks can never tell; but now, dear Annie,\" said the Fairy, bending\nnearer, \"tell me why I found no sunshine on your face; why are these\ngreat drops shining on the flower and why do you sit alone when bird and\nbee are calling you to play?\"\n\n\"Ah, you will not love me any more if I should tell you all,\" said\nAnnie, while the tears began to fall again; \"I am not happy, for I am\nnot good; how shall I learn to be a patient, gentle child? Good little\nFairy, will you teach me how?\"\n\n\"Gladly will I aid you Annie. The task is hard, but I will give this\nfairy flower to help and counsel you. Bend hither, that I may place it\non your breast; no hand can take it hence, till I unsay the spell that\nholds it there.\"\n\nAs thus she spoke, the Elf took from her bosom a graceful flower, whose\nsnow-white leaves shone with a strange, soft light. \"This is a fairy\nflower,\" said the Elf, \"invisible to every eye save yours; now listen\nwhile I tell its power, Annie. When your heart is filled with loving\nthoughts, when some kindly deed has been done, some duty well performed,\nthen from the flower there will arise the sweetest, softest fragrance,\nto reward and gladden you. But when an unkind word is on your lips, when\na selfish, angry feeling rises in your heart, or an unkind, cruel deed\nis to be done, then will you hear the soft, low chime of the flower\nbell; listen to its warning, let the word remain unspoken, the deed\nundone, and in the quiet joy of your own heart, and the magic perfume\nof your bosom flower, you will find a sweet reward.\"\n\n\"O kind and generous Fairy, how can I ever thank you for this lovely\ngift!\" cried Annie. \"I will be true, and listen to my little bell\nwhenever it may ring. But shall I never see you more? Ah! if you would\nonly stay with me, I should indeed be good.\"\n\n\"I cannot stay now, little Annie,\" said the Elf, \"but when another\nSpring comes round, I shall be here again, to see how well the fairy\ngift has done its work. And now farewell, dear child; be faithful to\nyourself, and the magic flower will never fade.\"\n\nThen the gentle Fairy folded her little arms around Annie's neck, laid a\nsoft kiss on her cheek, and, spreading wide her shining wings, flew\nsinging up among the white clouds floating in the sky.\n\nAnd little Annie sat among her flowers, and watched with wondering joy\nthe fairy blossom shining on her breast.\n\nThe pleasant days of Spring and Summer passed away, and in little\nAnnie's garden Autumn flowers were blooming everywhere, with each day's\nsun and dew growing still more beautiful and bright; but the fairy\nflower, that should have been the loveliest of all, hung pale and\ndrooping on little Annie's bosom; its fragrance seemed quite gone, and\nthe clear, low music of its warning chime rang often in her ear.\n\nWhen first the Fairy placed it there, she had been pleased with her new\ngift, and for a while obeyed the fairy bell, and often tried to win some\nfragrance from the flower by kind and pleasant words and actions; then,\nas the Fairy said, she found a sweet reward in the strange, soft perfume\nof the magic blossom as it shone upon her breast; but selfish thoughts\nwould come to tempt her, she would yield, and unkind words fell from her\nlips; and then the flower drooped pale and scentless, the fairy bell\nrang mournfully, Annie would forget her better resolutions, and be again\na selfish, willful little child.\n\nAt last she tried no longer, but grew angry with the faithful flower,\nand would have torn it from her breast; but the fairy spell still held\nit fast, and all her angry words but made it ring a louder, sadder peal.\nThen she paid no heed to the silvery music sounding in her ear, and each\nday grew still more unhappy, discontented, and unkind; so, when the\nAutumn days came round, she was no better for the gentle Fairy's gift,\nand longed for Spring, that it might be returned; for now the constant\necho of the mournful music made her very sad.\n\nOne sunny morning, when the fresh, cool winds were blowing, and not a\ncloud was in the sky, little Annie walked among her flowers, looking\ncarefully into each, hoping thus to find the Fairy, who alone could take\nthe magic blossom from her breast. But she lifted up their drooping\nleaves, peeped into their dewy cups in vain; no little Elf lay hidden\nthere, and she turned sadly from them all, saying: \"I will go out into\nthe fields and woods, and seek her there. I will not listen to this\ntiresome music more, nor wear this withered flower longer.\" So out into\nthe fields she went, where the long grass rustled as she passed, and\ntimid birds looked at her from their nests; where lovely wild flowers\nnodded in the wind, and opened wide their fragrant leaves to welcome in\nthe murmuring bees, while butterflies, like winged flowers, danced and\nglittered in the sun.\n\nLittle Annie looked, searched, and asked them all if any one could tell\nher of the Fairy whom she sought; but the birds looked wonderingly at\nher with their soft, bright eyes, and still sang on; the flowers nodded\nwisely on their stems, but did not speak, while butterfly and bee buzzed\nand fluttered away, one far too busy, the other too idle, to stay and\ntell her what she asked.\n\nThen she went through broad fields of yellow grain that waved around her\nlike a golden forest; here crickets chirped, grasshoppers leaped, and\nbusy ants worked, but they could not tell her what she longed to know.\n\n\"Now will I go among the hills,\" said Annie, \"she may be there.\" So up\nand down the green hillsides went her little feet; long she searched and\nvainly she called; but still no Fairy came. Then by the riverside she\nwent, and asked the gay dragon flies and the cool white lilies if the\nFairy had been there; but the blue waves rippled on the white sand at\nher feet, and no voice answered her.\n\nThen into the forest little Annie went; and as she passed along the dim,\ncool paths, the wood-flowers smiled up in her face, gay squirrels peeped\nat her, as they swung amid the vines, and doves cooed softly as she\nwandered by; but none could answer her. So, weary with her long and\nuseless search, she sat amid the ferns, and feasted on the rosy\nstrawberries that grew beside her, watching meanwhile the crimson\nevening clouds that glowed around the setting sun.\n\nThe night-wind rustled through the boughs, and when the autumn moon rose\nup, her silver light shone on the child, where, pillowed on green moss,\nshe lay asleep amid the wood-flowers in the dim old forest.\n\nAnd all night long beside her stood the Fairy she had sought, and by\nelfin spell and charm sent to the sleeping child this dream.\n\nLittle Annie dreamed she sat in her own garden, as she had often sat\nbefore, with angry feelings in her heart, and unkind words upon her\nlips. The magic flower was ringing its soft warning, but she paid no\nheed to anything, save her own troubled thoughts; thus she sat, when\nsuddenly a low voice whispered in her ear: \"Little Annie, look and see\nthe evil things that you are cherishing.\"\n\nThen Annie saw, with fear and wonder, that the angry words she uttered\nchanged to dark, unlovely forms, each showing plainly from what fault or\npassion it had sprung. Some of the shapes had scowling faces and bright,\nfiery eyes; these were the spirits of Anger. Others, with sullen,\nanxious, looks seemed gathering up all they could reach, and Annie saw\nthat the more they gained, the less they seemed to have; and these she\nknew were shapes of Selfishness. Spirits of Pride were there, who folded\ntheir shadowy garments round them, and turned scornfully away from all\nthe rest. These and many others little Annie saw, which had come from\nher own heart, and taken form before her eyes.\n\nWhen first she saw them, they were small and weak; but as she looked\nthey seemed to grow and gather strength, and each gained a strange power\nover her. She could not drive them from her sight, and they grew ever\nstronger, darker, and more unlovely to her eyes. They seemed to cast\nblack shadows over all around, to dim the sunshine, blight the flowers,\nand drive away all bright and lovely things; while rising slowly round\nher Annie saw a high, dark wall, that seemed to shut out everything she\nloved; she dared not move, or speak, but, with a strange fear at her\nheart, sat watching the dim shapes that hovered round her.\n\nHigher and higher rose the shadowy wall. Slowly the flowers near her\ndied, lingeringly the sunlight faded; but at last they both were gone,\nand left her all alone behind the gloomy wall. Then she could hear no\nmore, but, sinking down among the withered flowers, wept sad and bitter\ntears, for her lost liberty and joy; then through the gloom there shone\na faint, soft light, and on her breast she saw her fairy flower, upon\nwhose snow-white leaves her tears lay shining.\n\nClearer and brighter grew the radiant light, till the evil spirits\nturned away to the dark shadow of the wall, and left the child alone.\n\nThe light and perfume of the flower seemed to bring new strength to\nAnnie, and she rose up, saying, as she bent to kiss the blossom on her\nbreast: \"Dear flower, help and guide me now, and I will listen to your\nvoice, and cheerfully obey my faithful fairy bell.\"\n\nThen in her dreams she felt how hard the spirits tried to tempt and\ntrouble her, and how, but for her flower, they would have led her back,\nand made all dark and dreary as before. Long and hard she struggled, and\ntears often fell; but after each new trial, brighter shone her magic\nflower, and sweeter grew its breath, while the spirits lost still more\ntheir power to tempt her. Meanwhile, green, flowering vines crept up the\nhigh, dark wall, and hid its roughness from her sight; and over these\nshe watched most tenderly, for soon, wherever green leaves and flowers\nbloomed, the wall beneath grew weak, and fell apart. Thus little Annie\nworked and hoped, till one by one the evil spirits fled away, and in\ntheir place came shining forms, with gentle eyes and smiling lips, who\ngathered round her with such loving words, and brought such strength and\njoy to Annie's heart, that nothing evil dared to enter in; while slowly\nsank the gloomy wall, and, over wreaths of fragrant flowers, she passed\nout into the pleasant world again, the fairy gift no longer pale and\ndrooping, but now shining like a star upon her breast.\n\nThen the low voice spoke again in Annie's sleeping ear, saying:\n\"Remember well the lesson of the dream, dear child, and let the shining\nspirits make your heart their home.\"\n\nAnd with that voice sounding in her ear, little Annie woke to find it\nwas a dream; but like other dreams it did not pass away; and as she sat\nalone, bathed in the rosy morning light, and watched the forest waken\ninto life, she silently resolved to strive, as she had striven in her\ndream, to bring back light and beauty to its faded leaves, by being what\nthe Fairy hoped to render her, a patient, gentle little child. And as\nthe thought came to her mind, the flower raised its drooping head, and,\nlooking up into the earnest little face bent over it, seemed by its\nfragrant breath to answer Annie's silent thought, and strengthen her for\nwhat might come.\n\nMeanwhile the forest was astir, birds sang their gay good-morrows from\ntree to tree, while leaf and flower turned to greet the sun, who rose up\nsmiling on the world; and so beneath the forest boughs and through the\ndewy fields went little Annie home, better and wiser for her dream.\n\n * * *\n\nAutumn flowers were dead and gone, white winter snow fell softly down;\nyet now, when all without looked dark and dreary, on little Annie's\nbreast the fairy flower bloomed more beautiful than ever. The memory of\nher forest dream had never passed away, and through trial and temptation\nshe had been true, and kept her resolution still unbroken; seldom now\ndid the warning bell sound in her ear, and seldom did the flower's\nfragrance cease to float about her, or the fairy light to brighten all\nwhereon it fell.\n\nSo, through the long, cold winter, little Annie dwelt like a sunbeam in\nher home, each day growing richer in the love of others, and happier in\nherself; often was she tempted, but, remembering her dream, she listened\nonly to the music of the fairy bell, and the unkind thought or feeling\nfled away, the smiling spirits of gentleness and love nestled in her\nheart, and all was bright again.\n\nAt length, one day, as she sat singing in the sunny nook where all her\nfairest flowers bloomed, weary with gazing at the far-off sky for the\nlittle forms she hoped would come, she bent to look with joyful love\nupon her bosom flower; and as she looked, its folded leaves spread wide\napart, and, rising slowly from the deep white cup, appeared the smiling\nface of the lovely Elf whose coming she had waited for so long.\n\n\"Dear Annie, look for me no longer; I am here on your breast, for you\nhave learned to love my gift, and it has done its work most faithfully\nand well,\" the Fairy said, as she looked into the happy child's bright\nface, and laid her little arms most tenderly about her neck.\n\n\"And now have I brought another gift from Fairy-land, as a fit reward\nfor you, dear child,\" she said, when Annie had told all her gratitude\nand love; then, touching the child with her shining wand, the Fairy bid\nher look and listen silently.\n\nAnd suddenly the world, to Annie, seemed changed for the air was filled\nwith strange, sweet sounds, and all around her floated lovely forms. In\nevery flower sat little smiling Elves, singing gayly as they rocked amid\nthe leaves. On every breeze, bright, airy spirits came floating by; some\nfanned her cheek with their cool breath, and waved her long hair to and\nfro, while others rang the flower-bells, and made a pleasant rustling\namong the leaves. In the fountain, where the water danced and sparkled\nin the sun, astride of every drop she saw merry little spirits, who\nplashed and floated in the clear, cool waves, and sang as gayly as the\nflowers, on whom they scattered glittering dew. The tall trees, as\ntheir branches rustled in the wind, sang a low, dreamy song, while the\nwaving grass was filled with little voices she had never heard before.\nButterflies whispered lovely tales in her ear, and birds sang cheerful\nsongs in a sweet language she had never understood before. Earth and air\nseemed filled with beauty and with music she had never dreamed of until\nnow.\n\n\"Oh, tell me what it means, dear Fairy! is it another and a lovelier\ndream, or is the earth in truth so beautiful as this?\" she cried,\nlooking with wondering joy upon the Elf, who lay upon the flower on her\nbreast.\n\n\"Yes, it is true, dear child,\" replied the Fairy, \"and few are the\nmortals to whom we give this lovely gift; what to you is now so full of\nmusic and of light, to others is but a pleasant summer world; they never\nknow the language of butterfly or bird or flower, and they are blind\nto all that I have given you the power to see. These fair things are\nyour friends and playmates now, and they will teach you many pleasant\nlessons, and give you many happy hours; while the garden where you\nonce sat, weeping sad and bitter tears, is now brightened by your own\nhappiness, filled with loving friends by your own kindly thoughts and\nfeelings; and thus rendered a pleasant summer home for the gentle, happy\nchild, whose bosom flower will never fade. And now, dear Annie, I must\ngo; but every springtime, with the earliest flowers, will I come again\nto visit you, and bring some fairy gift. Guard well the magic flower,\nthat I may find all fair and bright when next I come.\"\n\nThen, with a kind farewell, the gentle Fairy floated upward through the\nsunny air, smiling down upon the child, until she vanished in the soft,\nwhite clouds; and little Annie stood alone in her enchanted garden,\nwhere all was brightened with the radiant light, and fragrant with the\nperfume of her fairy flower.\n\n\n\n\nCOMPANIONS\n\nBY HELEN HUNT JACKSON\n\n\nDuring the whole of one of a summer's hottest days I had the good\nfortune to be seated in a railway car near a mother and four children,\nwhose relations with each other were so beautiful that the pleasure of\nwatching them was quite enough to make one forget the discomforts of the\njourney.\n\nIt was plain that they were poor; their clothes were coarse and old, and\nhad been made by inexperienced hands. The mother's bonnet alone would\nhave been enough to have condemned the whole party on any of the world's\nthoroughfares. I remembered afterward, with shame, that I myself had\nsmiled at the first sight of its antiquated ugliness; but her face was\none which it gave you a sense of rest to look upon--it was so earnest,\ntender, true, and strong. It had little comeliness of shape or color in\nit, it was thin, and pale; she was not young; she had worked hard; she\nhad evidently been much ill; but I have seen few faces which gave me\nsuch pleasure. I think that she was the wife of a poor clergyman; and I\nthink that clergyman must be one of the Lord's best watchmen of souls.\nThe children--two boys and two girls--were all under the age of 12, and\nthe youngest could not speak plainly. They had had a rare treat; they\nhad been visiting the mountains, and they were talking over all the\nwonders they had seen with a glow of enthusiastic delight which was\nto be envied. Only a word-for-word record would do justice to their\nconversation; no description could give any idea of it--so free, so\npleasant, so genial, no interruptions, no contradictions; and the\nmother's part borne all the while with such equal interest and eagerness\nthat no one not seeing her face would dream that she was any other than\nan elder sister.\n\nIn the course of the day there were many occasions when it was necessary\nfor her to deny requests, and to ask services, especially from the\neldest boy; but no young girl, anxious to please a lover, could have\ndone either with a more tender courtesy. She had her reward; for no\nlover could have been more tender and manly than was this boy of 12.\nTheir lunch was simple and scanty; but it had the grace of a royal\nbanquet. At the last, the mother produced with much glee three apples\nand an orange, of which the children had not known. All eyes fastened on\nthe orange. It was evidently a great rarity. I watched to see if this\ntest would bring out selfishness. There was a little silence; just the\nshade of a cloud. The mother said: \"How shall I divide this? There is\none for each of you; and I shall be best off of all, for I expect big\ntastes from each of you.\"\n\n\"Oh, give Annie the orange. Annie loves oranges,\" spoke out the oldest\nboy, with a sudden air of a conqueror, and at the same time taking the\nsmallest and worst apple himself.\n\n\"Oh, yes, let Annie have the orange,\" echoed the second boy, nine years\nold.\n\n\"Yes, Annie may have the orange, because that is nicer than the apple,\nand she is a lady, and her brothers are gentlemen,\" said the mother,\nquietly. Then there was a merry contest as to who should feed the mother\nwith largest and most frequent mouthfuls; and so the feast went on. Then\nAnnie pretended to want an apple, and exchanged thin golden strips of\norange for bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins; and, as I sat watching\nher intently, she suddenly fancied she saw longing in my face, and\nsprang over to me, holding out a quarter of her orange, and saying,\n\"Don't you want a taste, too?\" The mother smiled, understandingly, when\nI said, \"No, I thank you, you dear, generous little girl; I don't care\nabout oranges.\"\n\nAt noon we had a tedious interval of waiting at a dreary station. We sat\nfor two hours on a narrow platform, which the sun had scorched till it\nsmelled of heat. The oldest boy--the little lover--held the youngest\nchild, and talked to her, while the tired mother closed her eyes and\nrested. Now and then he looked over at her, and then back at the baby;\nand at last he said confidentially to me (for we had become fast friends\nby this time): \"Isn't it funny, to think that I was ever so small as\nthis baby? And papa says that then mamma was almost a little girl\nherself.\"\n\nThe two other children were toiling up and down the banks of the\nrailroad track, picking ox-eye daisies, buttercups, and sorrel. They\nworked like beavers, and soon the bunches were almost too big for their\nlittle hands. Then they came running to give them to their mother. \"Oh,\ndear,\" thought I, \"how that poor, tired woman will hate to open her\neyes! and she never can take those great bunches of common, fading\nflowers, in addition to all her bundles and bags.\" I was mistaken.\n\n\"Oh, thank you, my darlings! How kind you were! Poor, hot, tired little\nflowers, how thirsty they look! If they will only try and keep alive\ntill we get home, we will make them very happy in some water; won't we?\nAnd you shall put one bunch by papa's plate, and one by mine.\"\n\nSweet and happy, the weary and flushed little children stood looking up\nin her face while she talked, their hearts thrilling with compassion for\nthe drooping flowers and with delight in the giving of their gift. Then\nshe took great trouble to get a string and tie up the flowers, and then\nthe train came, and we were whirling along again. Soon it grew dark, and\nlittle Annie's head nodded. Then I heard the mother say to the oldest\nboy, \"Dear, are you too tired to let little Annie put her head on your\nshoulder and take a nap? We shall get her home in much better ease to\nsee papa if we can manage to give her a little sleep.\" How many boys of\ntwelve hear such words as these from tired, overburdened mothers?\n\nSoon came the city, the final station, with its bustle and noise. I\nlingered to watch my happy family, hoping to see the father. \"Why, papa\nisn't here!\" exclaimed one disappointed little voice after another.\n\"Never mind,\" said the mother, with a still deeper disappointment in her\nown tone; \"perhaps he had to go to see some poor body who is sick.\" In\nthe hurry of picking up all the parcels, and the sleepy babies, the poor\ndaisies and buttercups were left forgotten in a corner of the rack. I\nwondered if the mother had not intended this. May I be forgiven for the\ninjustice! A few minutes after I passed the little group, standing still\njust outside the station, and heard the mother say, \"Oh, my darlings, I\nhave forgotten your pretty bouquets. I am so sorry! I wonder if I could\nfind them if I went back. Will you all stand still if I go?\"\n\n\"Oh, mamma, don't go, don't go. We will get you some more. Don't go,\"\ncried all the children.\n\n\"Here are your flowers, madam,\" said I. \"I saw that you had forgotten\nthem, and I took them as mementos of you and your sweet children.\" She\nblushed and looked disconcerted. She was evidently unused to people, and\nshy with all but her children. However, she thanked me sweetly, and\nsaid:\n\n\"I was very sorry about them. The children took such trouble to get\nthem, and I think they will revive in water. They cannot be quite dead.\"\n\n\"They will never die!\" said I, with an emphasis which went from my heart\nto hers. Then all her shyness fled. She knew me; and we shook hands, and\nsmiled into each other's eyes with the smile of kindred as we parted.\n\nAs I followed on, I heard the two children, who were walking behind,\nsaying to each other: \"Wouldn't that have been too bad? Mamma liked them\nso much, and we never could have got so many all at once again.\"\n\n\"Yes, we could, too, next Summer,\" said the boy, sturdily.\n\nThey are sure of their \"next summers,\" I think, all six of those\nsouls--children, and mother, and father. They may never again gather so\nmany ox-eye daisies and buttercups \"all at once.\" Perhaps some of the\nlittle hands have already picked their last flowers. Nevertheless, their\nsummers are certain. To such souls as these, all trees, either here or\nin God's larger country, are Trees of Life, with twelve manner of fruits\nand leaves for healing; and it is but little change from the summers\nhere, whose suns burn and make weary, to the summers there, of which\n\"the Lamb is the light.\"\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE LITTLE BOY\n\nBY S. WEIR MITCHELL\n\n\nA great many children live on the borders of Fairy-land and never visit\nit at all, and really there are people who grow up and are not very\nunhappy who will not believe they have lived near to it all their lives.\nBut if once you have been in that pleasant country you never quite\nforget it, and when some stupid man says, \"It is all stuff and\nnonsense,\" you do not say much, even if you yourself have come to be an\nold fellow with hair of two colors, but you feel proud to know how much\nmore you have seen of the world than he has. Children are the best\ntravelers in Fairy-land, and there also is another kingdom which is easy\nfor them to reach and hard for some older folks.\n\nOnce upon a time there was a small boy who lived so near to Fairy-land\nthat he sometimes got over the fence and inside of that lovely country,\nbut, being a little afraid, never went very far, and was quick to run\nhome if he saw Blue Beard or an Ogre or even Goody Two-Shoes. Once or\ntwice he went a little farther, and saw things which may be seen but can\nnever be written.\n\nSometimes he told his father that he had been into Fairy-land; but his\nfather, who was a brick-maker and lived in the wood, only laughed, and\ncried aloud; \"Next time you go, be sure to fetch back some fairy money.\"\n\nOne day the small boy, whose real name was Little Boy, told his father\nthat he had gone a mile into Fairy-land, and that there the people were\nborn old and grew younger all the time, and that on this account the\nhands of their clocks went backward. When his father heard this, he said\nthat boy was only fit to sing songs and be in the sun, and would never\nmake bricks worth a penny. Then he added, sharply, that his son must get\nto work at once and stop going over the fence to Fairy-land. So, after\nthat, Little Boy was set to dig clay and make bricks for a palace which\nthe King was building. He made a great many bricks of all colors, and\ndid seem to work so very hard that his father began to think he might in\ntime come to make the best of bricks. But if you are making bricks you\nmust not even be thinking of fairies, because something is sure to get\ninto the bricks and spoil them for building anything except a Spanish\ncastle or a palace of Aladdin.\n\nI am sorry to say that while Little Boy made bricks and patted them well\nand helped to bake them hard he was forever thinking of a Fairy who had\nkissed him one day in the wood. This was a very strange Fairy, large,\nwith white limbs, and eyes which were full of joy for a child, but to\nsuch as being old looked upon them, were, as the poet says, \"lakes of\nsadness.\" Perhaps, being little, you who read can understand this. I\ncannot; but whoever has once seen this Fairy loves the sun and the woods\nand all living creatures, and knows things without being taught, and\nwhat men will say before they say it. Yet, while he knows all these\nstrange things, and what birds talk about, and what songs the winds sing\nto the trees, he can never make good bricks.\n\nAnd this was why Little Boy's bricks were badly made; on account of\nwhich the King's palace, having many poor bricks in it, fell down one\nfine day and cracked the crowns of twenty-three courtiers and had like\nto have killed the King himself. This made the King very angry, so he\nput on his crown and said wicked words, and told everybody he would give\none hundred pieces of gold to whoever would find the person who had made\nthe bad bricks. When Little Boy's father heard this, he knew it must\nhave been his son who was to blame. So he told his son that he had been\nvery careless, and that surely the King would kill him, and that the\nbest thing he could do would be to run away and hide in Fairy-land.\n\nLittle Boy was very badly scared, and was well pleased when his mother\nhad put some cakes and apples in a bag and slung it over his shoulder\nand told him to run quickly away; and this he was glad to do, because he\nsaw the King's soldiers coming over the hill to take him. When they came\nto his father's house his father told them that it was his son who had\nmade the bad bricks. After hearing this, they let the man go, and went\nafter Little Boy. As their legs were long and his were short, they soon\ngot very near to him, and he had just time to scramble over the fence\ninto Fairy-land. Then the soldiers began to get over the fence, too; but\nat this moment the giant Fee-Faw-Fum came out of the wood, and said, in\na voice that was as loud as the roar of the winds of a winter night:\n\"What do you want here?\" This gave them such a fright that they all sat\nthere in a row on top of the fence like sparrows, and could not move for\na week. You may be sure Little Boy did not stop to look at them, but ran\naway, far away into Fairy-land. Of course, he soon got lost, because in\nthe geographies there is not a word about Fairy-land, and nobody knows\neven what bounds it on the north.\n\nIt is sad to be lost, but not in Fairy-land. The sooner you lose\nyourself, the happier you are. And then such queer things chance to\nyou--things no one could dream would happen. Mostly it is the children\nfor whom they occur, and the grown-up person who is quite happy in this\njoyous land is not often to be met with. Perhaps you think I will tell\nyou all about the fairy country. Not I, indeed. I have been there in my\ntime; but my travels there I cannot write, or else I might never be\nallowed to return again.\n\nBy-and-by Little Boy grew tired and went into a deep wood and there sat\ndown and ate a cake, and saw very soon that the squirrels were throwing\nhim nuts from the trees. Of course, as he was in Fairy-land, this was\njust what one might have expected. He tried to crack the nuts with his\nteeth, but could not, and this troubled the squirrels so much that\npresently nine of them came down and sat around him and began to crack\nnuts for him and to laugh.\n\nWhen Little Boy had finished his meal, he lay down and tried to go to\nsleep, for it was pleasant and warm, and the moss was soft to lie upon,\nand strange birds came and went and sang love-songs. But just as he was\nalmost asleep he was shaken quite roughly, and when he looked up saw a\nbeautiful Prince.\n\n\"Ho! ho!\" said the Prince, \"I heard you getting ready to snore. A moment\nmore and I should have been too late.\"\n\n\"How is that?\" said Little Boy, \"and who are you?\"\n\n\"Sir, I am Fine Ear, and before things happen I hear them. Do not you\nknow, Fair Sir\" (this is the way fairies speak), \"that if you fall\nasleep the first day that you are in Fairy-land, it is years before you\nwake? Some people don't wake.\"\n\nLittle Boy felt that he was in high society, so he said, politely:\n\n\"Gracious Prince, a million thanks; but how can I keep awake?\"\n\n\"It is only for one night, young sir. Come with me. My sister, Goody\nTwo-Shoes, lives close by, and she may help us.\"\n\nSo they went along through the twilight and walked far, until Little Boy\nwas ready to drop. At last Fine Ear said that as he heard his sister\nbreathing, she could not be more than three miles away. As they climbed\na great hill, it became dark, and Little Boy grew more and more sleepy,\nand could not see his way, and tumbled about so much that at last the\nPrince stood still and said: \"My dear fellow, this won't do; you will be\nin Dream-land before I can pinch you.\" Then he whistled, and a little\nsilver star--a shining white light--fell out of the fairy sky and rolled\nbeside them, making all the road as bright as day, and quite waking up\nLittle Boy.\n\nAfter this they walked on, and the Prince said he would ask Jack the\nGiant-killer to supper. Little Boy replied that he would be proud to\nmeet him. Just as they came near to the house, which was built of pearls\nand rubies, the Prince said: \"Alas! here comes that tiresome fool,\nHumpty Dumpty.\" When Little Boy looked, he saw a short man very crooked\nin the back, and with a head all to one side, not having been well\nmended by the doctors, as you may recall. Also his mouth was very large,\nwhich was a pity, because when he stopped before them and bowed in a\npolite way, all of a sudden he opened this great mouth and gaped; and\nwhen poor, sleepy Little Boy saw this, what could he do but gape for\ncompany, and at once fall down sound asleep before the kind Prince could\nmove?\n\n\"Alas! fool,\" said Fine Ear, \"why must you gape at a mortal? You knew\nwhat would happen. It was lucky you did not sneeze.\"\n\nMeanwhile, there lay Little Boy sound asleep, and what was to be done?\nAt last he was carried into the house of Goody Two-Shoes and put on a\nbed. Every one knew that he could not be waked up, and so they put fairy\nfood in his mouth twice a day, and just let him alone, so that for\nseveral years he slept soundly, and by reason of being fed with fairy\nfood grew tall and beautiful; what was more strange, his clothes grew\nalso.\n\nAt the end of seven years a great Sayer of Sooth came by on his way to\nvisit his fairy godmother, and when he heard about Little Boy's sleep he\nstood still and uttered a loud Sooth. When Goody Two-Shoes heard it she\nwas sorry, because it was told her that Little Boy would never wake\nuntil he was carried back to the country of mortals, when he would wake\nup at once. Now by this time she had come to love him very much, and was\nsorry to part with him, because in seven years he had never spoken one\ncross word!\n\n [Illustration: \"SHE PUT AROUND LITTLE BOY'S NECK A FAIRY KISS\"]\n\nBut Sooths must be obeyed; so she sent for a gentle Giant, and told him\nto carry Little Boy to the Queen's tailor and to dress him like a fairy\nPrince, and to set him down on the roadside near his father's house.\nThen when the Giant took him up in his great arms, all sound asleep, she\nput around Little Boy's neck a fairy kiss tied fast to a gold chain, and\nthis was for good luck. After this the Giant walked away, and Goody\nTwo-Shoes went into the house and cried for two days and a night.\n\nWhen the Giant came to Common-Folks'-land, he laid Little Boy beside the\nhigh-road and went home. Toward evening, the King's daughter went by,\nand seeing Little Boy, who, as I have said, was now grown tall and\ndressed all in velvet and jewels, she came and stood by him, and when\nshe saw the fairy kiss hanging around his neck she knelt down and kissed\nhim. Then all the old ladies cried, \"Fy! for shame!\" but you know she\ncould not help it. As for Little Boy, he kept ever so still, being now\nwide awake, but having hopes that she would kiss him again, which she\ndid, twice. As he still seemed to sleep, he was put in the Princess's\nchariot and taken to the King's palace.\n\nAt last, when every one had looked at him, they put him on a bed, and\nwhen morning came he opened his eyes, and began to walk around to\nstretch his legs. But as he went downstairs he met the King, who said to\nhim: \"Fair Sir, what is the name of thy beautiful self?\" To which he\nanswered: \"I am called Prince Little Boy.\" \"Ha! ha!\" said the King.\n\"That was the name of the bad brick-maker. Perchance thou art he.\" Then\nhe called his guards, and Little Boy was at once shut up in a huge\ntower, for the King was not quite sure, or else he would have put him to\ndeath at once. But after Little Boy had been there three days he put his\nhead out of a window and saw the Princess in the garden. Then he said:\n\n\"Sweet lady, look up.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"they have sent for thy mother, and if she says thou\nart Little Boy they will kill thee, and, alas! I love thee.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" he cried, \"come to this tower at midnight, and cast me kisses a\nmany through the night; blow a kiss to the north, blow a kiss to the\nsouth, to the east, to the west, from the flower of thy mouth and it may\nbe that one will float to Fairy-land and fetch us help, for if not, I be\nbut a dead man.\"\n\nAll this she did because she was brave and loved him. She stood in the\ndark and blew kisses to the four winds, and then listened, and by and by\ncame a noise like great wings, and all the air was filled with strange,\nsweet odors, the like of which that Princess never smelled again.\n\nAs for Little Boy, he was aware of a Giant who was as tall as the tower.\n\"Sir,\" said the Giant, \"it is told me that you must keep your eyes shut\nuntil I bid them to open. I have brought the Kiss Queen to pay you a\nvisit. No man has ever seen her; for if he did he could never, never\nkiss or be kissed of any mortal lips.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Little Boy, \"the Princess is more sweet than any that kiss\nin Fairy-land.\"\n\n\"Prince,\" said the Giant, \"your education has been but slight, or else\nyou would know that all kisses are made in Fairy-land. But shut your\neyes and stir not.\"\n\nThen Little Boy did close his two eyes. At once he felt a tiny kiss from\nlips that might have been as long as one's fingernail, and once he was\nkissed on each cheek and once on his chin, and then he felt faint for a\nmoment. All was still for a while, until the Giant said: \"You are lucky.\nOpen your eyes, Fair Sir,\" and went away.\n\nNext day all the people came to see the King try Little Boy. When Little\nBoy saw his mother he was almost ready to cry, but he kept still and\nwaited. Then the King said to her: \"Tell me, is this your son? and do\nnot deceive me, or dreadful things will happen to you and to him.\"\n\nAt this the good woman looked at him with care. \"This looks like my\nson,\" she said; \"but it is not my son, because this young man has a\ndimple on each cheek and one on his chin. Who ever saw any one with\nthree dimples?\"\n\nWhen the King heard this and Little Boy's father declared also that his\nlost son had no dimples, the King bade them all go free, and said he had\nbeen now nine years angry about those bricks, and that whoever would\nfind the bad brick-maker should marry the Princess. When Prince Little\nBoy heard this he said that he was the bad boy who had made those\nbricks. But the King was as good as his word, and ordered that the\nPrince should marry the Princess, and not have his head cut off, because\nthe Princess did wisely say that a husband with no head wasn't much good\nas a husband. Therefore they were married that minute, and I have heard\nthat they spent their honeymoon in Fairy-land. And this is the end of\nthe Story of Prince Little Boy.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEE-MAN OF ORN[E]\n\nBY FRANK R. STOCKTON\n\n\nIn the ancient country of Orn there lived an old man who was called the\nBee-man, because his whole time was spent in the company of bees. He\nlived in a small hut, which was nothing more than an immense bee-hive,\nfor these little creatures had built their honeycombs in every corner of\nthe one room it contained--on the shelves, under the little table, all\nabout the rough bench on which the old man sat, and even about the\nhead-board and along the sides of his low bed.\n\nAll day the air of the room was thick with buzzing insects, but this did\nnot interfere in any way with the old Bee-man, who walked in among them,\nate his meals, and went to sleep, without the slightest fear of being\nstung.\n\nHe had lived with the bees so long, they had become so accustomed to\nhim, and his skin was so tough and hard, that the bees no more thought\nof stinging him than they would of stinging a tree or a stone. A swarm\nof bees had made their hive in a pocket of his old leathern doublet; and\nwhen he put on this coat to take one of his long walks in the forest in\nsearch of wild bees' nests, he was very glad to have this hive with him,\nfor, if he did not find any wild honey, he would put his hand in his\npocket and take out a piece of a comb for a luncheon. The bees in his\npocket worked very industriously, and he was always certain of having\nsomething to eat with him wherever he went. He lived principally upon\nhoney; and when he needed bread or meat, he carried some fine combs to a\nvillage not far away and bartered them for other food. He was ugly,\nuntidy, shrivelled, and brown. He was poor, and the bees seemed to be\nhis only friends. But, for all that, he was happy and contented; he had\nall the honey he wanted, and his bees, whom he considered the best\ncompany in the world, were as friendly and sociable as they could be,\nand seemed to increase in number every day.\n\nOne day there stopped at the hut of the Bee-man a Junior Sorcerer. This\nyoung person, who was a student of magic, was much interested in the\nBee-man, whom he had often noticed in his wanderings, and he considered\nhim an admirable subject for study. He had got a great deal of useful\npractice by trying to find out, by the various rules and laws of\nsorcery, exactly why the old Bee-man did not happen to be something that\nhe was not, and why he was what he happened to be. He had studied a long\ntime at this matter, and had found out something.\n\n\"Do you know,\" he said, when the Bee-man came out of his hut, \"that you\nhave been transformed?\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\" said the other, much surprised.\n\n\"You have surely heard of animals and human beings who have been\nmagically transformed into different kinds of creatures?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have heard of these things,\" said the Bee-man; \"but what have I\nbeen transformed from?\"\n\n\"That is more than I know,\" said the Junior Sorcerer. \"But one thing is\ncertain; you ought to be changed back. If you will find out what you\nhave been transformed from, I will see that you are made all right\nagain. Nothing would please me better than to attend to such a case.\"\n\nAnd, having a great many things to study and investigate, the Junior\nSorcerer went his way.\n\nThis information greatly disturbed the mind of the Bee-man. If he had\nbeen changed from something else, he ought to be that other thing,\nwhatever it was. He ran after the young man, and overtook him.\n\n\"If you know, kind sir,\" he said, \"that I have been transformed, you\nsurely are able to tell me what it is that I was.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Junior Sorcerer, \"my studies have not proceeded far\nenough for that. When I become a Senior I can tell you all about it.\nBut, in the meantime, it will be well for you to try to find out for\nyourself your original form; and when you have done that, I will get\nsome of the learned masters of my art to restore you to it. It will be\neasy enough to do that, but you could not expect them to take the time\nand trouble to find out what it was.\"\n\nAnd, with these words, he hurried away, and was soon lost to view.\n\nGreatly disturbed, the Bee-man retraced his steps, and went to his hut.\nNever before had he heard anything which had so troubled him.\n\n\"I wonder what I was transformed from?\" he thought, seating himself on\nhis rough bench. \"Could it have been a giant, or a powerful prince, or\nsome gorgeous being whom the magicians or the fairies wished to punish?\nIt may be that I was a dog or a horse, or perhaps a fiery dragon or a\nhorrid snake. I hope it was not one of these. But whatever it was,\neveryone has certainly a right to his original form, and I am resolved\nto find out mine. I will start early to-morrow morning; and I am sorry\nnow that I have not more pockets to my old doublet, so that I might\ncarry more bees and more honey for my journey.\"\n\nHe spent the rest of the day in making a hive of twigs and straw; and,\nhaving transferred to this a number of honeycombs and a colony of bees\nwhich had just swarmed, he rose before sunrise the next day, and having\nput on his leathern doublet and having bound his new hive to his back,\nhe set forth on his quest, the bees who were to accompany him buzzing\naround him like a cloud.\n\nAs the Bee-man pressed through the little village the people greatly\nwondered at his queer appearance, with the hive upon his back. \"The\nBee-man is going on a long journey this time,\" they said; but no one\nimagined the strange business on which he was bent.\n\nAbout noon he sat down under a tree, near a beautiful meadow covered\nwith blossoms, and ate a little honey. Then he untied his hive and\nstretched himself out on the grass to rest. As he gazed upon his bees\nhovering about him, some going out to the blossoms in the sunshine, and\nsome returning laden with the sweet pollen, he said to himself: \"They\nknow just what they have to do, and they do it; but alas for me! I know\nnot what I may have to do. And yet, whatever it may be, I am determined\nto do it. In some way or other I will find out what was my original\nform, and then I will have myself changed back to it.\"\n\nAnd now the thought came to him that perhaps his original form might\nhave been something very disagreeable, or even horrid.\n\n\"But it does not matter,\" he said sturdily. \"Whatever I was that shall I\nbe again. It is not right for anyone to keep a form which does not\nproperly belong to him. I have no doubt I shall discover my original\nform in the same way that I find the trees in which the wild bees hive.\nWhen I first catch sight of a bee tree I am drawn toward it, I know not\nhow. Something says to me: 'That is what you are looking for.' In the\nsame way I believe that I shall find my original form. When I see it, I\nshall be drawn toward it. Something will say to me: 'That is it.'\"\n\nWhen the Bee-man was rested he started off again, and in about an hour\nhe entered a fair domain. Around him were beautiful lawns, grand trees,\nand lovely gardens; while at a little distance stood the stately palace\nof the Lord of the Domain. Richly dressed people were walking about or\nsitting in the shade of the trees and arbors; splendidly equipped horses\nwere waiting for their riders; and everywhere were seen signs of wealth\nand gayety.\n\n\"I think,\" said the Bee-man to himself, \"that I should like to stop here\nfor a time. If it should happen that I was originally like any of these\nhappy creatures it would please me much.\"\n\nHe untied his hive, and hid it behind some bushes, and, taking off his\nold doublet, laid that beside it. It would not do to have his bees\nflying about him if he wished to go among the inhabitants of this fair\ndomain.\n\nFor two days the Bee-man wandered about the palace and its grounds,\navoiding notice as much as possible, but looking at everything. He saw\nhandsome men and lovely ladies; the finest horses, dogs, and cattle that\nwere ever known; beautiful birds in cages, and fishes in crystal globes;\nand it seemed to him that the best of all living-things were here\ncollected.\n\nAt the close of the second day the Bee-man said to himself: \"There is\none being here toward whom I feel very much drawn, and that is the Lord\nof the Domain. I cannot feel certain that I was once like him, but it\nwould be a very fine thing if it were so; and it seems impossible for me\nto be drawn toward any other being in the domain when I look upon him,\nso handsome, rich, and powerful. But I must observe him more closely,\nand feel more sure of the matter, before applying to the sorcerers to\nchange me back into a lord of a fair domain.\"\n\nThe next morning the Bee-man saw the Lord of the Domain walking in his\ngardens. He slipped along the shady paths, and followed him so as to\nobserve him closely, and find out if he were really drawn toward this\nnoble and handsome being. The Lord of the Domain walked on for some\ntime, not noticing that the Bee-man was behind him. But suddenly\nturning, he saw the little old man.\n\n\"What are you doing here, you vile beggar?\" he cried; and he gave him a\nkick that sent him into some bushes which grew by the side of the path.\n\nThe Bee-man scrambled to his feet, and ran as fast as he could to the\nplace where he had hidden his hive and his old doublet.\n\n\"If I am certain of anything,\" he thought, \"it is that I was never a\nperson who would kick a poor old man. I will leave this place. I was\ntransformed from nothing that I see here.\"\n\nHe now traveled for a day or two longer, and then he came to a great\nblack mountain, near the bottom of which was an opening like the mouth\nof a cave.\n\n [Illustration: \"HE WAS EXTREMELY LIVELY AND ACTIVE, AND CAME BOUNDING\n TOWARD THEM\"]\n\nThis mountain he had heard was filled with caverns and underground\npassages, which were the abodes of dragons, evil spirits, and horrid\ncreatures of all kinds.\n\n\"Ah me!\" said the Bee-man with a sigh, \"I suppose I ought to visit this\nplace. If I am going to do this thing properly, I should look on all\nsides of the subject, and I may have been one of those horrid creatures\nmyself.\"\n\nThereupon he went to the mountain, and as he approached the opening of\nthe passage which led into its inmost recesses, he saw, sitting upon the\nground, and leaning his back against a tree, a Languid Youth.\n\n\"Good-day,\" said this individual when he saw the Bee-man. \"Are you going\ninside?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Bee-man, \"that is what I intend to do.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the Languid Youth, slowly rising to his feet, \"I think I\nwill go with you. I was told that if I went in there I should get my\nenergies toned up, and they need it very much; but I did not feel equal\nto entering by myself, and I thought I would wait until some one came\nalong. I am very glad to see you, and we will go in together.\"\n\nSo the two went into the cave, and they had proceeded but a short\ndistance when they met a very little creature, whom it was easy to\nrecognize as a Very Imp. He was about two feet high, and resembled in\ncolor a freshly polished pair of boots. He was extremely lively and\nactive, and came bounding toward them.\n\n\"What did you two people come here for?\" he asked.\n\n\"I came,\" said the Languid Youth, \"to have my energies toned up.\"\n\n\"You have come to the right place,\" said the Very Imp. \"We will tone you\nup. And what does that old Bee-man want?\"\n\n\"He has been transformed from something, and wants to find out what it\nis. He thinks he may have been one of the things in here.\"\n\n\"I should not wonder if that were so,\" said the Very Imp, rolling his\nhead on one side, and eying the Bee-man with a critical gaze.\n\n\"All right,\" said the Very Imp; \"he can go around, and pick out his\nprevious existence. We have here all sorts of vile creepers, crawlers,\nhissers, and snorters. I suppose he thinks anything will be better than\na Bee-man.\"\n\n\"It is not because I want to be better than I am,\" said the Bee-man,\n\"that I started out on this search. I have simply an honest desire to\nbecome what I originally was.\"\n\n\"Oh; that is it, is it?\" said the other. \"There is an idiotic moon-calf\nhere with a clam head, which must be just what you used to be.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" said the Bee-man. \"You have not the least idea what an\nhonest purpose is. I shall go about and see for myself.\"\n\n\"Go ahead,\" said the Very Imp, \"and I will attend to this fellow who\nwants to be toned up.\" So saying he joined the Languid Youth.\n\n\"Look here,\" said the Youth, \"do you black and shine yourself every\nmorning?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the other, \"it is water-proof varnish. You want to be\ninvigorated, don't you? Well, I will tell you a splendid way to begin.\nYou see that Bee-man has put down his hive and his coat with the bees in\nit. Just wait till he gets out of sight, and then catch a lot of those\nbees, and squeeze them flat. If you spread them on a sticky rag, and\nmake a plaster, and put it on the small of your back, it will invigorate\nyou like everything, especially if some of the bees are not quite dead.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Languid Youth, looking at him with his mild eyes, \"but\nif I had energy enough to catch a bee I would be satisfied. Suppose you\ncatch a lot for me.\"\n\n\"The subject is changed,\" said the Very Imp. \"We are now about to visit\nthe spacious chamber of the King of the Snap-dragons.\"\n\n\"That is a flower,\" said the Languid Youth.\n\n\"You will find him a gay old blossom,\" said the other. \"When he has\nchased you round his room, and has blown sparks at you, and has snorted\nand howled, and cracked his tail, and snapped his jaws like a pair of\nanvils, your energies will be toned up higher than ever before in your\nlife.\"\n\n\"No doubt of it,\" said the Languid Youth; \"but I think I will begin with\nsomething a little milder.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said the other, \"there is a flat-tailed Demon of the Gorge\nin here. He is generally asleep, and, if you say so, you can slip into\nthe farthest corner of his cave, and I'll solder his tail to the\nopposite wall. Then he will rage and roar, but he can't get at you, for\nhe doesn't reach all the way across his cave; I have measured him. It\nwill tone you up wonderfully to sit there and watch him.\"\n\n\"Very likely,\" said the Languid Youth; \"but I would rather stay outside\nand let you go up in the corner. The performance in that way will be\nmore interesting to me.\"\n\n\"You are dreadfully hard to please,\" said the Very Imp. \"I have offered\nthem to you loose, and I offered them fastened to a wall, and now the\nbest thing I can do is to give you a chance at one of them that can't\nmove at all. It is the Ghastly Griffin, and is enchanted. He can't stir\nso much as the tip of his whiskers for a thousand years. You can go to\nhis cave and examine him just as if he were stuffed, and then you can\nsit on his back and think how it would be if you should live to be a\nthousand years old, and he should wake up while you are sitting there.\nIt would be easy to imagine a lot of horrible things he would do to you\nwhen you look at his open mouth with its awful fangs, his dreadful\nclaws, and his horrible wings all covered with spikes.\"\n\n\"I think that might suit me,\" said the Languid Youth. \"I would much\nrather imagine the exercises of these monsters than to see them really\ngoing on.\"\n\n\"Come on, then,\" said the Very Imp; and he led the way to the cave of\nthe Ghastly Griffin.\n\nThe Bee-man went by himself through a great part of the mountain, and\nlooked into many of its gloomy caves and recesses, recoiling in horror\nfrom most of the dreadful monsters who met his eyes. While he was\nwandering about, an awful roar was heard resounding through the passages\nof the mountain, and soon there came flapping along an enormous dragon,\nwith body black as night, and wings and tail of fiery red. In his great\nfore-claws he bore a little baby.\n\n\"Horrible!\" exclaimed the Bee-man. \"He is taking that little creature to\nhis cave to devour it.\"\n\nHe saw the dragon enter a cave not far away, and, following, looked in.\nThe dragon was crouched upon the ground with the little baby lying\nbefore him. It did not seem to be hurt, but was frightened and crying.\nThe monster was looking upon it with delight, as if he intended to make\na dainty meal of it as soon as his appetite should be a little stronger.\n\n\"It is too bad!\" thought the Bee-man. \"Somebody ought to do something.\"\nAnd turning around, he ran away as fast as he could.\n\nHe ran through various passages until he came to the spot where he had\nleft his bee-hive. Picking it up, he hurried back, carrying the hive in\nhis two hands before him. When he reached the cave of the dragon, he\nlooked in and saw the monster still crouched over the weeping child.\nWithout a moment's hesitation, the Bee-man rushed into the cave and\nthrew his hive straight into the face of the dragon. The bees, enraged\nby the shock, rushed upon the head, mouth, eyes, and nose of the dragon.\n\nThe great monster, astounded by this sudden attack, and driven almost\nwild by the numberless stings of the bees, sprang back to the farthest\ncorner of his cave, still followed by the bees, at whom he flapped\nwildly with his great wings and struck with his paws. While the dragon\nwas thus engaged with the bees, the Bee-man rushed forward, and seizing\nthe child, he hurried away. He did not stop to pick up his doublet, but\nkept on until he saw the Very Imp hopping along on one leg, and rubbing\nhis back and shoulders with his hands, and stopped to inquire what was\nthe matter, and what had become of the Languid Youth.\n\n\"He is no kind of a fellow,\" said the Very Imp. \"He disappointed me\ndreadfully. I took him up to the Ghastly Griffin, and told him the thing\nwas enchanted, and that he might sit on its back and think about what it\ncould do if it was awake; and when he came near it the wretched creature\nopened its eyes, and raised its head, and then you ought to have seen\nhow mad that simpleton was. He made a dash at me and seized me by the\nears; he kicked and beat me till I can scarcely move.\"\n\n\"His energies must have been toned up a good deal,\" said the Bee-man.\n\n\"Toned up! I should say so!\" cried the other. \"I raised a howl, and a\nScissor-jawed Clipper came out of his hole, and got after him; but that\nlazy fool ran so fast that he could not be caught.\"\n\nThe Bee-man now ran on and soon overtook the Languid Youth.\n\n\"You need not be in a hurry now,\" said the latter, \"for the rules of\nthis institution don't allow the creatures inside to come out of this\nopening, or to hang around it. If they did, they would frighten away\nvisitors. They go in and out of holes in the upper part of the\nmountain.\"\n\nThe two proceeded on their way.\n\n\"What are you going to do with that baby?\" said the Languid Youth.\n\n\"I shall carry it along with me,\" said the Bee-man, \"as I go on with my\nsearch, and perhaps I may find its mother. If I do not, I shall give it\nto somebody in that little village yonder. Anything would be better than\nleaving it to be devoured by that horrid dragon.\"\n\n\"Let me carry it, I feel quite strong enough now to carry a baby.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the Bee-man; \"but I can take it myself. I like to\ncarry something, and I have now neither my hive nor my doublet.\"\n\n\"It is very well that you had to leave them behind,\" said the Youth,\n\"for the bees would have stung the baby.\"\n\n\"My bees never sting babies,\" said the other.\n\n\"They probably never had a chance,\" remarked his companion.\n\nThey soon entered the village, and after walking a short distance the\nYouth exclaimed: \"Do you see that woman over there sitting at the door\nof her house? She has beautiful hair, and she is tearing it all to\npieces. She should not be allowed to do that.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Bee-man. \"Her friends should tie her hands.\"\n\n\"Perhaps she is the mother of this child,\" said the Youth, \"and if you\ngive it to her she will no longer think of tearing her hair.\"\n\n\"But,\" said the Bee-man, \"you don't really think this is her child?\"\n\n\"Suppose you go over and see,\" said the other.\n\nThe Bee-man hesitated a moment, and then he walked toward the woman.\nHearing him coming, she raised her head, and when she saw the child she\nrushed toward it, snatched it into her arms, and screaming with joy she\ncovered it with kisses. Then with happy tears she begged to know the\nstory of the rescue of her child, whom she never expected to see again;\nand she loaded the Bee-man with thanks and blessings. The friends and\nneighbors gathered around, and there was great rejoicing. The mother\nurged the Bee-man and the Youth to stay with her, and rest and refresh\nthemselves, which they were glad to do, as they were tired and hungry.\n\nThey remained at the cottage all night, and in the afternoon of the next\nday the Bee-man said to the Youth: \"It may seem an odd thing to you, but\nnever in all my life have I felt myself drawn toward any living being as\nI am drawn toward this baby. Therefore I believe that I have been\ntransformed from a baby.\"\n\n\"Good!\" cried the Youth. \"It is my opinion that you have hit the truth.\nAnd now would you like to be changed back to your original form?\"\n\n\"Indeed I would!\" said the Bee-man. \"I have the strongest yearning to be\nwhat I originally was.\"\n\nThe Youth, who had now lost every trace of languid feeling, took a great\ninterest in the matter, and early the next morning started off to tell\nthe Junior Sorcerer that the Bee-man had discovered what he had been\ntransformed from, and desired to be changed back to it.\n\nThe Junior Sorcerer and his learned Masters were filled with delight\nwhen they heard this report, and they at once set out for the mother's\ncottage. And there by magic arts the Bee-man was changed back into a\nbaby. The mother was so grateful for what the Bee-man had done for her\nthat she agreed to take charge of this baby, and to bring it up as her\nown.\n\n\"It will be a grand thing for him,\" said the Junior Sorcerer, \"and I am\nglad that I studied his case. He will now have a fresh start in life,\nand will have a chance to become something better than a miserable old\nman living in a wretched hut with no friends or companions but buzzing\nbees.\"\n\nThe Junior Sorcerer and his Masters then returned to their homes, happy\nin the success of their great performance; and the Youth went back to\nhis home anxious to begin a life of activity and energy.\n\nYears and years afterward, when the Junior Sorcerer had become a Senior\nand was very old indeed, he passed through the country of Orn, and\nnoticed a small hut about which swarms of bees were flying. He\napproached it, and looking in at the door he saw an old man in a\nleathern doublet, sitting at a table, eating honey. By his magic art he\nknew this was the baby which had been transformed from the Bee-man.\n\n\"Upon my word!\" exclaimed the Sorcerer, \"he has grown into the same\nthing again!\"\n\n [E] From \"The Bee-Man of Orn, and Other Fanciful Tales\";\n copyright, 1887, by Charles Scribner's Sons. Used by permission of the\n publishers.\n\n\n\n\nTHE POT OF GOLD[F]\n\nBY MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN\n\n\nThe Flower family lived in a little house in a broad grassy meadow,\nwhich sloped a few rods from their front door down to a gentle, silvery\nriver. Right across the river rose a lovely dark green mountain, and\nwhen there was a rainbow, as there frequently was, nothing could have\nlooked more enchanting than it did rising from the opposite bank of the\nstream with the wet, shadowy mountain for a background. All the Flower\nfamily would invariably run to their front windows and their door to see\nit.\n\nThe Flower family numbered nine: Father and Mother Flower and seven\nchildren. Father Flower was an unappreciated poet, Mother Flower was\nvery much like all mothers, and the seven children were very sweet and\ninteresting. Their first names all matched beautifully with their last\nname, and with their personal appearance. For instance, the oldest girl,\nwho had soft blue eyes and flaxen curls, was called Flax Flower: the\nlittle boy, who came next, and had very red cheeks and loved to sleep\nlate in the morning, was called Poppy Flower, and so on. This charming\nsuitableness of their names was owing to Father Flower. He had a theory\nthat a great deal of the misery and discord in the world comes from\nthings not matching properly as they should; and he thought there\nought to be a certain correspondence between all things that were in\njuxtaposition to each other, just as there ought to be between the last\ntwo words of a couplet of poetry. But he found, very often, there was no\ncorrespondence at all, just as words in poetry do not always rhyme when\nthey should. However, he did his best to remedy it. He saw that every\none of his children's names was suitable and accorded with their\npersonal characteristics; and in his flower-garden--for he raised\nflowers for the market--only those of complementary colors were allowed\nto grow in adjoining beds, and, as often as possible, they rhymed in\ntheir names. But that was a more difficult matter to manage, and very\nfew flowers were rhymed, or, if they were, none rhymed correctly. He had\na bed of box next to one of phlox, and a trellis of woodbine grew next\nto one of eglantine, and a thicket of elderblows was next to one of\nrose; but he was forced to let his violets and honeysuckles and many\nothers go entirely unrhymed--this disturbed him considerably, but he\nreflected that it was not his fault, but that of the man who made the\nlanguage and named the different flowers--he should have looked to it\nthat those of complementary colors had names to rhyme with each other,\nthen all would have been harmonious and as it should have been.\n\nFather Flower had chosen this way of earning his livelihood when he\nrealized that he was doomed to be an unappreciated poet, because it\nsuited so well with his name; and if the flowers had only rhymed a\nlittle better he would have been very well contented. As it was, he\nnever grumbled. He also saw to it that the furniture in his little house\nand the cooking utensils rhymed as nearly as possible, though that too\nwas oftentimes a difficult matter to bring about, and required a vast\ndeal of thought and hard study. The table always stood under the gable\nend of the roof, the foot-stool always stood where it was cool, and the\nbig rocking-chair in a glare of sunlight; the lamp, too, he kept down\ncellar where it was damp. But all these were rather far-fetched, and\nsometimes quite inconvenient. Occasionally there would be an article\nthat he could not rhyme until he had spent years of thought over it, and\nwhen he did it would disturb the comfort of the family greatly. There\nwas the spider. He puzzled over that exceedingly, and when he rhymed it\nat last, Mother Flower or one of the little girls had always to take\nthe spider beside her, when she sat down, which was of course quite\ntroublesome. The kettle he rhymed first with nettle, and hung a bunch\nof nettle over it, till all the children got dreadfully stung. Then he\ntried settle, and hung the kettle over the settle. But that was no place\nfor it; they had to go without their tea, and everybody who sat on the\nsettle bumped his head against the kettle. At last it occurred to Father\nFlower that if he should make a slight change in the language the kettle\ncould rhyme with the skillet, and sit beside it on the stove, as it\nought, leaving harmony out of the question, to do. Accordingly all the\nchildren were instructed to call the skillet a skettle, and the kettle\nstood by its side on the stove ever afterward.\n\nThe house was a very pretty one, although it was quite rude and very\nsimple. It was built of logs and had a thatched roof, which projected\nfar out over the walls. But it was all overrun with the loveliest\nflowering vines imaginable, and, inside, nothing could have been more\nexquisitely neat and homelike; although there was only one room and a\nlittle garret over it. All around the house were the flower-beds and the\nvine-trellises and the blooming shrubs, and they were always in the most\nbeautiful order. Now, although all this was very pretty to see, and\nseemingly very simple to bring to pass, yet there was a vast deal of\nlabor in it for some one; for flowers do not look so trim and thriving\nwithout tending, and houses do not look so spotlessly clean without\nconstant care. All the Flower family worked hard; even the littlest\nchildren had their daily tasks set them. The oldest girl, especially,\nlittle Flax Flower, was kept busy from morning till night taking care of\nher younger brothers and sisters, and weeding flowers. But for all that\nshe was a very happy little girl, as indeed were the whole family, as\nthey did not mind working, and loved each other dearly.\n\nFather Flower, to be sure, felt a little sad sometimes; for, although\nhis lot in life was a pleasant one, it was not exactly what he would\nhave chosen. Once in a while he had a great longing for something\ndifferent. He confided a great many of his feelings to Flax Flower; she\nwas more like him than any of the other children, and could understand\nhim even better than his wife, he thought.\n\nOne day, when there had been a heavy shower and a beautiful rainbow, he\nand Flax were out in the garden tying up some rose-bushes, which the\nrain had beaten down, and he said to her how he wished he could find the\nPot of Gold at the end of the rainbow. Flax, if you will believe me,\nhad never heard of it; so he had to tell her all about it, and also say\na little poem he had made about it to her.\n\nThe poem ran something in this way:\n\n O what is it shineth so golden-clear\n At the rainbow's foot on the dark green hill?\n 'Tis the Pot of Gold, that for many a year\n Has shone, and is shining and dazzling still.\n And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?\n For thee, Sweetheart, shouldst thou go that way.\n\nFlax listened with her soft blue eyes very wide open. \"I suppose if we\nshould find that pot of gold it would make us very rich, wouldn't it,\nfather?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied her father; \"we could then have a grand house, and keep a\ngardener, and a maid to take care of the children, and we should no\nlonger have to work so hard.\" He sighed as he spoke, and tears stood in\nhis gentle blue eyes, which were very much like Flax's. \"However, we\nshall never find it,\" he added.\n\n\"Why couldn't we run ever so fast when we saw the rainbow,\" inquired\nFlax, \"and get the Pot of Gold?\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish, child!\" said her father; \"you could not possibly\nreach it before the rainbow was quite faded away!\"\n\n\"True,\" said Flax, but she fell to thinking as she tied up the dripping\nroses.\n\nThe next rainbow they had she eyed very closely, standing out on the\nfront doorstep in the rain, and she saw that one end of it seemed to\ntouch the ground at the foot of a pine-tree on the side of the mountain,\nwhich was quite conspicuous amongst its fellows, it was so tall. The\nother end had nothing especial to mark it.\n\n\"I will try the end where the tall pine-tree is first,\" said Flax to\nherself, \"because that will be the easiest to find--if the Pot of Gold\nisn't there I will try to find the other end.\"\n\nA few days after that it was very hot and sultry, and at noon the\nthunder heads were piled high all around the horizon.\n\n\"I don't doubt but we shall have showers this afternoon,\" said Father\nFlower, when he came in from the garden for his dinner.\n\nAfter the dinner-dishes were washed up, and the baby rocked to sleep,\nFlax came to her mother with a petition.\n\n\"Mother,\" said she, \"won't you give me a holiday this afternoon?\"\n\n\"Why, where do you want to go, Flax?\" said her mother.\n\n\"I want to go over on the mountain and hunt for wild flowers,\" replied\nFlax.\n\n\"But I think it is going to rain, child, and you will get wet.\"\n\n\"That won't hurt me any, mother,\" said Flax, laughing.\n\n\"Well, I don't know as I care,\" said her mother, hesitatingly. \"You have\nbeen a very good industrious girl, and deserve a little holiday. Only\ndon't go so far that you cannot soon run home if a shower should come\nup.\"\n\nSo Flax curled her flaxen hair and tied it up with a blue ribbon, and\nput on her blue and white checked dress. By the time she was ready to go\nthe clouds over in the northwest were piled up very high and black, and\nit was quite late in the afternoon. Very likely her mother would not\nhave let her go if she had been at home, but she had taken the baby, who\nhad waked from his nap, and gone to call on her nearest neighbor, half a\nmile away. As for her father, he was busy in the garden, and all the\nother children were with him, and they did not notice Flax when she\nstole out of the front door. She crossed the river on a pretty arched\nstone bridge nearly opposite the house, and went directly into the woods\non the side of the mountain.\n\nEverything was very still and dark and solemn in the woods. They knew\nabout the storm that was coming. Now and then Flax heard the leaves\ntalking in queer little rustling voices. She inherited the ability to\nunderstand what they said from her father. They were talking to each\nother now in the words of her father's song. Very likely he had heard\nthem saying it sometime, and that was how he happened to know it.\n\n \"O what is it shineth so golden-clear\n At the rainbow's foot on the dark green hill?\"\n\nFlax heard the maple-leaves inquire. And the pine-leaves answered back:\n\n \"'Tis the Pot of Gold, that for many a year\n Has shone, and is shining and dazzling still.\"\n\nThen the maple-leaves asked:\n\n \"And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?\"\n\nAnd the pine-leaves answered:\n\n \"For thee, Sweetheart, shouldst thou go that way.\"\n\nFlax did not exactly understand the sense of the last question and\nanswer between maple and pine-leaves. But they kept on saying it\nover and over as she ran along. She was going straight to the tall\npine-tree. She knew just where it was, for she had often been there. Now\nthe rain-drops began to splash through the green boughs, and the thunder\nrolled along the sky. The leaves all tossed about in a strong wind and\ntheir soft rustles grew into a roar, and the branches and the whole tree\ncaught it up and called out so loud, as they writhed and twisted about\nthat Flax was almost deafened, the words of the song:\n\n \"O what is it shineth so golden-clear?\"\n\nFlax sped along through the wind and the rain and the thunder. She was\nvery much afraid that she should not reach the tall pine which was quite\na way distant before the sun shone out, and the rainbow came.\n\nThe sun was already breaking through the clouds when she came in sight\nof it, way up above her on a rock. The rain-drops on the trees began to\nshine like diamonds, and the words of the song rushed out from their\nmidst, louder and sweeter:\n\n \"O what is it shineth so golden-clear?\"\n\nFlax climbed for dear life. Red and green and golden rays were already\nfalling thick around her, and at the foot of the pine-tree something was\nshining wonderfully clear and bright.\n\nAt last she reached it, and just at that instant the rainbow became a\nperfect one, and there at the foot of the wonderful arch of glory was\nthe Pot of Gold. Flax could see it brighter than all the brightness of\nthe rainbow. She sank down beside it and put her hand on it, then she\nclosed her eyes and sat still, bathed in red and green and violet\nlight--that, and the golden light from the Pot, made her blind and\ndizzy. As she sat there with her hand on the Pot of Gold at the foot\nof the rainbow, she could hear the leaves over her singing louder and\nlouder, till the tones fairly rushed like a wind through her ears. But\nthis time they only sang the last words of the song:\n\n \"And whom is it for, O Pilgrim, pray?\n For thee, Sweetheart, shouldst thou go that way.\"\n\nAt last she ventured to open her eyes. The rainbow had faded almost\nentirely away, only a few tender rose and green shades were arching over\nher; but the Pot of Gold under her hand was still there, and shining\nbrighter than ever. All the pine needles with which the ground around it\nwas thickly spread, were turned to needles of gold, and some stray\ncouplets of leaves which were springing up through them were all gilded.\n\nFlax bent over it trembling and lifted the lid off the pot. She\nexpected, of course, to find it full of gold pieces that would buy the\ngrand house and the gardener and the maid that her father had spoken\nabout. But to her astonishment, when she had lifted the lid off and bent\nover the Pot to look into it, the first thing she saw was the face of\nher mother looking out of it at her. It was smaller of course, but just\nthe same loving, kindly face she had left at home. Then, as she looked\nlonger, she saw her father smiling gently up at her, then came Poppy and\nthe baby and all the rest of her dear little brothers and sisters\nsmiling up at her out of the golden gloom inside the Pot. At last she\nactually saw the garden and her father in it tying up the roses, and the\npretty little vine-covered house, and, finally, she could see right into\nthe dear little room where her mother sat with the baby in her lap, and\nall the others around her.\n\nFlax jumped up. \"I will run home,\" said she, \"it is late, and I do want\nto see them all dreadfully.\"\n\nSo she left the Golden Pot shining all alone under the pine-tree, and\nran home as fast as she could.\n\nWhen she reached the house it was almost twilight, but her father was\nstill in the garden. Every rose and lily had to be tied up after the\nshower, and he was but just finishing. He had the tin milk pan hung on\nhim like a shield, because it rhymed with man. It certainly was a\nbeautiful rhyme, but it was very inconvenient. Poor Mother Flower was at\nher wits' end to know what to do without it, and it was very awkward for\nFather Flower to work with it fastened to him.\n\nFlax ran breathlessly into the garden, and threw her arms around her\nfather's neck and kissed him. She bumped her nose against the milk pan,\nbut she did not mind that; she was so glad to see him again. Somehow,\nshe never remembered being so glad to see him as she was now since she\nhad seen his face in the Pot of Gold.\n\n\"Dear father,\" cried she, \"how glad I am to see you! I found the Pot of\nGold at the end of the rainbow!\"\n\nHer father stared at her in amazement.\n\n\"Yes, I did, truly, father,\" said she. \"But it was not full of gold,\nafter all. You were in it, and mother and the children and the house and\ngarden and--everything.\"\n\n\"You were mistaken, dear,\" said her father, looking at her with his\ngentle, sorrowful eyes. \"You could not have found the true end of the\nrainbow, nor the true Pot of Gold--that is surely full of the most\nbeautiful gold pieces, with an angel stamped on every one.\"\n\n\"But I did, father,\" persisted Flax.\n\n\"You had better go into your mother, Flax,\" said her father; \"she will\nbe anxious to see you. I know better than you about the Pot of Gold at\nthe end of the rainbow.\"\n\nSo Flax went sorrowfully into the house. There was the tea-kettle\nsinging beside the \"skettle,\" which had some nice smelling soup in it,\nthe table was laid for supper, and there sat her mother with the baby in\nher lap and the others all around her--just as they had looked in the\nPot of Gold.\n\nFlax had never been so glad to see them before--and if she didn't hug\nand kiss them all!\n\n\"I found the Pot of Gold at the end of the rainbow, mother,\" cried she,\n\"and it was not full of gold, at all; but you and father and the\nchildren looked out of it at me, and I saw the house and garden and\neverything in it.\"\n\nHer mother looked at her lovingly. \"Yes, Flax dear,\" said she.\n\n\"But father said I was mistaken,\" said Flax, \"and did not find it.\"\n\n\"Well dear,\" said her mother, \"your father is a poet, and very wise; we\nwill say no more about it. You can sit down here and hold the baby now,\nwhile I make the tea.\"\n\nFlax was perfectly ready to do that; and, as she sat there with her\ndarling little baby brother crowing in her lap, and watched her pretty\nlittle brothers and sisters and her dear mother, she felt so happy that\nshe did not care any longer whether she found the true Pot of Gold or\nnot.\n\nBut, after all, do you know, I think her father was mistaken, and that\nshe had.\n\n [F] From \"The Pot of Gold and Other Stories,\" by Mary E.\n Wilkins Freeman, published by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company; used by\n special arrangement.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRY THORN\n\n_An Ulster Ballad_\n\nBY SAMUEL FERGUSON\n\n\n \"Get up, our Anna dear, from the weary spinning wheel,\n For your father's on the hill, and your mother is asleep:\n Come up above the crags, and we'll dance a Highland reel\n Around the fairy thorn on the steep.\"\n\n At Anna Grace's door, 't was thus the maidens cried--\n Three merry maidens fair, in kirtles of the green;\n And Anna laid the sock and the weary wheel aside--\n The fairest of the four, I ween.\n\n They're glancing through the glimmer of the quiet eve,\n Away in milky wavings of the neck and ankle bare;\n The heavy-sliding stream in its sleepy song they leave,\n And the crags in the ghostly air;\n\n And linking hand in hand, and singing as they go,\n The maids along the hillside have ta'en their fearless way,\n Till they come to where the rowan trees in lonely beauty grow\n Beside the Fairy Hawthorn gray.\n\n The Hawthorn stands between the ashes tall and slim,\n Like matron with her twin grand-daughters at her knee;\n The rowan berries cluster o'er her low head, gray and dim,\n In ruddy kisses sweet to see.\n\n The merry maidens four have ranged them in a row,\n Between each lovely couple a stately rowan stem;\n And away in mazes wavy, like skimming birds, they go--\n Oh, never carroled bird like them!\n\n But solemn is the silence of the silvery haze,\n That drinks away their voices in echoless repose;\n And dreamily the evening has stilled the haunted braes,\n And dreamier the gloaming grows.\n\n And sinking, one by one, like lark-notes from the sky,\n When the falcon's shadow saileth across the open shaw,\n Are hushed the maidens' voices, as cowering down they lie\n In the flutter of their sudden awe.\n\n For, from the air above, and the grassy ground beneath,\n And from the mountain-ashes and the old white thorn between,\n A power of faint enchantment doth through their beings breathe,\n And they sink down together on the green.\n\n They sink together silent, and stealing side by side,\n They fling their lovely arms o'er their drooping necks so fair;\n Then vainly strive again their naked arms to hide,\n For their shrinking necks again are bare.\n\n Thus clasped and prostrate all, with their heads together bowed,\n Soft o'er their bosoms beating--the only human sound--\n They hear the silky footsteps of the silent fairy crowd,\n Like a river in the air, gliding round.\n\n Nor scream can raise, nor prayer can any say,\n But wild, wild the terror of the speechless three;\n For they feel fair Anna Grace drawn silently away,\n By whom, they dare not look to see.\n\n They feel their tresses twine with her parting locks of gold,\n And the curls elastic falling, as her head withdraws;\n They feel her sliding arms from their tranc\u00e8d arms unfold,\n But they dare not look to see the cause.\n\n For heavy on their senses the faint enchantment lies,\n Through all that night of anguish and perilous amaze;\n And neither fear nor wonder can open their quivering eyes,\n Or their limbs from the cold ground raise.\n\n Till out of night the earth has rolled her dewy side,\n With every haunted mountain and streamy vale below;\n When, as the mist dissolves in the yellow morning tide,\n The maidens' trance dissolveth so.\n\n They fly, the ghastly three, as swiftly as they may,\n And told their tale of sorrow to anxious friends in vain--\n They pined away and died within the year and day,\n And ne'er was Anna Grace seen again.\n\n\n\n\nFAIRY DAYS\n\nBY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY\n\n\n Beside the old hall fire, upon my nurse's knee,\n Of happy fairy days, what tales were told to me!\n I thought the world was once all peopled with princesses,\n And my heart would beat to hear their loves and their distresses.\n And many a quiet night, in slumber sweet and deep,\n The pretty fairy people would visit me in sleep.\n\n I saw them in my dreams come flying east and west;\n With wondrous fairy gifts the newborn babe they blessed.\n One has brought a jewel, and one a crown of gold,\n And one has brought a curse, but she is wrinkled and old.\n The gentle queen turns pale to hear those words of sin,\n But the king, he only laughs, and bids the dance begin.\n\n The babe has grown to be the fairest of the land,\n And rides the forest green, a hawk upon her hand,\n An ambling palfrey white, a golden robe and crown;\n I've seen her in my dreams riding up and down:\n And heard the ogre laugh, as she fell into his snare,\n At the tender little creature, who wept and tore her hair.\n\n But ever when it seemed her need was at the sorest,\n A prince in shining mail comes prancing through the forest,\n A waving ostrich-plume, a buckler burnished bright;\n I've seen him in my dreams, good sooth! a gallant knight.\n His lips are coral red beneath a dark mustache;\n See how he waves his hand and how his blue eyes flash!\n\n \"Come forth, thou Paynim knight!\" he shouts in accents clear.\n The giant and the maid, both tremble his voice to hear.\n Saint Mary guard him well! he draws his falchion keen,\n The giant and the knight are fighting on the green.\n I see them in my dreams, his blade gives stroke on stroke,\n The giant pants and reels, and tumbles like an oak!\n\n With what a blushing grace he falls upon his knee\n And takes the lady's hand and whispers, \"You are free.\"\n Ah! happy childish tales of knight and fa\u00ebrie!\n I waken from my dreams, but there's ne'er a knight for me;\n I waken from my dreams, and wish that I could be\n A child by the old hall-fire upon my nurse's knee!\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: A VISIT TO ELFLAND\n From the painting by F. Y. Cory]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRY QUEEN\n\n\n Come, follow, follow me--\n You, fairy elves that be,\n Which circle on the green--\n Come, follow Mab, your queen!\n Hand in hand let's dance around,\n For this place is fairy ground.\n\n When mortals are at rest,\n And snoring in their nest,\n Unheard and unespied,\n Through keyholes we do glide;\n Over tables, stools, and shelves,\n We trip it with our fairy elves.\n\n And if the house be foul\n With platter, dish, or bowl,\n Up stairs we nimbly creep,\n And find the sluts asleep;\n There we pinch their arms and thighs--\n None escapes, nor none espies.\n\n But if the house be swept,\n And from uncleanness kept,\n We praise the household maid,\n And duly she is paid;\n For we use, before we go,\n To drop a tester in her shoe.\n\n Upon a mushroom's head,\n Our table cloth we spread;\n A grain of rye or wheat\n Is manchet, which we eat;\n Pearly drops of dew we drink,\n In acorn cups, filled to the brink.\n\n The brains of nightingales,\n With unctuous fat of snails,\n Between two cockles stewed,\n Is meat that's easily chewed;\n Tails of worms, and marrow of mice,\n Do make a dish that's wondrous nice.\n\n The grasshopper, gnat, and fly,\n Serve us for our minstrelsy;\n Grace said, we dance a while,\n And so the time beguile;\n And if the moon doth hide her head,\n The glow-worm lights us home to bed.\n\n On tops of dewy grass\n So nimbly do we pass,\n The young and tender stalk\n Ne'er bends when we do walk;\n Yet in the morning may be seen\n Where we the night before have been.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEA PRINCESS\n\n\n In a palace of pearl and sea-weed,\n Set round with shining shells,\n Under the deeps of the ocean,\n The little Sea Princess dwells.\n\n Sometimes she sees the shadows\n Of great whales passing by,\n Or white-winged vessels sailing\n Between the sea and sky.\n\n And when through the waves she rises,\n Beyond the breakers' roar,\n She hears the shouts of the children\n At play on the sandy shore.\n\n Or sees the ships' sides tower\n Above like a wet, black wall;\n Or shouts to the roaring breakers,\n And answers the sea-gull's call.\n\n But, down in the quiet waters,\n Better she loves to play,\n Making a sea-weed garden--\n Purple and green and gray;\n\n Stringing with pearls a necklace,\n Or learning curious spells\n From the water-witch, gray and ancient,\n And hearing the tales she tells.\n\n Out in the stable her sea-horse\n Champs in his crystal stall;\n And fishes with scales that glisten\n Come leaping forth at her call.\n\n So the little Sea Princess\n Is busy and happy all day,\n Just as the human children\n Are busy and happy at play.\n\n And when the darkness gathers\n Over the lonely deep,\n On a bed of velvet sea-weed\n The Princess is rocked to sleep.\n\n\n\n\nLONG AGO\n\n\n When the fairies used to live here,\n Long ago,\n There was never any dark,\n Or any snow;\n But the great big sun kept shining\n All the night,\n And the roses just kept blooming,\n Oh, so bright!\n\n Then the little children never\n Teased their mothers;\n And little sisters always\n Loved their brothers.\n And they played so very gently--\n But, you know,\n That was when the fairies lived here,\n Long ago.\n\n\n\n\nTHISTLE-TASSEL[G]\n\nBY FLORENCE HARRISON\n\n\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n Dancing in the sunlight;\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n With your silver wings,\n Will you come and live with me\n In my little nursery,\n Down beside a royal city,\n Where the river sings?\n\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n Stepping in the sunlight;\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n Where the rivers run,\n What have you to give to me,\n In your pretty nursery,\n Fairer than a shady valley,\n Brighter than the sun?\n\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n Dancing in the twilight;\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n With your yellow hair,\n You shall have a couch of down,\n You shall have a golden crown,\n And a little gown of silver\n Sewn for you to wear.\n\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n Stooping in the twilight;\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n All so bonnie brown,\n Roses are a softer bed,\n Golden flowers crown my head,\n Finer than a robe o' silver\n Is a fairy gown.\n\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n Dancing in the starlight;\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n With a bright penny\n You shall buy the sugar plums,\n And the honey when it comes,\n Very sweet, and golden-glowing\n As the honey bee.\n\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n Sighing in the starlight;\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n In the heather curled,\n Fairy fruit is full and clear,\n And the honey bee is here:\n Never need have we of money\n In a fairy world.\n\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n Dancing in the moonlight;\n Thistle-Tassel, Thistle-Tassel,\n Queen of fairy ones,\n I will give you street and spire,\n Boat, and bridge, and beacon fire,\n And a sound of merry music\n Where the river runs.\n\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n Kneeling in the moonlight;\n Little Lady, Little Lady,\n In your yellow shoon:\n Where the boats and bridges be,\n Naught have you to give to me\n Fairer than a twilit valley,\n Brighter than the moon.\n\n [G] From \"Elfin Songs,\" by Florence Harrison; used by\n permission of the publishers, Blackie & Sons, Glasgow.\n\n\n\n\nSONG OF THE FAIRY\n\nBY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE\n\n\n Over hill, over dale,\n Through bush, through brier,\n Over park, over pale,\n Through flood, through fire,\n I do wander everywhere,\n Swifter than the moon's sphere;\n And I serve the fairy queen,\n To dew her orbs upon the green;\n The cowslips tall her pensioners be;\n In their gold coats spots you see:\n These be rubies, fairy favors--\n In those freckles live their savors.\n I must go seek some dewdrops here,\n And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: _From a Thistle Print, copyright by Detroit Publishing\n Company_\n LITTLE OLD MAN OF THE WOODS\n FROM A PAINTING BY IRVING R. BACON]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FAIRIES\n\nBY WILLIAM ALLINGHAM\n\n\n Up the airy mountain,\n Down the rushy glen,\n We daren't go a-hunting\n For fear of little men;\n Wee folk, good folk,\n Trooping all together:\n Green jacket, red cap,\n And white owl's feather!\n\n Down along the rocky shore\n Some make their home,\n They live on crispy pancakes\n Of yellow tide-foam;\n Some in the reeds\n Of the black mountain-lake,\n With frogs for their watch-dogs,\n All night awake.\n\n High on the hill-top\n The old King sits;\n He is now so old and gray\n He's nigh lost his wits.\n With a bridge of white mist\n Columbkill he crosses,\n On his stately journeys\n From Slieveleague to Rosses;\n Or going up with music\n On cold starry nights,\n To sup with the Queen\n Of the gay Northern Lights.\n\n They stole little Bridget\n For seven years long;\n When she came down again\n Her friends were all gone.\n They took her lightly back,\n Between the night and morrow,\n They thought that she was fast asleep,\n But she was dead with sorrow.\n They have kept her ever since\n Deep within the lake,\n On a bed of flag-leaves,\n Watching till she wake.\n\n By the craggy hill-side,\n Through the mosses bare,\n They have planted thorn-trees\n For pleasure here and there.\n Is any man so daring\n As dig them up in spite,\n He shall find their sharpest thorns\n In his bed at night.\n\n Up the airy mountain,\n Down the rushy glen,\n We daren't go a-hunting\n For fear of little men;\n Wee folk, good folk,\n Trooping all together;\n Green jacket, red cap,\n And white owl's feather!\n\n\n\n\nOH, WHERE DO FAIRIES HIDE THEIR HEADS?\n\nBY THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY\n\n\n Oh, where do fairies hide their heads\n When snow lies on the hills,\n When frost has spoiled their mossy beds,\n And crystallized their rills?\n\n Beneath the moon they cannot trip\n In circles o'er the plain,\n And draughts of dew they cannot sip\n Till green leaves come again.\n\n Perhaps, in small blue diving-bells\n They plunge beneath the waves--\n Inhabiting the wreath\u00e8d shells\n That lie in coral caves.\n Perhaps in red Vesuvius\n Carousal they maintain;\n And cheer their little spirits thus\n Till green leaves come again.\n\n Or, maybe, in soft garments rolled,\n In hollow trees they lie,\n And sing, when nestled from the cold,\n To while the season by.\n There, while they sleep in pleasant trance,\n 'Neath mossy counterpane,\n In dreams they weave some fairy dance,\n Till green leaves come again.\n\n When they return there will be mirth\n And music in the air,\n And fairy rings upon the earth,\n And mischief everywhere.\n The maids, to keep the elves aloof,\n Will bar the doors in vain;\n No key-hole will be fairy-proof,\n When green leaves come again.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: MODERN FAIRY TALES]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ELF OF THE WOODLANDS\n\nRETOLD FROM RICHARD HENGIST HORNE BY WILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH\n\n\nOne morning when the summer sun was still sleeping an Elf came up from\nbelow, tickling an oak-tree's foot, skipping like a flea, and\nwhispering mischievously to himself.\n\n \"With little legs straddling,\n He dances about--\n Pretends to be waddling--\n Then leaps with a flout.\n Now he stops--\n Now he hops--\n Now cautiously trips\n On tiptoe\n And sliptoe\n He scuttles and skips;\n Along the grass gliding,\n Half dancing, half sliding.\"\n\nThere was a pretty white cottage on the edge of the wood, and, with\neverybody quiet within, it also seemed asleep. Toward this cottage\nskipped the Elf.\n\nHe was a little fellow, scarce five inches tall. His body was as brown\nas the bark of a tree, all mixed with green streaks and tarnished gold.\nYou could hardly see him as he went stooping along against the green\nleaves and the brown branches.\n\nWhen he got to the sleeping cottage he climbed up the lattice, and\npoked his sharp little nose into every crevice. He pulled open a loose\nshutter, tapped once or twice on the windows, and when he found a broken\npane--in he went!\n\nIn this cottage lived a girl named Toody. She was not very big, as you\ncan believe when I tell you that all the shrubs in the garden were\ntaller than she, and all the flowers nodded over her head. In this same\nhouse lived Toody's cousins, Kitty, and Crocus, and Twig, and Tiny--only\nTiny was a little dog, not a little boy. And here, too, lived\nGrandmother Grey.\n\n \"In spectacles, tucker and flower'd-chintz gown,\n Who always half smiled when trying to frown.\"\n\nGrandmother Grey took care of them all. At five o'clock that morning she\nwoke up. \"What noise do I hear below?\" she cried. \"It is daylight, but\nnobody is up I know.\"\n\nSo Grandmother Grey threw off her skullcap and bandage, and nightcap\nwith all its ribbons, bows and strings, and called out loudly: \"Come,\nchildren, jump up quickly! There's a rat in the dairy! Come down with\nme.\"\n\nThen Toody, and Crocus, and Kitty, and Twig, in their nightgowns and\nnightcaps, ran scrambling and laughing down stairs, with Tiny barking\nand tumbling about between their legs. They crept through the parlor,\nwhere all the shutters were closed but one. Like cautious Indians they\nwent silently on, Dame Grey and the children in single file, each\nholding on to the one before by the tail of her nightgown.\n\nInto the dairy they went, and stared about. Then they huddled together\nin fear, for behind a milk-jug, under the spout, they saw a quaint\nlittle figure.\n\n \"It was golden, and greenish, and earthy brown,\n With a perking nose and a pointed chin;\n It had very bright eyes and a funny frown,\n With a russet-apple's network skin.\"\n\nThey all started to run in terror, but brave Tiny sprang up and began to\nchase the Elf round a milkpan.\n\nOh, what a race was there! They ran so fast that the two small bodies\nwere as one. They looked like the dark band on the humming-top when you\nspin it. And just as Tiny was about to catch him, the Elf leaped into a\npan, swam across three pails of milk, climbed the wall and hid on a\nshelf.\n\n\"We've lost him; we've lost him!\" cried all the children. But, just in\ntime, Grandmother Grey seized her jelly-bag, swung it across the shelf,\nand into it was swept our little elfin friend.\n\n\"Now, children,\" said she, \"Go up and dress.\"\n\nThe children did not know what the old dame was going to do next. She\nled the way into the parlor. \"Tiny,\" said she, \"I depend on you to keep\nwatch for us.\" So Tiny stood like a soldier, with both ears cocked and\nhis nose down bent, and watched every motion that was going on in the\nbag, which stood up now like a tent on the floor.\n\n'Twas but a minute before the children were down again, all dressed.\nThe tea-kettle was singing, and the hot rolls were on the table, and\neverybody was ringing the bell all at once for more eggs. But Tiny stood\nguard over the jelly-bag tent.\n\n\"I think the Elf is hungry and thirsty,\" said Toody. So she slipped a\nsaucer of milk under the edge of the tent, and then, laughing, she\nrolled in an egg. They all listened for ten minutes, and then they\nplainly heard the crackling of the shell.\n\n\"Away with the tea things!\" said Dame Grey to Martha, the maid. \"And\nbring me my white wicker bird-cage.\"\n\nSo the bird-cage was brought, and Grandmother Grey took up the jelly-bag\ncarefully, clapped its mouth to the open cage-door, shook it, and--pop!\nin went the Elf, and the cage door was made fast! Did he moan? Did he\ncomplain? Not he. With one spring and ten kicks he climbed to the pole\nand seated himself there, with his hands on the pole.\n\nToody ran close to the cage, and so did Crocus and Twig; and Kitty, a\nlittle farther off, stood staring and smiling. But the Elf was not a bit\nfrightened. He sat swinging his little legs, with his tongue in his left\ncheek and his left eye looking down with a half-winking, impertinent\nair.\n\n\"Now,\" cried Dame Grey, \"tell us who you are, little Sir, and what you\nare. Do you know that you have spoilt all my cream, and broken my best\nchina-cup? Speak up now! What have you to say for yourself?\"\n\nThe Elf was very angry, but it would never do to show it. So he tried\nto look as gentle as a good child reading a book. He rubbed some of\nthe yellow of the egg off his chin, and stuck it on his leg like a\nbuttercup. He shrugged his shoulders up in a bunch, and then, with a\nsneeze as if he had caught cold in the forest, he began:\n\n \"Nine white witches sat in a circle close,\n With their backs against a greenwood tree,\n As around the dead-nettle's summer stem\n Its woolly white blossoms you see.\n Then from hedges and ditches, these old lady-witches,\n Took bird-weed and rag-weed and spear-grass for me,\n And they wove me a bower, 'gainst the snow-storm or shower,\n In a dry old hollow beech tree.\n _Twangle tee!_\n _Ri-rigdum, dingle shade-laugh, tingle dee!_\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" said Grandmother Grey. \"You can't fool me with your nettles,\nand nonsense, and hedges, and ditches. What do I care about all that?\nYou know as well as I do that you came here to _steal cake_ and _drink\ncream_. Besides, you have broken my best china-cup!\"\n\nThe Elf gave a sigh, and looked up in the air; then took a glance at\nMartha's broom, and as he looked down he thought he saw Toody winking at\nhim. So he just smiled and said: \"I declare, by the tom-tit's folly, and\nthe mole's pin-hole eye, and the woodpecker's thorny tongue, that I have\ntold you the truth.\"\n\nNoticing that Toody was still winking at him he kept on, and told the\nfollowing story:\n\n\"One day when I was loafing about in the wood I heard a strange noise in\nthe bushes. I peeped over the edge, and there was a robin bathing in the\nbrook. It ruffled its feathers with a spattering sound, made itself into\na fussy ball, and threw up a shower of water; but what I most noticed\nwas its eye--its eye!--\"\n\n\"Its eye--its eye?\" broke in all the children. \"What about its eye?\"\n\nThe Elf glanced again at Toody, and he saw that this time she gave him a\nquiet nod, as much as to say, \"I'll find you a chance.\" So the Elf gave\na downward squint at the closed cage-door, just for a hint. Then he\nscratched his cheek, jumped down on the floor of the cage, and began to\nact out a \"robin,\" just as if he were on the stage.\n\n\"Its eye--its eye? Well, just as soon as it caught a glimpse of me it\nbobbed--took wing--and was out of sight. Then back it came again, as if\nangry. It looked like an alderman lecturing the poor, but meaning really\nto--_unlock the cage!_ I mean--to try to fool me. See! How high it\nflies. Clear up to the tip-top of the tree. Look at its large bright\neye! There! There! See how it bobs--makes a quick bow, just as I am\ndoing--points down its tail and up its nose--and off it goes!\"\n\nAnd out and off went the Elf!\n\n\"Run, Tiny, run! Oh, Kitty! Twig! The little rascal is gone! Run, Toody,\nrun! Ah, I caught you; you are the one who loosened the cage-door. Run,\nTiny! Oh, Kitty, Twig, and Crocus, that robin redbreast story was only\nmeant to fool us!\" Thus cried Grandmother Grey, till she was breathless.\n\n \"Off they all ran trooping,\n And hallooing and whooping,\n Beneath the low boughs stooping,\n Right through the wood,\n For Grandmama Grey,\n Like an old duck, led the way,\n When a string of ducks trudge to a flood.\n Then came Kitty, side by side\n With Toody, who oft cried;\n 'Oh, Kitty dear, was ever such rare fun, fun, fun!'\n And Crocus close to Twig,\n Both scampered in a jig,\n For they knew the Elf his freedom-race had won, won, won!\n As for him, the roguish Elf,\n He took good care of himself;\n His mites of legs they twinkled as he fled, fled, fled.\n He was scarcely seen, indeed,\n He so glistened with his speed,\n And his hair streamed out like silver grass behind his head.\"\n\nSo Dame Grey and the children chased the Elf till they were hot and\ntired, and till the sun went down; and by and by they gave up, and all\nwent home to let Martha wash their soiled hands and faces.\n\nIt was a warm and pleasant night, and before very long all the children\nwere fast asleep.\n\n \"Within a very little nook,\n Toody always slept alone,\n Its strip of window stole a look\n Over the lawn and hayrick-cone.\n\n Within the open lattice crept\n Some jasmine from the cottage wall,\n And to the breathing of her sleep,\n Softly swayed, with rise and fall.\n\n But something else comes creeping in,\n As softly, from the starry night--\n The Elf!--'tis he!--first peeping in,\n Now like a moth doth he alight.\n\n He trips up to the little bed,\n And near it hangs a full-blown rose;\n Then in the middle of the flower\n Places a light that gleams and glows.\n\n It is a glowworm from the lea,\n And lighting up the rose's heart,\n A fairy grot it seems to be,\n Where dream-thoughts live and ne'er depart.\n\n And now the Elf once more is gone\n Into the woodlands wild,\n Leaving his blessing thus to shine\n Upon the sleeping child.\"\n\n\n\n\nPRINCESS FINOLA AND THE DWARF[H]\n\nBY EDMUND LEAMY\n\n\nA long, long time ago there lived in a little hut in the midst of a\nbare, brown, lonely moor an old woman and a young girl. The old woman\nwas withered, sour-tempered, and dumb. The young girl was as sweet and\nas fresh as an opening rosebud, and her voice was as musical as the\nwhisper of a stream in the woods in the hot days of summer. The little\nhut, made of branches woven closely together, was shaped like a\nbee-hive. In the center of the hut a fire burned night and day from\nyear's end to year's end, though it was never touched or tended by human\nhand. In the cold days and nights of winter it gave out light and heat\nthat made the hut cozy and warm, but in the summer nights and days it\ngave out light only. With their heads to the wall of the hut and their\nfeet toward the fire were two sleeping-couches--one of plain woodwork,\nin which slept the old woman; the other was Finola's. It was of bog-oak,\npolished as a looking-glass, and on it were carved flowers and birds of\nall kinds that gleamed and shone in the light of the fire. This couch\nwas fit for a Princess, and a Princess Finola was, though she did not\nknow it herself.\n\nOutside the hut the bare, brown, lonely moor stretched for miles on\nevery side, but toward the east it was bounded by a range of mountains\nthat looked to Finola blue in the daytime, but which put on a hundred\nchanging colors as the sun went down. Nowhere was a house to be seen,\nnor a tree, nor a flower, nor sign of any living thing. From morning\ntill night, nor hum of bee, nor song of bird, nor voice of man, nor any\nsound fell on Finola's ear. When the storm was in the air the great\nwaves thundered on the shore beyond the mountains, and the wind shouted\nin the glens; but when it sped across the moor it lost its voice, and\npassed as silently as the dead. At first the silence frightened Finola,\nbut she got used to it after a time, and often broke it by talking to\nherself and singing.\n\nThe only other person beside the old woman Finola ever saw was a dumb\nDwarf who, mounted on a broken-down horse, came once a month to the hut,\nbringing with him a sack of corn for the old woman and Finola. Although\nhe couldn't speak to her, Finola was always glad to see the Dwarf and\nhis old horse, and she used to give them cake made with her own white\nhands. As for the Dwarf he would have died for the little Princess, he\nwas so much in love with her, and often and often his heart was heavy\nand sad as he thought of her pining away in the lonely moor.\n\nIt chanced that he came one day, and she did not, as usual, come out to\ngreet him. He made signs to the old woman, but she took up a stick and\nstruck him, and beat his horse and drove him away; but as he was leaving\nhe caught a glimpse of Finola at the door of the hut, and saw that she\nwas crying. This sight made him so very miserable that he could think of\nnothing else but her sad face, that he had always seen so bright; and he\nallowed the old horse to go on without minding where he was going.\nSuddenly he heard a voice saying: \"It is time for you to come.\"\n\nThe Dwarf looked, and right before him, at the foot of a green hill, was\na little man not half as big as himself, dressed in a green jacket with\nbrass buttons, and a red cap and tassel.\n\n\"It is time for you to come,\" he said the second time; \"but you are\nwelcome, anyhow. Get off your horse and come in with me, that I may\ntouch your lips with the wand of speech, that we may have a talk\ntogether.\"\n\nThe Dwarf got off his horse and followed the little man through a hole\nin the side of a green hill. The hole was so small that he had to go on\nhis hands and knees to pass through it, and when he was able to stand he\nwas only the same height as the little Fairyman. After walking three or\nfour steps they were in a splendid room, as bright as day. Diamonds\nsparkled in the roof as stars sparkle in the sky when the night is\nwithout a cloud. The roof rested on golden pillars, and between the\npillars were silver lamps, but their light was dimmed by that of the\ndiamonds. In the middle of the room was a table, on which were two\ngolden plates and two silver knives and forks, and a brass bell as big\nas a hazelnut, and beside the table were two little chairs.\n\n\"Take a chair,\" said the Fairy, \"and I will ring for the wand of\nspeech.\"\n\nThe Dwarf sat down, and the Fairyman rang the little brass bell, and in\ncame a little weeny Dwarf no bigger than your hand.\n\n\"Bring me the wand of speech,\" said the Fairy, and the weeny Dwarf bowed\nthree times and walked out backward, and in a minute he returned,\ncarrying a little black wand with a red berry at the top of it, and,\ngiving it to the Fairy, he bowed three times and walked out backward as\nhe had done before.\n\nThe little man waved the rod three times over the Dwarf, and struck him\nonce on the right shoulder and once on the left shoulder, and then\ntouched his lips with the red berry, and said: \"Speak!\"\n\nThe Dwarf spoke, and he was so rejoiced at hearing the sound of his own\nvoice that he danced about the room.\n\n\"Who are you at all, at all?\" said he to the Fairy.\n\n\"Who is yourself?\" said the Fairy. \"But come, before we have any talk\nlet us have something to eat, for I am sure you are hungry.\"\n\nThen they sat down to table, and the Fairy rang the little brass bell\ntwice, and the weeny Dwarf brought in two boiled snails in their shells,\nand when they had eaten the snails he brought in a dormouse, and when\nthey had eaten the dormouse he brought in two wrens, and when they had\neaten the wrens he brought in two nuts full of wine, and they became\nvery merry, and the Fairyman sang \"Cooleen Dhas,\" and the Dwarf sang\n\"The Little Blackbird of the Glen.\"\n\n\"Did you ever hear the 'Foggy Dew'?\" said the Fairy.\n\n\"No,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, I'll give it to you; but we must have some more wine.\"\n\nAnd the wine was brought, and he sang the \"Foggy Dew,\" and the Dwarf\nsaid it was the sweetest song he had ever heard, and that the Fairyman's\nvoice would coax the birds off the bushes!\n\n\"You asked me who I am?\" said the Fairy.\n\n\"I did,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"And I asked you who is yourself?\"\n\n\"You did,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"And who are you, then?\"\n\n\"Well, to tell the truth, I don't know,\" said the Dwarf, and he blushed\nlike a rose.\n\n\"Well, tell me what you know about yourself.\"\n\n\"I remember nothing at all,\" said the Dwarf, \"before the day I found\nmyself going along with a crowd of all sorts of people to the great fair\nof the Liffey. We had to pass by the King's palace on our way, and as we\nwere passing the King sent for a band of jugglers to come and show their\ntricks before him. I followed the jugglers to look on, and when the play\nwas over the King called me to him, and asked me who I was and where I\ncame from. I was dumb then, and couldn't answer; but even if I could\nspeak I could not tell him what he wanted to know, for I remembered\nnothing of myself before that day. Then the King asked the jugglers, but\nthey knew nothing about me, and no one knew anything, and then the King\nsaid he would take me into his service; and the only work I have to do\nis to go once a month with a bag of corn to the hut in the lonely moor.\"\n\n\"And there you fell in love with the little Princess,\" said the Fairy,\nwinking at the Dwarf.\n\nThe poor Dwarf blushed twice as much as he had done before.\n\n\"You need not blush,\" said the Fairy; \"it is a good man's case. And now\ntell me, truly, do you love the Princess, and what would you give to\nfree her from the spell of enchantment that is over her?\"\n\n\"I would give my life,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, listen to me,\" said the Fairy. \"The Princess Finola was\nbanished to the lonely moor by the King, your master. He killed her\nfather, who was the rightful King, and would have killed Finola, only he\nwas told by an old sorceress that if he killed her he would die himself\non the same day, and she advised him to banish her to the lonely moor,\nand she said she would fling a spell of enchantment over it, and that\nuntil the spell was broken Finola could not leave the moor. And the\nsorceress also promised that she would send an old woman to watch over\nthe Princess by night and by day, so that no harm should come to her;\nbut she told the King that he himself should select a messenger to take\nfood to the hut, and that he should look out for someone who had never\nseen or heard of the Princess, and whom he could trust never to tell\nanyone anything about her; and that is the reason he selected you.\"\n\n\"Since you know so much,\" said the Dwarf, \"can you tell me who I am, and\nwhere I came from?\"\n\n\"You will know that time enough,\" said the Fairy. \"I have given you back\nyour speech. It will depend solely on yourself whether you will get back\nyour memory of who and what you were before the day you entered the\nKing's service. But are you really willing to try and break the spell of\nenchantment and free the Princess?\"\n\n\"I am,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"Whatever it will cost you?\"\n\n\"Yes, if it cost me my life,\" said the Dwarf; \"but tell me, how can the\nspell be broken?\"\n\n\"Oh, it is easy enough to break the spell if you have the weapons,\" said\nthe Fairy.\n\n\"And what are they, and where are they?\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"The spear of the shining haft and the dark blue blade and the silver\nshield,\" said the Fairy. \"They are on the farther bank of the Mystic\nLake in the Island of the Western Seas. They are there for the man who\nis bold enough to seek them. If you are the man who will bring them back\nto the lonely moor you will only have to strike the shield three times\nwith the haft, and three times with the blade of the spear, and the\nsilence of the moor will be broken forever, the spell of enchantment\nwill be removed, and the Princess will be free.\"\n\n\"I will set out at once,\" said the Dwarf, jumping from his chair.\n\n\"And whatever it cost you,\" said the Fairy, \"will you pay the price?\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"Well, then, mount your horse, give him his head, and he will take you\nto the shore opposite the Island of the Mystic Lake. You must cross to\nthe island on his back, and make your way through the water-steeds that\nswim around the island night and day to guard it; but woe betide you if\nyou attempt to cross without paying the price, for if you do the angry\nwater-steeds will rend you and your horse to pieces. And when you come\nto the Mystic Lake you must wait until the waters are as red as wine,\nand then swim your horse across it, and on the farther side you will\nfind the spear and shield; but woe betide you if you attempt to cross\nthe lake before you pay the price, for if you do, the black Cormorants\nof the Western Seas will pick the flesh from your bones.\"\n\n\"What is the price?\" said the Dwarf.\n\n\"You will know that time enough,\" said the Fairy; \"but now go, and good\nluck go with you.\"\n\nThe Dwarf thanked the Fairy, and said good-by. He then threw the reins\non his horse's neck, and started up the hill, that seemed to grow bigger\nand bigger as he ascended, and the Dwarf soon found that what he took\nfor a hill was a great mountain. After traveling all the day, toiling up\nby steep crags and heathery passes, he reached the top as the sun was\nsetting in the ocean, and he saw far below him out in the waters the\nisland of the Mystic Lake.\n\nHe began his descent to the shore, but long before he reached it the sun\nhad set, and darkness, unpierced by a single star, dropped upon the sea.\nThe old horse, worn out by his long and painful journey, sank beneath\nhim, and the Dwarf was so tired that he rolled off his back and fell\nasleep by his side.\n\nHe awoke at the breaking of the morning, and saw that he was almost at\nthe water's edge. He looked out to sea, and saw the island, but nowhere\ncould he see the water-steeds, and he began to fear he must have taken a\nwrong course in the night, and that the island before him was not the\none he was in search of. But even while he was so thinking he heard\nfierce and angry snortings, and, coming swiftly from the island to the\nshore, he saw the swimming and prancing steeds. Sometimes their heads\nand manes only were visible, and sometimes, rearing, they rose half out\nof the water, and, striking it with their hoofs, churned it into foam,\nand tossed the white spray to the skies. As they approached nearer and\nnearer their snortings became more terrible, and their nostrils shot\nforth clouds of vapor. The Dwarf trembled at the sight and sound, and\nhis old horse, quivering in every limb, moaned piteously, as if in pain.\nOn came the steeds, until they almost touched the shore, then rearing,\nthey seemed about to spring on to it.\n\nThe frightened Dwarf turned his head to fly, and as he did so he heard\nthe twang of a golden harp, and right before him whom should he see but\nthe little man of the hills, holding a harp in one hand and striking the\nstrings with the other.\n\n\"Are you ready to pay the price?\" said he, nodding gayly to the Dwarf.\n\nAs he asked the question, the listening water-steeds snorted more\nfuriously than ever.\n\n\"Are you ready to pay the price?\" said the little man a second time.\n\nA shower of spray, tossed on shore by the angry steeds, drenched the\nDwarf to the skin, and sent a cold shiver to his bones, and he was so\nterrified that he could not answer.\n\n\"For the third and last time, are you ready to pay the price?\" asked the\nFairy, as he flung the harp behind him and turned to depart.\n\nWhen the Dwarf saw him going he thought of the little Princess in the\nlonely moor, and his courage came back, and he answered bravely:\n\n\"Yes, I am ready.\"\n\nThe water-steeds, hearing his answer, and snorting with rage, struck the\nshore with their pounding hoofs.\n\n\"Back to your waves!\" cried the little harper; and as he ran his fingers\nacross his lyre, the frightened steeds drew back into the waters.\n\n\"What is the price?\" asked the Dwarf.\n\n\"Your right eye,\" said the Fairy; and before the Dwarf could say a word,\nthe Fairy scooped out the eye with his finger, and put it into his\npocket.\n\nThe Dwarf suffered most terrible agony; but he resolved to bear it for\nthe sake of the little Princess. Then the Fairy sat down on a rock at\nthe edge of the sea, and, after striking a few notes, he began to play\nthe \"Strains of Slumber.\"\n\nThe sound crept along the waters, and the steeds, so ferocious a moment\nbefore, became perfectly still. They had no longer any motion of their\nown, and they floated on the top of the tide like foam before a breeze.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Fairy, as he led the Dwarf's horse to the edge of the\ntide.\n\nThe Dwarf urged the horse into the water, and once out of his depth, the\nold horse struck out boldly for the island. The sleeping water-steeds\ndrifted helplessly against him, and in a short time he reached the\nisland safely, and he neighed joyously as his hoofs touched solid\nground.\n\nThe Dwarf rode on and on, until he came to a bridle-path, and following\nthis, it led him up through winding lanes, bordered with golden furze\nthat filled the air with fragrance, and brought him to the summit of the\ngreen hills that girdled and looked down on the Mystic Lake. Here the\nhorse stopped of his own accord, and the Dwarf's heart beat quickly as\nhis eye rested on the lake, that, clipped round by the ring of hills,\nseemed in the breezeless and sunlit air--\n\n \"As still as death.\n And as bright as life can be.\"\n\nAfter gazing at it for a long time, he dismounted, and lay at his ease\nin the pleasant grass. Hour after hour passed, but no change came over\nthe face of the waters; and when the night fell, sleep closed the\neyelids of the Dwarf.\n\nThe song of the lark awoke him in the early morning, and, starting up,\nhe looked at the lake, but its waters were as bright as they had been\nthe day before.\n\nToward midday he beheld what he thought was a black cloud sailing across\nthe sky from east to west. It seemed to grow larger as it came nearer\nand nearer, and when it was high above the lake he saw it was a huge\nbird, the shadow of whose outstretched wings darkened the waters of the\nlake; and the Dwarf knew it was one of the Cormorants of the Western\nSeas. As it descended slowly, he saw that it held in one of its claws a\nbranch of a tree larger than a full-grown oak, and laden with clusters\nof ripe red berries. It alighted at some distance from the Dwarf, and,\nafter resting for a time, it began to eat the berries and to throw the\nstones into the lake, and wherever a stone fell a bright red stain\nappeared in the water. As he looked more closely at the bird the Dwarf\nsaw that it had all the signs of old age, and he could not help\nwondering how it was able to carry such a heavy tree.\n\nLater in the day, two other birds, as large as the first, but younger,\ncame up from the west and settled down beside him. They also ate the\nberries, and throwing the stones into the lake it was soon as red as\nwine.\n\nWhen they had eaten all the berries, the young birds began to pick the\ndecayed feathers off the old bird and to smooth his plumage. As soon as\nthey had completed their task, he rose slowly from the hill and sailed\nout over the lake, and dropping down on the waters dived beneath them.\nIn a moment he came to the surface, and shot up into the air with a\njoyous cry, and flew off to the west in all the vigor of renewed youth,\nfollowed by the other birds.\n\nWhen they had gone so far that they were like specks in the sky, the\nDwarf mounted his horse and descended toward the lake.\n\nHe was almost at the margin, and in another minute would have plunged\nin, when he heard a fierce screaming in the air, and before he had time\nto look up, the three birds were hovering over the lake.\n\nThe Dwarf drew back frightened.\n\nThe birds wheeled over his head, and then, swooping down, they flew\nclose to the water, covering it with their wings, and uttering harsh\ncries.\n\nThen, rising to a great height, they folded their wings and dropped\nheadlong, like three rocks, on the lake, crashing its surface, and\nscattering a wine-red shower upon the hills.\n\nThen the Dwarf remembered what the Fairy told him, that if he attempted\nto swim the lake, without paying the price, the three Cormorants of the\nWestern Seas would pick the flesh off his bones. He knew not what to do,\nand was about to turn away, when he heard once more the twang of the\ngolden harp, and the little fairy of the hills stood before him.\n\n\"Faint heart never won fair lady,\" said the little harper. \"Are you\nready to pay the price? The spear and shield are on the opposite bank,\nand the Princess Finola is crying this moment in the lonely moor.\"\n\nAt the mention of Finola's name the Dwarf's heart grew strong.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said; \"I am ready--win or die. What is the price?\"\n\n\"Your left eye,\" said the Fairy. And as soon as said he scooped out the\neye, and put it in his pocket.\n\nThe poor blind Dwarf almost fainted with pain.\n\n\"It's your last trial,\" said the Fairy, \"and now do what I tell you.\nTwist your horse's mane round your right hand, and I will lead him to\nthe water. Plunge in, and fear not. I gave you back your speech. When\nyou reach the opposite bank you will get back your memory, and you will\nknow who and what you are.\"\n\nThen the Fairy led the horse to the margin of the lake.\n\n\"In with you now, and good luck go with you,\" said the Fairy.\n\nThe Dwarf urged the horse. He plunged into the lake, and went down and\ndown until his feet struck the bottom. Then he began to ascend, and\nas he came near the surface of the water the Dwarf thought he saw a\nglimmering light, and when he rose above the water he saw the bright sun\nshining and the green hills before him, and he shouted with joy at\nfinding his sight restored.\n\nBut he saw more. Instead of the old horse he had ridden into the lake he\nwas bestride a noble steed, and as the steed swam to the bank the Dwarf\nfelt a change coming over himself, and an unknown vigor in his limbs.\n\nWhen the steed touched the shore he galloped up the hillside, and on the\ntop of the hill was a silver shield, bright as the sun, resting against\na spear standing upright in the ground.\n\nThe Dwarf jumped off, and, running toward the shield, he saw himself as\nin a looking-glass.\n\nHe was no longer a dwarf, but a gallant knight. At that moment his\nmemory came back to him, and he knew he was Conal, one of the Knights of\nthe Red Branch, and he remembered now that the spell of dumbness and\ndeformity had been cast upon him by the Witch of the Palace of the\nQuicken Trees.\n\nSlinging his shield upon his left arm, he plucked the spear from the\nground and leaped on to his horse. With a light heart he swam back over\nthe lake, and nowhere could he see the black Cormorants of the Western\nSeas, but three white swans floating abreast followed him to the bank.\nWhen he reached the bank he galloped down to the sea, and crossed to the\nshore.\n\nThen he flung the reins upon his horse's neck, and swifter than the wind\nthe gallant horse swept on and on, and it was not long until he was\nbounding over the enchanted moor. Wherever his hoofs struck the ground,\ngrass and flowers sprang up, and great trees with leafy branches rose on\nevery side.\n\nAt last the knight reached the little hut. Three times he struck the\nshield with the haft and three times with the blade of his spear. At the\nlast blow the hut disappeared, and standing before him was the little\nPrincess.\n\nThe knight took her in his arms and kissed her; then he lifted her on to\nthe horse, and, leaping up before her, he turned toward the north, to\nthe palace of the Red Branch Knights; and as they rode on beneath the\nleafy trees, from every tree the birds sang out, for the spell of\ndeathly silence over the lonely moor was broken forever.\n\n[H] From \"The Golden Spear,\" by Edmund Leamy; used by permission of the\npublisher, Desmond Fitzgerald, New York.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STRAW OX\n\n_A Russian Tale_\n\n\nAn old man and an old woman lived in an old house on the edge of the\nforest. The old man worked in the field all day and the woman spun flax.\nBut for all of their hard work they were very poor--never one penny\ncould they save. One day the old man said to the old woman:\n\n\"I would like to give you something to please you, but I have nothing to\ngive.\"\n\n\"Never mind that,\" said the old woman, \"make me a straw ox.\"\n\n\"A straw ox!\" cried the old man. \"What will you do with that?\"\n\n\"Never mind that,\" said the old woman.\n\nSo the old man made a straw ox.\n\n\"Smear it all over with tar,\" said the old woman.\n\n\"Why should I smear it with tar?\" asked the old man.\n\n\"Never mind that,\" said the old woman.\n\nSo the old man smeared the straw ox all over with tar.\n\nThe next morning when the old woman went out into the field to gather\nflax she took the straw ox with her and left it standing alone near the\nedge of the forest.\n\nA bear came out of the woods, and said to the ox: \"Who are you?\"\n\n \"I am an ox all smeared with tar,\n And filled with straw, as oxen are,\"\n\nreplied the ox.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the bear. \"I need some straw to mend my coat, and the tar\nwill keep it in place. Give me some straw and some tar.\"\n\n\"Help yourself,\" said the ox.\n\nSo the bear began to tear at the ox, and his great paws stuck fast, and\nhe pulled and he tugged, and he tugged and he pulled, and the more he\npulled and tugged, the faster he stuck, and he could not get away.\n\nThen the ox dragged the bear to the old house on the edge of the forest.\n\nWhen the old woman came back with her apron full of flax and saw that\nthe straw ox had gone she ran home as fast as she could. There stood the\nox with the bear stuck fast to him.\n\n\"Husband, husband! Come here at once,\" she cried. \"The ox has brought\nhome a bear; what shall we do?\"\n\nSo the old man came as fast as he could, pulled the bear off the ox,\ntied him up, and threw him into the cellar.\n\nThe next morning when the old woman went into the field to gather flax\nshe again took the straw ox with her, and again she left him standing\nalone near the edge of the forest.\n\nA wolf came out of the woods, and said to the ox: \"Who are you?\"\n\n \"I am an ox all smeared with tar,\n And filled with straw, as oxen are,\"\n\nreplied the ox.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the wolf, \"I need some tar to smear my coat so that the dogs\ncannot catch me.\"\n\n\"Help yourself,\" said the ox.\n\nThe wolf put up his paws to take the tar and his paws stuck fast. He\npulled and he tugged, and he tugged and he pulled, and the more he\npulled and tugged, the faster he stuck and he could not get away.\n\nThen the ox dragged the wolf to the old house on the edge of the forest.\n\nWhen the old woman came back with her apron full of flax and saw that\nthe straw ox had gone she ran home as fast as she could. There stood the\nox in the yard with the wolf stuck fast to him.\n\n [Illustration: \"THEN CAME THE FOX, WITH MANY GEESE RUNNING BEFORE\n HIM\"]\n\n\"Husband, husband! Come here at once!\" she cried. \"The ox has brought\nhome a wolf; what shall we do?\"\n\nSo the old man came as fast as he could, pulled the wolf off the ox,\ntied him up, and threw him into the cellar.\n\nThe next morning when the old woman went out into the field to gather\nflax she again took the straw ox with her, and again she left it\nstanding alone near the edge of the forest.\n\nA fox came out of the woods, and said to the ox: \"Who are you?\"\n\n \"I am an ox all smeared with tar,\n And filled with straw, as oxen are,\"\n\nreplied the ox.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the fox, \"I need some tar to smear my coat so that the dogs\ncannot catch me.\"\n\n\"Help yourself,\" said the ox.\n\nThe fox put up his paws to take the tar, and his paws stuck fast. He\npulled and he tugged, and he tugged and he pulled, and the more he\npulled and tugged, the faster he stuck, and he could not get away.\n\nThen the ox dragged the fox to the old house on the edge of the forest.\n\nWhen the old woman came back with her apron full of flax and saw that\nthe straw ox had gone she ran home as fast as she could. There stood the\nox with the fox stuck fast to him.\n\n\"Husband, husband! Come here at once!\" she cried. \"The ox has brought\nhome a fox; what shall we do?\"\n\nSo the old man came as fast as he could, pulled the fox off the ox, tied\nhim up, and threw him into the cellar.\n\nThe next morning when the woman came back with her apron full of flax\nand saw that the ox had gone and she had run home as fast as she could,\nthere stood the ox with a rabbit stuck fast to him.\n\nAnd the old man threw the rabbit into the cellar.\n\nThe next morning the old man said:\n\n\"Now we will see what will come of all of this.\"\n\nSo he took his knife and sat down by the cellar door and began to make\nthe knife sharp and bright.\n\n\"What are you doing, old man?\" asked the bear.\n\n\"I am making my knife sharp and bright so as to cut up your coat and\nmake a nice warm jacket for the old woman to keep her warm this winter.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the bear. \"Do not cut up my coat. Let me go, and I will bring\nyou some nice, sweet honey to eat.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, \"see to it that you do.\"\n\nSo the old man let the bear go.\n\nThen he sat down again and began to make his knife sharp and bright.\n\n\"What are you doing, old man?\" asked the wolf.\n\n\"I am making my knife sharp and bright so as to cut up your coat to make\nme a fine fur cap,\" said the old man.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the wolf. \"Do not cut up my coat. Let me go and I will bring\nyou some sheep.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, \"see to it that you do.\"\n\nSo the old man let the wolf go.\n\nThen he sat down again with his knife in his hand.\n\n\"What are you doing, old man?\" asked the fox.\n\n\"I am making my knife sharp and bright so as to cut up your coat to make\nme a nice fur collar.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the fox, \"do not cut up my coat. Let me go and I will bring\nyou some geese.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, \"see to it that you do.\"\n\nAnd in the same way he let the rabbit loose, who said that he would\nbring some cabbage and some turnips and some carrots.\n\nThe next morning early the old woman woke up and said:\n\n\"Some one is knocking at the door.\"\n\nSo the old man got up and went to the door and opened it.\n\n\"See,\" said the bear, \"I have brought you a jar full of honey.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, and he gave the jar to the old woman who\nput it on the shelf.\n\nThen came the wolf driving a flock of sheep into the yard.\n\n\"See,\" said the wolf, \"I have brought you a flock of sheep.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, and he drove the sheep into the pasture.\n\nThen came the fox, with many geese running before him, and the old man\ndrove them into the pen; and then came the rabbit with cabbages and\nturnips and carrots and other good things, and the old woman took them\nand put them into the pot and cooked them.\n\nAnd the old man said to the old woman, \"Now we have sheep in the pasture\nand many geese in the pen, and we are rich, and I can give you something\nto please you.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE PRINCESS OF THE FEARLESS HEART\n\nBY B. J. DASKAM\n\n\nOnce upon a time the great, yellow stork carried a baby Princess to the\nQueen of that country which lies next to fairy-land.\n\nAll throughout the kingdom the bells rang, the people shouted, and the\nKing declared a holiday for a whole year. But the Queen was very\nanxious, for she knew that the fairies are a queer lot, and their\nborders were very close indeed.\n\n\"We must be very careful to slight none of them at the christening,\" she\nsaid, \"for goodness knows what they might do, if we did!\"\n\nSo the wise-men drew up the lists, and when the day for the christening\narrived, the fairies were all there, and everything went as smoothly as\na frosted cake.\n\nBut the Queen said to the Lady-in-waiting:\n\n\"The first fairy godmother gave her nothing but a kiss! I don't call\nthat much of a gift!\"\n\n\"'Sh!\" whispered the Lady-in-waiting. \"The fairies hear everything!\"\n\nAnd indeed, the fairy heard her well enough, and very angry she was\nabout it, too. For she was so old that she knew all about it, from\nbeginning to end, and she was sure that the Wizard with Three Dragons\nwas sitting in the Black Forest, watching the whole matter in his\ncrystal globe. So she had whispered her gift--which was nothing more nor\nless than a Fearless Heart--into the ear of the Little Princess. But the\nQueen thought she had only kissed her.\n\nSo, when the clock was on the hour of four (which, as every one knows,\nis the end of christenings and fairy gifts) the first godmother went up\nto the golden cradle.\n\n\"Since my first gift was not satisfactory to every one,\" she said,\nangrily, \"I will give the Little Princess another. And that is, that\nwhen the time comes she shall marry the Prince of the Black Heart!\"\n\nThen the clock struck four, while the Queen wept on the bosom of the\nLady-in-waiting.\n\nAnd that was the end of the christening.\n\nThen the King called the wise-men together, and for forty days and\nnights they read the books and studied the stars.\n\nIn the end, they laid out a Garden, with a wall so high that the sun\ncould not shine over it until noon, and so broad that it was a day's\njourney for a swift horse to cross it. One tiny door there was: but the\nfirst gate was of iron, and five-and-twenty men-at-arms stood before it,\nday and night, with drawn swords; the second gate was of beaten copper,\nand before that were fifty archers, with arrows on the string; the third\ngate was of triple brass, and before it a hundred knights, in full\narmor, rode without ceasing.\n\nInto the Garden went the Little Princess, and the Queen, and all her\nladies; but no man might pass the gates, save the King himself. And\nthere the Princess dwelt until her seventeenth birthday, without seeing\nany more of the world than the inside of the wall.\n\nNow it happened that, some time before, a young Prince had ridden out of\nthe west and set about his travels. For the wise-man on the hill had\ncome to him and said:\n\n\"In the kingdom which lies next to fairyland dwells a Little Princess\nwho has a Fearless Heart. There is a wall which will not be easy to\nclimb, but the Princess is more beautiful than anything else in the\nworld!\"\n\nAnd that was enough for the Prince, so he girded on his sword, and set\nout, singing as he went for pure lightness of heart.\n\nBut it is not so easy to find fairyland as it is to eat a ripe apple,\nand the Prince could have told you that, before he was through. For in\nsome places it is so broad that it takes in the whole world, and in\nothers so narrow that a flea could cross it in two jumps. So that some\npeople never leave it all their lives long, but others cross at a single\nstep, and never see it at all.\n\nFinally, the Prince came to the place where all roads meet, and they\nwere as much alike as the hairs on a dog's back. But it was all one to\nhim, so he rode straight ahead and lost himself in fairyland.\n\nWhen the first fairy godmother saw him, she laughed to herself and flew\naway, straight over his head, to the wall around the Garden. But you may\nbe sure that she did not trouble the guards at the triple gates: for, if\none has wings, what is the use of stairs? So over the wall she flew to\nthe room where the Little Princess lay sleeping.\n\nYou may readily believe that the Princess was astonished when she awoke\nto find the fairy beside her bed, but she was not in the least alarmed,\nfor, you see, she did not know that there was anything in the world to\nbe afraid of.\n\n\"My dear,\" said the old lady, \"I am your first fairy godmother.\"\n\n\"How do you do, Godmother?\" said the Princess, and she sat up in bed and\ncourtesied. Which is a very difficult trick, indeed, and it is not every\nPrincess who can do it.\n\nHer godmother was so delighted that she leaned over and kissed her.\n\n\"That is the second time I have kissed you,\" she said. \"When I go, I\nwill kiss you again, and you had better save the three of them, for they\nwill be useful when you go out into the world. And, my dear, it is high\ntime that you were going out.\"\n\nThen the Little Princess was overjoyed, but she only nodded her head\nwisely and said:\n\n\"I know, the world is as big as the whole Garden, and wider than the\nwall. But I can never go out, for the gates are always locked.\"\n\n\"If you do not go now,\" said the fairy, \"you will have to go later, and\nthat might not be so well. And you should not argue with me, for I am\nolder than you will ever be, and your godmother, besides. Now kiss me,\nfor I must be going.\"\n\nSo she flew away, about her other affairs, for she was a very busy old\nlady indeed.\n\nIn the morning the Princess went to breakfast with the King and the\nQueen.\n\n\"Mother,\" she said, \"it is high time that I went out into the world!\"\n\nThe Queen was so startled that she dropped her egg on the floor and the\nKing was red as a beet with anger.\n\n\"Tut! Tut!\" he shouted. \"What nonsense is this?\"\n\n\"My fairy godmother was here last night,\" said the Princess, \"and she\ntold me all about it. I will go this morning, please, if I may.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" roared the King.\n\n\"You will do no such thing!\" wailed the Queen.\n\n\"There could have been no one here,\" said the King, \"for the gates were\nall locked.\"\n\n\"Who told you that you had a fairy godmother?\" asked the Queen.\n\nAnd there was an end of that.\n\nBut that night, after the Princess had said her prayers and crept into\nbed, she heard her godmother calling to her from the Garden, so she\nslipped on her cloak and stole out into the moonlight. There was no one\nto be seen, so she pattered along in her little bare feet until she came\nto the gate in the wall.\n\nWhile she was hesitating whether or not to run back to her little white\nbed, the gates of triple brass opened as easily as if her godmother had\noiled them, and the Little Princess passed through the copper gates, and\nthe iron gate, and out into fairyland.\n\nBut if you ask me why she saw the guards at the gates no more than they\nsaw her, I can only tell you that I do not know, and you will have to be\nsatisfied with that.\n\nAs for the Princess, she was as happy as a duck in a puddle. As she\ndanced along through the forests, the flowers broke from their stems to\njoin her, the trees dropped golden fruit into her very hands, and the\nlittle brook which runs through fairyland left its course, and followed\nher, singing.\n\nAnd all the while, her godmother was coming down behind her, close at\nhand, to see that she came to no harm; but the Princess did not know\nthat.\n\nAt last she came to the place where the Prince from the west lay\nsleeping. He was dreaming that he had climbed the wall and had found\nthe Princess, so that he smiled in his sleep and she knelt above him,\nwondering, for she had never seen a man before, save her father, the\nKing, and the Prince was very fair. So she bent closer and closer, until\nher breath was on his cheek, and as he opened his eyes, she kissed him.\n\nAs for the Prince, he thought that he was still asleep, till he saw that\nshe was many times more beautiful than in his dreams, and he knew that\nhe had found her at last.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS AND THE FAIRY]\n\n\"You are more beautiful than anything else in the world,\" he said, \"and\nI love you better than my life!\"\n\n\"And I love you with all my heart!\" said the Little Princess.\n\n\"Will you marry me,\" asked the Prince, \"and live with me forever and\never?\"\n\n\"That I will,\" said the Princess, \"and gladly, if my father, the King,\nand my mother, the Queen, will let me leave the Garden.\"\n\nAnd she told the Prince all about the wall with the triple gates.\n\nThe Prince saw that it would be no easy task to win the consent of the\nKing and the Queen, so nothing would do but that he must travel back to\nthe west and return with a proper retinue behind him.\n\nSo he bade the Princess good-by and rode bravely off toward the west.\n\nThe Princess went slowly back through fairyland, till she came to the\nwall, just as the sun was breaking in the east. As every one knows,\nWhite Magic is not of very much use in the daytime, outside of\nfairyland, and if you ask why this is not so at christenings, I will\nsend you to Peter Knowall, who keeps the Big Red Book.\n\nSo the guards at the triple gates saw the Princess, and they raised such\na hub-bub, that the King and the Queen rushed out to see what all the\nnoise was about. You can easily believe that they were in a great way\nwhen they saw the Little Princess, who they thought was safe asleep in\nher bed.\n\nThey lost no time in bundling her through the gates, and then they fell\nto kissing her, and scolding her, and shaking her, and hugging her, all\nin the same breath.\n\nBut the Princess said, \"I have been out into the world, and I am going\nto marry the Prince!\"\n\nThen perhaps there was not a great to-do about the Garden!\n\nThey bullied and coaxed and scolded and wept, but the Princess only\nsaid,\n\n\"I love him with all my heart and when the time comes I will go to him,\nif I have to beg my way from door to door!\"\n\nAt that the King flew into a towering rage.\n\n\"Very well, Miss!\" he shouted. \"But when you go, you may stay forever! I\nwill cut your name off the records, and any one who speaks it will be\nbeheaded, if it is the High Lord Chancellor, himself!\"\n\nThen it was the turn of the Princess to weep, for she loved her parents\ndearly, but she could not promise to forget the Prince.\n\nSo matters went from pence to ha'pennies, as the saying goes, till\nfinally the Princess could bear it no longer, so she found her cloak and\nstole down to the triple gates.\n\nEverything went very much as it had before, save that there was no\nPrince asleep under the tree where she had first found him. Then the\nPrincess would have turned back, but the little brook which followed at\nher heel had swollen out into a broad, deep river, and there was nothing\nto do but go ahead, till she came to a cottage among the trees, and\nbefore the door sat an old, old woman, spinning gold thread out of\nmoonlight. And by that any one could have told that she was a fairy, but\nthe Princess thought it was always done that way in the world.\n\n\"Oh, Mother,\" she cried, \"how shall I find my way out of the forest?\"\n\nBut the old woman went on spinning, and the Princess thought that she\nhad never seen anything fly so fast as the shuttle.\n\n\"Where were you wanting to go?\" she asked.\n\n\"I am searching for the Prince from the west,\" said the Princess sadly.\n\"Can you tell me where to find him?\"\n\nThe fairy shook her head and went on with her spinning, so fast that you\ncould not see the shuttle at all.\n\nBut the Princess begged so prettily that finally she said,\n\n\"If I were looking for a Prince, I would follow my nose until I came to\nthe Black Forest, and then I would ask the Wizard with Three Dragons,\nwho knows all about it, and more, too! That is, unless I thought that I\nwould be afraid in the Black Forest.\"\n\n\"What is afraid?\" asked the Little Princess. \"I do not know that.\"\n\nAnd no more she did, so the fairy laughed, for she saw trouble coming\nfor the Wizard. She stopped her wheel with a click, but for all her fast\nspinning, there was only enough gold thread to go around the second\nfinger of the Princess's left hand.\n\nAs for the Princess, she thanked the old lady very kindly, and set\nbravely off toward the Black Forest.\n\nBut the Wizard with Three Dragons only laughed as he gazed into his\ncrystal globe, for in it he could see everything that was happening in\nany place in the world, and I do not need Jacob Wise-man to tell me that\na globe like that is worth having!\n\nNow, when the Prince had left the Princess in fairyland, he lost no time\nin riding back to the west. The old King, his father, was overjoyed when\nhe heard of the Little Princess, and he gave the Prince a retinue that\nstretched for a mile behind him.\n\n [Illustration: THE WIZARD WITH THE THREE DRAGONS, AND HIS CRYSTAL\n GLOBE]\n\nBut when they came to the place where all roads meet, the Prince was\ngreatly perplexed, for this time, you see, he knew where he wanted to\ngo. In the end, he trusted to chance and rode ahead, but they had not\ngone far before they came to the castle of the Wizard with Three\nDragons, in the middle of the Black Forest.\n\nIn the great hall sat the Wizard, himself, waiting for them, and he was\nas soft as butter.\n\nYes, yes, he knew the Princess well enough, but it was too late to go\nfurther that night. So the Prince and all his train had best come into\nthe castle and wait till morning.\n\nThat was what the Wizard said, and the Prince was glad enough to listen\nto him, for he was beginning to fear that he would never find the\nPrincess again. But hardly had the last bowman come within the doors\nthan the Wizard blew upon his crystal globe, and muttered a spell.\n\nAt that, the Prince and his entire train were changed to solid stone, in\nthe twinkling of an eye, and there they remained till, at the proper\ntime, the Little Princess of the Fearless Heart came up the great stone\nsteps of the castle.\n\nThe Wizard was sitting on his throne with his Dragons behind his\nshoulder, staring into his crystal globe as it spun in the air, hanging\non nothing at all.\n\nHe never took his eyes away when the Princess came up to the throne, and\nshe was far too polite to interrupt him when he was so busy. So for a\nlong, long time she stood there waiting, and the Wizard chuckled to\nhimself, for he thought that she was too frightened to speak. So he\nbreathed upon his crystal globe and muttered a spell.\n\nBut of course, nothing happened, for the Little Princess had a Fearless\nHeart!\n\nThen the Wizard grew black as night, for he saw that the matter was not\nso easy as plucking wild flowers, so he turned away from the crystal\nglobe and stared at the Princess. His eyes burned like two hot coals,\nso that she drew her cloak closer about her, but you cannot hide your\nheart from a Wizard with Three Dragons, unless your cloak is woven of\nsunlight, and the Little Black Dwarf has the only one of those in the\nwhole world, stowed away in an old chest in the garret.\n\nSo the Wizard saw at once that the Little Princess had a Fearless Heart,\nand his voice was soft as rain-water.\n\n\"Oh, Little Princess,\" he said. \"What is it that you want of me in the\nBlack Forest?\"\n\n\"I am looking for the Prince from the west,\" said the Princess, eagerly.\n\"Can you tell me where to find him?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Wizard. \"I can tell you that, and perhaps some other\nthings, besides. But what will you give me for my trouble?\"\n\nThen the Little Princess hung her head, for she had nothing about her\nthat was worth so much as a bone button, and the Wizard knew that as\nwell as you and I. So he said, very softly, \"Will you give me your\nFearless Heart?\"\n\nAnd there was the whole matter in a nutshell!\n\nBut the Princess stamped her foot on the stone floor. \"Of course I will\nnot give you my heart,\" she said. \"And if you will not tell me for\nkindness, I will be going on, for I have nothing with which to pay you!\"\n\n\"Not so fast!\" cried the Wizard--for he was as wise as a rat in a\nlibrary--\"If you will not give me your heart, just let me have a kiss\nand I will call it a bargain!\"\n\nThen the Princess remembered her godmother's three kisses, and she\nthought that this was the place for them, if they were ever to be used\nat all, although she liked the thought of kissing the Wizard about as\nmuch as she liked sour wine. She crept up to the throne, and, with her\neyes tight closed, gave the Wizard the first of the three kisses.\n\nAt that the whole Black Forest shook with the force of the Magic,\nhissing through the trees, and the Wizard, with his Three Dragons turned\ninto solid stone!\n\nThe crystal globe spun around in the air, humming like a hive full of\nbees and sank slowly to the foot of the throne.\n\nHardly had it touched the ground than the whole castle rent and split\ninto a thousand pieces, and I would not like to have been there, unless\nI had a bit of gold thread spun out of moonlight around my finger, for\nthe huge rocks were falling as thick as peas in a pan!\n\nBut the Princess hardly noticed the rocks at all, for, as the sun rose\nover the Black Forest, she recognized the marble figure of the Prince,\nstanding among the ruins. You may be sure that she was heartbroken as\nshe went up to him, weeping very bitterly and calling and calling on his\nname. Then in her sorrow she reached up and kissed the cold stone face\nwith the second magic kiss.\n\nThen suddenly she felt the marble grow soft and warm beneath her touch,\nand the Prince came back to life and took her in his arms.\n\nWhen he recognized the silent figures of his gay train, he was sad as\ndeath, and the Princess wept with him. But suddenly they saw an old, old\nwoman picking her way among the fallen stones.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Little Princess, \"that is the old woman whom I met in the\nforest, spinning!\"\n\nAt that the fairy laughed so hard that her hair tumbled down about her\nfeet, and it turned from gray to silver, and silver to gold. The years\nfell from her like a cloak, until she was more beautiful than the\nthought of man could conceive!\n\n\"Ah! I know you now!\" cried the Little Princess. \"You are my first fairy\ngodmother!\"\n\nAnd that was the way of it, so she kissed them both for pure joy. But\nwhen they asked her as to which of the stone figures should have the\nthird magic kiss, she shook her head,\n\n\"None of them at all!\" she said. \"But give me back that bit of gold\nthread, for you will have no further use for it.\"\n\nThen she stretched the thread between her two hands until it was so fine\nthat you could not see it at all, and laid it on the ground around the\nWizard and his Dragons, and tied a magic knot, just behind the crystal\nglobe.\n\n\"Now give the third kiss to the crystal globe,\" she said, \"and see what\nwill happen!\"\n\nSo the Little Princess kissed the globe, and from the place where her\nlips touched it, a stream of water trickled down. As it touched the feet\nof each statue, the marble softened to flesh and blood, and the breath\ncame back to it until all of the Prince's train were alive again; but as\nfor the Wizard, the water could not pass the gold thread, so there he\nsits until this day--unless some busybody has untied the magic knot.\nThen the fairy flew away, singing a low, happy song.\n\nWhen the Prince and the Princess came to the Garden, there was a wedding\nwhich lasted a month, and then they rode off toward the west.\n\nAfter they had gone, the Queen whispered to the Lady-in-waiting,\n\n\"You see what careful parents can do! The first fairy godmother was\nquite wrong about the Prince of the Black Heart!\"\n\nBut at that very moment, the Prince had bared his arm to pluck a\nwater-flower, as they rested beside the way.\n\n\"What is that black mark on your arm?\" asked the Princess.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Prince, laughing, \"that is just a scar I have borne from\nbirth. It is in the shape of a heart, and so, for a jest, my people call\nme the Prince of the Black Heart.\"\n\n\"Black Heart, indeed!\" cried the Little Princess, angrily.\n\nAnd that is the end of the story, for if you have no fear in your heart,\nblack magic is no such great thing after all.\n\nBut if any old fogy should wag his gray beard and say there is not a\nword of truth in it, you may be very sure that he came to fairyland at\nthe narrow place, and never saw it at all. So you may just smile at him,\nfor there is one thing, at least, that you know more about than he does!\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nMOPSA THE FAIRY\n\nRETOLD FROM JEAN INGELOW\n\n \"_For he that hath his own world\n Hath many worlds more._\"\n\n\nA boy, whom I knew very well, was once going through a meadow which was\nfull of buttercups. He sat down by an old hawthorn hedge which was\ncovered with blossoms, and took out a slice of plum-cake for his lunch.\nWhile the boy was eating, he observed that this hedge was very high\nand thick, and that there was a great hollow in the trunk of the old\nthorn-tree, and he heard a twittering as if there was a nest somewhere\ninside. So he thrust his head in, twisted himself around, and looked up.\nAfter getting used to the dim light in the hollow of the tree, he saw, a\ngood way above his head, a curious nest. It was about three times as\nlarge as a goldfinch's. Just then he thought he heard some little voices\ncry, \"Jack, Jack!\"\n\n\"I must get near,\" said the boy. So he began to wriggle and twist\nhimself up, and just as he reached the top three heads which had been\npeeking over the edge of the nest suddenly popped down again.\n\n\"Those heads had no beaks, and the things have no feathers,\" said Jack,\nas he stood on tip-toe and poked in one of his fingers.\n\nWhen he snatched one of them out of the nest, it gave a loud squeak, and\nJack was so frightened that he lost his footing, dropped it, and slipped\ndown himself. Luckily, he was not hurt, nor the \"thing\" either. It was\ncreeping about like an old baby, and had on a little frock and pinafore.\n\n\nTHE FAIRY BABY'S LUNCH\n\n\"It's a fairy!\" exclaimed Jack, \"and this must be a fairies' nest.\"\n\nThe young Fairy climbed up the side of the hollow and scrambled again\ninto her nest, and Jack followed. Upon which all the nestlings popped up\ntheir heads, and showing their pretty white teeth pointed at the slice\nof cake.\n\n\"It's a small piece, and I may not have anything more to eat for a long\ntime,\" said Jack; \"but your mouths are very small, so you shall each\nhave a piece.\"\n\nThe young fairies were a long time munching the cake, and before they\nhad finished it began to be rather dark, because a thunder-storm was\ncoming up. The wind rose and made the old tree rock, and creak, and\ntremble. The little Fairies were so frightened that they got out of the\nnest and crept into Jack's pockets.\n\nAfter the storm was over, Jack pulled one of the Fairies out of his\nwaistcoat pocket and said to her: \"It is time for supper. Where are we\ngoing to get it?\" Then in the light of the moon he looked at her very\nattentively. \"When I first saw you in the nest,\" said he, \"you had a\npinafore on, and now you have a smart little apron with lace around it.\"\n\n\"That is because I am much older now,\" said the Fairy. \"We never take\nsuch a long time to grow up as you do. Put me into your pocket again,\nand whistle as loudly as you can.\"\n\n\nTHE GREAT WHITE BIRD\n\nSo Jack whistled loudly; and suddenly without hearing anything, he felt\nsomething take hold of his legs and give him a jerk which hoisted him on\nto its back, where he sat astride. It was a large white bird, and\npresently he found that they were rising up through the trees and out\ninto the moonlight, with Jack on the bird's back and all the fairies in\nhis pockets.\n\n\"And so we are going to Fairy-land,\" exclaimed Jack; \"how delightful!\"\n\nAs the evening grew dark the great white bird began to light up. She did\nit in this way. First, one of her eyes began to beam with a beautiful\ngreen light, and then when it was as bright as a lamp, the other eye\nbegan to shine, and the light of that eye was red. So they sailed\nthrough the darkness, Jack reminding the bird once in a while that he\nwas very hungry.\n\n\nTO THE FAIR CITY\n\nThey were sailing over the ocean by this time, and there were boats and\nvessels. The great white bird hovered among them, making choice of one\nto take Jack and the Fairies up the wonderful river which leads to\nFairy-land. Finally she set him down in a beautiful little open boat,\nwith a great carved figure-head to it. The bird said: \"Lie down in the\nbottom of the boat and go to sleep. You will dream that you have some\nroast fowl, some new potatoes, and an apple pie. Mind you, don't eat too\nmuch in your dream, or you will be sorry for it when you wake.\" Jack\nput his arms around the neck of the bird and hugged her; then she spread\nher wings and sailed slowly away. Then Jack fell asleep in the rocking\nboat, and dreamed as the bird promised, and when he woke up he was not\nhungry any more!\n\n [Illustration: IT WAS A LARGE WHITE BIRD\n FROM A DRAWING BY HARRY ROUNTREE]\n\nMorning came, and the Fairies were still asleep in his pocket. The boat\nmoved on through the night, and now he found himself in the outlet of\nthe wonderful river, the shores of which were guarded, not by real\nsoldiers, but by rose-colored flamingoes.\n\nNow that he had fairies in his pockets, he could understand bird talk,\nand so he heard many wise words from the birds of that country which\nguided him on his way.\n\nIt was not long before he came to the city that was the capital. It was\na fair day, and the city square was full of white canopies, lined with\nsplendid flutings of pink. It was impossible to be sure whether they\nwere real tents, or gigantic mushrooms. Each one of the people who sold\nin these tents had a little high cap on his head shaped just like a\nbee-hive made of straw. In fact, Jack soon saw bees flying in and out,\nand it was evident that these folks had their honey made on the\npremises.\n\n\nTHE LITTLE OLD FAIRY WOMAN\n\nAfter Jack had visited the fairy city, he went back to the river. The\nwater was so delightfully clear that he thought he would have a swim, so\nhe took off his clothes and folded them very carefully so as not to hurt\nthe Fairies, and laid them beside a hay-cock. When he came out he saw a\nlittle old woman with spectacles on, knitting beside his clothes. She\nsmiled upon him pleasantly.\n\n\"I will give you some breakfast out of my basket,\" said she. So she took\nout a saucerful of honey, a roll of bread, and a cup of milk.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Jack, \"but I am not a beggar boy, so I can buy this\nbreakfast. You look very poor.\"\n\nIt seems that the old woman was very poor; in fact, she was a slave, and\non that very day they were about to sell her in the slave market in the\ncity square. So Jack went along into the city again with her, and when\nshe was put up for sale, he bought her from her cruel master, although\nit took a half-crown, the biggest piece of money that he had. His next\nlargest piece he gave to the little woman, and told her to buy some\nclothes with it. She came back to the boat where Jack was, with her\nhands empty, but her face full of satisfaction.\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL PURPLE ROBE\n\n\"Why, you have not bought any new clothes,\" said Jack.\n\n\"I have bought what I wanted,\" said the Fairy Woman; and she took out of\nher pocket a little tiny piece of purple ribbon, with a gold-colored\nsatin edge, and a very small tortoise-shell comb.\n\nShe took the piece of ribbon and pulled and pulled it until it was as\nlarge as a handkerchief. Then she pulled and pulled it again, and the\nsilk stretched until it nearly filled the boat. Next, the little old\nwoman pulled off her ragged gown and put on the silk. It was now a most\nbeautiful robe of purple, with a gold border, and it just fitted her.\nThen she took out the little tortoise-shell comb, pulled off her cap and\nthrew it into the river. As she combed her hair, it grew much longer and\nthicker, until it fell in waves all about her body. It all turned gold\ncolor, and she was so covered with it that you could not see one bit of\nher except her eyes, which peeped out and were very bright.\n\nThen she began to gather up her lovely locks and said: \"Master, look at\nme now!\" So she threw back the hair from her face, and it was a\nbeautiful young face, and she looked so happy that Jack was glad he had\nbought her with his half-crown.\n\n\nTHE MAGIC KISS\n\nThen instantly the little Fairies awoke and sprang out of Jack's\npockets. One of them had a green velvet cap and sword; the second had a\nwhite spangled robe, and lovely rubies and emeralds around her neck; but\nthe third one, who sat down on Jack's knee, had a white frock and a blue\nsash, was very little, and she had a face just like that of a sweet\nlittle child.\n\n\"How comes it that you are not like the others?\" asked Jack. She\nanswered: \"It is because you kissed me.\"\n\n\"Somehow,\" Jack explained to the former Fairy Slave, \"she was my\nfavorite.\"\n\n\"Then you will have to let her sit on your knee, master, sometimes,\" she\nexplained; \"and you must take special care of her, for she cannot now\ntake the same care of herself that others can. The love of a mortal\nworks changes indeed to the life of a fairy.\"\n\n\"I don't want to have a slave,\" said Jack to the little lady. \"Can't you\nfind some way to be wholly free again?\"\n\n\"Yes, master, I can be free if you can think of anything that you really\nlike better than the half-crown that you paid for me.\"\n\n\"I would like going up this river to Fairy-land much better,\" said\nJack. So suddenly the river became full of thousands of little people\ncoming down the stream in rafts. They had come to take the Fairy Woman\naway with them.\n\n\nTHE FAIRY WOMAN'S PARTING GIFT\n\n\"What gift may I give you before I go?\" she asked.\n\n\"I should like,\" said Jack, \"to have a little tiny bit of that purple\ngown of yours with the gold border.\"\n\nSo she told Jack to lend her his knife, and with it she cut off a very\nsmall piece of the skirt of her robe and gave it to him. \"Now I advise\nyou,\" she said, \"never to stretch this unless you want to make something\nparticular out of it.\"\n\n\"Will ye step aboard, my dearest?\" sang the Fairy Woman as she sailed\naway.\n\n \"Will ye step aboard, my dearest? for the high seas lie\n before us.\n So I sailed adown the river in those days without alloy.\n We are launched! But when, I wonder, shall a sweeter sound\n float o'er us\n Than yon 'pull'e haul'e, pull'e haul'e, yoy! heave, hoy!'\"\n\nAll Jack had to do to make his magic boat go wherever he wished was to\ngive it a command, so he ordered it to float up the river to Fairy-land.\n\nIt was not long before the towers of the castle of the Queen of\nFairy-land could be seen in the distance; and soon the castle, with its\nbeautiful gardens, was close beside them along the river bank. But Jack\ndid not dare to enter the castle until he was sure of a shelter of his\nown. So he pulled and pulled at the piece of purple silk, until it\nbecame large enough to make a splendid canopy like a tent. It roofed in\nall the after-part of the boat, so now he had a delightful little home\nof his own, and there was no fear of its being blown away, for no wind\never blows in Fairy-land.\n\n\nTO THE PALACE\n\nWhen the Fairy Woman went back to her people she took all of the fairy\nchildren with her, and left only Mopsa with Jack. Now, Jack carefully\nwashed her face, and put a beautiful clean white frock on her.\n\n\"We will go into the Queen's palace together,\" said he.\n\nThe Queen greeted Mopsa and Jack very kindly; and every day they went up\nto the palace, and every night back again to the tent on the little\nboat.\n\nOne song which they liked to sing made Jack rather uncomfortable:\n\n \"And all the knights shall woo again,\n And all the doves shall coo again,\n And all the dreams come true again,\n And Jack shall go home.\"\n\nEvery evening Jack noticed that Mopsa was a little taller, and had\ngrown-up to a higher button on his coat. She looked much wiser, too.\n\"You must learn to read,\" said he; and as she made no objection, he\narranged daisies and buttercups into the forms of the letters, and she\nlearned nearly all of them in one evening, while crowds of the fairies\nfrom the castle looked on, hanging from the boughs and shouting out the\nnames of the letters as Mopsa said them. They were very polite to Jack,\nfor they gathered up all the flowers for him, and emptied them from\ntheir little caps at his feet as fast as he wanted them.\n\n\nMOPSA IS TO BE A QUEEN\n\nNow it seems that as soon as Mopsa was full grown she was destined to be\nQueen herself. One day, just before dusk, she said to Jack: \"Jack, will\nyou give me your little purse that has the silver fourpence in it?\"\n\nNow this purse was lined with a nice piece of pale green silk; and when\nJack gave it to her, she pulled the silk out and stretched it, just as\nthe fairy woman had done, and it became a most lovely cloak. Then she\ntwisted up her long hair into a coil, fastened it around her head, and\ncalled to the fireflies, which were beginning to glitter on the trees;\nand they came and alighted in a row upon the coil, and turned into\ndiamonds directly! So now Mopsa had a crown and a robe. She was so\nbeautiful that Jack thought he would never be tired of looking at her.\n\nThe next morning Jack found that his fairy boat had floated away. He\ncalled to it, but it would not return. \"Never mind,\" said Mopsa, \"my\ncountry is still waiting for me beyond the purple mountains. I shall\nnever be happy unless we go there, and we can go together on foot.\"\n\nSo they walked toward the purple mountains hand-in-hand. When night\ncame, and they were too tired to walk any further, the shooting stars\nbegan to appear in all directions; and at Mopsa's command they brought a\nlittle cushion, and Jack and Mopsa sat upon it, and the stars carried\nthe two over the paths of the mountains and half-way down the other\nside. When they awoke the next morning, there spread before them the\nloveliest garden one ever saw, and among the trees and woods was a most\nbeautiful castle.\n\n [Illustration: QUEEN MOPSA FLIES TO HER KINGDOM\n FROM A DRAWING BY FLORENCE MARY ANDERSON]\n\n\"Oh, Jack!\" said Mopsa, \"I am sure that castle is the place I am to live\nin. I shall soon be Queen and there I shall reign.\"\n\n\"And I shall be King there,\" said Jack. \"Shall I?\"\n\n\"Yes, if you can,\" answered Mopsa; \"and in Fairy-land, of course,\nwhatever you can do, you may do.\"\n\nIt was a long way to the castle; and at last Jack and Mopsa were so\ntired that they sat down, and Mopsa began to cry.\n\n\"Remember,\" said Jack, \"that you are nearly a Queen, and you can never\nreach your castle by sitting still.\"\n\nAll of a sudden they heard the sweetest sound in the world; it was the\ncastle clock, and it was striking twelve at noon. As it finished\nstriking, they came out at the farther edge of a great bed of reeds,\nand here was the castle straight before them.\n\nInside the castle lived a lovely lady, and when she saw Mopsa she took\nher to her arms. \"Who are you?\" asked the lovely lady.\n\n\"I am a Queen,\" said Mopsa.\n\n\"Yes, my sweet Queen,\" answered the lady, \"I know you are.\"\n\n\"Do you promise that you will be kind to me until I grow up?\" inquired\nMopsa. \"Will you love me and teach me how to reign? I am only ten years\nold, and the throne is too big for me to sit upon, but I am Queen.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the lady, \"and I will love you just as if I were your\nmother.\"\n\n\nQUEEN MOPSA\n\nWhen Mopsa ran through the castle door it shut suddenly behind her, and\nJack was left behind. After great difficulty he succeeded in climbing\nthe walls, and crept through a window; and when he got inside he saw a\nvery wonderful sight. There was Mopsa in the great audience-room,\ndressed superbly in a white satin gown, with a long train of crimson\nvelvet, which was glittering with diamonds. It reached almost from one\nend of the gallery to the other, and had hundreds of fairies to hold it\nto keep it in its place; but in her hair were no jewels, only a little\ncrown made of daisies, and on her shoulders her robe was fastened with a\nlittle golden image of a boat. These things were to show the land she\nhad come from and the vessel she had come in. At one side of Mopsa stood\nthe lovely lady; and on the other, to Jack's amazement, a little boy of\nhis own size, who looked exactly like himself.\n\n\"I will go in,\" said Jack. \"There is nothing to prevent me.\" He set his\nfoot on the step, and while he hesitated Mopsa came out to meet him. He\nlooked at her earnestly, because her lovely eyes were not looking at\nhim, but far away toward the west.\n\n\"Jack lives there,\" she said, as if speaking to herself. \"He will play\nthere again, in his father's garden.\"\n\nThen she brought her eyes down slowly from the rose-flush in the cloud\nand looked at him and said, \"Jack.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Jack, \"here I am. What is it that you wish to say?\"\n\nShe answered, \"I am come to give you back your kiss.\"\n\n\nGOOD-BY TO MOPSA\n\nSo she stooped forward as she stood on her step and kissed him, and her\ntears fell on his cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" she said; and she turned and went up the steps into the\ngreat hall. Jack gazed at her as she entered, and would fain have\nfollowed, but could not stir, the great doors closed together again, and\nhe was left outside. Then he knew, without having been told, that he\nshould never enter them any more.\n\nSuddenly he perceived that reeds were growing up between him and the\ngreat doors, and he walked on among them toward the west. Then, as the\nrosy sky turned gold color, all on a sudden he came to the edge of the\nreed-bed and walked out upon a rising ground. Jack ran up it, looking\nfor the castle. At last he saw it, lying so far, so very far off that\nall its clear outlines were lost; and very soon, as it grew dark, they\nseemed to mingle with the shapes of the hill and the forest.\n\nHe looked up into the rosy sky, and held out his arms, and called:\n\"Come! Oh, come!\" In a minute or two he saw a little black mark\noverhead, a small speck, that grew larger and larger. In another instant\nhe saw a red light and a green light; then he heard the winnowing noise\nof a bird's great wings, and suddenly the great white bird alighted at\nhis feet and said: \"Here I am.\"\n\n\"I wish to go home,\" said Jack.\n\n\"That is well,\" answered the bird.\n\nAs Jack flew through the darkness he thought once again of the little\nboy who looked just like himself, who lived in the far castle; and he\ndid not feel sure whether he himself was upon the back of the bird or\nwithin the castle with Queen Mopsa. Then he fell asleep, and did not\ndream at all, nor know anything more until the great bird woke him.\n\n\"Wake up, now, Jack,\" she said, \"we are at home.\"\n\nAs they flew toward the earth Jack saw the church, and the wood, and his\nfather's house, which seemed to be starting up to meet him. In two\nseconds he stepped down into the deep grass of his father's meadow.\n\n\"Good-by,\" said the great bird. \"Make haste and run in, for the dews are\nfalling.\" And before he could ask her one question, or even thank her,\nshe made a wide sweep over the grass, beat her magnificent wings and\nsoared away.\n\n\nJACK COMES HOME\n\nJack opened the little gate that led into the garden, stole through the\nshrubbery and came up to the drawing-room window and peeped in. His\nfather and mother were sitting there, his mother sat with her back to\nthe open window, but a candle was burning, and she was reading aloud\nabout a Shepherd Lady and a Lord.\n\nAt last his father noticed him, and beckoned him to come in. So Jack\ndid, and got upon his father's knee, and laid his head on his father's\nwaistcoat, and wondered what he would think if he should tell him about\nthe fairies that had been in somebody else's waistcoat pocket. He\nthought, besides, what a great thing a man is. He had never seen\nanything so large in Fairy-land, nor so important; so, on the whole, he\nwas glad that he had come back and felt very happy.\n\n\"I think,\" said his father, \"it must be time this man of ours was in\nbed.\"\n\nSo his mother kissed him good-night, and he went up into his own room\nand said his prayers. He got into his little white bed and comfortably\nfell asleep.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LINE OF GOLDEN LIGHT, OR THE LITTLE BLIND SISTER[I]\n\nBY ELIZABETH HARRISON\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a child whose name was Avilla; she was\nsweet and loving, and fair to look upon, with everything in the world to\nmake her happy--but she had a little blind sister, and Avilla could not\nbe perfectly happy as long as her sister's eyes were closed so that she\ncould not see God's beautiful world, nor enjoy His bright sunshine.\nLittle Avilla kept wondering if there was not something that she could\ndo which would open this blind sister's eyes.\n\nAt last, one day, she heard of an old, old woman, nobody knew how old,\nwho had lived for hundreds of years in a dark cave, not many miles away.\nThis queer, old woman knew a secret enchantment, by means of which the\nblind could receive their sight. The child Avilla asked her parents'\npermission to make a journey to the cave, in order that she might try to\npersuade the old woman to tell her this secret. \"Then,\" exclaimed she,\njoyfully, \"my dear sister need sit no longer in darkness.\" Her parents\ngave a somewhat unwilling consent, as they heard many strange and wicked\nstories about the old woman. At last, however, one fine spring morning,\nAvilla started on her journey. She had a long distance to walk, but the\nhappy thoughts in her heart made the time pass quickly, and the soft,\ncool breeze seemed to be whispering a song to her all the way.\n\nWhen she came to the mouth of the cave, it looked so dark and forbidding\nthat she almost feared to enter it, but the thought of her little blind\nsister gave her courage, and she walked in. At first she could see\nnothing, for all the sunshine was shut out by the frowning rocks that\nguarded the entrance. Soon, however, she discerned the old woman sitting\non a stone chair, spinning a pile of flax into a fine, fine thread. She\nseemed bent nearly double with age, and her face wore a look of worry\nand care, which made her appear older.\n\nThe child Avilla came close to her side, and thought, she is so aged\nthat she must be hard of hearing. The old woman did not turn her head,\nnor stop her spinning. Avilla waited a moment, and then took fresh\ncourage, and said, \"I have come to ask you if you will tell me how I can\ncure my blind sister?\" The strange creature turned and stared at her as\nif she were very much surprised; she then spoke in a deep, hollow voice,\nso hollow that it sounded as if she had not spoken for a very long time.\n\"Oh,\" said she with a sneer, \"I can tell you well enough, but you'll not\ndo it. People who can see, trouble themselves very little about those\nwho are blind!\" This last was said with a sigh, and then she scowled\nat Avilla until the child's heart began to beat very fast. But the\nthought of her little blind sister made her brave again, and she cried\nout, \"Oh please tell me. I will do anything to help my dear sister!\" The\nold woman looked long and earnestly at her this time. She then stooped\ndown and searched in the heap of the fine-spun thread which lay at her\nside until she found the end of it. This she held out to the child,\nsaying, \"Take this and carry it all around the world, and when you have\ndone that, come to me and I will show you how your blind sister may be\ncured.\" Little Avilla thanked her and eagerly seized the tiny thread,\nand wrapping it carefully around her hand that she might not lose it,\nturned and hastened out of the close, damp cave.\n\n [Illustration: \"AVILLA RAN FORWARD AND CRIED: 'NOW GIVE SIGHT TO MY\n SISTER'\"]\n\nShe had not traveled far before she looked back to be sure the thread\nhad not broken, it was so thin. Imagine her surprise to see that instead\nof its being a gray thread of spun flax, it was a thread of golden\nlight, that glittered and shone in the sunlight, as if it were made of\nthe most precious stuff on earth. She felt sure now that it must be a\nmagic thread, and that it somehow would help her to cure her blind\nsister. So she hastened on, glad and happy.\n\nSoon, however, she approached a dark, dense forest. No ray of sunlight\nseemed ever to have fallen on the trunks of its trees. In the distance\nshe thought she could hear the growl of bears and the roar of lions. Her\nheart almost stopped beating. \"Oh, I can never go through that gloomy\nforest,\" said she to herself, and her eyes filled with tears. She turned\nto retrace her steps, when the soft breeze which still accompanied her\nwhispered: \"Look at the thread you have been carrying! Look at the\ngolden thread!\" She looked back, and the bright, tiny line of light\nseemed to be actually smiling at her, as it stretched across the soft\ngreensward, far into the distance, and, strange to say, each tiny blade\nof grass which it had touched, had blossomed into a flower. So, as the\nlittle girl looked back, she saw a flowery path with a glittering line\nof golden light running through it. \"How beautiful!\" she exclaimed. \"I\ndid not notice the flowers as I came along, but the enchanted thread\nwill make the next traveler see them.\"\n\nThis thought filled her with such joy that she pushed forward into the\ndark woods. Sometimes she knocked her head against a tree which stood in\nher way; sometimes she almost feared she was lost, but every now and\nthen she would look back and the sight of the tiny thread of golden\nlight always renewed her courage. Once in a while she felt quite sure\nthat she could see the nose of some wild beast poking out in front of\nher, but when she came nearer it proved to be the joint in a tree trunk,\nor some strange fungus which had grown on a low branch. Then she would\nlaugh at her own fear and go on. One of the wonderful things about the\nmysterious little thread which she carried in her hand was, that it\nseemed to open a path behind it, so that one could easily follow in her\nfootsteps without stumbling over fallen trees, or bumping against living\nones. Every now and then a gray squirrel would frisk by her in a\nfriendly fashion, as if to assure her that she was not alone, even in\nthe twilight of the dark woods. By and by she came to the part of the\nforest where the trees were less dense, and soon she was out in the glad\nsunshine again.\n\nBut now a new difficulty faced her. As far as she could see stretched a\nlow, swampy marsh of wet land. The mud and slime did not look very\ninviting, but the thought of her little blind sister came to her again,\nand she bravely plunged into the mire. The dirty, dripping mud clung to\nher dress and made her feet so heavy that she grew weary lifting them\nout of it. Sometimes she seemed to be stuck fast, and it was only with\na great effort that she could pull out, first one foot, and then the\nother. A lively green frog hopped along beside her, and seemed to say,\nin his funny, croaking voice, \"Never mind the mud, you'll soon be\nthrough it.\" When she had at last reached the end of the slippery,\nsticky marsh, and stood once more on firm ground, she looked back at the\ntiny thread of golden light which trailed along after her. What do you\nthink had happened? Wherever the mysterious and beautiful thread had\ntouched the mud, the water had dried up, and the earth had become firm\nand hard, so that any other person who might wish to cross the swampy\nplace could walk on firm ground. This made the child Avilla so happy\nthat she began to sing softly to herself.\n\nSoon, however, her singing ceased. As the day advanced, the air grew\nhotter and hotter. The trees had long ago disappeared, and now the grass\nbecame parched and dry, until at last she found herself in the midst of\na dreary desert. For miles and miles the scorching sand stretched on\nevery side. She could not even find a friendly rock in whose shadow she\nmight rest for a time. The blazing sun hurt her eyes and made her head\nache, and the hot sand burned her feet. Still she toiled on, cheered by\na swarm of yellow butterflies that fluttered just ahead of her. At last\nthe end of the desert was reached, just as the sun disappeared behind a\ncrimson cloud. Dusty and weary, the child Avilla was about to throw\nherself down on the ground to rest. As she did so, her eyes turned to\nlook once more at the golden thread which had trailed behind her all day\non the hot sand. Lo, and behold! What did she see? Tall shade trees had\nsprung up along the path she had traveled, and each tiny grain of sand\nthat the wonderful thread had touched was now changed into a diamond, or\nruby, or emerald, or some other precious stone. On one side the pathway\nacross the desert shone and glittered, while on the other the graceful\ntrees cast a cool and refreshing shade.\n\nLittle Avilla stood amazed as she looked at the beautiful trees and the\nsparkling gems. All feeling of weariness was gone. The air now seemed\nmild and refreshing, and she thought that she could hear in the distance\nsome birds singing their evening songs. One by one the bright stars came\nout in the quiet sky above her head, as if to keep guard while she slept\nthrough the night.\n\nThe next morning she started forward on her long journey round the\nworld. She traveled quite pleasantly for a while, thinking of how cool\nand shady the desert path would now be for any one who might have to\ntravel it, and of the precious jewels she had left for some one else to\ngather up. She could not stop for them herself, she was too anxious to\npress forward and finish her task, in order that her little blind sister\nmight the sooner see.\n\nAfter a time she came to some rough rocks tumbled about in great\nconfusion, as if angry giants had hurled them at each other. Soon the\npath grew steeper and steeper, and the rocks sharper and sharper, until\nthey cut her feet. Before her she could see nothing but more rocks until\nthey piled themselves into a great mountain, which frowned down upon\nher, as much as to say, \"How dare you attempt to climb to my summit?\"\nThe brave child hesitated. Just then two strong eagles with outspread\nwings rose from their nest of sticks on the side of a steep cliff near\nby, and soared majestically and slowly aloft. As they passed far above\nher head they uttered a loud cry which seemed to say, \"Be brave and\nstrong and you shall meet us at the mountain-top.\"\n\nSometimes the ragged edges of the rocks tore her dress, and sometimes\nthey caught the tiny golden thread, and tangled it so that she had to\nturn back and loosen it from their hold. The road was very steep and she\nwas compelled to sit down every few minutes and get her breath. Still\nshe climbed on, keeping the soaring eagles always in sight. As she\nneared the top, she turned and looked back at the enchanted thread\nof golden light which she had carried through all the long, strange\njourney. Another marvelous thing had happened! The rugged path of sharp,\nbroken rocks had changed into broad and beautiful white marble steps,\nover which trailed the shining thread of light. She knew that she had\nmade a pathway up this difficult mountain and her heart rejoiced.\n\nShe turned again to proceed on her journey, when, only a short distance\nin front of her, she saw the dark cave in which lived the strange old\nwoman who had bidden her carry the line of light around the world. She\nhastened forward, and on entering the cave, she saw the old creature,\nalmost bent double, still spinning the mysterious thread. Avilla ran\nforward and cried out, \"I have done all you told me to do, now give\nsight to my sister.\" The old woman sprang to her feet, seized the thread\nof golden light and exclaimed, \"At last! at last! I am freed! The spell\nhas now been broken.\"\n\nThen came so strange and wonderful a change that Avilla could hardly\nbelieve her own eyes. Instead of the ugly, cross-looking old crone,\nthere stood a beautiful princess, with long golden hair, and tender blue\neyes, her face radiant with joy. Her story was soon told. Hundreds of\nyears ago she had been changed into the bent old woman, and shut up in\nthe dark cave on the mountain-side, because she, a daughter of the King,\nhad been selfish and idle, thinking only of herself, and her punishment\nhad been that she must remain thus disguised and separated from all\ncompanions and friends until she could find someone who would be\ngenerous and brave enough to take the long, dangerous journey around the\nworld for the sake of others. Her mother had been a fairy princess and\nhad taught her many things which we mortals have yet to learn. She\nshowed the child Avilla how, by dipping the golden thread into a spring\nof ordinary water, she could change the water into golden water, which\nglittered and sparkled like liquid sunshine. Filling a pitcher with this\nthey hastened together to where the little blind sister sat in darkness\nwaiting for some one to come and lead her home. The beautiful princess\ntold Avilla to dip her hands into the bowl of enchanted water, and then\npress them upon the closed eyes of her sister. They opened! And the\nlittle blind girl could see!\n\nAfter that the fairy princess came and lived with little Avilla and her\nsister, and taught them how to do many wonderful things, of which I have\nnot time to tell you to-day.\n\n [I] From \"In Story-Land,\" by Elizabeth Harrison; used by\n permission of the publishers, the National Kindergarten and Elementary\n College, 2944 Michigan Boulevard, Chicago, Ill.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nA FAIRY STORY ABOUT A PHILOSOPHER'S STONE WHICH WAS LOST\n\nBY M. BOWLEY\n\n\nThe Mermaids and the Sea-gulls were collected in crowds upon the shore.\nThere was hardly a sound except the monotonous splash of little waves\nbreaking, and the rippling rattle of the shingle as it followed the\nwater returning. Thousands of eyes were fixed upon the piece of rocky\nland that jutted out into the sea, where the Philosopher's magnificent\ncastle stood, or _had_ stood, for there was now very little of it left.\nNo wonder the Mermaids and the Mer-babies and the Sea-gulls were\nastonished. Even the sea was speckled with fish who were putting their\nheads out of the water to watch. For the Philosopher's castle was fading\naway, melting like mist before the sun!\n\nThe Philosopher himself could be seen rushing about, tearing his\nscanty white hair. That was another equally astonishing thing, for only\nyesterday the Philosopher had been young and handsome, as well as the\nrichest and greatest man in all the land--so rich and great that he was\nto have married the Princess very soon.\n\nNow he was old and wild and gaunt. A tattered brown cloak with rents and\nholes in it hung from his thin shoulders, flapping as he ran about, and\nall his dingy dress was dirty and ragged. He looked like a wandering\npeddler. What had become of his many servants? Where were his horses and\nchariots, and the strange beasts from foreign lands which had wandered\nin the beautiful gardens--the gardens with the pavilions, where all the\nflowers had been in bloom for the Princess?\n\nThere was only one tower standing now, and the top of that was growing\nmore and more flimsy. Presently, through the walls, rooms could be seen.\nIn one of them there stood a golden cage, and in it was a Parrot.\n\nVery soon the bars of the cage were like cobwebs, and the Parrot began\nto tear them apart. Then he spread his wings with a joyful scream, and\nflew on to the rocks, above the heads of the crowds upon the shore.\n\nImmediately every one called a different question to the Parrot, who\nsmoothed his feathers and took no notice until, when the noise and\nexcitement were rather less, an old Sea-gull spoke for them all. Then\nthe new-comer consented to tell what he knew of the events of the day.\n\nIt was due, he said, to the Philosopher's having lost the Magic Stone.\nUpon this stone his youthful appearance, and everything that he owned,\nhad depended.\n\nEarly that morning a great tumult had suddenly arisen. The Philosopher\nwent out walking. Soon an old man had rushed in, crying that he had lost\nthe Magic Stone. He commanded every slave in the castle instantly to\nleave whatever work he was doing, and help to find it. At first no one\nheeded him, for they could not any of them be persuaded that he was\ntheir master. Then the confusion had grown rapidly worse, for each one\nfound he was fading away, growing every moment more pale and thin. As\nthe hours passed all the servants became white ghosts, and they floated\naway in companies together.\n\n [Illustration: \"EVERYONE CALLED A DIFFERENT QUESTION TO THE PARROT\"]\n\nThe furniture was melting now in the same manner. The tables were\nsinking down, and all the vessels used for cooking, and what not, were\nfalling softly and noiselessly upon the floors--where there were any\nfloors to hold them. Everything was blowing gently about, so that the\nair seemed filled with bits of cloud. Presently the remnants would be\nswept into the sea by the passing breezes.\n\n\"And how have you escaped?\" asked the Sea-gull.\n\nThe Parrot raised his crest and looked very much offended.\n\n\"Because _I_ am real,\" he said with dignity. \"I was the only real thing\nin the castle. The Philosopher stole me at the same time that he stole\nthe Magic Stone.\"\n\n\"Stole it?\" cried the Mermaids and the Mer-babies and the Sea-gulls.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Parrot; \"he stole it in a far-off land, and he stole me.\nI was to be a present to the Princess; for he thought of marrying the\nPrincess even at that time, and the Philosopher knew there was not in\nall the world another parrot like me.\"\n\nHe opened his wings and puffed up every feather. He certainly was a\nmagnificent creature. The grown-up Sea-gulls felt quite ashamed of their\nhomely dresses of black and white; but the young ones only gaped, and\ncrowded open-mouthed to the front to look.\n\nThe Parrot's snowy coat shaded different colors like opals when he\nmoved, and each feather was edged with gold. The crest upon his head\nsparkled as if there were diamonds in it, and under his wings he was\nrose-red.\n\n\"But I am free!\" he cried, as the diamonds glittered and flashed,--\"free\nto go home where the palm-trees grow, and the sun shines as it never\nshines in this chilly land! Look well at me while you can, for you will\nnever see me again.\"\n\nWith that he poised a moment above them, then sailed away to the South,\nlike a gorgeous monster butterfly. And they never did see him again.\n\nWhen they had watched him out of sight, and turned again, there was\nnothing remaining of the castle, and the Philosopher, too, had\ndisappeared. The sun was setting, and the Mermaids and the Mer-babies\nwent to their homes in the sea, while the Sea-gulls put their little\ngulls to bed in the nests among the rocks high above the restless\nwaves.\n\n * * *\n\nNow all the talk was of the Philosopher's Magic Stone, and who should\nfind it. And at court every one was discussing how this unexpected turn\nof events would affect the Princess's marriage. It was to have taken\nplace in a very short time. The King was very angry. He considered that\na slight had been cast upon the Princess and upon himself by the\ncarelessness of the Philosopher. He was not well pleased, either,\nto know that the great wealth of the man who was to have been his\nson-in-law was all due to magic influences. Neither did he like what\nhe heard of the Philosopher's appearance when last he was seen. He\nannounced that the Princess's wedding would take place at the time\nfixed, and that she should be married to the first Prince, or other\nsuitable candidate, who arrived on that day. And even the Philosopher\nmight take his chance of being the first, if he were then in a position\nto support the Princess in the luxury to which she had been accustomed.\n\n [Illustration: \"DO YOU THINK THE PHILOSOPHER WILL FIND THE STONE?\" SHE\n ASKED OF THE ELDEST LADY-IN-WAITING.]\n\nAs for the Princess herself, what did she think of it all? No one knew,\nfor she did not say. She sat at her palace window, and looked out over\nthe distant mountains, and dreamed of her wedding day.\n\n\"Do you think the Philosopher will find the Stone?\" she asked of the\nEldest Lady-in-Waiting, who was in attendance.\n\n\"We may well hope so, your Royal Highness,\" said the Eldest Lady. \"He is\na great man and wise. I hear, too, that he had been walking only a short\ndistance from the castle when he lost the Stone. It can hardly fail to\nbe found very soon.\"\n\nThe Princess sat still and looked over toward the mountains.\n\n\"Do you think the Philosopher will find the Stone?\" she asked presently\nof the Youngest and Favorite Lady-in-Waiting.\n\n\"Alas! your Royal Highness, I fear it is not likely,\" said the Favorite\nLady. \"All the Sea-people have been searching day and night, I hear, and\nnothing has been heard of it yet.\"\n\nThe Princess smiled. She still sat and smiled when the Favorite Lady\nwrapped a cloak about herself, and took a letter that lay by the\nPrincess's hand. Then, without permission or instruction, she set out\ntoward the mountains. The Princess rested her elbows on the\nwindow-ledge, and watched her out of sight, and perhaps wondered who\nwould be the earliest to arrive, and so fill the place of bridegroom, on\nher wedding-day.\n\nAnd all this time, as the Lady-in-Waiting had said, the Sea-people had\nbeen searching day and night.\n\nThe Mer-babies and the little Sea-gulls were quite neglected, and did\nno lessons; for every one was too busy to attend to them. They played\nabout and romped on the shore when they grew tired of hunting for the\nPhilosopher's Stone. The Sea-gulls had told the land-birds, who were\nsearching the woods and the fields, while the fresh-water fish knew of\nit from their relatives in the sea, and they were searching the lakes\nand the rivers. Then the Sea-gulls determined to consult the Great\nAlbatross of the Southern Seas, the King among all sea-fowl. They\narrived one sunny morning, and found him expecting them, for he had\nheard what had happened--in the first place from the Parrot, who had\npassed that way. So he was prepared with his answer. It did not satisfy\nthe Sea-gulls at all. They went away very much disappointed, for the\nAlbatross was in a bad temper, and said only:\n\n\"Go home and attend to the children.\"\n\nThey waited about until late, but he would say nothing more. So they\nwere obliged to return and confess their want of success to the\nMermaids, who sympathized with them, and agreed that it was very\nill-natured of the Albatross. They proposed to go to the Sea-serpent and\nask his advice, which the Sea-gulls thought a good plan. They set off at\nonce for the deep seas, where he lived, inquiring of the fish they met\nwhether any news had been heard. But the fish had nothing to tell, and\nthe Mermaids came to the Sea-serpent's home.\n\nHe was curled on his great rock throne, with giant seaweeds of all\ncolors waving round him, and the stars of the anemones gleaming out from\ndark corners.\n\n [Illustration: CONSULTING THE WISE WHITE BEAR]\n\nThe Sea-serpent listened to the request of the Mermaids; but they met\nwith no better luck than the Sea-gulls, for he said exactly the same:\n\"Go home and attend to the children.\"\n\nThen he retired into the great caves, and would not come out again.\n\nSo the Mermaids went home disconsolate. They began to think they might\nhave to give up the hope of finding the Magic Stone.\n\nOf course the Mer-babies heard all that was going on. They discussed\nthe situation, as usual. They did not mean to be left behind in this\nbusiness, though they were not considered to be of any consequence. It\nwas evidently correct to consult somebody who lived at a distance, and\nthey thought of the Wise White Bear. He was farther off, too, than\neither the Albatross or the Sea-serpent, for he lived at the north pole;\nbut when he was mentioned the very young Mer-babies for once suggested\nthat it was nearly bedtime, and they found that they were sleepy. Some\none whispered that the White Bear ate the poor seals, and the youngest\nMer-babies crept into holes in the rocks to rest, they said, while the\nlittle Sea-gulls went walking home, one behind the other, right across\nthe sands, without having been called. But the older Mer-babies set off\nfor the north pole.\n\nThey arrived home next morning, very tired and very cross. When the\nsleepy ones who had stayed behind asked what the Wise Bear had said,\nthey would not tell, and for the first time the Mer-babies quarreled.\nThey declared in the end that they would none of them look for the\n\"Philosopher's ugly Stone ever any more.\"\n\nSo if the Princess really wanted to marry the Philosopher, that day she\nlost some of her helpers. But no one knew what she wished, for she never\nmentioned him. She sat at her window that looked out over the mountains,\nand she gazed ever outward.\n\nIt was the night before her wedding. She had been there all day, and for\nmany days. It was very quiet, and the lamps were lighted. The Eldest\nLady-in-Waiting spread out the lovely robes, ready for the morrow, where\nthe Princess might see them; but she never moved nor spoke. As midnight\napproached she leaned out and let the soft wind blow upon her face.\n\nThe hour of midnight was striking from all the belfries, when a great\nclatter sounded down below in the courtyard. Horses neighed, and men ran\nabout. The Princess leaned more forward, and listened. Then a horseman,\nwhose jewels sparkled in the moonlight, looked up and kissed a hand to\nher, and she kissed hers to him. It was one minute past midnight, and\nthe morning of her wedding-day! She dropped the curtains and turned to\ngreet the Favorite Lady-in-Waiting, who had come in. The Princess threw\nher arms round her Lady's neck to welcome her back, she was so glad and\nhappy.\n\nSo it came about that the Prince of the City Over the Mountains was the\nfirst to arrive on that eventful morning; for, though through all the\nrest of the night, and up to the very hour of the wedding, noble Princes\nand their retinues were received in state by the King, all of them had\nto be told that they were too late, and most of them rode off again at\nonce. Some who had never seen the Princess, but who had been attracted\nby reports of her beauty and her stateliness, waited to attend her\nmarriage feast, and to regret that they had not hurried themselves a\nlittle more.\n\nAs for the Philosopher, who should have been one of the chief persons of\ninterest on that important occasion, no one even thought of him, unless\nthe Princess did. But she looked too well pleased for any one to suppose\nshe missed him--which was fortunate, for he was never heard of any more.\n\nWhen the eventful day was past, the Mermaids and the Sea-gulls covered\nthe shore once again, talking it over, and the Mer-babies and the little\nSea-gulls stood around listening.\n\nPresently the Mer-mothers said: \"No more holidays. Lessons to-morrow!\"\nand the Mer-babies sighed, and the little Sea-gulls looked gloomy.\n\nOne of the Mer-babies stepped forward, holding something.\n\n\"Please take care of our pretty ball for us,\" she said, \"until holidays\ncome again.\"\n\nAs she was speaking the Mermaids sprang up, and they and all the\ngrown-up Sea-gulls cried with one accord:\n\n\"The Philosopher's Stone!\"\n\nAnd, sure enough, it was. It lay in the Mermaid's hand, all glowing with\nits magic blue, pale and dark by turns, its wonderful veins panting as\nif it were a living thing, its threads of gold moving and twining\nunderneath, round the red heart burning deep in the midst of it.\n\n\"That!\" cried every one of the Mer-babies and every one of the little\nSea-gulls. \"Why, we have had _that_ all the time! We found it on the\nsand, and we have played with it every day since!\"\n\nThen the Sea-gulls remembered what the Albatross had said, and the\nMermaids remembered what the Sea-serpent had said, and the Mer-babies\nremembered what the Wise White Bear had said, and they all looked at one\nanother.\n\nNow arose the question, What should be done with the Stone?\n\nIt needed no long discussion to settle. Every one agreed that it should\nbe given to the Youngest Lady-in-Waiting; for she had done for the\nPrincess what no one else had thought of doing, in carrying her letter\nto her true love so that he might be in time to win her. The happy day\njust past was entirely owing to her devotion.\n\nThe Stone was duly presented to her, and, accordingly, she became the\nrichest and most beautiful woman in the land, as she was already the\nkindest, while the Sea-folks generally, and the Mer-babies in\nparticular, gained great fame and distinction; for had they not found\nthe Magic Stone when it was lost, and given it to the nation's favorite?\nAnd they do say that the Favorite Lady-in-Waiting married a charming\nPrince almost (but not quite!) as captivating as the husband of the\nPrincess.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: \"IT WAS ONE MINUTE PAST MIDNIGHT, AND THE MORNING OF HER\n WEDDING DAY!\"]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE BAD TEMPER OF THE PRINCESS]\n\nBy Marian Burton\n\n\n1\n\nOnce upon a time, in a dainty little kingdom all parks and rivers\nand cottages and flowers, there lived a jolly, red-faced king named\nRudolpho. Every one of his subjects loved him, the surrounding kings\nwere his loyal friends, and the neighboring kingdoms were on the best\nof terms with him. Indeed, they had a happy way, these old kings, of\nexchanging thrones for a week now and then, just as some preachers\nnowadays exchange pulpits--to prove, I suppose, how very good their own\nis, after all. This king about whom I am telling you was fat, of course,\nand looked very like our good friend Santa Claus.\n\nYet, strange as it may seem, with all these blessings--a rich kingdom,\nfaithful subjects, and a loving wife--this good king was not happy.\nThere was one cloud, a very pretty silver-edged cloud, but yet a cloud,\nwhich hung just in front of the sun of his happiness and cast a great\nbig shadow.\n\nThe king had a daughter, the Princess Madge, his only child; and though\nshe was obedient in everything else, she just wouldn't, _wouldn't_,\nmarry. Now the king was very anxious for her to marry and settle down on\nthe throne, because he was growing old. Every morning for three weeks,\njust before breakfast, he had had three separate twinges of pain. The\nqueen said it was because of his rheumatism, but he knew better; he was\nsure that it was old age, and it made him very eager to have the kingdom\nin the hands of the new son-in-law king before he died.\n\nOf course there were plenty of princes and dukes and barons and lords\nwho would gladly have wedded the pretty princess for her own sweet sake\nalone, to say nothing of the prospect of being king some day, but she\nwouldn't have one of them. There was not a man in the kingdom nor in any\nof the surrounding kingdoms who suited her capricious fancy. Princes of\nhaughty mien, princes of gentle manner, handsome princes, ugly princes,\ntall princes, short princes, fat princes, lean princes, had been\nintroduced at the court, had been encouraged by the king and queen, and\nhad sought to gain her favor. She had been showered with gifts of rare\nflowers and precious stones, and had received thousands of little\nletters smelling of perfume; but from prince, from jewels, and from\nwritten vows of love she turned away with the same cheerful\ndetermination.\n\nA princess is a lonely little body, you know, and custom was so rigid in\nthe time of the Princess Madge that she had no one to talk to excepting\nPussy Willow, the royal kitten. She had no brother, no sister, no\ncousin, and no dearest friend. She didn't even have a chance to speak\nfreely to her own father and mother. It is true, she took breakfast with\nthem every morning at eleven in the great breakfast-room, but the\nbutlers and waiters and pages and flunkies were always standing about,\nwith their ears pricked up and their eyes bulging out, so that no one\ndared whisper a secret or have even the jolliest little family quarrel.\nIt is true her royal mama came at precisely ten o'clock to kiss her good\nnight every evening, but there were always a dozen maids and ladies in\nwaiting, and it was impossible to have a real good talk. But Pussy\nWillow was her constant companion, and to Pussy she told everything.\nThat friendly cat was the only living thing in the whole kingdom that\nreally knew that the princess intended to marry sometime. That was what\nworried the king and queen so much; Madge made them believe that she\nwould never marry any one, never, _never_, NEVER, but would live alone\nto the end of her days and leave the kingdom to any one who wished for\nit.\n\n [Illustration: \"Came at precisely ten o'clock to kiss her good-night\"]\n\n\"Pussy, I wouldn't tell a story to the king and queen for the world, but\nisn't it fun to see them take on so? If I really thought that papa was\nill and likely to die, I would be as good as gold; but those little\npains of his are only rheumatism, I am sure, so I don't mind teasing\nhim just a little. You know, Pussy, that when my ideal comes--oh, you\nneedn't look up and blink in such surprise, for I really have an ideal,\nand I will tell you all about him!\" Whereupon Pussy shook her head till\nher gold-bell necklace tinkled loudly, then she yawned a little and\nbegan to wash her face. She looked very wise as she sat there stroking\nher whiskers and thumping thoughtfully on the floor with her bunchy\ntail. After thinking thus seriously for a few minutes, she suddenly\nbegan a sympathetic little purr-song which seemed to say:\n\n\"Go on, little mistress; I am all ready to listen, and I'll not tell a\nsoul.\" Then Princess Madge continued:\n\n\"I don't care whether he is prince or pauper, high or low, handsome or\nplain; but he must in any case be contented. You know what contented\nmeans, Pussy--satisfied with what he has until he deserves and can get\nsomething better. If he is like that he will always be unselfish and\nhappy. Oh, yes, and I shall be happy, too. Now I am going to write a\nletter to papa and tell him that I will marry if he will find me a\ncontented man.\"\n\nQuick as thought, the princess opened her rose-wood and gold desk, drew\nout some paper with her crest on it and a jeweled pen, and wrote\ndaintily and carefully. It took her a very long time, Pussy Willow\nthought.\n\n\"Now, kitty, listen; I will read it to you:\n\n \"To his Majesty the King, from her Royal Highness, the Princess\n Madge.\n\n \"DEAR OLD PAPA: I have at last decided to be married if you can\n find a man to suit me. Now read, my dear papa, and remember\n that this decision is final. I will marry the first contented\n man you can find, no matter who he is. Read this little poem;\n it is my guiding star at this very serious time:\n\n \"'There is a jewel which no Indian mine can buy,\n No chemic art can counterfeit.\n It makes men rich in greatest poverty,\n Makes water wine, turns wooden cups to gold.\n Seldom it comes, to few from heaven sent,\n That much in little, all in naught--_content_.'\n\n \"What I have written, I have written.\n\n \"Your own MADGE.\n\n\n\"That sounds very well, doesn't it, Pussy? I am going to fold it so, and\nso, then cut off a strand of my hair--see, Pussy, it is nearly a yard\nlong, and it will go around and around this letter and tie in a great\ngolden knot. When the king sees that he will know it is very important.\nNow I will go to the door and tell the page to run with this to papa,\nand then--oh, I wonder what he will say!\"\n\nShe ran to the door, spoke a few words to the page who stood just\noutside, then returned to the great cushioned chair by the window. Pussy\nclimbed into her lap. They both winked a few times and blinked a few\ntimes and then fell fast asleep.\n\n\nII\n\nHalf an hour later the king, with his crown comfortably pushed back on\nhis head, and a smile very much all over his ruddy face, burst into the\nqueen's sitting-room. He held a tangle of golden hair in one hand and a\nsheet of blue note-paper in the other.\n\n\"My dear, my dear, what do you think has happened? Here, written by her\nown hand, the hand of the Princess Madge, are the happy words which\ndrive away all our fears. She will marry, my dear, she will marry; and\nlisten: she cares not what may be his rank or age or condition--he must\nbe a _contented_ man, that is all. Oh, what a child, what a child!\"\n\n\"Oh, Rudolpho, my love, is it true? Why, why, I am so happy! Is it\nreally true? Do give me my fan. Yes, thank you. Fan me, dear; a little\nfaster. It quite took my breath away. Just to think of that! Now go at\nonce and issue a royal edict summoning every contented man in this\nkingdom and in all the surrounding kingdoms to a grand feast here in the\npalace. After the feast we will hold a trial, and the Princess Madge\nshall be the judge.\"\n\nAway rushed the king, the pages in waiting outside the door vainly\ntrying to catch the end of his fluttering robe.\n\nThe next day a cavalcade of heralds set out from the palace gates,\nbearing posters which were hung in the market-place of every village for\nleagues about. In blue letters on a gold ground were these words:\n\n Ho, ye! Hear, ye! Ho, ye!\n\n On the twenty-third day of the month now present, every\n _contented_ man throughout the universe is summoned to the\n court of King Rudolpho for a feast and a trial for the hand\n of the Princess Madge. He among you all who is absolutely\n contented shall have the princess's hand in marriage, together\n with half the kingdom. Every man will be tried by the princess\n herself. Every man who falls short and stands not the test\n shall never again enter King Rudolpho's court.\n\n My hand + My seal +.\n RUDOLPHO, _Rex_.\n\n\nThe day dawned, brilliant and glorious. How the contented men jostled\neach other, and frowned at each other, and scolded each other as\nthey thronged through the palace gates! They all gathered in the\nbanquet-hall, where a wonderful feast was spread--a roasted ox, with\nwild boar and lamb and turkey and peacock, and a hundred kinds of\nfruit, and fifty kinds of ice-water; but as a dinner-party it was not a\nsuccess. Conversation was dull, each man glowered at his neighbor, and\nall seemed eager to finish the feast and begin the trial.\n\nFinally it was over, and five hundred and fifty contented men assembled\nin the royal court-room. The king and queen were seated on their\nthrones, but the princess was nowhere to be seen. There was a moment of\nbreathless waiting--then suddenly a door at the side of the court-room\nopened and the Princess Madge, carrying Pussy Willow, entered and was\nfollowed by her train-bearers and maids of honor. She wore a wonderful\ngown all white and gold down the front, with the foamiest of sea-foam\ngreen trains hanging from her shoulders away out behind her. Slowly,\nmajestically, she walked across the room, and stopped before a table on\nwhich lay a golden gavel. A quick tap of the gavel silenced the little\nmurmur that had arisen at her entrance. The king glanced at the queen,\nand they both smiled with pride in their stately daughter. The princess\ntapped again and began:\n\n\"Princes, baronets, honorables, commons of this kingdom and our\nneighboring kingdoms, I bid you welcome. You have come to sue for my\nhand and my fortune. I know full well, my noble men, that if I asked\nit you would gladly give me some great proof of your bravery and\ngoodness--but I ask you to take no risk and make no sacrifice. I merely\nwish to know whether I can find in any of you that secret of all true\ncourage and happiness--contentment. Now let every man of you who is\ncontented, _thoroughly contented_, rise. Remember, there are no degrees\nin contentment; it is absolute.\"\n\nThe black-robed throng arose--some eagerly, some impatiently, some\ndisdainfully, some few slowly and thoughtfully, but they all stood and\nwaited in utter silence.\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS MADGE ENTERS]\n\n\"As I put the test question, if there is any one who cannot answer it,\nlet him go quietly out through yonder door and never again show his\ndiscontented face in this court. You say you are contented--happy,\nunselfish, and satisfied with what the gods have given you. Answer me\nthis! Why, then, do you scowl and jostle one another? Why do you want to\nmarry any one--least of all, a princess with half the riches of a great\nkingdom as a dowry, to spoil your happiness? Greedy fortune-hunters! Do\nyou call that contentment?\"\n\nThe contented men stood a moment in baffled silence, then turned, one\nand all, and slowly marched out of the room. As the door closed upon the\nlast one of the disappointed suitors, the princess picked up her pretty\nkitten and, turning to her father and mother, said:\n\n\"Would you have me marry one of _those_? Why, they aren't half so\ncontented as a common, everyday pussy-cat. Good-by!\" And she laughed a\nmerry laugh, threw a kiss at the astonished king and queen, and ran from\nthe room.\n\n\nIII\n\nAt luncheon one day many months after the dismissal of the discontented\nsuitors, the prime minister entered the dining-room and announced to the\nking that a man had been found within the palace gates without a royal\npermit, and had been immediately put in the dungeon. He was a handsome\nfellow, the prime minister said, but very poorly clad. He made no\nresistance when he was taken prisoner, but earnestly requested that his\ntrial might come off as soon as possible, as he rather wanted to make a\nsketch of the palace and gardens, and he couldn't see very well from the\nslit in the top of the dungeon; but he begged them not to put themselves\nnor the king to any inconvenience, as he could just as well remain where\nhe was and write poems.\n\n\"In sooth, your Majesty,\" said the prime minister, in conclusion, \"from\nall we have heard and seen, it seemeth that at last we have found a\ncontented man.\"\n\nAs soon as the king finished his royal repast he disguised himself in\nthe long cloak and hat of a soldier and went with the prime minister and\nthe turnkey to catch a glimpse of the prisoner. As they approached the\ndungeon they heard a rich bass voice singing:\n\n \"Let the world slide, let the world go!\n A fig for care, and a fig for woe.\n If I must stay, why, I can't go,\n And love makes equal the high and low.\"\n\nThe king drew nearer, stooped, and peeped through the keyhole. Just\nopposite the door, on a three-legged stool, sat the prisoner. His head\nwas thrown back and he was looking at the sky through the bars in the\ntop of his cell. The song had ceased and he was talking softly to\nhimself. The king, in a whisper, told the prime minister to bring the\nprincess and have her remain hidden just outside the door. Then he\nmotioned to the turnkey to throw back the bolts, and he entered the\ndungeon alone.\n\n\"Why are you talking to yourself, man?\" he asked. The man answered:\n\n\"Because, soldier, I like to talk to a sensible man, and I like to hear\na sensible man talk.\"\n\n\"Ha, ha!\" laughed the king. \"Pretty good, pret-ty good! They tell me\nthat all things please you. Is it true?\"\n\n\"I think I can safely say yes, soldier.\"\n\n\"But why are you so poorly clad?\"\n\n\"The care of fine clothes is too much of a burden--I have long ago\nrefused to be fashion's slave.\"\n\n\"But where are your friends?\"\n\n\"Of those that I have had, the good are dead, and happier so than here;\nthe evil ones have left me and are befriending some one else, for which\nI say, 'Joy go with them.'\"\n\n\"And is there nothing that you want?\" As the king asked this question he\nlooked at the man in a peculiarly eager way, nor did the answer\ndisappoint him.\n\n\"I have all of the necessities of life and many of the luxuries. I am\nperfectly content. I know I have neither land nor money, but is not the\nwhole world mine? Can even the king himself take from me my delight in\nthe green trees and the greener fields, in that dainty little cloud\nflecking heaven's blue up yonder like a bit of foam on a sunlit sea? Oh,\nno! I am rich enough, for all nature is mine--\"\n\n\"And _I_ am yours,\" said a sweet young voice. The man looked up in\nsurprise, and there before him, holding out her pretty hands toward him,\nstood the Princess Madge, who had slipped into the cell unnoticed.\n\nThe man sprang to his feet, clasped the little hands in his, and said:\n\n\"I know not what you mean, sweet lady, when you say that you are mine;\nbut oh, you are passing beautiful!\"\n\n\"Papa,\" called the princess, \"this is quite dreadful. Quick, take off\nthat ugly soldier's coat and tell him who we are and all about it!\"\n\nThe king, starting as if from a dream, threw off the rough coat and hat\nand stepped forth into the beam of sunlight, resplendent in gold and\nermine.\n\n\"Thou dost not know me, my man? I am the king. Hast thou not read our\nlast proclamation?\"\n\n\"No, your Majesty; I never do read proclamations.\"\n\n [Illustration: I am Perfectly Content]\n\n\"Then thou didst not know that the hand of the princess is offered to\nthe first contented man who enters the palace?\"\n\n\"No, your Majesty; I knew it not.\"\n\n\"Then know it now, and know, too, that thou art the man. To thee I give\nmy daughter, together with half my kingdom. No, no--not a word. Thou\ndeservest her. May you be happy!\"\n\nThe prisoner, almost dumb with astonishment, almost dazed with joy,\nknelt and kissed the princess's white hands, then looked into her eyes\nand said:\n\n\"Ah, well it is for me that I saw you not until now, for I should have\nbeen miserably discontented until you were mine!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLYING SHIP\n\n_A Russian Tale_\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a Princess who was always wanting something\nnew and strange. She would not look at the princes who came to woo her\nfrom the kingdoms round about, because, she said, they all came in the\nsame way, in carriages which had four wheels and were drawn by four\nhorses. \"Why could not one come in a carriage with five wheels?\" she\nexclaimed petulantly, one day, \"or why come in a carriage at all?\" She\nadded: \"If one came in a flying ship I would wed him!\"\n\nSo the King made proclamation that whoever came to the palace in a\nflying ship should wed the Princess, and succeed to the kingdom. As the\nPrincess was very beautiful and the kingdom very rich, men everywhere\nbegan to try to build ships that would fly. But that was not so easy.\nThey could build ships that would sail--but flying was quite another\nthing!\n\nOn the far edge of the kingdom dwelt a widow with three sons. The two\nelder, hearing the proclamation, said that they wanted to go to the city\nand build each a flying ship. So the mother, who was very proud of these\nsons, and quite convinced that should the Princess see one of them it\nwould not be necessary for him to have a flying ship, laid out their\nbest clothes and gave each a satchel containing a lunch of white bread\nand jam and fruit, and wished them good luck on their journeys.\n\nNow the third son was called Simple, because he did not do as his\nbrothers did, and cared nothing for fine clothes and fine airs, but\nliked to wander off in the woods by himself. When Simple saw his\nbrothers starting off all so grandly he said: \"Give me a lunch, and I\nwill go and build a flying ship.\"\n\nThe truth was that the idea of a flying ship very much appealed to\nSimple, though he did not give much thought to the Princess.\n\nBut his mother said: \"Go back into the woods, Simple, that is the place\nfor you.\"\n\nBut Simple persisted, and at last she gave him a satchel containing a\nlunch of black bread without any jam, and a flask of water.\n\nAs Simple neared the woods he met a Manikin who asked him for something\nto eat. Simple was ashamed to open his satchel with the black bread and\nwater in it. \"But,\" he reflected, \"if one is hungry black bread is\nbetter than no bread.\" The Manikin certainly looked hungry, so Simple\nput his hand into the satchel and took out the roll of bread--and lo--it\nwas not black at all, but white, made of the finest flour, and spread\nwith rich, golden butter. The flask, too, when he took it out, was not\nas it had been when his mother put it in, but was filled with red wine.\n\nSo Simple and the Manikin sat down by the roadside and ate together.\nThen the Manikin asked Simple where he was going, and Simple told him\nthat he was going to build a flying ship. He almost forgot about the\nPrincess, but remembered, as an afterthought, and he told the Manikin\nthat when the ship was done he would fly in it to the palace and marry\nthe Princess.\n\n\"Well,\" said the Manikin, \"if you want to do that take this ax with you\nand the first tree that you come to strike it three times with the ax,\nthen bow before it three times, and then kneel down with your face\nhidden until you are told to get up. There will be a flying ship before\nyou. Climb into it and fly to the palace of the Princess, and if you\nmeet anybody along the way take them along.\"\n\nSo Simple took the ax and went into the wood, and the first tree that he\ncame to he struck three times with the ax, then bowed three times before\nit, then knelt down and hid his face. By-and-by he felt someone touch\nhis shoulder and he looked up, and there was a ship with wings\noutspread, all ready to fly. So he climbed into it and bade it fly away\nto the city of the Princess.\n\nAs he flew over a clearing in the woods Simple saw a man with his ear to\nthe ground, listening.\n\n\"Ho!\" he cried, \"you below! What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I am listening to the sounds of the world,\" said the man.\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"come up into the ship. Maybe you can hear more up\nhere.\"\n\nSo the man climbed up into the ship, and they flew on. As they passed\nover a field they saw a man hopping on one leg, with the other strapped\nup behind his ear.\n\n\"Ho!\" cried Simple, \"You below! Why do you hop on one leg, with the\nother bound up?\"\n\n\"Because,\" said the man, \"if I were to unbind the other I would step so\nfar that I would be at the end of the world in a minute.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"come up into the ship, that will be less tiresome\nthan hopping so far.\"\n\nSo the man came up into the ship and they flew on. As they passed a\nclear lake of cold water they saw a man standing beside it looking so\ndisconsolately at the water that Simple called out, \"Ho, you below! Why\ndo you look at the water so sadly?\"\n\n\"Because,\" said the man, \"I am very thirsty.\"\n\n\"Well,\" called Simple, \"why don't you take a drink? There is water\nenough!\"\n\n\"No,\" said the man, \"it is not right that I should drink here, for I am\nso thirsty that I would drink all of this at one gulp, and there would\nbe no lake, and I would still be thirsty.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"come up into the ship. Maybe we can find water\nenough for you somewhere.\"\n\nSo the man climbed up into the ship and they flew on. As they passed\nover a village they met a man carrying a great basket of bread. \"Ho!\"\ncried Simple, \"you below! Where are you going?\"\n\n\"I am going to the baker's at the other end of the village to buy some\nbread for my breakfast,\" replied the man.\n\n\"But you have a big basketful of bread now,\" said Simple.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the man, \"that is not enough for the first morsel. I shall\neat that up in one bite. There are not bakers enough in this village to\nkeep me supplied, and I am always hungry.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"come up into the ship. Maybe we shall find some\nbread in the city.\"\n\nSo the man climbed up into the ship and they flew on. As they passed\nover a meadow they saw a man carefully carrying a bundle of straw.\n\n\"Ho!\" cried Simple, \"you below! Why do you carry that straw so\ncarefully, when there is straw all about you in the meadow?\"\n\n\"But this is no ordinary straw,\" said the man. \"It has a magic power,\nand when it is scattered about it will make the hottest place as cold as\nice.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"bring it along and come up into the ship. It may\nbe hot in the city.\"\n\nSo the man climbed up into the ship and they flew on. As they passed\nover a wooded park they saw a man carrying a bundle of sticks.\n\n\"Ho!\" cried Simple, \"you below! Why do you carry those sticks so\ncarefully when all the woods about you are full of sticks?\"\n\n\"But these are not ordinary sticks,\" said the man. \"If I were to throw\nthem on the ground they would become soldiers, armed and ready for a\nbattle.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Simple, \"they are wonderful sticks indeed! Bring them up\ninto the ship. There may be a need for soldiers in the city.\"\n\nSo the man climbed up into the ship and they flew on. Soon they came to\nthe city, where the word soon went about that a ship was flying over,\nand men and women came out into the streets and on to the roofs of the\nhouses to see what it might be like. And the King came out on his\nbalcony and saw Simple and his strange crew flying straight toward the\npalace.\n\n\"Now, now,\" said the King, \"what sort of a fellow is this? I cannot have\nhim marry my daughter. He has not a knight in his train--and as for\nhim--!\" the King had no words in which to express his thought.\n\nThe Princess, too, looking out and seeing the flying ship with Simple in\nthe bow and the other strange folk behind him, repented of her rash\nword, and said: \"You must give this fellow some impossible task to do,\nso that he will fail, for it is certain that I cannot wed him.\"\n\nSo the King sent for his courtiers, and bade them wait upon the man in\nthe flying ship and say to him that before his daughter could be given\nin marriage a flask of water must be brought this day from a spring at\nthe end of the world.\n\nThe man with the wonderful hearing had his ear to the deck of the ship,\nand he heard this order, and reported it to Simple, who lamented, and\nsaid: \"How can I bring a flask of water from the end of the world? It\nmay take me a year to go there and back--perhaps even the rest of my\nlife.\"\n\nBut the man with the bound leg said: \"You forget that I am here. When\nthe summons comes I will take the flask and go for the water.\"\n\nSo when the messenger came Simple answered quietly that the order would\nbe obeyed at once.\n\nThe man with the bound leg unfastened his leg from behind his ear and\nstarted off to the end of the world, and when he came there he filled\nthe flask and came back with it, and Simple went with it to the palace,\narriving just as the King and the Princess were finishing their dinner.\n\n\"That is all very well,\" said the King, \"but we cannot have this fellow\nwed the Princess. We will prepare a feast, and tell him that it must be\neaten at once. Let forty oxen be killed, and five hundred loaves be\nprepared and five hundred cakes be baked, and all of these must this\nfellow and his followers eat.\"\n\nThe man with the wonderful hearing having his ear to the deck of the\nship reported this conversation to Simple, who lamented and said: \"How\ncan we eat forty oxen, and five hundred loaves and five hundred cakes!\nIt will take us a year to eat so much, or maybe all of the rest of our\nlives.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the hungry man, who had long since eaten the few loaves from\nhis basket, \"you forget that I am here. Perhaps now for the first time\nin my life I shall have enough to eat.\"\n\nSo when the feast was served they all sat down to it, and ate as they\nwished; then the hungry man ate the remainder of the forty oxen and the\nfive hundred loaves and the five hundred cakes and there was not a crumb\nleft. When he had quite finished he said that he could have eaten at\nleast two more oxen and another hundred cakes, but that he was not quite\nso hungry as he had been.\n\nWhen the King's messengers told him that the feast was all eaten that\nsame night he said: \"That is all very well, but we cannot have this\nfellow wed the Princess. We will prepare a drinking, and serve five\nhundred flagons of wine, and tell him that it must all be drunken that\nsame night, or he cannot wed the Princess. Let the flagons of wine be\nprepared and served to him, and all of them must this fellow and his\nfollowers drink.\"\n\nThe man with the wonderful hearing having his ear to the deck of the\nship reported this to Simple, who lamented and said: \"How can we drink\nfive hundred flagons of wine? It will take us a year to do so, or maybe\nall of the rest of our lives.\"\n\nBut the thirsty man said, \"You forget that I am here. Perhaps now for\nthe first time in my life I shall have enough to drink.\"\n\nSo when the wine was served they all gathered around the table and drank\nas much as they wanted of it; then the thirsty man picked up flagon\nafter flagon and drank them off until all were empty. And at the end he\nsaid that he could have drunken at least fifty flagons more, but that he\nwas not so thirsty as he had been.\n\nWhen the messengers of the King reported that the wine was all drunken,\nthe King said: \"Now are we put to it, for we cannot have this fellow wed\nthe Princess.\" So he sent his messengers to the ship bidding Simple come\nto the palace and make ready for the wedding, and prepared a bath for\nhim. And when Simple entered the room for the bath he found that it was\nheated so hot that the walls burned his hands when he touched them, and\nthe floors were like red-hot iron. But the man with the straw had come\nin behind him, warned by the man with the wonderful hearing, and seeing\nwhat was afoot, scattered his straw all about the bathroom, and at once\nit became as cold as one could wish, and, the door having been locked,\nSimple climbed up on the stove and went to sleep, and there they found\nhim in the morning, wrapped in a blanket.\n\nWhen this was reported to the King he was very angry, and he said, \"This\nfellow is evidently very smart, but for all of that we cannot have him\nwed the Princess. I will give him an impossible task. Go you to him,\"\nhe said to the messenger, \"and tell him that he must come to me at\nto-morrow's sunrise with an army fitting the rank of one who would wed\nthe Princess.\"\n\nWhen the man with the wonderful hearing reported this to Simple he was\nin despair, and lamented and said: \"Now at last am I beaten, though,\nafter all, I have a flying ship, even if I do not wed the Princess. It\nwill take me a year to raise an army, perhaps it would take all the rest\nof my life.\"\n\nBut the man with the sticks said: \"You forget that I am here. Now all of\nthese others have proven that they could help you to win the Princess,\nlet me at least do my share.\"\n\nSo at dawn they flew out over the parade ground, and the man with the\nsticks threw them down upon the ground, and immediately there sprung up\nsoldiers, in platoons and regiments, with armor, and captains and\ncolonels and generals to command them. And the King and his courtiers\nhad never seen such an army, and the Princess, standing on the balcony\nbeside her father, as they rode by the palace, seeing Simple riding at\nthe head of the band, with the generals paying him homage, said: \"This\nman must be a very great prince indeed, and, now that I look at him he\nis not so uncomely, after all.\"\n\nAnd Simple, riding at the head of his army, looking up at the balcony\nand seeing the Princess there said to himself: \"A flying ship is all\nvery well, but the Princess is very beautiful, and to wed her will be\nthe most wonderful thing in the world.\"\n\nSo Simple and the Princess were married, and the crew of the flying ship\nwere at the wedding, and all of the captains and the colonels and the\ngenerals of his army, and never had there been such a wedding in the\nkingdom. And by and by the King died, and Simple became the King, and\nthe Princess became the Queen, and they lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nROBIN OF THE LOVING HEART\n\nBY EMMA ENDICOTT MAREAN\n\n\n\"_Please, Mother, tell us a story. Have him a wood-chopper boy this\ntime. Please, Mother, quick, for Elizabeth is sleepy already. Oh,\nMother, hurry!_\"\n\n_So here is the story._\n\n * * *\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little boy who lived all alone with his\nparents in the heart of a deep wood. His father was a wood-chopper who\nworked hard in the forest all day, while the mother kept everything tidy\nat home and took care of Robin. Robin was an obliging, sunny-hearted\nlittle fellow who chopped the kindling as sturdily as his father chopped\nthe dead trees and broken branches, and then he brought the water and\nturned the spit for his mother.\n\nAs there were no other children in the great forest, he made friends\nwith the animals and learned to understand their talk. In the spring the\nmother robin, for whom he thought he was named, called him to see the\nblue eggs in her nest, and in the autumn the squirrels chattered with\nhim and brought him nuts. But his four dearest friends were the Owl, who\ncame to his window evenings and gave him wise counsel; the Hare, who\nplayed hide-and-seek with him around the bushes; the Eagle, who brought\nhim strange pebbles and shells from the distant seashore; and the Lion,\nwho, for friendship's sake, had quite reformed his habits and his\nappetite, so that he lapped milk from Robin's bowl and simply adored\nbreakfast foods.\n\nSuddenly all the happiness in the little cottage was turned to mourning,\nwhen the good wood-chopper was taken ill, and the mother was at her\nwits' end to take care of him and to provide bread and milk. Robin's\nheart burned within him to do something to help, but he could not swing\nan ax with his little hands.\n\n\"Ah,\" he said that night to his friend the Owl, \"if I were a great\nknight, perhaps I could ride to the city and win the Prize for Good\nLuck.\"\n\n\"And what is the Prize for Good Luck?\" asked the Owl, who knew\neverything in the world except that.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE OWL CALLED A COUNCIL OF ROBIN'S BEST FRIENDS\"]\n\nThen Robin explained that the lovely princess, whose hair was like spun\ngold and whose eyes were like the blue forget-me-nots by the brook, had\nlost her precious amulet, given to her by her godmother, which kept her,\nas long as it lay on her neck, healthy and beautiful and happy. One day,\nwhen she was playing in the flower-garden, the little gold chain snapped\nand the amulet rolled away. Everybody in the palace had searched, the\nsoldiers had been called out to help, and all the small boys had been\norganized into an amulet brigade, for what they cannot see is usually\nnot worth seeing at all. But no one could find it, and in the meantime\nthe princess grew pale, and, truth to tell, rather cross. Her hair\ndulled a little, and her eyes looked like forget-me-nots drowned in the\nbrook. When the court philosopher reasoned the matter out and discovered\nthat the amulet had been carried far away, perhaps outside the kingdom,\nthe king offered the Prize for Good Luck for its return.\n\n\"Now, if I could win the Prize for Good Luck,\" said Robin, \"we should\nhave bread and milk all the time, and Mother need not work so hard.\"\n\nThen the Owl in her wisdom called a council of Robin's best friends, and\nasked them what they were going to do about it. They waited respectfully\nfor her advice; and this was her wonderful plan:\n\n\"Robin could win the Prize for Good Luck,\" declared the Owl, \"if only he\nwere wise and swift and clear-sighted and strong enough. Now I will lend\nhim my wisdom, the Hare shall lend his swiftness, the Eagle shall lend\nhis eyesight, and the Lion shall lend his strength.\" And thus it was\nagreed.\n\nThen the Owl went back to little Robin's window and explained the plan.\n\n\"You must remember,\" she said warningly, \"time is precious. It is almost\nmorning now. I cannot long spare my wisdom, for who would guide the\nfeathered folk? If the Hare cannot run, how can he escape the fox? If\nthe Eagle cannot see, he will dash himself into the cliff if he flies,\nand he will starve to death if he sits still. If the Lion's strength is\ngone, the wolves will be the first to know it. Return, then, without\ndelay. At the stroke of nine o'clock to-morrow night, we shall await you\nhere. Now go quickly, for rather would I die than live like the\nfeather-brained blue jay.\"\n\nImmediately Robin felt himself so strong and so brave that he hesitated\nnot a minute. Swift as a hare he hastened to the palace, and at daybreak\nhe blew the mighty horn that announced the coming of one who would seek\nfor the amulet. The king groaned when he saw him, sure that it would be\na vain quest for such a little fellow. The truth was that the court\nphilosopher feared the amulet had been stolen by the Ogre of Ogre\nCastle, but no one dared to mention the fact, much less to ask the Ogre\nto return it. The princess, however, immediately sat up and took notice,\ncharmed by the brave light in Robin's eyes and his merry smile.\n\nRobin asked to be taken up into the highest tower of the palace, and\nthere, looking leagues and leagues away to Ogre Castle, he saw with his\nEagle sight the amulet, glowing like sunlight imprisoned in a ruby.\n\nThe Ogre was turning it over and over in his hand, muttering to himself,\nin the stupid way ogres always have: \"It must be a nut, for I can see\nsomething good inside.\" Robin could not hear him, but he was sure, by\nthe help of the Owl's wisdom, that it was the amulet.\n\n [Illustration: \"AT DAYBREAK ROBIN BLEW THE MIGHTY HORN\"]\n\nIn a thrice--that means while you count three--Robin was speeding away\nwith the Hare's swiftness toward Ogre Castle, and in a few minutes he\nwas demanding the amulet from the Ogre.\n\nNow usually the Ogre was not at all a disagreeable fellow, and the Owl's\nwisdom would have easily sufficed to enable Robin to secure the amulet\nwithout trouble, but he had just tried to crack the amulet with his\nteeth. It broke off the very best tooth he had in his head, and his poor\njaws ached so that he was in a very bad temper. He turned fiercely, and\nfor a few minutes Robin needed all the strength the Lion had given him.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE PRINCESS WAVED HER LILY HAND TO ROBIN\"]\n\nAfter all, the Ogre was one of the pneumatic-tire, hot-water-bag kind of\ngiants, who flat out if you stick a pin into them and lie perfectly limp\nuntil they are bandaged up and set going once more. That is really a\nsecret, but Robin knew it by the help of the Owl's wisdom, and he was\nnot the least little bit afraid.\n\nSo Robin managed to get the amulet away without too much difficulty, and\nthe Hare's swiftness quickly took him back to the palace. When the\nprincess, who was watching from the tower window, saw the rosy light of\nthe amulet in the distance, pinkness came back to her cheeks, and her\neyes shone like stars, and she waved her lily hand to Robin in perfect\nhappiness.\n\nAh, such a merrymaking as they planned for that evening! Robin was to\nreceive the Prize for Good Luck, so much gold coin that it would take\nthree carts and six mules to carry it back to the cottage. The king\ncounted out money all the afternoon, and the queen put up tarts and jars\nof honey for Robin to take to his mother, and the princess gave him her\nphotograph.\n\nNow comes the sad part. It had taken so much time to reach the palace,\nto explain to the king, to ascend the tower and find the amulet, to\nconquer the Ogre of Ogre Castle, and to return to the palace, that it\nwas almost night before Robin realized it. When the money had been\ncounted out and the tarts wrapped in paraffin paper and the pots of\nhoney packed in excelsior, it was seven o'clock.\n\nNow the party was to begin at nine, for the princess had to have her\nwhite satin frock sent home from the dressmaker, and her hair had to be\ncurled. The Punch and Judy was to come at ten, and the ice-cream was to\nbe served at eleven, for in palaces people keep terribly late hours, not\nat all good for them. Just as Robin had dressed himself in a beautiful\nblue velvet suit, thinking how fine it was that he should open the dance\nwith the princess and how lucky it was that he had the strength of a\nlion, so that he could dance at all after his busy day, he suddenly\nremembered his promise to the Owl.\n\nIt was such a shock that, in spite of the Lion's strength, he nearly\nfainted. Then he went quickly to the king and told him that he must go\naway at once. The king was very angry and bade him have done with such\nnonsense.\n\n\"Faith, you must stay,\" he said crossly. \"There would be no living with\nthe princess if her party is spoiled. Besides, you will lose the Prize\nfor Good Luck, for the people have been promised that they shall see it\npresented to somebody to-night and we must not disappoint them.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"THE SAUCY BLUE JAY MOCKED THE FLUTTERING OWL\"]\n\nPoor Robin's heart was heavy. How could he lose all that he had gained\nand go away as poor as when he came? That wasn't all nor half of all. To\nlose the money would be bad, but he had much more to lose than that. For\none day he had enjoyed the fun of being stronger and wiser and swifter\nand keener-sighted than anybody else. Isn't that better than money and\nall the prizes for good luck? Yes, indeed, his heart answered over and\nover again. How could he go back and give up the wisdom and the\nswiftness and the clear sight and the strength, even if he could give up\nthe money?\n\n\"I know now,\" he thought bitterly, \"how the Owl felt when she said she\nwould not be a feather-brain like the blue jay. And it is much more\nimportant for a boy to be strong than for a common old lion, who is\npretty old anyway. And there are lots of hares in the forest and eagles\non the mountain.\"\n\nThen Robin slowly climbed the stairs to the tower, for he thought he\nwould see what the Owl and the Hare and the Eagle and the Lion were\ndoing in the forest. He looked over to the cottage, leagues and leagues\naway. There, under a big oak, lay the Owl, her feathers all a-flutter.\nShe had had no more sense than to go out in the brilliant sunshine, and\nsomething had gone wrong inside her head. The saucy blue jay stood back\nand mocked her. Robin's heart gave one little throb of pity, but he was\nwise enough to see the value of wisdom, and he hardened himself. \"I\ndon't believe she has sense enough to know that anything is wrong,\" he\nsaid to himself.\n\nThen he looked for the Hare. \"Oh, he's all right,\" said Robin, gladly.\nBut just then he saw a dark shape, only about a mile away, following the\nHare's track.\n\nRobin's heart gave two throbs of pity. \"Poor old Hare!\" he said. \"I have\nhad lots of fun with him.\"\n\nThen he looked for the Eagle, and his heart beat hard and fast when he\nsaw him sitting alone on the dead branch of a tree, one wing hanging\nbruised, perhaps broken, and his sightless eyes turned toward the tower,\nwaiting, waiting. Blind!\n\n [Illustration: \"IT FOLLOWED THE HARE'S TRACK\"]\n\nRobin looked quickly for the Lion. For a time he could not find him, for\ntears came in his eyes as he thought of the Eagle. Then he saw the poor\ncreature, panting from thirst, trying to drag himself to the river. He\nwas almost there when his last bit of strength seemed to fail, and he\nlay still, with the water only a few yards away.\n\nThen Robin's heart leaped and bounded with pity, and with pure\ngladness, too, that he was not yet too late to save his friends from the\nconsequences of their own generosity. The last rays of sunset struck the\ntower as Robin, forgetting all about his blue velvet clothes and the\nprincess and the Prize for Good Luck, ran and raced, uphill and down,\nthrough brambles and briers, over bogs and hummocks, leaving bits of\nlace caught on the bushes, swifter than ever he hastened to the Ogre of\nOgre Castle or to the lovely princess with the amulet.\n\n [Illustration: \"HE SAW THE POOR CREATURE PANTING FROM THIRST\"]\n\n [Illustration: \"HE SAW THE BLIND EAGLE SITTING ALONE IN THE TREE\"]\n\nHe was there--oh, yes, he was there long before nine o'clock. The Owl\nreceived back her wisdom, and I can tell you that she soon sent the\nsaucy blue jay packing. The Hare had his swiftness, and the fox was left\nso far behind that he was soon glad to limp back home and eat the plain\nsupper that Mrs. Fox had prepared for him. The poor blind Eagle opened\nhis eyes, and saw the moon and the stars, and, better than moon and\nstars, the loving face of his comrade, Robin. The Lion drank his fill,\nand said that now he would like some breakfast food, please. So the\nstory ended happily after all.\n\nOh, yes, I forgot about the Prize for Good Luck, didn't I? When the king\ntold the princess that Robin was foolish enough to give back the wisdom\nand the swiftness and the clear sight and the strength that had won the\nprize for him, and that without them he was only a very common little\nboy, not good enough for a princess to dance with, she stamped her foot\nand called for the godmother who gave her the amulet in the first place.\n\nThen the princess's godmother said that the princess for once was quite,\nquite right--that Robin must have the three cartloads of gold coin drawn\nby six mules, and the tarts and honey for his mother, and whenever the\nprincess gave another party she must ask him to open the dance with her,\nblue velvet suit or no blue velvet suit--\"because,\" said the godmother,\n\"there is one thing better than wisdom or swiftness or clear sight or\nstrength, and that is a loving heart.\"\n\n * * *\n\n_But Elizabeth had gone to sleep._\n\n\n\n\nIN SPRING\n\n Rippling and gurgling and giggling along,\n The brooklets are singing their little spring song;\n Laughing and lively and gay as can be,\n They are skipping right merrily down to the sea.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nA FAMOUS CASE\n\nBY THEODORE C. WILLIAMS\n\n\n Two honey-bees half came to blows\n About the lily and the rose,\n Which might the sweeter be;\n And as the elephant passed by,\n The bees decided to apply\n To this wise referee.\n\n The elephant, with serious thought,\n Ordered the flowers to be brought,\n And smelt and smelt away.\n Then, swallowing both, declared his mind:\n \"No trace of perfume can I find,\n But both resemble hay.\"\n\n MORAL\n\n Dispute is wrong. But foolish bees,\n Who will contend for points like these,\n Should not suppose good taste in roses\n Depends on elephantine noses.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nOLD-FASHIONED STORIES\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWELVE HUNTSMEN\n\n\nHundreds of thousands of years ago a prince met a fair maiden as he\ntraveled through the Enchanted Land. The prince loved the maiden dearly,\nand she loved him as much as he loved her.\n\n\"Will you marry me?\" asked the prince one day.\n\n\"Indeed I will,\" said the maiden, \"for there is no one in all the world\nI love so well.\"\n\nThen all was as merry as merry could be. The maiden danced and sang, and\nthe prince laughed aloud for joy.\n\nBut one day, as they were together, a messenger arrived hot and\nbreathless. He came from the prince's father, who was King of a\nneighboring kingdom.\n\n\"His Majesty is dying,\" said the messenger, \"and he would speak with\nyou, my lord.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the prince to the maiden, \"I must leave you, and remain\nwith my father until his death. Then I shall be king and I will come for\nyou and you shall be my queen. Till then, good-by. This ring I give you\nas a keepsake. Once more, farewell.\"\n\nThe maiden drew the ring on her finger, and, with a sad heart, watched\nthe prince ride off.\n\nThe King had but a short time to live when his son arrived at the\npalace. \"Ah,\" said the dying man, \"how glad I am that you are come.\nThere is one promise I wish you to make ere I die. Then I shall close my\neyes in peace.\"\n\n\"Surely, dear father, I will promise what you ask. There is nothing I\nwould not do to let you rest at ease.\"\n\nThen said the dying King, \"Promise that you will marry the bride whom I\nhave chosen for you,\" and he named a princess well known to the prince.\n\nWithout thinking of anything but to ease his father's mind, the prince\nsaid, \"I promise.\" The King smiled gladly as he heard the words, and\nclosed his eyes in peace.\n\nThe prince was now proclaimed King, and the time soon came when he must\ngo to the bride his father had chosen for him, and ask, \"Will you marry\nme?\" This he did, and the princess answered, \"Indeed I will.\"\n\nNow the maiden who had first promised to marry the prince heard of this,\nand it nearly broke her heart. Each day she grew paler and thinner,\nuntil her father at last said: \"Wherefore, my child, do you look so sad?\nAsk what you will, and I shall do my utmost to give it you.\"\n\nFor a moment his daughter thought. Then she said: \"Dear father, find for\nme eleven maidens exactly like myself. Let them be fair, and tall, and\nslim, with curly golden hair.\"\n\n\"I shall do my best,\" said her father; and he had a search made far and\nwide throughout the Enchanted Land until the eleven maidens were found.\nEach was fair, and tall, and slim, and there was not one whose golden\nhair did not curl.\n\nThe maiden was pleased indeed, and she next ordered twelve huntsmen's\ndresses to be made of green cloth, trimmed with beaver fur; also twelve\ngreen caps each with a pheasant's feather. Then to each of the maidens\nshe gave a dress and hat, commanding her to wear them, while the twelfth\nshe wore herself.\n\nThe twelve huntsmen then set out on horseback to the court of the King,\nwho, when a prince, had promised to marry their leader.\n\nSo well was the maiden disguised by the hunting-dress, that the King did\nnot recognize her. She asked if he were in need of huntsmen, and if he\nwould take her and her companions into his service.\n\nNever had a finer troop been seen, and the King said he would gladly\nengage them. So they entered his service, and lived at the palace, and\nwere treated with all kindness and respect.\n\nNow among the King's favorites at court was a lion. To possess this lion\nwas as good as to have a magician, for he knew all secret things.\n\nOne evening the lion said to the King: \"You imagine you engaged twelve\nyoung huntsmen not long ago, do you not?\"\n\n\"I did,\" said the King.\n\n\"Pray excuse me, if I contradict you,\" said the lion, \"but I assure you,\nyou are mistaken. They were not huntsmen whom you engaged, but twelve\nmaidens.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" said the King, \"absurd, ridiculous!\"\n\n\"Again I would crave forgiveness if I offend,\" said the lion, \"but those\nwhom you believe to be huntsmen are, in truth, twelve fair maidens.\"\n\n\"Prove what you say, if you would have me believe it,\" said the King.\n\n\"To-morrow, then, summon the twelve to the royal chamber. On the floor\nlet peas be scattered. Then, as the huntsmen advance toward you, you\nwill see them trip and slide as maidens. If they are men they will walk\nwith a firm tread.\"\n\n\"Most wise Lion!\" said the King, and he ordered it to be done as the\nroyal beast had said.\n\nBut in the palace was a servant who already loved the fair young\nhuntsmen, and when he heard of the trap that was to be laid, he went\nstraight to them and said, \"The lion is going to prove to the King that\nyou are maidens.\" Then he told them how he would seek to do this, and\nsaid, \"Do your best to walk with a firm tread.\"\n\nNext morning the King ordered the twelve huntsmen to be called, and as\nthey walked across the royal chamber, it was with so firm a tread that\nnot a single pea moved.\n\nAfter they had left, the King turned to the lion and said, \"You have\nspoken falsely. They walked as other men.\"\n\nBut the lion said: \"They must have been warned, or they would have\ntripped and slidden as maidens. I will yet prove to you that I speak the\ntruth. To-morrow, summon the twelve to the royal chamber. Let twelve\nspinning-wheels be placed there. Then, as the huntsmen advance toward\nyou, you will see each cast longing looks at the spinning-wheels, which,\nif they were men, you must grant they would not do.\"\n\nThe King was pleased that the huntsmen should again be put to the test,\nfor the lion was a wise beast and had never before been proved wrong.\n\nBut again the kind servant warned the disguised maidens, and they\nresolved not even to glance in the direction of the spinning-wheels.\n\nNext morning the King ordered the twelve huntsmen to be called, and as\nthey walked across the royal chamber there was not one of them but\nlooked straight into the eyes of the King. It seemed as though they had\nnot known that the spinning-wheels were there.\n\nAfter they had gone the King turned to the lion, and again he said, \"You\nhave spoken falsely.\" Then he told the royal beast that the twelve\nhuntsmen had not even glanced in the direction of the spinning-wheels.\n\n\"They must have been warned,\" repeated the lion, but the King believed\nhim no longer.\n\nSo the huntsmen stayed with the King and went out a-hunting with him,\nand the more he saw of them the more he liked them.\n\nOne day, while they were in the forest, news was brought that the\nprincess whom the King was to marry was on her way to meet the\nhunting-party.\n\nWhen the true bride heard it, she grew white as a lily, and, staggering,\nfell backward. Fortunately, the trunk of a tree supported her until the\nKing, wondering what had happened to his dear huntsman, ran to the spot\nand pulled off her glove.\n\nLooking at the white hand, what was his surprise to see upon the middle\nfinger the ring he had given to the maiden he loved. Then he looked into\nher face and recognized her, and in a flash he understood that she had\ncome to court as a huntsman, only to be near him. The King was so\ntouched that he kissed her white cheeks till they grew rosy, and her\nblue eyes opened in wonder. \"You shall be my queen,\" he said, \"and none\nin all the wide world shall separate us.\"\n\nThen he sent a messenger to the princess who was coming to meet him,\nsaying he was sorry he must ask her to return home, as the maiden that\nhe loved and was going to marry was with him in the forest.\n\nAnd the next day the bells pealed loud and far, and at the royal wedding\nthe lion was an honored guest, because it had at last been proved that\nhe spoke the truth.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had twelve daughters, each more\nbeautiful than the other. The twelve princesses slept in a large hall,\neach in a little bed of her own. After they were snugly settled for the\nnight, their father, the King, used to bolt the door on the outside. He\nthen felt sure that his daughters would be safe until he withdrew the\nbolt next morning.\n\nBut one day when the King unbolted the hall door, and peeped in as\nusual, he saw twelve worn-out pairs of little slippers lying about the\nfloor.\n\n\"What! shoes wanted again,\" he exclaimed, and after breakfast a\nmessenger was sent to order a new pair for each of the princesses.\n\nBut the next morning the new shoes were worn out, how no one knew.\n\nThis went on and on until the King made up his mind to put an end to the\nmystery. The shoes, he felt sure, were danced to pieces, and he sent a\nherald to offer a reward to any one who should discover where the\nprincesses held their night-frolic.\n\n\"He who succeeds, shall choose one of my daughters to be his wife,\" said\nthe King, \"and he shall reign after my death; but he who fails, after\nthree nights' trial, shall be put to death.\"\n\nSoon a prince arrived at the palace, and said he was willing to risk his\nlife in the attempt to win one of the beautiful princesses.\n\nWhen night came, he was given a bedroom next the hall in which the royal\nsisters slept. His door was left ajar and his bed placed so that from it\nhe could watch the door of the hall. The escape of the princesses he\nwould also watch, and he would follow them in their flight, discover\ntheir secret haunt, and marry the fairest.\n\nThis is what the prince meant to do, but before long he was fast asleep.\nAnd while he slept, the princesses danced and danced, for, in the\nmorning, the soles of their slippers were once more riddled with holes.\n\nThe next night the prince made up his mind that stay awake he would, but\nagain he must have fallen fast asleep, for in the morning twelve pairs\nof little worn-out slippers lay scattered about the floor of the hall.\n\nThe third night, in fear and trembling, the prince began his night\nwatch. But try as he might, he could not keep his eyes open, and when in\nthe morning the little slippers were as usual found riddled with holes,\nthe King had no mercy on the prince who could not keep awake, and his\nhead was at once cut off.\n\nAfter his death, many princes came from far and near, each willing to\nrisk everything in the attempt to win the fairest of these fair\nprincesses. But each failed, and each in his turn was beheaded.\n\nNow a poor soldier, who had been wounded in the wars, was on his way\nhome to the town where the twelve princesses lived. One morning he met\nan old witch.\n\n\"You can no longer serve your country,\" she said. \"What will you do?\"\n\n\"With your help, good mother, I mean to rule it,\" replied the soldier;\nfor he had heard of the mystery at the palace, and of the reward the\nKing offered to him who should solve it.\n\n\"That need not be difficult,\" said the witch. \"Listen to me. Go\nstraightway to the palace. There you will be led before the throne. Tell\nthe King that you would win the fairest of his fair daughters for your\nwife. His Majesty will welcome you gladly, and when night falls, you\nwill be shown to a little bedroom. From the time you enter it, remember\nthese three things. Firstly, refuse to drink the wine which will be\noffered you; secondly, pretend to fall fast asleep; thirdly, wear this\nwhen you wish to be invisible.\" So saying, the old dame gave him a cloak\nand disappeared.\n\nStraightway, the soldier went to the palace, and was led before the\nthrone. \"I would win the fairest of your fair daughters for my wife,\"\nsaid he, bowing low before the King.\n\nSo anxious was his Majesty to discover the secret haunt of his\ndaughters, that he gladly welcomed the poor soldier, and ordered that he\nshould be dressed in scarlet and gold.\n\nWhen bedtime came, the soldier was shown his little room, from which he\ncould see the door of the sleeping-hall. No sooner had he been left\nalone than in glided a fair princess bearing in her hand a silver\ngoblet.\n\n\"I bring you sweet wine. Drink,\" she said. The soldier took the cup and\npretended to swallow, but he really let the wine trickle down into a\nsponge which he had fastened beneath his chin.\n\nThe princess then left him, and he went to bed and pretended to fall\nasleep. So well did he pretend, that before long his snores were heard\nby the princesses in their sleeping-hall.\n\n\"Listen,\" said the eldest, and they all sat up in bed and laughed and\nlaughed till the room shook.\n\n\"If ever we were safe, we are safe to-night,\" they thought, as they\nsprang from their little white beds, and ran to and fro, opening\ncupboards, boxes, and cases, and taking from them dainty dresses, and\nribbons, and laces and jewels.\n\nGaily they decked themselves before the mirror, bubbling over with\nmischief and merriment at the thought that once more they should enjoy\ntheir night-frolic. Only the youngest sister was quiet.\n\n\"I don't know why,\" she said, \"but I feel so strange--as if something\nwere going to happen.\"\n\n\"You are a little goose,\" answered the eldest, \"you are always afraid.\nWhy! I need not have put a sleeping powder in the soldier's wine. He\nwould have slept without it. Now, are you all ready?\"\n\nThe twelve princesses then stood on tiptoe at the hall door, and peered\ninto the little room where the soldier lay, seemingly sound asleep.\nYes, they were quite safe once more.\n\nBack they went into the hall. The eldest princess tapped upon her bed.\nImmediately it sank into the earth, and, through the opening it had\nmade, the princesses went down one by one.\n\nThe soldier who, peeping, had seen twelve little heads peer out of the\nhall door, at once threw his invisible cloak around him, and followed\nthe princesses into the hall, unseen. He was just in time to reach the\nyoungest, as she disappeared through the opening in the floor. Halfway\ndown he trod upon her frock.\n\n\"Oh, what was that?\" screamed the little princess, terrified. \"Some one\nis tramping on my dress.\"\n\n\"Nonsense, be quiet,\" said the eldest, \"it must have caught on a hook.\"\nThen they all went down, down, until they reached a beautiful avenue of\nsilver trees.\n\nThought the soldier, \"I must take away a remembrance of the place to\nshow the King,\" and he broke off a twig.\n\n\"Oh, did you hear that crackling sound?\" cried the youngest princess. \"I\ntold you something was going to happen.\"\n\n\"Baby!\" replied the eldest. \"The sound was a salute.\"\n\nNext they came to an avenue where the trees were golden. Here the\nsoldier again broke off a twig, and again was heard the crackling sound.\n\n\"A salute, I told you,\" said the eldest princess to her terrified little\nsister.\n\nFurther on they reached an avenue of trees that glittered with diamonds.\nWhen the soldier once more broke off a twig, the youngest princess\nscreamed with fright, but her sisters only went on faster and faster,\nand she had to follow in fear and trembling.\n\nAt last they came to a great lake. Close to the shore lay twelve little\nboats, and in each boat stood a handsome prince, one hand upon an oar,\nthe other outstretched to welcome a princess.\n\nSoon the little boats rowed off, a prince and a princess in each, the\nsoldier, still wearing his invisible cloak, sitting by the youngest\nsister.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said the prince who rowed her, \"why the boat is so heavy\nto-day. I have to pull with all my strength, and yet can hardly get\nalong.\"\n\n\"I am sure I do not know,\" answered the princess. \"I dare say it is the\nhot weather.\"\n\nOn the opposite shore of the lake stood a castle. Its bright lights\nbeckoned to the twelve little boats that rowed toward it. Drums beat,\nand trumpets sounded a welcome. Very merrily did the sisters reach the\nlittle pier. They sprang from the boats, and ran up the castle steps and\ninto the gay ballroom. And there they danced and danced, but never saw\nor guessed that the soldier with the invisible cloak danced among them.\nWhen a princess lifted a wine-cup to her lips and found it empty, she\nfelt frightened, but she little thought that the unseen soldier had\ndrained it. On and on they danced, until three o'clock, but then the\nsisters had to stop, for all their little slippers were riddled with\nholes. And in the early gray morning the princes rowed them back across\nthe lake, while the soldier seated himself this time beside the eldest\nprincess.\n\nWhen they reached the bank, the sisters wandered up the sloping shore,\nwhile the princes called after them, \"Good-by, fair daughters of the\nKing, to-night once more shall we await you here.\"\n\nAnd all the princesses turned, and, waving their white hands, cried\nsleepily, \"Farewell, farewell.\"\n\nLittle did the sisters dream as they loitered homeward, that the soldier\nran past them, reached the castle, and climbed the staircase that led to\nhis little bedroom. When, slowly and wearily, they reached the door of\nthe hall where they slept, they heard loud snores coming from his room.\n\"Ah, safe once more!\" they exclaimed, and they undid their silk gowns,\nand their ribbons and jewels, and kicked off their little worn-out\nshoes. Then each went to her white bed, and in less than a minute was\nsound asleep.\n\nThe next morning the soldier told nothing of his wonderful adventure,\nfor he thought he would like again to follow the princesses in their\nwanderings. And this he did a second and a third time, and each night\nthe twelve sisters danced until their slippers were riddled with holes.\nThe third night the soldier carried off a goblet, as a sign that he had\nvisited the castle across the lake.\n\nWhen next day he was brought before the King, to tell where the twelve\ndancing princesses held their night-frolic, the soldier took with him\nthe twig with its silver leaves, the twig with its leaves of gold, and\nthe twig whose leaves were of diamonds. He took, too, the goblet.\n\n\"If you would live, young man,\" said the King, \"answer me this: How\ncomes it that my daughters' slippers, morning after morning are danced\ninto holes? Tell me, where have the princesses spent the three last\nnights?\"\n\n\"With twelve princes in an underground castle,\" was the unexpected\nreply.\n\nAnd when the soldier told his story, and held up the three twigs and the\ngoblet to prove the truth of what he said, the King sent for his\ndaughters.\n\nIn the twelve sisters tripped, with no pity in their hearts for \"the old\nsnorer,\" as they called the soldier; but when their eyes fell upon the\ntwigs and the goblet they all turned white as lilies, for they knew that\ntheir secret night-frolics were now at an end for ever.\n\n\"Tell your tale,\" said the King to the soldier. But before he could\nspeak, the princesses wrung their hands, crying, \"Alack! alack!\" and\ntheir father knew that at last he had discovered their secret.\n\nThen turning to the soldier, the King said: \"You have indeed won your\nprize. Which of my daughters do you choose as your wife?\"\n\n\"I am no longer young,\" replied the soldier. \"Let me marry the eldest\nprincess.\"\n\nSo that very day the wedding bells pealed loud and far, and a few years\nlater the old soldier and his bride were proclaimed King and Queen.\n\n\n\n\nEDWY AND THE ECHO\n\n\nIt was in the time of good Queen Anne, when none of the trees in the\ngreat forest of Norwood, near London, had begun to be cut down, that a\nvery rich gentleman and lady lived in that neighborhood. Their name was\nLawley, and they had a fine old house and large garden with a wall all\nround it. The woods were so close to this garden that some of the high\ntrees spread their branches over the top of the wall.\n\nNow this lady and gentleman were very proud and very grand. They\ndespised all people poorer than themselves, and there were none whom\nthey despised more than the gypsies, who lived in the forest round about\nthem.\n\nThere was no place in all England then so full of gypsies as the forest\nof Norwood.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Lawley had been married many years without having children.\nAt length they had a son, whom they called Edwy. They could not make\nenough of their only child or dress him too finely.\n\nWhen he was just old enough to run about without help, he used to wear\nhis trousers inlaid with the finest lace, with golden studs and laced\nrobings. He had a plume of feathers in his cap, which was of velvet,\nwith a button of gold to fasten it up in front under the feathers. He\nlooked so fine that whoever saw him with the servants who attended him\nused to say, \"Whose child is that?\"\n\nHe was a pretty boy, too, and when his first sorrow came he was still\ntoo young to have learned any proud ways.\n\nNo one is so rich as to be above the reach of trouble, and when at last\nit came to Mr. and Mrs. Lawley it was all the more terrible.\n\nOne day the proud parents had been away some hours visiting a friend a\nfew miles distant. On their return Edwy was nowhere to be found. His\nwaiting-maid was gone, and had taken away his finest clothes. At least,\nthese also were missing.\n\nThe poor father and mother were almost beside themselves with grief. All\nthe gentlemen and magistrates round about helped in the search and tried\nto discover who had stolen him. But it was all in vain. Of course the\ngypsies were suspected and well examined, but nothing could be made of\nit.\n\nNor was it ever found out how the child had been carried off. But\ncarried off he had been by the gypsies, and taken away to a country\namong hills between Worcester and Hereford.\n\nIn that country was a valley with a river running deep at the bottom.\nThere were many trees and bushes, rocks and caves and holes there.\nIndeed, it was the best possible place for the haunt of wild people.\n\nTo this place the gypsies carried the little boy, and there they kept\nhim all the following winter, warm in a hut with some of their own\nchildren.\n\nThey stripped him of his velvet and feathers and lace and golden clasps\nand studs, and clothed him in rags and daubed his fair skin with mud.\nBut they fed him well, and after a little while he was quite happy and\ncontented.\n\nPerhaps the cunning gypsies hoped that during the long months of winter\nthe child would quite forget the few words he had learned to speak\ndistinctly in his father's house. They thought he would forget to call\nhimself Edwy, or to cry, \"Oh, mamma, mamma, papa, papa! come to little\nEdwy!\" as he so often did. They taught him that his name was not Edwy,\nbut Jack, or Tom, or some such name. And they made him say \"mam\" and\n\"dad\" and call himself the gypsy boy, born in a barn.\n\nBut after he had learned all these words, whenever anything hurt or\nfrightened him, he would cry again, \"Mamma, papa, come to Edwy!\"\n\nThe gypsies could not take him out with them while there was a danger of\nhis crying like that. So he never went with them on their rounds of\nbegging and buying rags and telling fortunes. Instead, he was left in\nthe hut, in the valley, with some big girl or old woman to look after\nhim.\n\nIt happened one day, in the month of May, that Edwy was left as usual in\nthe hut. He had been up before sunrise to breakfast with those who were\ngoing out for their day's begging and stealing. After they had left, he\nhad fallen asleep on a bed of dry leaves. Only one old woman, who was\ntoo lame to tramp, was left with him.\n\nHe slept long, and when he awoke he sat up on his bed of leaves and\nlooked about him to see who was with him. He saw no one within the hut,\nand no one at the doorway.\n\nLittle children do not like to be quite alone. Edwy listened to hear if\nthere were any voices outside, but he heard nothing but the rush of a\nwaterfall close by, and the distant cry of sheep and lambs. The next\nthing the little one did was to get up and go out at the door of the\nhut.\n\nThe hut was built of rude rafters in the front of a cave or hole in the\nrock. It was low down in the glen, at the edge of the brook, a little\nbelow the waterfall. When the child came out he looked anxiously for\nsomebody, and was more and more frightened when he could find no one at\nall.\n\nThe old woman must have been close at hand although out of sight, but\nshe was deaf, and did not hear the noise made by the child when he came\nout of the hut.\n\nEdwy did not remember how long he stood by the brook, but this is\ncertain, that the longer he felt himself to be alone the more frightened\nhe became. Then he began to fancy terrible things. At the top of the\nrock from which the waters fell there was a huge old yew-tree, or rather\nbush, which hung forward over the fall. It looked very black in\ncomparison with the tender green of the other trees, and the white,\nglittering spray of the water.\n\nEdwy looked at it and fancied that it moved. His eye was deceived by the\ndancing motion of the water. While he looked and looked, some great\nblack bird came out from the midst of it, uttering a harsh, croaking\nsound.\n\nThe little boy could bear no more. He turned away from the terrible bush\nand the terrible bird, and ran down the valley, leaving hut and all\nbehind. And, as he ran, he cried, as he always did when hurt or\nfrightened, \"Papa, mamma! oh, come! oh, come to Edwy!\"\n\nHe ran and ran while his little bare feet were bruised with pebbles, and\nhis legs torn with briers. Very soon he came to where the valley became\nnarrower and the rocks and banks higher on either side. The brook ran\nalong between, and a path went in a line with the brook; but this path\nwas only used by the gypsies and a few poor cottagers, and was but a\nlonely road.\n\nAs Edwy ran he still cried, \"Mamma, mamma, papa, papa! oh, come! oh,\ncome to Edwy!\" And he kept up this cry from time to time, till his young\nvoice began to be returned in a sort of hollow murmur.\n\nWhen first he noticed this, he was even more frightened than before. He\nstood and looked round. Then he turned with his back toward the hut and\nran and ran again until he got deeper in among the rocks. Then he\nstopped again, for the high black banks frightened him still more, and\nsetting up his young voice he called again as he had done before.\n\nHe had scarcely finished his cry, when a voice seemed to answer him. It\nsaid, \"Come, come to Edwy!\" It said it once, it said it twice, it said\nit a third time. But it seemed each time more distant.\n\nThe child looked up and down, and all around, and in his terror he cried\nmore loudly, \"Oh, papa, mamma! come, come to poor Edwy!\"\n\nIt was an echo, the echo of the rocks which repeated the words of the\nchild. The more loudly he spoke, the more perfect was the echo. But he\ncould only catch the last few words, and this time he only heard, \"Poor,\npoor Edwy!\"\n\nEdwy still dimly remembered a far-away happy home, and kind parents,\nand now he believed that what the echo said came from them. They were\ncalling to him, and saying, \"Poor, poor Edwy!\" But where could they be?\nWere they in the caves, or at the top of the rocks, or in the blue\nbright heavens?\n\nHe looked at the rocks and the sky, and down among the reeds and sedges\nand alders by the side of the brook, but he could find no one.\n\nAfter a while he called again, and called louder still.\n\n\"Come, come,\" was the cry again, \"Edwy is lost! lost! lost!\"\n\nEcho repeated the last words as before, \"Lost! lost! lost!\" and now the\nvoice sounded from behind him, for he had moved round a corner of a\nrock.\n\nThe child heard the voice behind, and turned and ran that way. Then he\nstopped and heard it again in the opposite direction. Next he shrieked\nfrom fear, and echo returned the shriek, finishing up with broken sounds\nwhich to Edwy's ears seemed as if some one a long way off was mocking\nhim. His terror was now at its highest, and he did not know what to do,\nor where to go. Turning round, he began once more to run down the\nvalley, and every step took him nearer the mouth of the glen and the\nentrance to the great highroad.\n\nAnd who had been driving along that road, in a fine carriage with four\nhorses, but Edwy's own papa and mamma!\n\nMr. and Mrs. Lawley had given up all hopes of finding their little boy\nnear Norwood, and they had set out in their coach to go all over the\ncountry in search of him. They had come the day before to a town near to\nthe place where the gypsies had kept Edwy all the winter. There they had\nmade many inquiries, and asked about the gypsies who were to be found in\nthat country. But people were afraid of the gypsies, and did not like to\nsay anything which might bring trouble upon themselves.\n\nThe poor father and mother, therefore, could get no news there, and the\nnext morning they came across the country, and along the road into which\nthe gypsies' valley opened.\n\nWherever these unhappy parents saw a wild country full of woods, they\nthought, if possible, more than ever of their lost child, and Mrs.\nLawley would begin to weep. Indeed, she had done little else since she\nlost her boy.\n\nThe travelers first caught sight of the gypsies' valley as the coach\narrived at the top of a high hill. The descent on the other side was so\nsteep that it was thought right to put a drag on the wheels.\n\nMr. Lawley suggested that they should get out and walk down the hill, so\nthe coach stopped and every one got down from it. Mr. Lawley walked\nfirst, followed closely by his servant William, and Mrs. Lawley came\nafter, leaning on the arm of her favorite little maid Barbara.\n\n\"Oh, Barbara!\" said Mrs. Lawley, when the others were gone forward,\n\"when I remember all the pretty ways of my boy, and think of his lovely\nface and gentle temper, and of the way in which I lost him, my heart is\nready to break.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear mistress,\" answered the little maid, \"who knows but that our\ngrief may soon be at an end and we may find him yet and all will be\nwell.\"\n\nMr. Lawley walked on before with the servant. He too was thinking of his\nboy as he looked up the wild lonely valley. He saw a raven rise from the\nwood and heard its croaking noise--it was perhaps the same black bird\nthat had frightened Edwy.\n\nWilliam remarked to his master that there was a sound of falling water\nand that there must be brooks running into the valley. Mr. Lawley,\nhowever, was too sad to talk to his servant. He could only say, \"I don't\ndoubt it,\" and then they both walked on in silence.\n\nThey came to the bottom of the valley even before the carriage got\nthere. They found that the brook crossed the road in that place, and\nthat the road was carried over it by a little stone bridge.\n\nMr. Lawley stopped upon the bridge. He leaned on the low wall, and\nlooked upon the dark mouth of the glen, William stood a little behind\nhim.\n\nWilliam was young, and his sense of hearing was very quick. As he stood\nthere he thought he heard a voice, but the rattling of the coach-wheels\nover the stony road prevented his hearing it distinctly. He heard the\ncry again, but the coach was coming nearer, and made it still more\ndifficult for him to catch the sound.\n\nHis master was surprised the next moment to see him jump over the low\nparapet of the bridge and run up the narrow path which led to the glen.\n\nIt was the voice of Edwy and the answering echo which William had heard.\nHe had got just far enough away from the sound of the coach-wheels at\nthe moment when the echo returned poor little Edwy's wildest shriek.\n\nThe sound was fearful and unnatural, but William was not easily put out.\nHe looked back to his master, and his look made Mr. Lawley at once leave\nthe bridge and follow him, though hardly knowing why.\n\nThey both went up the glen, the man being some way in front of his\nmaster. Another cry and another answering echo again reached the ear of\nWilliam. The young man once more looked round at his master and ran on.\nThe last cry had been heard by Mr. Lawley, who followed as quickly as he\ncould. But, as the valley turned and turned among the rocks, he soon\nlost sight of his servant.\n\nVery soon Mr. Lawley came to the very place where the echo had most\nastonished Edwy, because the sound had seemed to come from opposite\nsides. Here he heard the cry again, and heard it distinctly. It was the\nvoice of a child crying, \"No! no! no! papa! mamma! Oh, come! oh, come!\"\nand then a fearful shriek or laugh of some wild woman's voice.\n\nMr. Lawley rushed on, winding in and out between the rocks. Different\nvoices, all repeated in strange confusion by the echoes, rang in his\nears. But amid all these sounds he thought only of that one sad cry,\n\"Papa! mamma! Oh, come! oh, come!\"\n\nSuddenly he came out to where he saw his servant again, and with him an\nold woman who looked like a witch. She held the hand of a little ragged\nchild very firmly, though the baby struggled hard to get free, crying,\n\"Papa! mamma! Oh, come! oh, come!\"\n\nWilliam was talking earnestly to the woman, and had got hold of the\nother hand of the child.\n\nMr. Lawley rushed on, trembling with hope and fear. Could this boy be\nhis Edwy? William had entered his service since he had lost his child\nand could not therefore know the boy. He himself could not be sure--so\nstrange, so altered did the baby look.\n\nBut Edwy knew his own papa in a moment. He could not run to meet him,\nfor he was tightly held by the gypsy, but he cried, \"Oh, papa! papa is\ncome to Edwy!\"\n\nThe old woman knew Mr. Lawley, and saw that the child knew him. She had\nbeen trying to persuade William that the boy was her grandchild. But it\nwas no use now. She let the child's hand go, and, while he was flying to\nhis father's arms, she disappeared into some well-known hole or hollow\nin the neighboring rocks.\n\nWho can describe the feelings of the father when he felt the arms of his\nlong-lost boy clinging round his neck, and the little heart beating\nagainst his own? Or who could say what the mother felt when she saw her\nhusband come out from the mouth of the valley, bearing in his arms the\nlittle ragged child? Could this be her own baby, her Edwy? She could\nhardly be sure of her happiness till the boy held out his arms to her\nand cried, \"Mamma! mamma!\"\n\nBefore they got into the coach the happy parents knelt down upon the\ngrass to thank God for his goodness. There was no pride now in their\nhearts and they never forgot the lesson they had learned.\n\nIn their beautiful home at Norwood they were soon as much loved and\nrespected as they had been feared and disliked. Even the gypsies in time\nbecame their faithful friends, and Edwy was as safe in the forest as in\nhis own garden at home.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE OLD WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A VINEGAR-BOTTLE\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a little old woman who lived in a\nvinegar-bottle. One day, as she was sweeping out her house, she found a\nsilver coin, and she thought she should like to buy a fish.\n\nSo off she went to the place where the fishermen were casting their\nnets. When she got there the nets had just been drawn up, and there was\nonly one little fish in them. So the fishermen let her have that for her\nsilver piece.\n\nBut, as she was carrying it home, the little fish opened its mouth and\nsaid: \"Pray, good woman, throw me into the water again. I am but a very\nlittle fish, and I shall make you a very poor supper. Pray, good woman,\nthrow me into the water again!\"\n\nSo the little old woman had pity on the little fish, and threw it into\nthe water.\n\nBut hardly had she done so before the water began to bubble and a little\nfairy stood beside her. \"My good woman,\" she said, \"I am the little fish\nyou threw into the water, and, as you were so kind to me when I was in\ntrouble, I promise to give you anything that you wish for.\"\n\nThen the little old woman thanked the fairy very much, but said she did\nnot want for anything. She lived in a nice little vinegar-bottle with a\nladder to go up and down, and had all she wished for.\n\n\"Well,\" said the fairy, \"if at any time you want anything, you have only\nto come to the waterside and call 'Fairy, fairy,' and I shall appear, to\nanswer you.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and she lay awake all night trying to\nthink of something she wanted. And the next morning she went to the\nwaterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the water bubbled, and the\nlittle fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You were so kind, ma'am, as to\npromise that you would give me anything I wished for, because I threw\nyou into the water when you were but a little fish. Now, if you please,\nma'am, I should like a little cottage. For you must know I live in a\nvinegar-bottle, and I find it very tiresome to have to go up and down a\nladder every time I go in and out of my house.\"\n\n\"Go home and you shall have one,\" said the fairy.\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she found a nice\nwhitewashed cottage, with roses climbing round the windows.\n\nShe was very happy, and thought she would never want anything more; but\nafter a while she grew discontented again.\n\nSo back she went to the waterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the\nwater bubbled, and the little fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house, and now, if you please, ma'am, I would like some new\nfurniture. For the furniture I had in the vinegar-bottle looks very\nshabby now that it is in the pretty little cottage.\"\n\n\"Go home and you shall have some,\" said the fairy.\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she found her cottage\nfilled with nice new furniture, a stool and table, a neat little\nfour-post bed with blue-and-white checked curtains, and an armchair\ncovered with flowered chintz.\n\nShe was very happy, and thought she would never want anything more; but\nafter a while she grew discontented again.\n\nSo back she went to the waterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the\nwater bubbled, and the little fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house and furniture, and now, if you please, ma'am, I would\nlike some new clothes. For I find that the clothes I wore in the\nvinegar-bottle are not nearly good enough for the mistress of such a\npretty little cottage.\"\n\nThen the fairy said, \"Go home and you shall have some.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she found all her old\nclothes changed to new ones. There was a silk dress and a flowered\napron, and a grand lace cap and high-heeled shoes.\n\nWell, she was very happy, and she thought she should never want anything\nmore; but after a while she grew discontented again.\n\nSo back she went to the waterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the\nwater bubbled, and the little fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house and furniture and clothes; and now, if you please, I\nshould like a maid. For I find when I have to do the work of the house\nthat my new clothes get very dirty.\"\n\nThen the fairy said, \"Go home and you shall have one.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she found at the door a\nneat little maid with a broom in her hand, all ready to sweep the floor.\n\nThis made her very happy, and she thought she would never want anything\nmore; but after a while she grew discontented again.\n\nSo back she went to the waterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the\nwater bubbled, and the little fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house and furniture, and clothes, and a maid; and now, if\nyou please, I should like a pony. For when I go out walking my new\nclothes get very much splashed with the mud.\"\n\nThen the fairy said, \"Go home and you shall have one.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she saw at the door a\nlittle pony all ready bridled and saddled for her to ride.\n\nShe was very happy, and thought she would never want anything more; but\nafter a while she grew discontented again.\n\nSo back she went to the waterside and called \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the\nwater bubbled, and the little fairy stood beside her.\n\n\"What do you want, my good woman?\" she said.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house and furniture, and clothes, and a maid, and a pony;\nand now, if you please, ma'am, I should like a covered cart. For I find\nthat my new clothes get quite as muddy riding as walking.\"\n\nThen the fairy said, \"Go home and you will find one.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and there she found her pony\nharnessed into a nice little covered cart.\n\nShe had hardly seen the cart, when back she ran to the waterside,\ncalling \"Fairy, fairy\"; and the water bubbled, and the little fairy\nstood beside her.\n\n\"What _do_ you want, good woman?\" said she.\n\nAnd the little old woman answered: \"You have been very kind, ma'am, in\ngiving me a house and furniture, and clothes, and a maid, and a pony and\na cart; but now, if you please, ma'am, I should like a coach and six.\nFor it is like all the farmers' wives to ride about in a cart.\"\n\nThen the fairy said: \"Oh, you discontented little old woman! The more I\ngive you, the more you want. Go back to your vinegar-bottle.\"\n\nSo the little old woman went home, and she found everything gone--her\ncart, and her pony, and her maid, and her clothes, and her furniture,\nand her house. Nothing remained but the little old vinegar-bottle, with\nthe ladder to get up the side.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNOW QUEEN\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little boy called Kay. And there was a\nlittle girl. Her name was Gerda.\n\nThey were not brother and sister, this little boy and girl, but they\nlived in tiny attics next door to one another.\n\nWhen they were not playing together, Gerda spent her time peeping at\nKay, through one of the little panes in her window. And Kay peeped back\nat Gerda.\n\nOutside each attic was a tiny balcony, just big enough to hold two\nlittle stools and a window-box. Often Gerda would step out of her attic\nwindow into the balcony, carrying with her a three-legged wooden stool.\nThen she would climb over the low wall that separated her from Kay.\n\nAnd there in Kay's balcony the two children would sit and play together,\nor tell fairy tales, or tend the flowers that bloomed so gaily in the\nwindow-box.\n\nAt other times it was Kay who would bound over the low wall into Gerda's\nbalcony, and there, too, the little boy and girl were as happy as though\nthey had been in Fairyland.\n\nIn each little window-box grew a rose-bush, and the bloom and the scent\nof the red roses they bore gave Kay and Gerda more delight than you can\nimagine; and all her life long a red rose remained little Gerda's\nfavorite flower.\n\nBut it was not always summer-time, and when cold, frosty winter came,\nand the Snow Queen sailed down on the large white snowflakes from a gray\nsky, then no flowers bloomed in the window-boxes. And the balcony was so\nslippery that the children dared not venture to step out of their attic\nwindows, but had to run down one long flight of stairs and up another to\nbe able to play together.\n\nSometimes, though, Kay stayed in his own little room and Gerda stayed\nin hers, gazing and gazing at the lovely pictures of castles, and\nmountains, and sea, and flowers that the Snow Queen had drawn on the\nwindow-panes as she passed.\n\nBut now that the little panes of glass were covered with pictures, how\ncould Kay and Gerda peep at each other from the attic windows?\n\nAh, they had a plan, and a very good plan, too. Kay would heat a penny\non the stove, and then press it against the window-pane, and so make\nlittle round peep-holes. Then he would put his eye to one of these\nlittle rounds and--what did he see? A bright black eye peeping from\nGerda's attic, for she, too, had heated a penny and made peep-holes in\nher window.\n\nIt was in winter, too, when the children could not play together on the\nbalcony, that Gerda's grandmother told them stories of the Snow Queen.\n\nOne night, as Kay was undressing to go to bed, he climbed on a chair and\npeeped out of one of his little round holes, and there, on the edge of\nthe window-box, were a few big snowflakes. And as the little boy watched\nthem, the biggest grew bigger and bigger, until it grew into a white\nlady of glittering, dazzling ice. Her eyes shone like two bright stars.\n\n\"It must be the Snow Queen,\" thought Kay, and at that moment the white\nlady nodded to him, and waved her hand, and as he jumped from his chair,\nhe fancied she flew past the window. \"It must be the Snow Queen.\" Would\nhe ever see her again?\n\nAt last the white winter melted away and green spring burst upon the\nearth. Then once more summer--warm, bright, beautiful summer.\n\nIt was at five o'clock, one sunny afternoon, that Kay and Gerda sat\ntogether on their little stools in the balcony, looking at a\npicture-book.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Kay suddenly, \"oh, there is something sharp in my eye, and I\nhave such a pain in my heart!\"\n\nGerda put her arms round Kay's neck and looked into his eye.\n\n\"I can see nothing, Kay dear.\"\n\n\"Oh! it is gone now,\" said the boy, and they turned again to the\npicture-book.\n\nBut something had flown into Kay's eye, and it was not gone; a little\nbit had reached his heart, and it was still there. Listen, and I will\ntell you what had happened.\n\nThere was about this time a most marvelous mirror in the world. It\nbelonged to the worst hobgoblin that ever lived, and had been made by\nhis wicked little demons.\n\nThose who looked into this mirror saw reflected there all the mean and\nugly people and things in the world, and not one beautiful sight could\nthey see. And the thoughts of those who looked into this mirror became\nas mean and ugly as the people and things they saw.\n\nThis delighted the hobgoblin, who ordered his little demons to carry the\nmirror all over the world and to do as much mischief with it as they\ncould.\n\nBut one day, when they had traveled far, the mirror slipped from the\nhands of the little imps, and fell to earth, shivered into hundreds of\nthousands of millions of bits. Then it did more harm than ever, for\nthe tiny pieces, some no bigger than a grain of sand, were blown all\nover the world, and often flew in people's eyes, and sometimes even\nfound their way into their hearts.\n\n [Illustration: \"THEY FLEW UP AND UP ON A DARK CLOUD\"]\n\nAnd when a big person or a child had a little bit of this magic mirror\nin his eye, he saw only what was mean and ugly; and if the tiniest grain\nof the glass reached his heart, alas! alas! it froze all the kindness\nand gentleness and love that was there, and the heart became like a lump\nof ice.\n\nThis is what had happened to poor little Kay. One tiny bit of the magic\nmirror had flown into his eye; another had entered his heart.\n\n\"How horrid you look, Gerda. Why are you crying? And oh, see the worm in\nthat rose. Roses are ugly, and so are window-boxes.\" And Kay kicked the\nwindow-box, and knocked two roses from the rose-bush.\n\n\"Kay dear, what is the matter?\" asked Gerda.\n\nThe little boy did not answer, but broke off another rose, and then,\nwithout saying good-by, stepped in at his own window, leaving Gerda\nalone.\n\nThe next time the little girl brought out the picture-book, Kay tore the\nleaves, and when the grandmother told them a story, he interrupted her\nand made ugly faces. And he would tread on Gerda's toes and pull her\nhair, and make faces at her, too.\n\n\"How cruel little Kay grows,\" said his friends; for he mocked the old\npeople and ill-treated those who were weak. And all through the blue\nsummer and the yellow autumn Kay teased little Gerda, or left her that\nhe might play with the bigger children in the town.\n\nBut it was when winter came, and the big white snowflakes once more fell\nfrom a gray sky, that Gerda felt loneliest, for Kay now drew on his\nthick gloves, slung his little sledge across his back, and marched off\nalone. \"I am going to ride in the square,\" he shouted in her ear as he\npassed. But Gerda could not answer; she could only think of the winters\nthat had gone, when she and Kay always sat side by side in that same\nlittle sledge. How happy they had been! Oh, why, why had he not taken\nher with him?\n\nKay walked briskly to the square, and there he watched the bolder of the\nboys tie their sledges to the farmers' carts. With what glee they felt\nthemselves being drawn over the snow-covered ground! When they reached\nthe town gates they would jump out, unfasten their sledges, and return\nto the square to begin the fun all over again.\n\nKay was thinking how much he would like to tie his little sledge behind\na cart, when a big sledge, painted white, drove by. In it sat some one\nmuffled in a white fur coat and cap. Twice the sledge drove round the\nsquare.\n\nAs it passed Kay the second time, he quickly fastened on his little\nsledge behind, and in a moment found himself flying through the streets.\nWhat fun! On and on through snowdrifts, bounding over ditches, rushing\ndown hills, faster and faster they flew.\n\nLittle Kay grew frightened. Twice he tried to unfasten the string that\ntied his sledge to the other, but both times the white driver turned\nround and nodded to him to sit still. At last they had driven through\nthe town gates. The snow fell so heavily that it blinded him. Now he\ncould not see where they were going, and Kay grew more frightened still.\nHe tried to say his prayers, but could only remember the multiplication\ntable. Bigger and bigger grew the snowflakes, till they seemed like\nlarge white birds. Then, suddenly, the sledge stopped. The driver stood\nup. She was a tall lady, dazzlingly white. Her eyes shone like two\nstars. She was the Snow Queen.\n\n\"It is cold,\" said the white lady; \"come into my sledge. Now, creep\ninside my furs.\"\n\nKay did as he was told, but he felt as if he had fallen into a\nsnowdrift.\n\n\"You are still cold,\" said the Snow Queen, and she kissed his forehead.\nHer lips were like ice, and Kay shivered and felt the old pain at his\nheart. But only for a minute, for the Snow Queen kissed him again,\nand then he forgot the pain, and he forgot Gerda, and he forgot his\ngrandmother and his old home, and had not a thought for anything or any\none but the Snow Queen.\n\nHe had no fear of her now, no, not although they flew up and up on a\ndark cloud, away over woods and lakes, over rivers, islands, and seas.\nNo, he was not afraid, although the cold wind whistled around them, and\nbeneath the wild wolves howled. Kay did not care.\n\nAbove them the moon shone bright and clear. All night long the boy would\ngaze at it and the twinkling stars, but by day he slept at the feet of\nthe Snow Queen.\n\n * * *\n\nBut what of little Gerda?\n\nPoor child, she watched and she waited and she wondered, but Kay did not\ncome, and nobody could tell her where he was. The boys had seen him\ndrive out of the town gates behind a big sledge painted white. But no\none had heard of him since.\n\nLittle Gerda cried bitterly. Perhaps Kay was drowned in the river. Oh,\nwhat a long, cold winter that was! But spring came at last, bright\nspring with its golden sunshine and its singing birds.\n\n\"Kay is dead,\" said Gerda.\n\n\"Kay dead? It is not true,\" said the sunshine.\n\n\"Kay dead? We do not believe it,\" twittered the swallows.\n\nAnd neither did little Gerda believe it.\n\n\"I will put on my new red shoes,\" said the child one morning, \"and go to\nthe river and ask it about Kay.\" So she put on her little red shoes, and\nkissed her old grandmother who was still asleep, and wandered alone, out\nbeyond the town gates, and down to the river-bank.\n\n\"Have you taken my little playfellow?\" she asked. \"I will give you these\nif you will bring him back to me,\" and she flung her little shoes into\nthe river.\n\nThey fell close to the bank and the little waves tossed them back on to\nthe dry pebbles at her feet. \"We do not want you, we will keep Kay,\"\nthey seemed to say.\n\n\"Perhaps I did not throw them far enough,\" thought Gerda; and, stepping\ninto a boat that lay among the rushes, she flung the red shoes with all\nher might into the middle of the river.\n\nBut the boat was not fastened and it glided out from among the rushes.\nSoon it was drifting faster and faster down the river. The little shoes\nfloated behind.\n\n\"Perhaps I am going to little Kay,\" thought Gerda, as she was carried\nfarther and farther down the river. How pretty it was! Trees waved and\nflowers nodded on its banks. Sheep grazed and cattle browsed, but not\none soul, big or little, was to be seen.\n\nAfter a long time Gerda came to a cherry-garden which stretched down to\nthe river-bank. At the end of this garden stood a tiny cottage with a\nthatched roof, and with red, blue, and yellow glass windows.\n\nOn either side of the door stood a wooden soldier. Gerda thought the\nsoldiers were alive, and shouted to them.\n\nThe wooden soldiers, of course, did not hear, but an old, old woman, who\nlived in the tiny house, wondered who it could be that called. She\nhobbled out, leaning on her hooked stick. On her head she wore a big\nsun-hat, and on it were painted beautiful flowers.\n\n\"You poor child,\" said the old, old woman, walking straight into the\nriver, and catching hold of the boat with her hooked stick; \"you poor\ndear!\" And she pulled the boat ashore and lifted out little Gerda on to\nthe green grass.\n\nGerda was delighted to be on dry land again, but she was a little bit\nafraid of the old, old woman, who now asked her who she was and where\nshe came from.\n\n\"I am looking for Kay, little Kay. Have you seen him?\" began Gerda, and\nshe went on to tell the old, old woman the whole story of her playmate\nand his strange disappearance. When she had finished, she asked again,\n\"Have you seen him?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the old, old woman, \"but I expect him. Come in,\" and she took\nlittle Gerda by the hand. \"Come to my house and taste my cherries.\" And\nwhen they had gone into the cottage, the old, old woman locked the door.\nThen she gave Gerda a plate of the most delicious cherries, and while\nthe little girl ate them, the old, old woman combed her hair with a\ngolden comb.\n\nNow this old, old woman was a witch, and the comb was a magic comb, for\nas soon as it touched her hair, Gerda forgot all about Kay. And this was\njust what the witch wished, for she was a lonely old woman, and would\nhave liked Gerda to become her own little girl and stay with her always.\n\nGerda did enjoy the red cherries, and, while she was still eating them,\nthe old, old woman stole out to the garden and waved her hooked stick\nover the rose-bushes and they quickly sank beneath the brown earth.\nFor Gerda had told her how fond Kay had once been of their little\nrose-bushes in the balcony, and the witch was afraid the sight of roses\nwould remind the little girl of her lost playmate. But now that the\nroses had vanished, Gerda might come into the garden.\n\nHow the child danced for joy past the lilies and bluebells, how she\nsuddenly fell on her knees to smell the pinks and mignonette, and then\ndanced off again, in and out among the sunflowers and hollyhocks!\n\nGerda was perfectly happy now, and played among the flowers until the\nsun sank behind the cherry-trees. Then the old, old woman again took her\nby the hand, and led her to the little house. And she undressed her and\nput her into a little bed of white violets, and there the little girl\ndreamed sweet dreams.\n\nThe next day and the next again and for many more Gerda played among the\nflowers in the garden.\n\nOne morning, as the old woman sat near, Gerda looked at her hat with the\nwonderful painted flowers. Prettiest of all was a rose.\n\n\"A rose! Why, surely I have seen none in the garden,\" thought Gerda, and\nshe danced off in search.\n\nBut she could find none, and in her disappointment hot tears fell. And\nthey fell on the very spot where the roses had grown, and as soon as\nthe warm drops moistened the earth, the rose-bushes sprang up.\n\n\"You are beautiful, beautiful,\" she said; but in a moment the tears fell\nagain, for she thought of the rose-bushes in the balcony, and she\nremembered Kay.\n\n\"Oh Kay, dear, dear Kay, is he dead?\" she asked the roses.\n\n\"No, he is not dead,\" they answered, \"for we have been beneath the brown\nearth, and he is not there.\"\n\n\"Then where, oh, where is he?\" and she went from flower to flower\nwhispering, \"Have you seen little Kay?\"\n\nBut the flowers stood in the sunshine, dreaming their own dreams, and\nthese they told the little maiden gladly, but of Kay they could not tell\nher, for they knew nothing.\n\nThen the little girl ran down the garden path until she came to the\ngarden gate. She pressed the rusty latch. The gate flew open, and Gerda\nran out on her little bare feet into the green fields. And she ran, and\nshe ran, until she could run no longer. Then she sat down on a big stone\nto rest.\n\n\"Why, it must be autumn,\" she said sorrowfully, as she looked around.\nAnd little Gerda felt sorry that she had stayed so long in the magic\ngarden, where it was always summer.\n\n\"Why have I not been seeking little Kay?\" she asked herself, and she\njumped up and trudged along, on and on, out into the great wide world.\n\n * * *\n\nAt last the cold white winter came again, and still little Gerda was\nwandering alone through the wide world, for she had not found little\nKay.\n\n\"Caw, caw,\" said a big raven that hopped on the stone in front of her.\n\"Caw, caw.\"\n\n\"Have you seen little Kay?\" asked Gerda, and she told the bird her sad\nstory.\n\n\"It may have been Kay,\" said the raven, \"I cannot tell. But if it was,\nhe will have forgotten you now that he lives with the princess.\"\n\n\"Does he live with a princess?\" asked Gerda.\n\n\"Yes, he does. If you care to listen, I will tell you how it came about.\nIn this kingdom lives a princess so clever that she has read all the\nnewspapers in the world, and forgotten them again. Last winter she made\nup her mind to marry. Her husband, she said, must speak well. He must\nknow the proper thing to say, and say it prettily. Otherwise she would\nnot marry. I assure you what I say is perfectly true, for I have a tame\nsweetheart who lives at court, and she told me the whole story.\n\n\"One day it was published in the newspapers that any handsome young man\nmight go to the palace to speak to the princess. The one who spoke most\nprettily and answered most wisely should be chosen as her husband. What\na stir there was! Young men flocked to the palace in crowds, chattering\nas they came. But when they saw the great staircase, and the soldiers\nin their silver uniform, and the grand ladies in velvet and lace, they\ncould only talk in whispers. And when they were led before the beautiful\nprincess, who was seated on a pearl as big as a spinning-wheel, they\nwere silent. She spoke to them, but they could think of nothing to say,\nso they repeated her last words over and over again. The princess did\nnot like that, and she----\"\n\n\"But Kay, little Kay, did he come?\" interrupted Gerda.\n\n\"You are in too great a hurry,\" said the raven; \"I am just coming to\nthat. On the third day came a boy with sparkling eyes and golden hair,\nbut his clothes were shabby. He----\"\n\n\"Oh, that would be Kay. Dear, dear Kay, I have found him at last.\"\n\n\"He had a knapsack on his back, and----\"\n\n\"No, it must have been a sledge,\" again interrupted Gerda.\n\n\"I said he had a knapsack on his back, and he wore boots that creaked,\nbut----\"\n\n\"Oh, then it must be Kay, for he had new boots. I heard them creak\nthrough our attic wall when----\"\n\n\"Little girl, do not interrupt, but listen to me. He wore boots that\ncreaked, but even that did not frighten him. He creaked up the great\nstaircase, he passed the soldiers in silver uniform, he bowed to the\nladies in velvet and lace, and still he was quite at his ease. And when\nhe was led before the beautiful princess who was seated on a pearl as\nbig as a spinning-wheel, he answered so prettily and spoke so wisely\nthat she chose him as her husband.\"\n\n\"Indeed, indeed it was Kay,\" said little Gerda. \"He was so clever. He\ncould do arithmetic up to long division. Oh, take me to him.\"\n\n\"I will see what can be done,\" said the raven. \"I will talk about it to\nmy tame sweetheart. She will certainly be able to advise us. Wait here\nby the stile,\" and the raven wagged his head and flew off.\n\nIt was growing dark before he returned. \"Here is a roll my tame\nsweetheart sent you. 'The little maiden must be hungry,' she said.\nAs for your going to the palace with those bare feet--the thing is\nimpossible. The soldiers in silver uniform would not let you go up\nthe great stair. But do not cry. My sweetheart knows a little back\nstaircase. She will take you to the prince and princess. Follow me.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"'YOU POOR CHILD,' SAID THE OLD WOMAN, WALKING STRAIGHT\n INTO THE RIVER\"]\n\nOn tiptoe little Gerda followed the raven, as he hopped across the\nsnow-covered field and up the long avenue that led to the palace garden.\nAnd in the garden they waited silently until the last light had gone\nout. Then they turned along the bare walk that led to the back door. It\nstood wide open.\n\nOh, how little Gerda's heart beat, as on the tips of her little bare\ntoes she followed the raven up the dimly lighted back staircase!\n\nOn the landing at the top burned a small lamp. Beside it stood the tame\nsweetheart.\n\nGerda curtsied as her grandmother had taught her.\n\n\"He,\" said the tame sweetheart, nodding to the raven of the field, \"he\nhas told me your story. It has made me sad. But if you carry the lamp, I\nwill lead the way, and then we shall see----\"\n\n\"We shall see little Kay,\" murmured Gerda.\n\n\"Hush! we shall see what we shall see,\" said the tame sweetheart.\n\nThrough room after room Gerda followed her strange guide, her heart\nthumping and thumping so loudly that she was afraid some one in the\npalace would hear it and wake.\n\nAt last they came to a room in which stood two little beds, one white\nand one red. The tame sweetheart nodded to the little girl.\n\nPoor Gerda! she was trembling all over, as she peeped at the little head\nthat rested on the pillow of the white bed.\n\nOh! that was the princess.\n\nGerda turned to the little red bed. The prince was lying on his face,\nbut the hair, surely it was Kay's hair. She drew down the little red\ncoverlet until she saw a brown neck. Yes! it was Kay's neck, she felt\nsure.\n\n\"Kay, Kay, it is I, little Gerda, wake, wake.\"\n\nAnd the prince awoke. He turned his head. He opened his eyes--and--alas!\nalas! it was not little Kay.\n\nThen Gerda cried and cried as if her heart would break. She cried until\nshe awoke the princess, who started up bewildered.\n\n\"Who are you, little girl, and where do you come from, and what do you\nwant?\"\n\n\"Oh, I want Kay, little Kay, do you know where he is?\" And Gerda told\nthe princess all her story, and of what the ravens had done to help her.\n\n\"Poor little child,\" said the princess, \"how sad you must feel!\"\n\n\"And how tired,\" said the prince, and he jumped out of his little red\nbed, and made Gerda lie down.\n\nThe little girl was grateful indeed. She folded her hands and was soon\nfast asleep.\n\nAnd Gerda dreamed of Kay. She saw him sitting in his little sledge, and\nit was dragged by angels. But it was only a dream, and, when she awoke,\nher little playmate was as far away as ever.\n\nThe ravens were now very happy, for the princess said that, although\nthey must never again lead any one to the palace by the back staircase,\nthis time they should be rewarded. They should for the rest of their\nlives live together in the palace garden, and be known as the court\nravens, and be fed from the royal kitchen.\n\nWhen little Gerda awoke from her dreams, she saw the sunbeams stealing\nacross her bed. It was time to get up.\n\nThe court ladies dressed the little girl in silk and velvet, and the\nprince and princess asked her to stay with them at the palace. But Gerda\nbegged for a little carriage, and a horse, and a pair of boots, that she\nmight again go out into the great wide world to seek little Kay.\n\nSo they gave her a pair of boots and a muff, and when she was dressed,\nthere before the door stood a carriage of pure gold. The prince himself\nhelped Gerda to step in, and the princess waved to her as she drove off.\n\nBut although Gerda was now a grand little girl, she was very lonely. The\ncoachman and footman in the scarlet and gold livery did not speak a\nword. She was glad when the field raven flew to the carriage and perched\nby her side. He explained that his wife, for he was now married, would\nhave come also, but she had eaten too much breakfast and was not well.\nBut at the end of three miles the raven said good-by, and flapping his\nshiny black wings, flew into an elm. There he watched the golden\ncarriage till it could no longer be seen.\n\nPoor Gerda was lonely as ever! There were gingernuts and sugar-biscuits\nand fruit in the carriage, but these could not comfort the little girl.\n\nWhen would she find Kay?\n\n * * *\n\nIn a dark forest lived a band of wild robbers. Among them was an old\nrobber-woman, with shaggy eyebrows and no teeth. She had one little\ndaughter.\n\n\"Look, look! what is that?\" cried the little robber-girl one afternoon,\nas something like a moving torch gleamed through the forest. It was\nGerda's golden carriage. The robbers rushed toward it, drove away the\ncoachman and the footman, and dragged out the little girl.\n\n\"How plump she is! You will taste nice, my dear,\" the old woman said to\nGerda, as she drew out her long, sharp knife. It glittered horribly.\n\"Now, just stand still, so, and--oh! stop, I say, stop,\" screamed the\nold woman, for at that moment her daughter sprang upon her back and bit\nher ear. And there she hung like some savage little animal. \"Oh, my ear,\nmy ear, you bad, wicked child!\" But the woman did not now try to kill\nGerda.\n\nThen the robber-child said, \"Little girl, I want you myself, and I want\nto ride beside you.\" So together they stepped into the golden carriage\nand drove deep into the wood. \"No one will hurt you now, unless I get\nangry with you,\" said the robber-girl, putting her arm round Gerda. \"Are\nyou a princess?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Gerda, and she told the robber-girl all her story. \"Have you\nseen little Kay?\" she ended.\n\n\"Never,\" said the robber-girl, \"never.\" Then she looked at Gerda and\nadded, \"No one shall kill you even if I am angry with you. I shall do it\nmyself.\" And she dried Gerda's eyes. \"Now this is nice,\" and she lay\nback, her red hands in Gerda's warm, soft muff.\n\nAt last the carriage stopped at a robber's castle. It was a ruin. The\nrobber-girl led Gerda into a large, old hall and gave her a basin of hot\nsoup. \"You shall sleep there to-night,\" she said, \"with me and my pets.\"\n\nGerda looked where the robber-girl pointed, and saw that in one corner\nof the room straw was scattered on the stone floor.\n\n\"Yes, you shall see my pets. Come, lie down now.\"\n\nAnd little Gerda and the robber-girl lay down together on their straw\nbed. Above, perched on poles, were doves.\n\n\"Mine, all mine,\" said the little robber-girl. Jumping up, she seized\nthe dove nearest her by the feet and shook it till its wings flapped.\nThen she slung it against Gerda's face. \"Kiss it,\" she said. \"Yes, all\nmine; and look,\" she went on, \"he is mine, too;\" and she caught by the\nhorn a reindeer that was tied to the wall. He had a bright brass collar\nround his neck. \"We have to keep him tied or he would run away. I tickle\nhim every night with my sharp knife, and then he is afraid;\" and the\ngirl drew from a hole in the wall a long knife, and gently ran it across\nthe reindeer's neck. The poor animal kicked, but the little robber-girl\nlaughed, and then again lay down on her bed of straw.\n\n\"But,\" said Gerda, with terror in her eyes, \"you are not going to sleep\nwith that long, sharp knife in your hand?\"\n\n\"Yes, I always do,\" replied the robber-girl; \"one never knows what may\nhappen. But tell me again all about Kay, and about your journey through\nthe wide world.\"\n\nAnd Gerda told all her story over again. Then the little robber-girl put\none arm round Gerda's neck, and with her long knife in the other, she\nfell sound asleep.\n\nBut Gerda could not sleep. How could she, with that sharp knife close\nbeside her? She would try not to think of it. She would listen to the\ndoves. \"Coo, coo,\" they said. Then they came nearer.\n\n\"We have seen little Kay,\" they whispered. \"He floated by above our nest\nin the Snow Queen's sledge. She blew upon us as she passed, and her icy\nbreath killed many of us.\"\n\n\"But where was little Kay going? Where does the Snow Queen live?\" asked\nGerda.\n\n\"The reindeer can tell you everything,\" said the doves.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the reindeer, \"I can tell you. Little Kay was going to the\nSnow Queen's palace, a splendid palace of glittering ice, away in\nLapland.\"\n\n\"Oh, Kay, little Kay!\" sighed Gerda.\n\n\"Lie still, or I shall stick my knife into you,\" said the little\nrobber-girl.\n\nAnd little Gerda lay still, but she did not sleep. In the morning she\ntold the robber-girl what the doves and the reindeer had said.\n\nThe little robber-girl looked very solemn and thoughtful. Then she\nnodded her head importantly. At last she spoke, not to Gerda, but to the\nreindeer.\n\n\"I should like to keep you here always, tied by your brass collar to\nthat wall. Then I should still tickle you with my knife, and have the\nfun of seeing you kick and struggle. But never mind. Do you know where\nLapland is?\"\n\nLapland! of course the reindeer knew. Had he not been born there? Had he\nnot played in its snow-covered fields? As the reindeer thought of his\nhappy childhood, his eyes danced.\n\n\"Would you like to go back to your old home?\" asked the robber-girl.\n\nThe reindeer leaped into the air for joy.\n\n\"Very well, I will soon untie your chain. Mother is still asleep. Come\nalong, Gerda. Now, I am going to put this little girl on your back, and\nyou are to carry her safely to the Snow Queen's palace. She must find\nher little playfellow.\" And the robber-girl lifted Gerda up and tied her\non the reindeer's back, having first put a little cushion beneath her.\n\"I must keep your muff, Gerda, but you can have mother's big, black\nmittens. Come, put your hands in. Oh, they do look ugly.\"\n\n\"I am going to Kay, little Kay,\" and Gerda cried for joy.\n\n\"There is nothing to whimper about,\" said the robber-girl. \"Look! here\nare two loaves and a ham.\" Then she opened wide the door, loosened the\nreindeer's chain, and said, \"Now run.\"\n\nAnd the reindeer darted through the open door, Gerda waving her\nblackmittened hands, and the little robber-girl calling after the\nreindeer, \"Take care of my little girl.\"\n\nOn and on they sped, over briers and bushes, through fields and forests\nand swamps. The wolves howled and the ravens screamed. But Gerda was\nhappy. She was going to Kay.\n\n * * *\n\nThe loaves and the ham were finished, and Gerda and the reindeer were in\nLapland.\n\nThey stopped in front of a little hut. Its roof sloped down almost to\nthe ground, and the door was so low that to get into the hut one had to\ncreep on hands and knees. How the reindeer squeezed through I cannot\ntell, but there he was in the little hut, telling an old Lapp woman who\nwas frying fish over a lamp, first his own story and then the sad story\nof Gerda and little Kay.\n\n\"Oh, you poor creatures,\" said the Lapp woman, \"the Snow Queen is not\nin Lapland at present. She is hundreds of miles away at her palace in\nFinland. But I will give you a note to a Finn woman, and she will direct\nyou better than I can.\" And the Lapp woman wrote a letter on a dried\nfish, as she had no paper.\n\nThen, when Gerda had warmed herself by the lamp, the Lapp woman tied her\non to the reindeer again, and they squeezed through the little door and\nwere once more out in the wide world.\n\nOn and on they sped through the long night, while the blue northern\nlights flickered in the sky overhead, and the crisp snow crackled\nbeneath their feet.\n\nAt last they reached Finland and knocked on the Finn woman's chimney,\nfor she had no door at all. Then they squeezed down the chimney and\nfound themselves in a very hot little room.\n\nThe old woman at once loosened Gerda's things, and took off her mittens\nand boots. Then she put ice on the reindeer's head. Now that her\nvisitors were more comfortable she could look at the letter they\nbrought. She read it three times and then put it in the fish-pot, for\nthis old woman never wasted anything.\n\nThere was silence for five minutes, and then the reindeer again told his\nstory first, and afterward the sad story of Gerda and little Kay.\n\nOnce more there was silence for five minutes, and then the Finn woman\nwhispered to the reindeer. This is what she whispered: \"Yes, little Kay\nis with the Snow Queen, and thinks himself the happiest boy in the\nworld. But that is because a little bit of the magic mirror is still in\nhis eye, and another tiny grain remains in his heart. Until they come\nout, he can never be the old Kay. As long as they are there, the Snow\nQueen will have him in her power.\"\n\n\"But cannot you give Gerda power to overcome the Snow Queen?\" whispered\nthe reindeer.\n\n\"I cannot give her greater power than she has already. Her own loving\nheart has won the help of bird and beast and robber-girl, and it is\nthat loving heart that will conquer the Snow Queen. But this you can do.\nCarry little Gerda to the palace garden. It is only two miles from here.\nYou will see a bush covered with red berries. Leave Gerda there and\nhurry back to me.\"\n\nOff sped the reindeer.\n\n\"Oh, my boots and my mittens!\" cried Gerda.\n\nBut the reindeer would not stop. On he rushed through the snow until he\ncame to the bush with the red berries. There he put Gerda down and\nkissed her, while tears trickled down his face. Then off he bounded,\nleaving the little girl standing barefoot on the crisp snow.\n\nGerda stepped forward. Huge snowflakes were coming to meet her. They did\nnot fall from the sky. No, they were marching along the ground. And what\nstrange shapes they took! Some looked like white hedgehogs, some like\npolar bears. They were the Snow Queen's soldiers.\n\nGerda grew frightened. But she did not run away. She folded her hands\nand closed her eyes. \"Our Father which art in heaven,\" she began, but\nshe could get no further. The cold was so great that she could not go\non. She opened her eyes, and there, surrounding her, was a legion of\nbright little angels. They had been formed from her breath, as she\nprayed, \"Our Father which art in heaven.\" And the bright little angels\nshivered into a hundred pieces the snowflake army, and Gerda walked on\nfearlessly toward the palace of the Snow Queen.\n\n * * *\n\nLittle Kay sits alone in the great ice hall. He does not know that he is\nblue with cold, for the Snow Queen has kissed away the icy shiverings\nand left his heart with no more feeling than a lump of ice.\n\nAnd this morning she has flown off to visit the countries of the south,\nwhere the grapes and the lemons grow.\n\n\"It is all so blue there,\" she had said, \"I must go and cast my veil of\nwhite across their hills and meadows.\" And away she flew.\n\nSo Kay sits in the great ice hall alone. Chips of ice are his only\nplaythings, and now he leaves them on the ice-floor and goes to the\nwindow to gaze at the snowdrifts in the palace garden. Great gusts of\nwind swirl the snow past the windows. Kay can see nothing. He turns\nagain to his ice toys.\n\nOutside, little Gerda struggles through the biting wind, then, saying\nher morning prayer, she enters the vast hall. At a glance she sees the\nlonely boy. In a twinkling she knows it is Kay. Her little bare feet\ncarry her like wings across the ice floor. Her arms are round his neck.\n\n\"Kay, dear, dear Kay!\"\n\nBut Kay does not move. He is still and cold as the palace walls.\n\nLittle Gerda bursts into tears, hot, scalding tears. Her arms are yet\nround Kay's neck, and her tears fall upon his heart of ice. They thaw\nit. They reach the grain of glass, and it melts away.\n\nAnd now Kay's tears fall hot and fast, and as they pour, the tiny bit of\nglass passes out of his eye, and he sees, he knows, his long-lost\nplaymate.\n\n\"Little Gerda, little Gerda!\" he cries, \"where have you been, where have\nyou been, where are we now?\" and he shivers as he looks round the vast\ncold hall.\n\nBut Gerda kisses his white cheeks, and they grow rosy; she kisses his\neyes, and they shine like stars; she kisses his hands and feet, and he\nis strong and glad.\n\nHand in hand they wander out of the ice palace. The winds hush, the sun\nbursts forth. They talk of their grandmother, of their rose-trees.\n\nThe reindeer has come back, and with him there waits another reindeer.\nThey stand by the bush with the red berries.\n\nThe children bound on to their backs, and are carried first to the hut\nof the Finn woman, and then on to Lapland. The Lapp woman has new\nclothes ready for them, and brings out her sledge. Once more Kay and\nGerda are sitting side by side. The Lapp woman drives, and the two\nreindeer follow. On and on they speed through the white-robed land. But\nnow they leave it behind. The earth wears her mantle of green.\n\n\"Good-by,\" they say to the kind Lapp woman; \"good-by\" to the gentle\nreindeer.\n\nTogether the children enter a forest. How strange and how sweet the song\nof the birds!\n\nA young girl on horseback comes galloping toward them. She wears a\nscarlet cap, and has pistols in her belt. It is the robber-girl.\n\n\"So you have found little Kay.\"\n\nGerda smiles a radiant smile, and asks for the prince and princess.\n\n\"They are traveling far away.\"\n\n\"And the raven?\"\n\n\"Oh, the raven is dead. But tell me what you have been doing, and where\nyou found little Kay.\"\n\nThe three children sit down under a fir-tree, and Gerda tells of her\njourney through Lapland and Finland, and how at last she had found\nlittle Kay in the palace of the Snow Queen.\n\n\"Snip, snap, snorra!\" shouts the robber-girl, which is her way of saying\n\"Hurrah!\" Then, promising that if ever she is near their town, she will\npay them a visit, off she gallops into the wide world.\n\nOn wander the two children, on and on. At last they see the tall towers\nof the old town where they had lived together. Soon they come to the\nnarrow street they remember so well. They climb the long, long stair,\nand burst into the little attic.\n\nThe rose-bush is in bloom, and the sun pours in upon the old\ngrandmother, who reads her Bible by the open window.\n\nKay and Gerda take their two little stools and sit down one on either\nside of her, and listen to the words from the Good Book. As they listen,\na great peace steals into their souls.\n\nAnd outside it is summer--warm, bright, beautiful summer.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MASTER-MAID\n\n\nOnce there was a King who had a son, and this Prince would not stay at\nhome, but went a long, long way off to a very far country. There he met\na Giant; and though it seems a strange thing for a King's son to do, the\nPrince went to the Giant's house to be his servant, and the Giant gave\nthe Prince a room, to sleep in, which, very strangely, had a door on\nevery side. However, the Prince thought little of this, for he was very\ntired, and he went quickly to bed, and slept soundly all night.\n\nNow, the Giant had a large herd of goats; and very likely the Prince\nthought the Giant would send him to herd the goats. But the Giant did\nnothing of the sort. In the morning he prepared to take the goats to\npasture himself; but before he set out he told the Prince that he\nexpected him to clean the stable before he came back in the evening.\n\n\"I am a very easy master,\" said the Giant, \"and that is all I expect you\nto do. But remember, I expect the work to be well done.\" Then, before he\nreached the door, he turned back and said, in a threatening way: \"You\nare not to open a single one of the doors in your room. If you do, I\nshall kill you.\"\n\nThen the Giant shut the door in a way that seemed to say, \"I mean every\nword I have said,\" and he went off with his goats, and left the Prince\nalone.\n\nWhen he was gone, the Prince drummed for a while with his fingers on the\nwindow. Then, when the Giant and his flock had gone out of sight, he\nbegan to walk about the room, whistling to himself and looking at the\nforbidden doors.\n\nThe house seemed silent and lonely, and he really had nothing to do. To\nclean a stable with only one stall seemed a very small task for a sturdy\nboy like him.\n\nAt last he said to himself: \"I wonder what the Giant keeps behind those\ndoors? I think I shall look and see.\"\n\nIf the Giant had been there the Prince would have paid dear for his\ncuriosity; but he was far away, and the Prince boldly opened the first\ndoor, and inside he saw a huge pot, or cauldron, boiling away merrily.\n\n\"What a strange thing,\" said the Prince; \"there is no fire under the\npot. I must go in and see it!\"\n\nAnd into the room he went, and bent down to see what queer soup it was\nthat boiled without a fire. As he did so, a lock of his hair dipped into\nthe pot; and when he raised his head, the lock looked like bronze. The\ncauldron was full of boiling copper.\n\nHe went out and closed the door carefully behind him; and, wondering if\nthere was a copper pot in the next room, he opened the second door.\nThere was a cauldron inside, boiling merrily; but there was no fire to\nbe seen. He went over and looked into the pot; and as it did not look\nexactly like the first one, he dipped in another lock. When he raised\nhis head, up came the lock, weighted heavily with silver. The cauldron\nwas full of boiling silver.\n\nWondering greatly at the Giant's riches, the Prince went out, closed the\ndoor very carefully, and opened the third door. He almost tip-toed into\nthis room, he was so curious; but he went through the same performance.\nAnd when he raised his head from the third pot that boiled without a\nfire, the third lock of hair was like a heavy tassel of gold. The third\npot was full of boiling gold.\n\nFull of amazement at the Giant's great riches, the Prince hurried out of\nthe room, and closed the door with the greatest care. By this time he\nwas so full of curiosity that he ran as fast as he could to the fourth\ndoor. And yet he scarcely dared to open it to see the riches he was sure\nit hid behind it.\n\nHowever, he opened it, very gently and very quietly; and there on the\nbench, in the window, looking out, sat a beautiful maiden.\n\nAlthough the door opened very quietly, she heard the sound, and looked\nup. And when she saw the handsome young Prince standing in the doorway,\nshe started toward him, and cried in great distress: \"O boy, boy! why\nhave you come here?\"\n\nThe Prince told her he had come to serve the Giant, and found him a very\neasy master. Indeed, he said the Giant had given him nothing to do that\nday but clean the stable.\n\nThe maiden told him that if he tried to clean it as everyone else did,\nhe would never finish the work, because for every pitchforkful he threw\nout, ten would come back.\n\nThe thing to do, she said, was to use the handle of his pitchfork, and\nthe work would soon be done.\n\nThe Prince said he would follow her advice; and then they sat all day\nand talked of pleasant things. Indeed, they liked each other so well\nthat they very soon settled that they would get married.\n\nWhen it came toward evening, the maiden reminded the Prince that the\nGiant would soon be home. So the youth went out to clean the stable.\nFirst, he tried to do the work as any other boy would do it; but when he\nfound that in a very short time he would not have room to stand, he\nquickly turned the pitchfork around and used the handle. In a few\nmoments the stable was as clean as a stable could be. Then he went back\nto his room and wandered about it with his hands in his pockets, looking\nquite as innocent as if he had not raised the latch of a single door.\n\nSoon the Giant came in and asked if his work was done. The Prince said\nit was. Of course, the Giant did not believe him; but he went out to\nsee. When he came back he said very decidedly to the Prince: \"You have\nbeen talking to my Master-Maid. You could not have learned how to clean\nthat stable yourself.\"\n\nBut the Prince made himself appear as if he had never heard of the\nmaiden before, and asked such stupid questions that the Giant went away\nsatisfied, and left him to sleep.\n\nNext morning, before the Giant set out with his goats, he again told\nthe Prince that he would find he was an easy master: all he had to\ndo that day was to catch the Giant's horse that was feeding on the\nmountain-side. And having set him this task, the Giant said that if the\nPrince opened one of the doors he would kill him. Then he took his\nstaff, and was soon out of sight.\n\nQuick as the Giant disappeared, the Prince, who had no more interest in\nthe other rooms, opened the fourth door. The maiden asked him about his\nday's task; and when she heard it; she told the Prince that the horse\nwould rush at him with flame bursting from its nostrils, and its mouth\nwide open to tear him. But, she said, if he would take the bridle that\nhung on the crook by the door, and fling it straight into the horse's\nmouth, the beast would become quite tame. He promised to do so; and they\ntalked all day of pleasant things. And when it came toward evening the\nmaiden reminded him that the Giant would soon be home.\n\nSo the Prince went out to catch the horse; and everything happened as\nthe maiden said. But when the fiery horse rushed at him with open mouth\nhe watched his opportunity, and just at the right moment he flung the\nbridle in between its teeth, and the horse stood still. Then the Prince\nmounted it and rode it quietly home. He put the horse in the stable, and\nwent to his room, sat down and whistled to himself as if he did not know\nthere was a maiden in the world.\n\nVery soon the Giant came in, and asked about the horse, and the Prince\nsaid very quietly that it was in the stable. The Giant did not believe\nhim; but he went to see, and again accused the Prince of having been\ntalking to his Master-Maid.\n\nThe Prince pretended to be stupid, and asked silly questions, and said\nhe would like to see the maid. \"You shall see her soon enough,\" the\nGiant promised, and went away and left the Prince to go to sleep.\n\nThe next day, before the Giant set out, he told the Prince to go down\nunderground and fetch his taxes. Then he warned the Prince not to touch\nthe doors, and went off with his goats.\n\nNo sooner was he out of sight than the Prince rushed to the maiden, and\nasked her how he was to find his way underground to get the taxes, and\nhow much he should ask for. She took him to the window and pointed out a\nrocky ledge. He must go there, she said, take a club that hung beside\nit, and knock on the rocky wall. As soon as he did so, a fiery monster\nwould come out, and ask his errand.\n\n\"But remember,\" said the maiden, \"when he asks how much you want, you\nare to say: 'As much as I can carry.'\"\n\nThe Prince promised to do as she said, and they sat down close together\nand talked until the evening of what they would do when they escaped\nfrom the Giant and went home to get married.\n\nWhen evening came the maiden reminded the Prince of the Giant's coming,\nand he went to get the money from the fiery monster. Everything happened\nas the maiden said; and when the monster, with sparks flying everywhere\nfrom him, asked fiercely, \"How much do you want?\" the Prince was not in\nthe least afraid, but said: \"As much as I can carry.\"\n\n\"It is a good thing you did not ask for a horse-load,\" said the monster;\nand he took the Prince in and filled a sack, which was as much as the\nPrince could do to carry. Indeed, that was nothing to what the Prince\nsaw there, for gold and silver coins lay around, inside the mountain,\nlike pebbles on the seashore.\n\nThe Prince carried the money back to the Giant's house; and when the\nGiant reached home, the Prince sat quietly in his room, whistling\nsoftly, just as if he had never risen from his seat since the Giant\nleft.\n\nThe Giant demanded the money for his taxes. \"Here it is,\" said the\nPrince, showing him the bursting sack. The Giant examined the money, and\nthen again accused the Prince of having been talking to the Master-Maid.\n\n\"Master,\" said the Prince, \"this is the third day you have talked about\nthe Master-Maid. Will you let me see her?\"\n\nThe Giant looked at the Prince from under his bushy eyebrows, and said:\n\"It is time enough to-morrow. I will show her to you myself, and you\nwill see quite enough of her,\" and he went off and left the Prince to\nhis sleep.\n\nBut next morning, early, the Giant strode into the Prince's room, and\nsaying, \"Now I will take you to see the Master-Maid,\" he opened the door\nof the fourth room, beckoned the Prince to follow him in, and said to\nthe maiden: \"Kill this youth, boil him in the large cauldron, and when\nthe broth is ready, call me.\"\n\nThen, just as if he had said nothing more startling than \"Prepare some\ncauliflower for dinner,\" he lay down on the bench and fell so fast\nasleep that his snores sounded like thunder.\n\n [Illustration: \"KILL THIS YOUTH. BOIL HIM IN THE LARGE CAULDRON,\" SAID\n THE GIANT]\n\nImmediately the maiden began to make her preparations very neatly and\nquickly. First, with a little knife she made a small gash in the\nPrince's little finger and dropped three drops of his blood on the\nwooden stool, near the cauldron. Then she gathered up a lot of rubbish,\nsuch as old shoes and rags, and put them in the cauldron with water and\npepper and salt. Last of all, she packed a small chest with gold, and\ngave it to the Prince to carry; filled a water-flask; took a golden cock\nand hen, and put a lump of salt and a golden apple in her pocket. Then\nthe maid and the Prince ran to the sea-shore as fast as they could,\nclimbed on board a little ship that had come from no-one-knows-where,\nand sailed away.\n\nAfter a while the Giant roused a little, and said sleepily: \"Will it\nsoon boil?\"\n\nThe first drop of blood answered quietly: \"It is just beginning.\" And\nthe Giant went to sleep again.\n\nAt the end of a few hours more he roused again and asked: \"Will it soon\nbe ready?\"\n\nAnd the second drop said: \"Half done,\" in the maiden's mournful voice,\nfor she had seen so many dark deeds done that, until the Prince came,\nshe was always sad.\n\nAgain the Giant went to sleep, for several hours; but then he became\nquite awake, and asked: \"Is it not done yet?\"\n\nThe third drop said: \"Quite ready.\" And the Giant sat up, and looked\naround. The maiden was nowhere to be seen, but the Giant went over to\nthe pot and tasted the soup.\n\nAt once he knew what had happened, and in a furious rage rushed to the\nsea, but he could not get over it. So he called up his water-sucker, who\nlay down and drank two or three draughts; and the water fell so low that\nthe horizon dropped, and the Giant could see the maiden and the Prince a\nlong way off.\n\nBut the Master-Maid told the Prince to throw the lump of salt into the\nsea, and as soon as he did so it became such a high mountain that the\nGiant could not cross it, and the water-sucker could not gather up any\nmore water.\n\nThen the Giant called his hill-borer, who bored a tunnel through the\nmountain, so that the sucker could go through and drink up more water.\n\nThen the maiden told the Prince to scatter a few drops from the\nwater-bottle into the sea. As soon as he did so the sea filled up, and\nbefore the water-sucker could drink one drop, they were at the other\nside, safe in the kingdom of the Prince's father.\n\nThe Prince did not think it was fitting that his bride should walk to\nhis palace, so he said he would go and fetch seven horses and a carriage\nto take her there. The maiden begged him not to go, because, she said,\nhe would forget her; but he insisted. Then she asked him to speak to no\none while he was away, and on no account to taste anything; and he\npromised that he would go straight to the stable for the horses, and\nwithout speaking a word to anyone, would come straight back.\n\nWhen he got to the palace he found it full of a merry company, for his\nbrother was going to be married to a lovely princess, who had come from\na far-off land. But in answer to their cries of welcome and questions\nthe Prince said no word, and only shook his head when they offered him\nfood, until the pretty laughing young sister of the bride-to-be rolled a\nbright red apple across the courtyard to him. Laughing back at her, he\npicked it up, and without thinking bit into it. Immediately he forgot\nthe Master-Maid, who had saved his life and was now sitting alone on the\nseashore waiting for him.\n\nShe waited until the night began to grow dark; then she went away into\nthe wood near the palace to find shelter. There she found a dark hut,\nowned by a Witch, who at first would not allow her to stay. The Witch's\nhard heart, however, was softened by the maiden's gold, and she allowed\nher to have the hut.\n\nThen the maid flung into the fire a handful of gold, which immediately\nmelted and boiled all over the hut, and gilded the dark, dingy walls.\nThe Witch was so frightened that she ran away, and the maid was left\nalone in the little gilded house.\n\nThe next morning the Sheriff was passing through the wood, and stopped\nto see the gilded house. At once he fell in love with the beautiful\nmaiden, and asked her to marry him. The maiden asked if he had a great\ndeal of money, and the Sheriff said he had a good deal, and went away to\nfetch it. In the evening he came back with a two-bushel bag of gold; and\nas he had so much, the maiden seemed to think she would marry him.\n\nBut as they were talking she sprang up, saying she had forgotten to put\ncoal on the fire. The Sheriff went to do it for her, and immediately she\nput a spell on him so that until morning came, he could not let the\nshovel go, and had to stand all night pouring red hot coals over\nhimself. In the morning he was a sad sight to see, and hurried home so\nfast, to hide himself, that people thought he was mad.\n\nThe next day the Attorney passed by, and the same thing happened. The\nAttorney brought a four-bushel sack of money to show the maid how rich\nhe was; and while they were talking the maid said she had forgotten to\nclose the door, so the Attorney went to close it. When he had his hand\non the latch the maid cried: \"May you hold the door, and the door you,\nand may you go between wall and wall, till day dawns.\"\n\nAnd all night long the Attorney had to rush back and forth, trying to\nescape from the blows of the door which he could not let go. He made a\ngreat deal of noise, but the maid slept as soundly as if she were in the\nmidst of calm. In the morning the Attorney escaped, and went home so\nbruised-and-battered looking that everyone stopped and stared at him.\n\nThe next day the Bailiff saw the bright little house and the maid. He at\nonce fell in love with her, and brought at least six bushels of money to\nshow how rich she would be, if she married him. The maid seemed to think\nshe would; but while they were talking she suddenly remembered to tie up\nthe calf.\n\nThe Bailiff went to do it for her, and she put a spell on him, so that\nall night long he had to fly over hill and dale holding on to the calf's\ntail, which he could by no means let go. In the morning he was a sorry\nsight, as he limped slowly home, with torn coat and ragged boots at\nwhich everyone looked, for he was always dressed very neatly.\n\nWhile all this was happening, the Prince had quite forgotten the maid;\nand, indeed, it was arranged that he was to marry the young Princess who\nhad thrown him the apple on the same day that his brother married her\nsister.\n\n [Illustration: THE BAILIFF COULD NOT LET GO OF THE CALF'S TAIL]\n\nBut when the two Princes and their brides were seated in the carriage\nthe trace-pin broke, and no pin could be got that would not break, until\nthe Sheriff thought of the maiden's shovel-handle. The King sent to\nborrow it, and it made a pin that did not break in two.\n\nThen a curious thing happened: the bottom of the carriage fell out, and\nas fast as a new one was made it fell to pieces. However, the Attorney\nthought of the maiden's door. The King sent to borrow it, and it fitted\nthe bottom of the carriage exactly.\n\nEverything was now ready, and the coachman cracked his whip; but, strain\nas they would, the horses could not move the carriage. At last the\nBailiff thought of the Master-Maid's calf; and although it was a very\nridiculous thing to see the King's carriage drawn by a calf, the King\nsent to borrow it. The maiden, who was very obliging, lent it at once.\nThe calf was harnessed to the carriage, and away it went over stock and\nstone, pulling horse and carriage as easily and quickly as it had pulled\nthe Bailiff.\n\nWhen they got to the church door the carriage began to go round and\nround so quickly that it was very difficult and dangerous to get out of\nit.\n\nWhen they were seated at the wedding feast, the Prince said he thought\nthey ought to invite the maiden who lived in the gilded hut, because\nwithout her help they could not have got to the church at all. The King\nthought so too; so they sent five courtiers to ask her to the feast.\n\n\"Greet the King,\" replied the maid, \"and tell him if he is too good to\ncome to me, I am too good to go to him.\"\n\nSo the King had to go himself and invite her; and as they went to the\npalace he thought she was something else than what she seemed to be.\n\nSo he put her in the place of honor beside the Prince; and after a while\nthe Master-Maid took out the golden cock and hen and the golden apple,\nwhich she had brought from the Giant's house, and put them on the table.\n\nAt once the cock and hen began to fight.\n\n\"Oh! look how those two there are fighting for the apple,\" said the\nPrince.\n\n\"Yes, and so did we fight to get out of danger,\" said the Master-Maid.\n\nThen the Prince knew her again. The Witch who had thrown him the apple\ndisappeared, and now for the first time they began really to keep the\nwedding.\n\n\n\n\nCAP O' RUSHES[J]\n\n\nWell, there was once a very rich gentleman who had three daughters, and\nhe thought he'd see how fond they were of him. So he says to the first:\n\n\"How much do you love me, my dear?\"\n\n\"Why,\" says she, \"as I love my life.\"\n\n\"That's good,\" says he.\n\nSo he says to the second: \"How much do you love me, my dear?\"\n\n\"Why,\" says she, \"better nor all the world.\"\n\n\"That's good,\" says he.\n\nSo he says to the third: \"How much do you love me, my dear?\"\n\n\"Why, I love you as fresh meat loves salt,\" says she.\n\nWell, but he was angry! \"You don't love me at all,\" says he, \"and in my\nhouse you stay no more.\" So he drove her out, there and then, and shut\nthe door in her face.\n\nWell, she went away, on and on, till she came to a fen, and there she\ngathered a lot of rushes and made them into a kind of a sort of a cloak,\nwith a hood, to cover her from head to foot, and to hide her fine\nclothes.\n\nAnd then she went on and on till she came to a great house.\n\n\"Do you want a maid?\" says she.\n\n\"No, we don't,\" said they.\n\n\"I haven't nowhere to go,\" says she; \"and I ask no wages, and will do\nany sort of work,\" says she.\n\n\"Well,\" said they, \"if you like to wash the pots and scrape the\nsaucepans you may stay,\" said they.\n\nSo she stayed there, and washed the pots, and scraped the saucepans, and\ndid all the dirty work. And because she gave no name they called her\n\"Cap o' Rushes.\"\n\nWell, one day there was to be a great dance a little way off, and the\nservants were allowed to go and look on at the grand people. Cap o'\nRushes said she was too tired to go, so she stayed at home.\n\nBut when they were gone, she offed with her cap o' rushes, and cleaned\nherself, and went to the dance. And no one there was so finely dressed\nas she!\n\nWell, who should be there but her master's son, and what should he do\nbut fall in love with her the minute he set eyes on her. He wouldn't\ndance with anyone else.\n\nBut before the dance was done, Cap o' Rushes slipped off and away she\nwent home. And when the other maids came back she was pretending to be\nasleep with her cap o' rushes on.\n\nWell, next morning they said to her: \"You did miss a sight, Cap o'\nRushes!\"\n\n\"What was that?\" says she.\n\n\"Why, the beautifullest lady you ever saw, dressed right gay and ga'.\nThe young master--he never took his eyes off her.\"\n\n\"Well, I should like to have seen her,\" says Cap o' Rushes.\n\n\"Well, there's to be another dance this evening, and perhaps she'll be\nthere.\"\n\nBut, come the evening, Cap o' Rushes said she was too tired to go with\nthem. Howsoever, when they were gone, she offed with her cap o' rushes,\ncleaned herself, and away she went to the dance.\n\nThe master's son had been reckoning on seeing her, and he danced with no\none else, and never took his eyes off her. But before the dance was over\nshe slipped off and home she went, and when the maids came back she\npretended to be asleep with her cap o' rushes on.\n\nNext day they said to her again: \"Well, Cap o' Rushes, you should have\nbeen there to see the lady. There she was again, gay and ga', and the\nyoung master--he never took his eyes off her.\"\n\n\"Well, there,\" says she, \"I should ha' liked to ha' seen her.\"\n\n\"Well,\" says they, \"there's a dance again this evening, and you must go\nwith us, for she's sure to be there.\"\n\nWell, come this evening, Cap o' Rushes said she was too tired to go; and\ndo what they would she stayed at home. But when they were gone, she\noffed with her cap o' rushes and cleaned herself, and away she went to\nthe dance.\n\nThe master's son was rarely glad when he saw her. He danced with none\nbut her, and never took his eyes off her. When she wouldn't tell him her\nname, nor where she came from, he gave her a ring, and told her if he\ndidn't see her again he should die.\n\nWell, before the dance was over, off she slipped, and home she went; and\nwhen the maids came home she was pretending to be asleep with her cap o'\nrushes on.\n\nWell, next day they says to her: \"There, Cap o' Rushes, you didn't come\nlast night, and now you won't see the lady, for there's no more dances.\"\n\n\"Well, I should have rarely liked to have seen her,\" says she.\n\nThe master's son he tried every way to find out where the lady was\ngone; but go where he might, and ask whom he might, he never heard\nanything about her. And he got worse and worse for the love of her, till\nhe had to keep to his bed.\n\n\"Make some gruel for the young master,\" they said to the cook. \"He's\ndying for the love of the lady.\" The cook set about making it, when Cap\no' Rushes came in.\n\n\"What are you a-doing of?\" says she.\n\n\"I'm going to make some gruel for the young master,\" says the cook, \"for\nhe's dying for love of the lady.\"\n\n\"Let me make it,\" says Cap o' Rushes.\n\nWell, the cook wouldn't at first, but at last she said yes, and Cap o'\nRushes made the gruel. And when she had made it she slipped the ring\ninto it on the sly before the cook took it upstairs.\n\nThe young man he drank it, and then he saw the ring at the bottom.\n\n\"Send for the cook,\" says he.\n\nSo up she came.\n\n\"Who made this gruel here?\" says he.\n\n\"I did,\" says the cook, for she was frightened.\n\nAnd he looked at her.\n\n\"No, you didn't,\" says he. \"Say who did it, and you shan't be harmed.\"\n\n\"Well, then, 't was Cap o' Rushes,\" says she.\n\n\"Send Cap o' Rushes here,\" says he.\n\nSo Cap o' Rushes came.\n\n\"Did you make my gruel?\" says he.\n\n\"Yes, I did,\" says she.\n\n\"Where did you get this ring?\" says he.\n\n\"From him that gave it me,\" says she.\n\n\"Who are you, then?\" says the young man.\n\n\"I'll show you,\" says she. And she offed with her cap o' rushes, and\nthere she was in her beautiful clothes.\n\nWell, the master's son he got well very soon, and they were to be\nmarried in a little time. It was to be a very grand wedding, and\neveryone was asked, far and near. And Cap o' Rushes' father was asked.\nBut she never told anybody who she was.\n\nBut before the wedding, she went to the cook, and says she:\n\n\"I want you to dress every dish without a mite of salt.\"\n\n\"That'll be rare nasty,\" says the cook.\n\n [Illustration: \"AND THERE SHE WAS IN HER BEAUTIFUL CLOTHES\"]\n\n\"That doesn't signify,\" said she.\n\nWell, the wedding day came, and they were married. And after they were\nmarried all the company sat down to the dinner. When they began to eat\nthe meat, it was so tasteless they couldn't eat it. But Cap o' Rushes'\nfather tried first one dish and then another, and then he burst out\ncrying.\n\n\"What's the matter?\" said the master's son to him.\n\n\"Oh!\" says he, \"I had a daughter. And I asked her how much she loved me.\nAnd she said, 'As much as fresh meat loves salt.' And I turned her from\nmy door, for I thought she didn't love me. And now I see she loved me\nbest of all. And she may be dead for aught I know.\"\n\n\"No, father, here she is!\" said Cap o' Rushes. And she goes up to him\nand puts her arms round him.\n\nAnd so they were all happy ever after.\n\n [J] From \"English Fairy Tales,\" collected by Joseph Jacobs;\n used by permission of G. P. Putnam's Sons.\n\n\n\n\nFULFILLED\n\n\nIt was Christmas eve, and in the great house on the hill there was much\nrejoicing and preparation for the feasting on the morrow. A knock came\nat the door, and two strangers stood there. \"We have lost our way,\" they\nsaid, \"and the night is dark and cold, and we do not know where to go,\nand we would be glad to be allowed to stay for the night.\"\n\nBut the farmer and his wife said \"No!\" very shortly. They had no room\nfor beggars.\n\nSo the strangers went to the foot of the hill where stood the small\ncottage of a laborer and his wife. In this house there was much\nhappiness, but there was no preparation for feasting on the morrow. They\nwere poor folk, who could not keep the feast.\n\nBut when the strangers came the laborer opened the door wide and bade\nthem enter and draw near the fire and warm themselves. And, because\nthere was but one bed in the house, the laborer and his wife gave that\nto their guests, and themselves slept on straw in an outer room; but,\nstrange to say, they never slept better in all their lives.\n\nIn the morning they urged the strangers to stay with them, as it was a\nfeast-day, and a sorry time for travelers to be on the road. And,\nbecause there was no meat in the house, the laborer went out and killed\nthe one goat which they owned, and his wife dressed it, and cooked it,\nand made a feast. Then the strangers and the laborer and his wife went\nto church together, and all came home and sat down to the good dinner.\n\nAnd when they were departing one of the strangers said to the laborer:\n\"How many horns had the little goat?\"\n\nThe laborer looked a bit confused, for he had not meant that his guests\nshould know that he had sacrificed his last goat for them, but he\nanswered: \"Why, there were but two, of course.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the guests, \"you and your wife shall have two wishes, one\nfor each of you.\"\n\nThe laborer and his wife looked at each other, at first in perplexity,\nand then they smiled. They were very contented, they said. They had\nlooked into each other's eyes, and had seen that which made for\nhappiness and contentment. So they told the guests that they had no\nwishes to make: if they might but have their daily bread, and the hope\nof heaven when they died, there was nothing more.\n\nThe strangers said that these things should certainly be fulfilled, and\ntook their leave, promising to come again next year, and spend the\nnight, and attend church, and share the feast with their friends.\n\nFrom that day on everything that the laborer and his wife did prospered.\nTheir pigs were fat, and brought good prices on the market; their corn\ngrew thick and tall, and the barns were filled with golden grain; their\nhens laid more and bigger eggs than ever before, so that soon the couple\nwere no longer poor, but prosperous.\n\nThey knew quite well to whom they owed such good fortune, and often\nspoke about it, and looked forward to the time when their friends should\ncome again next year. For it seemed to them that they could hardly enjoy\nthe good things that had been given to them until they had thanked those\nthrough whose favor the good fortune had come.\n\nNow, the farmer and his wife remembered that these strangers had first\ncome to them; and when they heard the story they were envious, for,\nalthough they were rich, they were not content.\n\nSo one day the farmer went down the hill to the laborer's cottage and\nsaid:\n\n\"After all, your house is but small to entertain such guests. When they\ncome again this year, send them up to our house, and we will give them a\ngrand feast, and soft beds to sleep on, and take them to the church in\nour fine carriage.\"\n\nThe laborer and his wife thought that it was very nice that their\nfriends were to be so well entertained, and were very willing to promise\nto send them to the house of the farmer.\n\nSo when the Christmas season was come the farmer and his wife killed an\nox, and prepared a great feast. And when the strangers came they were\nright royally entertained; but the next morning they said that they must\nhasten, as they were to enter the church with the friends of the year\nbefore. This was very satisfactory to the farmer and his wife, for they\ndid not want to go to church on Christmas Day, but the farmer said that\nsince the strangers were going to the church he would drive them there\nin his carriage.\n\nSo the finest horses on the farm were harnessed to the carriage and it\nstood at the door. And just as they were about to drive away one of the\nstrangers turned to the farmer, asking: \"Did you kill the ox for us?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" answered the farmer, eagerly.\n\n\"And how many horns did he have?\"\n\nThis was the question that the farmer and his wife had been waiting for,\nand the farmer's wife whispered in her husband's ear: \"Say four--there\nwill be that much more for us.\"\n\nSo the farmer answered: \"Indeed, it was a very peculiar ox; it had four\nhorns.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the stranger, \"you shall have four wishes, two for each of\nyou.\"\n\nThen they mounted into the carriage and were driven off to the church,\nthe farmer driving very fast, for he was eager to get back home to his\nwife so that they might talk over what they were to wish for.\n\nSo when he started back the horses were pretty well \"blown,\" and could\nnot go fast, and the farmer whipped them, and at last one of them\nstumbled and a trace broke. This was most provoking, and he could not\nwait to fix it right, but fastened it hastily, for he wanted to be at\nhome again. Then the other horse stumbled, and the other trace broke, so\nboth of them were down.\n\nAt this the farmer was very angry. \"The wicked elves take you! I wish--\"\nBut the words were not all out of his mouth before the horses had gone,\nleaving the harness dangling to the carriage.\n\nThe farmer was indeed angry now, but there was nothing to be done about\nit, and he knew that he had but one wish left and he wanted to make that\none very carefully, so he packed the harness on his back, left the wagon\nstanding, and started home on foot.\n\nNow, at home the farmer's wife was very impatient for him to come, for\nshe wanted to talk over with him what her two wishes should be, and at\nlast she exclaimed: \"Oh, I wish that he would hurry!\"\n\nNo sooner were the words spoken than the farmer shot through the air and\ninto the house, angry at having been brought so speedily, and at his\nwife for having so foolishly wasted a wish. So immediately they began to\nquarrel about it, and the farmer said that it was all her fault for\nmaking him lie about the number of horns on the ox.\n\n\"Plague take the woman!\" he exclaimed, \"I wish that two of the horns\nwere growing out of her head this minute!\"\n\nNo sooner were the words spoken than the woman threw her hands to her\nhead and cried aloud in pain, for two horns were growing rapidly, one on\neach side of her head, and soon they were pushing through her hair and\nshoving her cap aside.\n\nBut the farmer clapped his hand to his mouth exclaiming: \"Oh, that was\nmy last wish. Do you now quickly wish for a million dollars!\"\n\n\"Much good a million dollars would do me!\" said his wife, \"with horns on\nmy head like an ox!\"\n\n\"But you could buy bonnets of silk and of velvet and cover them up,\"\npleaded her husband, who saw his last hope of riches disappearing, as,\nindeed, it did, for he had hardly stopped speaking when his wife\nexclaimed: \"I wish that the horns were gone off of my head.\"\n\nAnd in a moment the horns were gone, and so was the last wish, and so\nwas the hope for great riches, and so, also, were the two fine horses!\n\n\n\n\nKING GRISLY-BEARD\n\nRETOLD FROM THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nOnce there was a great King who had a daughter that was very beautiful,\nbut so haughty and vain she thought none of the Princes who came to ask\nher in marriage were good enough for her, and she made sport of them.\n\nOne day the King, her father, held a great feast, and invited all the\nPrinces at once. They sat in a row, according to their rank--Kings and\nPrinces and Dukes and Earls. Then the Princess came in, and passed down\nthe line by them all; but she had something disagreeable to say to\nevery one. The first was too fat. \"He's as round as a tub!\" she said.\nThe next one was too tall. \"What a flag-pole!\" she declared. The next\nwas too short. \"What a dumpling!\" was her comment. The fourth was too\npale, and so she called him \"Wall-face.\" The fifth was too red, and was\nnamed \"Coxcomb.\"\n\nThus she had some joke upon every one, but she laughed more than all at\na good King who was there. \"Look at him,\" said she; \"his beard is like\nan old mop. I call him 'Grisly-Beard.'\" So after that the good King got\nthe nickname of \"Grisly-Beard.\"\n\nNow the old King, her father, was very angry when he saw how badly his\ndaughter behaved, and how she treated all his friends. So he said that,\nwilling or unwilling, she should marry the first beggar that came to the\ndoor! All the Kings and Nobles heard him say this.\n\nTwo days afterward a traveling singer came by. When he began to sing and\nbeg alms the King heard him and said: \"Let him come in.\" So they brought\nin a dirty-looking fellow, and he sang before the King and the Princess.\nWhen he begged a gift the King said: \"You have sung so well that I will\ngive you my daughter for your wife.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"YOU HAVE SUNG SO WELL I WILL GIVE YOU MY DAUGHTER FOR\n YOUR WIFE\"]\n\nThe Princess begged for mercy, but her father said: \"I shall keep my\nword.\" So the parson was sent for, and she was married to the singer.\nThen the King said: \"You must get ready; you can't stay here any longer;\nyou must travel on with your husband.\"\n\nThen the beggar departed and took his wife with him.\n\nSoon they came to a great wood. \"Whose wood is this?\" she asked.\n\n\"It belongs to King Grisly-Beard,\" said he. \"If you had taken him this\nwould have been yours.\"\n\n\"Ah, unlucky girl that I am! I wish I had taken King Grisly-Beard.\"\n\nNext they came to some fine meadows. \"Whose are these beautiful green\nmeadows?\" she asked.\n\n\"They belong to King Grisly-Beard. If you had taken him they would have\nbeen yours.\"\n\n\"Ah, unlucky girl that I am! I wish indeed I had married King\nGrisly-Beard.\"\n\nThen they came to a great city. \"Whose is this noble city?\" she asked.\n\n\"It belongs to King Grisly-Beard,\" he said again. \"If you had taken him\nthis would have been yours, also.\"\n\n [Illustration: A DRUNKEN SOLDIER RODE HIS HORSE AGAINST HER STALL]\n\n\"Ah, miserable girl that I am,\" she sighed. \"Why did I not marry King\nGrisly-Beard?\"\n\n\"That is no business of mine,\" said the singer.\n\nAt last they came to a small cottage. \"To whom does this little hovel\nbelong?\" she asked.\n\n\"This is yours and mine,\" said the beggar. \"This is where we are to\nlive.\"\n\n\"Where are your servants?\" she asked, falteringly.\n\n\"We cannot afford servants,\" said he. \"You will have to do whatever is\nto be done. Now, make the fire and put on water and cook my supper.\"\n\nThe Princess knew nothing of making fires and cooking, and the beggar\nwas forced to help her. Early the next morning he called her to clean\nthe house.\n\nThus they lived for three days, and when they had eaten up all there was\nin the cottage, the man said: \"Wife, we can't go on like this, spending\nmoney and earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.\" So he went\nout and cut willows, and brought them home and taught her how to weave.\nBut it made her fingers very sore.\n\n\"I see that this will never do,\" said her husband; \"try and spin.\nPerhaps you will do that better.\"\n\nSo she sat down and tried to spin, and her husband tried to teach her;\nbut the threads cut her tender fingers till the blood ran.\n\n\"I am afraid you are good for nothing,\" said the man. \"What a bargain I\nhave got. However, I will try and set up a trade in pots and pans, and\nyou shall stand in the market and sell them.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" sighed she, \"when I stand in the market, if any of my father's\ncourt pass by and see me there, how they will laugh at me!\"\n\nBut the beggar said she must work, if she did not wish to die of hunger.\nAt first, the trade went very well, for many people, seeing such a\nbeautiful woman, bought her wares and paid their money without thinking\nof taking away the goods. Then her husband bought a fresh lot of ware,\nand she sat down one day with it in the corner of the market; but a\ndrunken soldier came by and rode his horse against her stall, and broke\nher goods into a thousand pieces. So she began to weep: \"Ah, what will\nbecome of me?\" said she. \"What will my husband say?\" So she ran home and\ntold him all.\n\n\"How silly you were,\" he said, \"to put a china-stall in the corner of\nthe market where everybody passes; but let us have no more crying. I see\nyou are not fit for this sort of work; so I will go to the King's palace\nand ask if they do not want a kitchen-maid.\"\n\nSo the next day the Princess became a kitchen-maid, and helped the cook\ndo all the dirtiest work.\n\nShe had not been there long before she heard that the eldest son of the\nKing of that country was going to be married. She looked out of one of\nthe windows and saw all the ladies and gentlemen of the court in fine\narray. Then she thought with a sore heart of her own sad fate. Her\nhusband, it is true, had been in a way kind to her; but she realized now\nthe pride and folly which had brought her so low.\n\nAll of a sudden, as she was going out to take some food to her husband\nin their humble cottage, the King's son in golden clothes broke through\nthe crowd; and when he saw a beautiful woman at the kitchen door, he\ntook her by the hand and said that she should be his partner in the\ndance.\n\nThen she trembled for fear, for when she looked up she saw that it was\nKing Grisly-Beard himself who was making fun of her. However, he led her\ninto the ballroom, and as he did so the cover of her basket came off, so\nthat the fragments of food in it fell to the floor. Then everybody\nlaughed and jeered at her, and she wished herself a thousand feet deep\nin the earth.\n\nShe sprang to the door to run away; but King Grisly-Beard overtook her,\nbrought her back, and threw his golden cloak over her shoulders.\n\n\"Do not be afraid, my dear,\" said he; \"I am the beggar who has lived\nwith you in the hut. I brought you there because I loved you. I am also\nthe soldier who upset your stall. I have done all this to cure you of\nyour pride. Now it is all over; you have learned wisdom, and it is time\nfor us to hold our marriage feast.\"\n\nThen the maids came and brought her the most beautiful robes, and her\nfather and his whole court came in and wished her much happiness. The\nfeast was grand, and all were merry; and I wish you and I had been of\nthe party.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n_The Country Rat and the Town Rat_\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nA Country Rat invited a Town Rat, an intimate friend, to pay him a\nvisit, and partake of his country fare. As they were on the bare\nplough-lands, eating their wheat-stalks and roots pulled up from the\nhedge row, the Town Rat said to his friend, \"You live here the life of\nthe ants, while in my house is the horn of plenty. I am surrounded with\nevery luxury, and if you will come with me, as I much wish you would,\nyou shall have an ample share of my dainties.\" The Country Rat was\neasily persuaded, and returned to town with his friend. On his arrival,\nthe Town Rat placed before him bread, barley, beans, dried figs, honey,\nraisins, and last of all, brought a dainty piece of cheese from a\nbasket. The Country Rat being much delighted at the sight of such good\ncheer, expressed his satisfaction in warm terms, and lamented his own\nhard fate. Just as they were beginning to eat, some one opened the door,\nand they both ran off squeaking as fast as they could to a hole so\nnarrow that two could only find room in it by squeezing. They had\nscarcely again begun their repast when someone else entered to take\nsomething out of a cupboard, on which the two Rats, more frightened than\nbefore, ran away and hid themselves. At last the Country Rat, almost\nfamished, thus addressed his friend: \"Although you have prepared for me\nso dainty a feast, I must leave you to enjoy it by yourself. It is\nsurrounded by too many dangers to please me. I prefer my bare\nplough-lands and roots from the hedge row, so that I only can live in\nsafety and without fear.\"\n\n _#Peace is more desirable than wealth#_\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: FABLES]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE GOAT\n\n\nA Fox one day tried to drink at a well when he caught his feet on a\nstone and fell into the water. It was not so deep as to drown him, yet\nthe poor Fox could not get out. Soon a Goat came that way. He, too,\nthought he would drink, but then he saw the Fox in the well, so he said,\n\"Is the water good?\" \"Oh, yes,\" said the Fox, \"it is very good and nice,\nand there is a lot of it.\" In sprang the Goat, and at once the Fox\nsprang on to his back, and thence out of the well. \"Ah, my friend!\" said\nhe, as he stood safe on the brink, \"if your brains had been as large as\nyour beard, you would have seen where you meant to jump to!\" and then\nthe sly Fox ran off and left the poor Goat in the well. _Look before you\nleap._\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO FROGS\n\n\nTwo Frogs were neighbors. The one inhabited a deep pond, far removed\nfrom public view; the other lived in a gully containing little water,\nand traversed by a country road. He that lived in the pond warned his\nfriend, and entreated him to change his residence and come and live with\nhim, saying that he could enjoy greater safety from danger and more\nabundant food. The other refused, saying that he felt it so very hard\nto remove from a place to which he had become accustomed. A few days\nafterward a heavy wagon passed through the gully, and crushed him to\ndeath under its wheels. _A wilful man will have his way to his own\nhurt._\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG IN THE MANGER\n\n\nA cross Dog lay in a manger full of hay; and when the Ox came near to\neat his own food, the rude and ill-bred cur at once began to snarl and\nbite at him. \"What a selfish Beast thou art!\" said the Ox; \"thou canst\nnot eat the hay thyself, nor wilt thou look on while others feed.\" _Do\nnot be selfish._\n\n\n\n\nTHE STAG AT THE POOL\n\n\nOne hot day, a Stag, who came down from the hills to quench his thirst\nat a pool of clear water, saw his form in the stream. \"Ah!\" said he,\n\"what fine horns these are--with what grace do they rise above my head!\nI wish that all the parts of my body were as good as they. But sometimes\nI quite blush at these poor, thin, weak legs of mine.\" While he thought\nthus, all at once the cries of the huntsman and the bay of the hounds\nwere heard. Away flew the Stag, and by the aid of these same thin, weak\nlegs he soon outran the hunt. At last he found himself in a wood, and he\nhad the bad luck to catch his fine horns in the branch of a tree, where\nhe was held till the hounds came up and caught him. He now saw how\nfoolish he had been in thinking so ill of his legs which would have\nbrought him safely away, and in being so vain of those horns which had\ncaused his ruin. _The useful is better than the beautiful._\n\n\n\n\nTHE WAR-HORSE AND THE ASS\n\n\nA War-Horse, grand in all the trappings of war, came with a great noise\ndown the road. The ground rang with the sound of his hoofs. At the same\ntime a meek Ass went with tired step down the same road with a great\nload on his back. The Horse cried to the poor Ass to \"get out of my way,\nor I will crush you beneath my feet.\" The Ass, who did not wish to make\nthe proud horse cross, at once went to the side, so that he might pass\nhim. Not long after this, the Horse was sent to the wars. There he had\nthe ill-luck to get a bad wound, and in that state, as he was not fit to\nserve in the field of war, his fine clothes were taken from him, and he\nwas sold to the man with whom the Ass dwelt. Thus the Ass and the Horse\nmet once more, but this time the grand War-Horse was, with great pains\nand toil, drawing a cart with a load of bricks. Then the Ass saw what\nsmall cause he had to think his lot worse than that of the Horse, who\nhad in times gone by treated him with so much scorn. _Pride will have a\nfall._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROGS WHO WANTED A KING\n\n\nIn old times when the Frogs swam at ease through the ponds and lakes,\nthey grew tired of their tame mode of life. They thought they would like\nsome kind of change, so they all met and with much noise prayed to Jove\nto send them a King. Jove and all the gods laughed loud at the Frogs,\nand with a view to please them he threw to them a log, and said, \"There\nis a King for you!\" The loud fall of the log made a great splash in the\nlake, which sent a thrill through all the Frogs; and it was long ere\nthey dared to take a peep at their new lord and King. At length some of\nthe more brave swam to him, and they were soon followed by the rest; and\nwhen they saw that he did not move but lay quite still, they leaped upon\nhis back, and sprang and sang on him, and cried out that he was no King\nbut a log. Such a King did not at all please them; so they sent a fresh\nprayer to Jove to beg him for a King who had some life, and would move.\nThen Jove sent a Stork, and said he thought this would suit them. The\nStork had but just come to the Frogs than he set to work to eat them up\nas fast as he could. Of course the Frogs did not like this new King even\nas well as King Log, and they sent at once to Jove and prayed to him to\ntake away the Stork. They would rather have no King at all than all be\neaten up. But Jove would not grant their prayer this time. \"No,\" said\nhe, \"it was your own wish, and if you will be so vain and foolish, you\nmust pay the cost.\" _It is better to bear the ills we have than fly to\nthose we know not of._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE OX AND THE FROG\n\n\nAn ox, drinking at a pool, trod on a brood of young frogs, and crushed\none of them to death. The mother coming up, and missing one of her sons,\ninquired of his brothers what had become of him.\n\n\"He is dead,\" said they; \"for just now a very huge beast with four great\nfeet came to the pool and crushed him with his cloven heel.\"\n\nThe frog, puffing herself out, inquired, \"Was the beast as big as _that_\nin size?\"\n\n\"Cease mother, to puff yourself out,\" said her son, \"and do not be\nangry; for you would, I assure you, sooner burst than successfully\nimitate the hugeness of that monster.\"\n\n_To know the limitations of our nature, and act accordingly, is the part\nof wisdom._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE HERON WHO WAS HARD TO PLEASE\n\n\nA heron having bolted down too large a fish, burst its deep gullet-bag\nand lay down on the shore to die. A kite seeing it, exclaimed: \"You\nrichly deserve your fate; for a bird of the air has no business to seek\nits food from the sea.\"\n\n_Everyone should be content to mind his own business._\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE WOLF\n\n\nA Shepherd Boy, who tended his sheep in a field near a village, used to\nmake fun of his friends by crying out now and then, \"A Wolf! a Wolf!\" as\nif a Wolf were at the heels of his sheep. This trick did well more than\nonce. The men who were in the village would leave their work, and come\nin hot haste to the boy's help, each man with an axe or a club with\nwhich to kill the Wolf. But as each time they found that it was a Boy's\njoke, they made up their minds not to come at his cries. One day the\nWolf did come; and the Boy cried and cried, \"The Wolf! The Wolf! Help!\nHelp!\" But it was all in vain, each man thought he was at his old game\nagain. So the Wolf ate the poor Sheep. _No one trusts a liar even when\nhe speaks the truth._\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASS, THE COCK, AND THE LION\n\n\nAn Ass and a Cock one day ate together just as a fine Lion passed by. As\nsoon as he had cast his eyes on the Ass, he made up his mind to make a\nmeal of him. But it is said that the Lion, though he is the King of\nBeasts, dreads to hear a cock crow. Now, it came to pass that, just as\nthe Lion was in the act of springing on the Ass, the Cock sent forth a\nloud and shrill crow. The Lion took to his heels at once, and ran off\nas fast as he could. The Ass saw this, and thought that the Lion was\nrunning off through fear of him. So he gave a great bray, and threw up\nhis head, and started to chase the runaway King of Beasts. But they had\nnot gone far in this way when the Lion turned round. He soon saw that\nthere was but an Ass behind him; so he stood still in his flight, laid\nhold of the poor Ass, and soon tore him to pieces. _Pride oft leads to\nruin._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION, THE BEAR, AND THE FOX\n\n\nA Lion and a Bear were roaming together in the wood when they found a\ndead Fawn. \"This belongs to me,\" cried the Bear, for she had been the\nfirst to catch sight of it. \"No! to me,\" said the Lion; \"am I not the\nKing of Beasts?\" As they could not agree as to who should own the body\nof the Fawn, they fell to blows. The fight was hard and long; and at\nlast both were so faint and weak with loss of blood that they lay down\non the ground and panted, for they were quite out of breath. Just then a\nFox went by, and saw that the Bear and the Lion had no strength left, so\nhe quickly stepped in between them and bore off the Fawn as his prize.\n\"Ah!\" said they, \"how foolish we have been! The end of all our fighting\nhas been to give that sly scamp the Fox a good meal.\" _Half a loaf is\nbetter than no bread._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HORSE AND THE STAG\n\n\nThe Horse had the plain entirely to himself. A Stag intruded into his\ndomain, and shared his pasture. The Horse desiring to revenge himself\non the stranger, requested a man, if he were willing to help him in\npunishing the Stag. The man replied, that if the Horse would receive\na bit in his mouth, and agree to carry him, that he would contrive\neffectual weapons against the Stag. The Horse consented and allowed the\nman to mount him. From that hour he found that, instead of obtaining\nrevenge on the Stag, he had enslaved himself to the service of man.\n_Beware of him who demands pay for a courtesy._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION AND THE BOAR\n\n\nOn a summer day, when the great heat induced a general thirst, a Lion\nand a Boar came at the same moment to a small well to drink. They\nfiercely disputed which of them should drink first, and were soon\nengaged in the agonies of a mortal combat. On their stopping on a sudden\nto take breath for the fiercer renewal of the strife, they saw some\nVultures waiting in the distance to feast on the one which should fall\nfirst. They at once made up their quarrel, saying, \"_It is better for us\nto make friends than to become the food of Crows or Vultures._\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE HUNTSMAN AND THE FISHERMAN\n\n\nA Huntsman, returning with his dogs from the field, fell in by chance\nwith a Fisherman, bringing home a basket well laden with fish. The\nHuntsman wished to have the fish; and their owner experienced an equal\nlonging for the contents of the game-bag. They quickly agreed to\nexchange the produce of their day's sport. Each was so well pleased with\nhis bargain that for some time they made the same exchange day after\nday. A neighbor said to them, \"If you go on in this way, you will soon\ndestroy, by frequent use, the pleasure of your exchange, and each will\nagain wish to retain the fruits of his own sport.\" _Abstain and enjoy._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN\n\n\nAn ass, having put on the lion's skin, roamed about in the forest, and\namused himself by frightening all the foolish animals he met with in his\nwanderings. At last, meeting a fox, he tried to frighten him also, but\nthe fox no sooner heard the sound of his voice than he exclaimed: \"I\nmight possibly have been frightened myself, if I had not heard you\nbray.\"\n\n_Deceitfulness has too many ill-concealed marks to escape discovery by\nsomeone, sometime._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE CAT AND THE MONKEY]\n\n [Illustration: A MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS]\n\n [Illustration: THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE]\n\n [Illustration: THE TOWN RAT AND THE COUNTRY RAT]\n\n FROM DRAWINGS BY BESS BRUCE CLEVELAND\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE HEN AND THE GOLDEN EGGS]\n\n [Illustration: THE LION AND THE GNAT]\n\n [Illustration: THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN]\n\n [Illustration: THE OX AND THE FROG]\n\n FROM DRAWINGS BY BESS BRUCE CLEVELAND\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE HARE and THE TORTOISE\n\n\nA hare one day ridiculed the short feet and slow pace of the tortoise.\nThe latter laughing, said: \"Though you be swift as the wind, I will beat\nyou in a race.\" The hare, deeming her assertion to be simply impossible\nassented to the proposal; and they agreed that the fox should choose the\ncourse and fix the goal. On the day appointed for the race they started\ntogether. The tortoise never for a moment stopped, but went on with a\nslow but steady pace straight to the end of the course. The hare,\ntrusting to his native swiftness, cared little about the race, and lying\ndown by the wayside, fell fast asleep. At last, waking up, and moving as\nfast as he could, he saw the tortoise had reached the goal, and was\ncomfortably dozing after her fatigue.\n\n _Slow and steady wins the race._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE WOOD-CUTTER\n\n\nA Fox, running before the hounds, came across a Wood-cutter felling an\noak, and besought him to show him a safe hiding-place. The Wood-cutter\nadvised him to take shelter in his own hut. The Fox crept in and hid\nhimself in a corner. The huntsman came up with his hounds, in a few\nminutes, and inquired of the Wood-cutter if he had not seen the Fox. He\ndeclared that he had not seen him, and yet pointed, all the time he was\nspeaking, to the hut where the Fox lay hid. The huntsman took no notice\nof the signs, but, believing his word, hastened forward in the chase. As\nsoon as they were well away, the Fox departed without taking any notice\nof the Wood-cutter: whereon he called to him, and reproached him,\nsaying, \"You ungrateful fellow, you owe your life to me, and yet you\nleave me without a word of thanks.\" The Fox replied, \"Indeed, I should\nhave thanked you fervently, _if your deeds had been as good as your\nwords, and if your hands had not been traitors to your speech_.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION AND OTHER BEASTS ON A HUNT\n\n\nThe Lion and a lot of other Beasts made a plan to share whatever they\ncaught when they went on a hunt. The first day they went out they took a\nfat Stag, which was cut up into three parts. The Lion said he would be\nthe chief judge, and laid his paw on one of the shares, and thus spoke:\n\"This first piece I claim as your lord and king; this part, too, I claim\nas the most brave and most fierce of you all; and as for the third,\" he\ncried, as he bent his big, bright eyes on the crowd of Beasts, \"I mean\nto take that, too, and let me see which of you dare stop me!\" _Might is\napt to make a right._\n\n\n\n\nTHE EAGLE AND THE ARROW\n\n\nA man shot a shaft at an Eagle, and hit him in the heart. When in the\npains of death, the Eagle saw that the dart was made in part with one of\nhis own quills. \"Ah!\" said he, \"how much more sharp are wounds which are\nmade by arms which we have ourselves made!\" _It is sad to find that we\nare the cause of our own ills._\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOUSE AND THE FROG\n\n\nOne day a Mouse met a Frog, and so well did they like each other that\nthey said they would travel together. The Frog feared lest the Mouse\nshould come to harm, and so tied his own hind-leg to the fore-leg of the\nMouse. After a walk of some days like this on land, they came to a pond.\nThe Frog made a start to swim, and bade the Mouse be of good heart.\nWhen they had got half-way over, the Frog made a sharp plunge to the\nbottom--and of course took the Mouse with him. The poor Mouse tried so\nhard to get to the top of the water again, and made such a splash, and\nsuch a noise, that a Kite that was flying past heard it, flew down,\ncaught the Mouse, bore him off, and took the Frog with him. _Self-help\nis best._\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE GOAT\n\n\nAs a Goat stood on the top of a high rock, a Wolf who could not get at\nher where she was thus spoke to her: \"Pray come down; I much fear that\nyou will fall from that great height; and you will, too, find the grass\ndown here much more fresh and thick.\" \"I am much pleased by your kind\nthought,\" said the Goat, \"but do not mind if I do not accept it, as I\nthink that you think more of your own meal than of mine.\" _Keep far from\nthose you do not trust._\n\n\n\n\nTHE BAD DOG\n\n\nThere was once a Dog which was so fierce and bad that his master had to\ntie a big clog round his neck lest he should bite and tease men and boys\nin the street. The Dog thought that this was a thing to be proud of, so\nran through the best known streets, and grew so vain that he scorned the\ndogs he met, and would not be seen with them. But one of them said in\nhis ear, \"You are wrong, my friend; the badge round your neck is a mark\nof shame, not a cause for pride.\" _Some win fame only for their folly._\n\n\n\n\nTHE KID AND THE WOLF\n\n\nA Kid who had left the side of her dam was caught by a Wolf. When she\nsaw that the Wolf had got her fast, and that there was no chance of\nflight, the Kid said, \"If my life is to be short, let it at least be\ngay. Do you pipe for a time, and I will dance.\" So the Wolf set to play\nand the Kid to dance; but the music was heard by some Dogs who were\nnear, and they ran to find out what it was for. When the Wolf saw them\non their way he ran off as fast as his legs could go, and then the Dogs\ntook the Kid home to her dam. _There is oft a slip between the cup and\nthe lip._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE GRAPES\n\n\nA famished fox saw some clusters of rich black grapes hanging from a\ntrellised vine. She resorted to all her tricks to get them, but wearied\nherself in vain, for she could not reach high enough. At last, she\nturned away, beguiling herself of her disappointment by saying: \"The\ngrapes are sour, and not ripe as I thought.\"\n\n_Disappointment may be lightened by philosophy, even if the latter is\nwrong._\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE RAVEN\n\n\nA raven having stolen a bit of cheese, perched in a tree, and held it in\nher beak. A fox seeing her longed to possess himself of the cheese, and\nby wily stratagem succeeded. \"How handsome is the raven,\" he exclaimed,\n\"in the beauty of her shape, and in the fairness of her complexion! Oh,\nif her voice were only equal to her beauty, she would deservedly be\nconsidered the Queen of the birds!\" This he said deceitfully; but the\nraven, anxious to refute the reflection cast upon her voice, set up a\nloud caw, and dropped the cheese. The fox quickly picked it up, and thus\naddressed the raven: \"My good raven, your voice is right enough, but\nyour wit is wanting.\"\n\n _Flattery is often a mask to hide evil._\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE BULL AND THE GOAT\n\n\nA Bull fled from a Lion and ran into a cave where a Goat lived. The Goat\ntried to stop his entrance, and struck at him with his horns. The Bull,\nthough cross at this, did not butt at the Goat on the spot, but just\nsaid, \"Do not think that I fear you. Wait till the Lion is out of sight,\nand then I will treat you as you deserve.\" _Never profit by the woes of\nothers._\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAVEN AND THE SWAN\n\n\nA Raven who did not like his black coat had the wish to grow as white as\na Swan. So he left his old friends and haunts, and went to the streams\nand lakes, where he spent all his time washing and dressing his clothes;\nbut all was of no use, he was just as black as ever; and as he had not\nhad food that was good for him, he soon grew ill and died. _We cannot\nchange our skins._\n\n\n\n\nTHE THIEF AND THE DOG\n\n\nOne night a Thief came to a house that he meant to rob; but he knew that\nhe had no chance to do this till he had made the Dog who took care of it\nquiet. So he threw to him some sops with the hope that that would stop\nhis bark. \"Get out will you!\" cried the Dog; \"I did not trust you from\nthe first, but now I know that you mean no good!\" _Do not take a bribe\nto do wrong._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HORSE AND THE LOADED ASS\n\n\nA man who had a Horse and an Ass had a way of putting all the load on\nthe back of the Ass, and none on the Horse. One day as they went in this\nway by a long, long road, the poor tired Ass tried to get the Horse to\nhelp him to bear his load. But the Horse was not kind, and said lots of\ncruel things to the Ass and said he must trudge on in front. The Ass did\ntrudge on; but the weight was too much for him, so he fell down on the\nroad, and at once died. The man then came up, took the load from the\nback of the Ass, and laid it on that of the Horse; and made him bear the\nbody of the Ass, too. So the Horse was punished, and at last had to bear\nthe whole of the load. _Be kind to the weak._\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASS WITH THE SALT\n\n\nA Man who had an Ass heard that salt was to be bought for less gold at\nthe seaside than where he was, so he went there to buy some. He put as\nmuch on his Ass as he could bear, and was going home, when just as they\nhad to cross a small bridge, the Ass fell into the stream; the salt at\nonce melted, so the Ass with ease got up the bank, and, now free from\nhis load, went on his way with a light heart. Very soon after this the\nman went to the seaside once more, and put still more salt on his Ass.\nAs they went their way they came once more to the bridge where the Ass\nfell into the stream. The Ass thought of his fall and what had come of\nit, and this time took care to roll into the water once more; the salt\nwas again gone, and he was free from his load. The Man was cross at\nthis, and thought to cure the Ass of this trick, so the third time he\ngave him a load of sponges. As soon as they came to the bridge the Ass\nfell into the stream; but as the sponges drew in the water he found as\nhe trudged home that this time his load had grown in weight. _We may\nplay a trick once too often._\n\n\n\n\nTHE COCK AND THE JEWEL\n\n\nAs a young Cock tried to find food for himself and his Hens in a\nfarmyard, he saw a gem which shone with bright rays, and which some one\nhad let fall there. The Cock did not see what use such a thing could be\nto him, and did not stop to think if it might be of use to any one else.\nBut he shook his head with a wise air, and said: \"You shine like a very\nfine and rare thing, but for my part my taste lies in quite another\nline. I would rather have a grain of corn than all the gems in the\nworld.\" _Learn how to use all things for good._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX WHO HAD LOST HIS TAIL\n\n\nA Fox, caught in a trap, escaped with the loss of his \"brush.\"\nHenceforth feeling his life a burden from the shame and ridicule to\nwhich he was exposed, he schemed to bring all the other Foxes into a\nlike condition with himself, that in the common loss he might the\nbetter conceal his own deprivation. He assembled a good many Foxes, and\npublicly advised them to cut off their tails saying \"that they would not\nonly look much better without them, but that they would get rid of the\nweight of the brush, which was a great inconvenience.\" One of them\ninterrupting him said, \"_If you had not yourself lost your tail, my\nfriend, you would not thus counsel us._\"\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE EAGLE AND THE JACKDAW\n\n\nAn eagle flying down from his eyrie on a lofty rock, seized upon a\nlamb, and carried him aloft in his talons. A jackdaw, who witnessed the\ncapture of the lamb, was stirred with envy, and determined to emulate\nthe strength and flight of the eagle. He flew around with a great whir\nof his wings, and settled upon a large ram, with the intention of\ncarrying him off; but his claws becoming entangled in his fleece he was\nnot able to release himself, although he fluttered with his feathers as\nmuch as he could. The shepherd, seeing what had happened, ran up and\ncaught him. He at once clipped his wings, and taking him home at night,\ngave him to his children. On their saying: \"Father, what kind of bird is\nit?\" he replied: \"To my certain knowledge he is a daw; but he will have\nit that he is an eagle.\"\n\n _We should know our weakness and our strength._\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE HEN AND THE GOLDEN EGGS\n\n\nA Cottager and his wife had a hen which laid every day a golden egg.\nThey supposed that it must contain a great lump of gold in its inside,\nand killed it in order that they might get it, when to their surprise\nthey found that the hen differed in no respect from their other hens.\nThe foolish pair, thus hoping to become rich all at once, deprived\nthemselves of the gain of which they were day by day assured.\n\n_It is better to be content with small things that are certain than to\nseek big things that are uncertain._\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG AND THE ASS\n\n\nAn Ass laden with loaves of bread was going on a long journey with a dog\nto guard him from harm. Before the journey was ended both were famished\nwith hunger, which the Ass was able to appease by eating the grass and\nthistles that grew by the roadside. Seeing this, the dog's hunger became\nstill sharper, so that he begged for a piece of bread from the Ass's\nload.\n\n\"If you are hungry,\" said the Ass rudely, \"you can eat grass just as I\ndo. I have no bread to give you.\"\n\nJust then they saw, in the distance, a Wolf loping toward them, and the\ntrembling Ass begged the dog to protect him.\n\n\"No,\" said the dog. \"People who live alone will have to fight alone.\"\nAnd he went off and left the unfortunate Ass to his fate.\n\n_When your friends need you, go to their assistance. You do not know\nwhen you may need them._\n\n\n\n\nTHE NORTH WIND AND THE SUN\n\n\nThe North Wind and the Sun had a discussion as to which was the\nstronger, and had the more power, and finally agreed that the first\nto compel a traveler to remove his cloak should be the winner in the\ncontest between them. The North Wind began, by blowing a strong blast,\nthinking to tear away the traveler's cloak. But his breath was so cold,\nthat he only succeeded in making the traveler wind his garment more and\nmore closely around him, until he resembled a sheath.\n\nThen came the Sun's turn, and he shed his beams on the poor man's head\nso that he loosened his cloak, and basked in their warmth, and finally\nquite forgetful of the cold, he cast his cloak aside and took shelter\nfrom the heat under a tree that grew by the roadside.\n\n_Gentleness is often stronger than force._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE LION\n\n\nA Fox who had never yet seen a Lion, when he fell in with him by a\ncertain chance for the first time in the forest, was so frightened that\nhe was near dying with fear. On his meeting with him for the second\ntime, he was still much alarmed, but not to the same extent as at first.\nOn seeing him the third time, he so increased in boldness that he went\nup to him, and commenced a familiar conversation with him.\n\n_Acquaintance softens prejudices._\n\n\n\n\nTHE CROW AND THE PITCHER\n\n\nA Crow perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and, hoping to find water,\nflew to it with great delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his\ngrief that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get\nat it. He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all\nhis efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he\ncould carry, and dropped them one by one with his beak, into the\npitcher, until he brought the water within his reach, and thus saved\nhis life.\n\n_Necessity is the mother of invention._\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASS AND HIS SHADOW\n\n\nA Traveler hired an Ass to convey him to a distant place. The day being\nintensely hot, and the sun shining in its strength, the traveler stopped\nto rest, and sought shelter from the heat under the Shadow of the Ass.\nAs this afforded only protection for one, and as the traveler and the\nowner of the Ass both claimed it, a violent dispute arose between them\nas to which had the right to it. The owner maintained that he had let\nthe Ass only, and not his Shadow. The traveler asserted that he had,\nwith the hire of the Ass, hired his Shadow also. The quarrel proceeded\nfrom words to blows, and while the men fought the Ass galloped off.\n\n_In quarreling about the shadow we often lose the substance._\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOLF AND THE CRANE\n\n\nA Wolf, having a bone stuck in his throat, hired a Crane for a large sum\nto put his head into his throat and draw out the bone. When the Crane\nhad extracted the bone, and demanded the promised payment, the Wolf,\ngrinning and grinding his teeth, exclaimed: \"Why, you have surely\nalready a sufficient recompense in having been permitted to draw out\nyour head in safety from the mouth and jaws of a wolf.\"\n\n_In serving the wicked, expect no reward, and be thankful if you escape\ninjury for your pains._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CRANE\n\n\nA fox invited a crane to supper, and provided nothing for his\nentertainment but some soup made of pulse, and poured out into a broad,\nflat stone dish. The soup fell out of the long bill of the crane at\nevery mouthful, and his vexation at not being able to eat afforded the\nfox most intense amusement.\n\nThe crane, in his turn, asked the fox to sup with him, and set before\nher a flagon, with a long, narrow mouth, so that he could easily insert\nhis neck, and enjoy its contents at his leisure; while the fox, unable\neven to taste it, met with a fitting requital, after the fashion of her\nown hospitality.\n\n_Unfeeling jests and pranks at the expense of others beget unhappiness\nand discomfort at the expense of ourselves._\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAT AND THE MONKEY\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\nA monkey once found some chestnuts, which he put on the hot coals of a\nfire to roast. He was puzzled, however, as to how he should get them\nagain without burning himself. Seeing a nice tabby cat in a corner, he\nthus accosted her: \"Please come and sit with me awhile, for I am\nlonely.\" Puss took a seat at the monkey's side, without thinking of\nharm, when he jumped on her back. Seizing both her paws, he made her\npull the nuts from the fire, despite her cries.\n\n_Study your acquaintances, and beware of those who, in the guise of\nfriendship, would use you for their own selfish purposes._\n\n\n\n\nTHE DANCING MONKEYS\n\n\nA Prince had some Monkeys trained to dance. Being naturally great mimics\nof men's actions, they showed themselves most apt pupils; and, when\narrayed in their rich clothes and masks, they danced as well as any of\nthe guests. The spectacle was often repeated with great applause, till\non one occasion a guest, bent on mischief, took from his pocket a\nhandful of nuts, and threw them on the stage. The Monkeys at the sight\nof the nuts forgot their dancing, and became (as indeed they were)\nMonkeys instead of actors, and pulling off their masks, and tearing\ntheir robes, they fought with one another for the nuts. The dancing\nspectacle thus came to an end, amidst the laughter and ridicule of the\naudience.\n\n_Habits are not easily broken._\n\n\n\n\nTHE HARES AND THE FROGS\n\n\nThe Hares, oppressed with a sense of their own exceeding timidity,\nand weary of the perpetual alarm to which they were exposed, with\none accord determined to put an end to themselves and their troubles,\nby jumping from a lofty precipice into a deep lake below. As they\nscampered off in a very numerous body to carry out their resolve,\nthe Frogs lying on the banks of the lake heard the noise of their\nfeet, and rushed helter-skelter to the deep water for safety. On seeing\nthe rapid disappearance of the Frogs, one of the Hares cried out to his\ncompanions: \"Stay, my friends, do not do as you intended; for you now\nsee that other creatures who yet live are more timorous than ourselves.\"\n\n_Conquer fear._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION AND THE GNAT\n\n\nA Gnat came to a Lion and said: \"I do not the least fear you, nor are\nyou stronger than I am. You can scratch with your claws, and bite with\nyour teeth--so can a woman in her quarrels. Let us fight, and see who\nshall conquer.\" The Gnat, having sounded his horn, fastened himself upon\nthe Lion, and stung him on the nostrils and parts of the face devoid of\nhair. The Lion, trying to crush him, tore himself with his claws, until\nhe punished himself severely. The Gnat thus prevailed over the Lion,\nand, buzzing about in a song of triumph, flew away. But shortly\nafterward he became entangled in the meshes of a cobweb, and was eaten\nby a spider. He greatly lamented his fate, saying: \"Woe is me! that I,\nwho can wage war successfully with the hugest beast, should perish\nmyself from this spider, the most inconsiderable of insects!\"\n\n_Esteem yourself neither highly nor lowly, but walk humbly in the face\nof the Unknown._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROGS AND THE BULLS\n\n\nTwo frogs, sitting on the edge of a pond saw two Bulls fighting in a\nmeadow close by. \"Alas!\" cried one of the frogs. \"Those dreadful beasts\nare fighting. What will become of us!\"\n\n\"There is no reason for fear,\" said the other frog. \"Their quarrels have\nnothing to do with us. Their lives are different from ours, and cannot\naffect us.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the first frog, \"you are wrong. One of them will certainly\ntriumph. The vanquished will take refuge from the victor in our marshes,\nand we shall be trampled under his feet.\"\n\n_When the strong fall out, the weak are the greatest sufferers from\ntheir quarrels._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LARK AND HER YOUNG ONES\n\n\nA Lark had made her nest in the early Spring on the young green wheat.\nThe brood had almost grown to their proper strength, and attained the\nuse of their wings and the full plumage of their feathers, when the\nowner of the field, overlooking his crop, now quite ripe, said, \"The\ntime is come when I must send to all my neighbors to help me with my\nharvest.\" One of the young Larks heard his speech, and told it to his\nmother, asking her to what place they should move for safety.\n\n\"There is no occasion to move yet, my son,\" she replied; \"the man who\nonly sends to his friends to help him with his harvest is not really in\nearnest.\" The owner of the field again came a few days later, and saw\nthe wheat shedding the grain from excess of ripeness, and said, \"I will\ncome myself to-morrow with my laborers, and with as many reapers as I\ncan hire, and will get in the harvest.\" The Lark on hearing these words\nsaid to her brood, \"It is time now to be off, my little ones, for the\nman is in earnest this time; he no longer trusts to his friends, but\nwill reap the field himself.\"\n\n_Self-help is the best help._\n\n\n\n\nBELLING THE CAT\n\n\nThe mice who lived in the old house met one day to discuss the means to\nbe used to get rid of a large, fierce black cat that had taken up her\nabode there, and made her living by hunting and eating them up one by\none, so that their numbers were greatly reduced. Each mouse lived in\nconstant dread of being pounced upon and eaten.\n\nEven the youngest scarcely dared to scurry across the floor, its little\nheart beating pit-a-pat, and they found it so hard to get time to look\nfor food that they all grew thin.\n\nThey lived in such dread that when they met, no one at first could think\nof anything to say. But at last a young mouse plucked up his spirits and\nsaid: \"I will tell you what to do. Fasten a bell on the cat's neck. As\nshe walks about the bell will ring, and we shall hear it and can tell\nwhere she is.\"\n\nThis seemed so good a plan that the mice all chattered joyously, until\nan old mouse asked quietly: \"Who will go out and bell the cat?\"\n\nNone of the mice dared; and they quickly realized that _what seems an\neasy plan may be hard to carry out, and some things are easier said than\ndone_.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nA MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR ASS\n\n\nA miller and his son were driving their ass to a neighboring fair to\nsell him. They had not gone far when they met a troop of women collected\naround a well. \"Look,\" cried one, \"did you ever see such fellows, to be\ntrudging on foot when they might ride?\" The old man, hearing this, made\nhis son mount, and continued to walk at his side.\n\nPresently they came to a group of old men in debate. \"There,\" said one\nof them, \"it proves what I was a-saying: what respect is shown to old\nage in these days? Do you see that idle lad riding, while his old father\nhas to walk? Get down, you young scapegrace, and let the old man rest\nhis weary limbs.\" Upon this the old man made his son dismount, and got\nup himself.\n\nSoon they met a company of women and children. \"Why, you lazy old\nfellow,\" cried several tongues at once, \"how can you ride upon the\nbeast, while that poor little lad can hardly keep pace by the side of\nyou?\" The miller immediately took up his son behind him. They had now\nalmost reached the town.\n\n\"Pray, honest friend,\" said a citizen, \"is that ass your own?\" \"Yes,\"\nsaid the old man. \"Oh, one would not have thought so,\" said the other,\n\"by the way you load him. Why, you two fellows are better able to carry\nthe poor beast than he you.\" So they tied the legs of the ass together,\nand by the aid of a pole endeavored to carry him on their shoulders over\na bridge. The sight brought the people in crowds to laugh at it; till\nthe ass broke the cords that held him and fell into the river. Upon\nthis, the old man, vexed and ashamed, made his way home.\n\n_In trying to please everybody one is quite likely to please nobody._\n\n\n\n\nTHE TORTOISE AND THE EAGLE\n\n\nA Tortoise, lazily basking in the sun, complained to the sea-birds of\nher hard fate, that no one would teach her to fly. An Eagle hovering\nnear, heard her lamentation, and demanded what reward she would give\nhim, if he would take her aloft, and float her in the air. \"I will give\nyou,\" she said, \"all the riches of the Red Sea.\" \"I will teach you to\nfly then,\" said the Eagle; and taking her up in his talons, he carried\nher almost to the clouds,--when suddenly letting her go, she fell on a\nlofty mountain, and dashed her shell to pieces. The Tortoise exclaimed\nin the moment of death: \"I have deserved my present fate; for what had I\nto do with wings and clouds, who can with difficulty move about on the\nearth?\"\n\n_If men had all they wished, they would be often ruined._\n\n\n\n\nTHE PEACOCK AND JUNO\n\n\nThe Peacock made complaint to Juno that, while the small nightingale\npleased every ear with his song, he no sooner opened his mouth than he\nbecame a laughing-stock of all who heard him. The Goddess, to console\nhim, said, \"But you far excel in beauty and in size. The splendor of the\nemerald shines in your neck, and you unfold a tail gorgeous with painted\nplumage.\" \"But for what purpose have I,\" said the bird, \"this dumb\nbeauty so long as I am surpassed in song?\" \"The lot of each,\" replied\nJuno, \"has been assigned by the will of the Fates--to thee, beauty; to\nthe eagle, strength; to the nightingale, song; to the raven, favorable,\nand to the crow, unfavorable auguries. These are all contented with the\nendowments allotted to them.\"\n\n_Contentment is happiness._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION, THE FOX, AND THE ASS\n\n\nThe Lion, the Fox, and the Ass entered into an agreement to assist each\nother in the chase. Having secured a large booty, the Lion, on their\nreturn from the forest, asked the Ass to allot his due portion to each\nof the three partners in the treaty. The Ass carefully divided the spoil\ninto three equal shares, and modestly requested the two others to make\nthe first choice. The Lion, bursting into a great rage, devoured the\nAss. Then he requested the Fox to do him the favor to make a division.\nThe Fox accumulated all that they had killed into one large heap, and\nleft to himself the smallest possible morsel. The Lion said, \"Who has\ntaught you, my very excellent fellow, the art of division? You are\nperfect to a fraction.\" He replied, \"I learnt it from the Ass, by\nwitnessing his fate.\"\n\n_Happy is the man who learns from the misfortunes of others._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FATHER AND HIS SONS\n\n\nA Father had a family of sons who were perpetually quarreling among\nthemselves. When he failed to heal their disputes by his exhortations,\nhe determined to give them a practical illustration of the evils of\ndisunion and for this purpose he one day told them to bring him a bundle\nof sticks. When they had done so, he placed the faggot into the hands of\neach of them in succession, and ordered them to break it in pieces. They\neach tried with all their strength and were not able to do it. He next\nunclosed the faggot, and took the sticks separately, one by one, and\nagain put them into their hands, on which they broke them easily. He\nthen addressed them in these words: \"My sons, if you are of one mind,\nand unite to assist each other, you will be as this faggot, uninjured by\nall the attempts of your enemies; but _if you are divided among\nyourselves, you will be broken as easily as these sticks_.\"\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE DOVE AND THE ANT\n\n\nAn ant went to the bank of a river to quench its thirst, and, being\ncarried away by the rush of the stream, was on the point of being\ndrowned. A dove, sitting on a tree overhanging the water, plucked a leaf\nand let it fall into the stream close to her. The ant, climbing on to\nit, floated in safety to the bank. Shortly afterward a bird-catcher came\nand stood under the tree, and laid his lime-twigs for the dove, which\nsat in the branches. The ant, perceiving his design, stung him in the\nfoot. He suddenly threw down the twigs, and thereupon made the dove take\nwing.\n\n_The grateful heart will find opportunities to show gratitude._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE FOX AND THE CAT\n\n\nA fox was boasting to a cat of its clever devices for escaping its\nenemies. \"I have a whole bag of tricks,\" he said, \"which contains a\nhundred ways of escaping my enemies.\"\n\n\"I have only one,\" said the cat, \"but I can generally manage with that.\"\nJust at that moment they heard the cry of a pack of hounds coming toward\nthem, and the cat immediately scampered up a tree and hid himself in the\nboughs. \"This is my plan,\" said the cat. \"What are you going to do?\"\n\nThe fox thought first of one way, then of another, and while he was\ndebating, the hounds came nearer, and at last the fox in his confusion\nwas caught up by the hounds and soon killed by the huntsmen.\n\n_Better one carefully thought out plan of action than a hundred untried\nideas._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE FOX AND THE GRAPES]\n\n [Illustration: THE FOX AND THE CAT]\n\n [Illustration: THE FOX AND THE RAVEN]\n\n [Illustration: THE FOX AND THE CRANE]\n\n FROM DRAWINGS BY BESS BRUCE CLEVELAND\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE HERON WHO WAS HARD TO PLEASE]\n\n [Illustration: THE ANTS AND THE GRASSHOPPER]\n\n [Illustration: THE EAGLE AND THE JACKDAW]\n\n [Illustration: THE DOVE AND THE ANT]\n\n FROM DRAWINGS BY BESS BRUCE CLEVELAND\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE ANTS AND THE GRASSHOPPER\n\n\nThe ants were employing a fine winter's day in drying grain collected in\nthe summer-time. A grasshopper, perishing from famine, passed by and\nearnestly begged for a little food. The ants inquired of him: \"Why did\nyou not treasure up food during the summer?\" He replied: \"I had not\nleisure enough. I passed the days in singing.\" They then said in\nderision: \"If you were foolish enough to sing all the summer you must\ndance supperless to bed in the winter.\"\n\n_In living, be guided much by the laws of nature, and not by the hope of\nmercy._\n\n\n\n\nFABLES FROM INDIA\n\nADAPTED BY RAMASWAMI RAJU\n\n\n\n\nTHE GLOW-WORM AND THE DAW\n\nA Jackdaw once ran up to a Glow-Worm and was about to seize him. \"Wait a\nmoment, good friend,\" said the Worm; \"and you shall hear something to\nyour advantage.\"\n\n\"Ah! what is it?\" said the Daw.\n\n\"I am but one of the many Glow-Worms that live in this forest. If you\nwish to have them all, follow me,\" said the Glow-Worm.\n\n\"Certainly!\" said the Daw.\n\nThen the Glow-Worm led him to a place in the wood where a fire had been\nkindled by some woodmen, and pointing to the sparks flying about, said,\n\"There you find the Glow-Worms warming themselves round a fire. When you\nhave done with them, I shall show you some more, at a distance from this\nplace.\"\n\nThe Daw darted at the sparks, and tried to swallow some of them; but his\nmouth being burned by the attempt, he ran away exclaiming, \"Ah, the\nGlow-Worm is a dangerous little creature!\"\n\nSaid the Glow-Worm with pride, \"_Wickedness yields to wisdom!_\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE VILLAGERS\n\n\nA Fox that had long been the dread of the village poultry yard was one\nday found lying breathless in a field. The report went abroad that,\nafter all, he had been caught and killed by some one. In a moment,\neverybody in the village came out to see the dead Fox. The village\nCock, with all his Hens and Chicks, was also there to enjoy the sight.\n\nThe Fox then got up, and shaking off his drowsiness, said, \"I ate a\nnumber of Hens and Chicks last night; hence I must have slumbered longer\nthan usual.\"\n\nThe Cock counted his Hens and Chicks and found a number wanting. \"Alas!\"\nsaid he, \"how is it I did not know of it?\"\n\n\"My dear sir,\" said the Fox, as he retreated to the wood, \"it was last\nnight I had a good meal on your Hens and Chicks, yet you did not know of\nit. A moment ago they found me lying in the field, and you knew of it at\nonce.\" _Ill news travels fast!_\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROG AND THE SNAKE\n\n\nA Snake and a Frog were friends in a pond. The Snake taught the Frog to\nhiss, and the Frog taught the Snake to croak. The Snake would hide in\nthe reeds and croak. The Frogs would say, \"Why, there is one of us,\" and\ncome near. The Snake would then dart at them, and eat all he could\nseize. The Frog would hide in the reeds and hiss. His kin would say,\n\"Why, there is the Snake,\" and keep off.\n\nAfter some time, the Frogs found out the trick of the Snake, and took\ncare not to come near him. Thus the Snake got no Frogs to eat for a long\ntime; so he seized his friend to gobble him up.\n\nThe Frog then said, though too late, \"By becoming your friend, I lost\nthe company of my kindred, and am now losing my life.\" _One's neck to\nfate one has to bend, when one would make so bad a friend!_\n\n\n\n\nTHE ASSEMBLY OF ANIMALS\n\n\nOnce there was a great assembly of the animals in a wood. The Lion said,\n\"Look how great my valor! 'Tis this that makes me king of the woods.\"\n\nThe Fox said, \"Look, how deep my cunning! 'Tis this that feeds me so\nwell.\"\n\nThe Peacock said, \"Look, how bright my feathers! 'Tis this that makes me\nthe wonder and admiration of the wood.\"\n\nThe Elephant said, \"Look, how long and powerful my tusks! there is\nnothing that can resist them.\"\n\nA Toad, who lived secure in the heart of a rock, close by, said, \"'Tis\nthe Lion's valor that leads him to the herds, and gets him killed by the\nhunters. 'Tis the Fox's cunning that brings him to the furrier at last.\n'Tis the plumes of the Peacock that men covet; hence his ruin. The\nElephant is hunted for his tusks, and they are his bane.\" _In the mark\nof your vanity is your death!_\n\n\n\n\nTHE COCK AND HIS THREE HENS\n\n\nA Cock, named Crimson Crest, was once strutting about with his three\nhens, Meek Love, Bright Wit, and Fine Feather. The hens, being in very\ngood spirits, said, \"Ah, how we love you!\"\n\n\"Why do you love me at all?\" said Crimson Crest.\n\n\"Because,\" said they, \"of the noble qualities that adorn your mind.\"\n\n\"Are you sure,\" said he, \"you love me for the qualities that adorn my\nmind?\"\n\n\"Yes, we are,\" said the three with one voice.\n\nAfter having gone over some distance, Crimson Crest dropped down like\none dead.\n\nMeek Love wept, saying, \"Ah, how he loved us!\"\n\nBright Wit wept, saying, \"Ah, how well he crowed!\"\n\nFine Feather wept, saying, \"Ah, what bright plumes he had!\"\n\nCrimson Crest some time after showed signs of life.\n\nMeek Love cried, \"Oh, live and love us again!\"\n\nBright Wit cried, \"Oh, let us hear your crowing again!\"\n\nFine Feather cried, \"Oh, let us see your bright plumes again!\"\n\nThen Crimson Crest got up like one waking from a trance, and with a\nhearty laugh exclaimed, \"Ladies, you fancied you all loved me for one\nand the same reason; but now you see. _There is many a way to love as\nthey say!_\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLACK DOG AND THE WHITE DOG\n\n\nA Man in the East once went about saying, \"I can put these two dogs\ntogether, one of which is white, and the other black, as you see, and\nmake a gray dog of them; and turn the gray dog again to the black dog\nand the white dog, if people would pay for the fun.\"\n\nA Wag who heard these words removed the two dogs at night, and left\ninstead a gray cur. The man rose up in the morning and complained\nbitterly to the crowd, which came to see him, that some one had stolen\nhis two dogs.\n\n\"No,\" said the Wag, who was one of the crowd, \"some one has simply saved\nyou the trouble of putting the two dogs together, and making a gray dog\nof them. So you must now perform the other part of your trick, and make\nthe black dog and the white dog out of this gray cur.\"\n\nThe man quietly threw his wallet over his shoulders and walked away. The\nWag and the crowd shouted--\"The tongue hath no bone in it. It can turn\nas you twist it.\" _It is one thing to say, and another thing to do!_\n\n\n\n\nTHE ELEPHANT AND THE APE\n\n\nAn Elephant named Grand Tusk and an Ape named Nimble were friends.\n\nGrand Tusk observed, \"Behold, how big and powerful I am!\"\n\nNimble cried in reply, \"Behold, how agile and entertaining I am!\"\n\nEach was eager to know which was really superior to the other, and which\nquality was the most esteemed by the wise.\n\nSo they went to Dark Sage, an owl that lived in an old tower, to have\ntheir claims discussed and settled.\n\nDark Sage said, \"You must do as I bid, that I may form an opinion.\"\n\n\"Agreed!\" cried both.\n\n\"Then,\" said Dark Sage, \"cross yonder river, and bring me the mangoes on\nthe great tree beyond.\"\n\nOff went Grand Tusk and Nimble, but when they came to the stream, which\nwas flowing full, Nimble held back; but Grand Tusk took him up on his\nback, and swam across in a very short time. Then they came to the\nmango-tree, but it was very lofty and thick. Grand Tusk could neither\ntouch the fruit with his trunk, nor could he break the tree down to\ngather the fruit. Up sprang Nimble, and in a trice let drop a whole\nbasketful of rich ripe mangoes. Grand Tusk gathered the fruit up into\nhis capacious mouth, and the two friends crossed the stream as before.\n\n\"Now,\" said Dark Sage, \"which of you is the better? Grand Tusk crossed\nthe stream, and Nimble gathered the fruit.\" _Each thing in its place is\nbest._\n\n\n\n\nTHE CROW AND THE DAWN\n\n\nA Crow that lived on a tree by a great city in the East thought that the\nday dawned because of his cawing. One day he said to himself, \"How\nimportant I am! But for my care, I confess, the world would get into a\nmess.\"\n\nHe had a mind to see how the world would fare if for it he did not care.\nSo toward day-dawn he shut his eyes, and slept away without cawing. Then\nhe awoke, and found the sun shining as bright as ever on the great city.\n\nHe said, with great ill-humor, \"I see how it happened. Some knave of my\nkind must have cawed and helped the sun up!\"\n\n_Error breeds error._\n\n\n\n\nTHE LION AND THE GOAT\n\n\nA Lion was eating up one after another the animals of a certain country.\nOne day an old Goat said, \"We must put a stop to this. I have a plan by\nwhich he may be sent away from this part of the country.\"\n\n\"Pray act up to it at once,\" said the other animals.\n\nThe old Goat laid himself down in a cave on the roadside, with his\nflowing beard and long curved horns. The Lion on his way to the village\nsaw him, and stopped at the mouth of the cave.\n\n\"So you have come, after all,\" said the Goat.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" said the Lion.\n\n\"Why, I have long been lying in this cave. I have eaten up one hundred\nElephants, a hundred Tigers, a thousand Wolves, and ninety-nine Lions.\nOne more Lion has been wanting. I have waited long and patiently. Heaven\nhas, after all, been kind to me,\" said the Goat, and shook his horns and\nhis beard, and made a start as if he were about to spring upon the Lion.\n\nThe latter said to himself, \"This animal looks like a Goat, but it does\nnot talk like one. So it is very likely some wicked spirit in this\nshape. Prudence often serves us better than valor, so for the present I\nshall return to the wood,\" and he turned back.\n\nThe Goat rose up, and, advancing to the mouth of the cave, said, \"Will\nyou come back to-morrow?\"\n\n\"Never again,\" said the Lion.\n\n\"Do you think I shall be able to see you, at least, in the wood\nto-morrow?\"\n\n\"Neither in the wood, nor in this neighborhood any more,\" said the Lion,\nand running to the forest, soon left it with his kindred.\n\nThe animals in the country, not hearing him roar any more, gathered\nround the Goat, and said, \"_The wisdom of one doth save a host._\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUNLING\n\n\nIn the good old days a Clown in the East, on a visit to a city kinsman,\nwhile at dinner, pointed to a burning candle and asked what it was. The\nCity Man said, in jest, it was a sunling, or one of the children of the\nsun.\n\nThe Clown thought that it was something rare; so he waited for an\nopportunity, and hid it in a chest of drawers close by. Soon the chest\ncaught fire, then the curtains by its side, then the room, then the\nwhole house.\n\nAfter the flames had been put down the City Man and the Clown went into\nthe burned building to see what remained. The Clown turned over the\nembers of the chest of drawers. The City Man asked what he was seeking\nfor. The Clown said, \"It is in this chest that I hid the bright sunling;\nI wish to know if he has survived the flames.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the City Man, who now found out the cause of all the\nmischief, \"_never jest with fools!_\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE MUSHROOM AND THE GOOSE\n\n\nA Goose that was once cackling with great pride thought that a Mushroom\nwas gazing at it, and said, \"You contemptible thing, why do you stare at\nme like that? You can never hope to meet me on terms of equality, can\nyou?\"\n\n\"Certainly, madam,\" said the Mushroom \"and that very soon.\"\n\nThis enraged the Goose more, so she said, \"I would cut you up in pieces\nwith my bill but for the people who are close by, and who are so silly\nas to care for you,\" and went strutting away. Soon after the Goose and\nMushroom were served up in separate dishes, very near each other.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the Mushroom, \"you see we have met after all, and so\nclosely.\" _Those who have a common fate in the end had better be\nfriends._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FABLES OF PILPAY THE HINDU\n\n\nPilpay is thought to have been a Hindu who lived many centuries before\nJesus was born, and who wrote fables that have been translated into\nalmost every language. His fables are older than those of \u00c6sop.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE HEN\n\n\nA hungry Fox, spying a fine fat Hen, made up his mind to eat her. But as\nhe was about to spring upon her he heard a great noise, and looking up,\nsaw a drum hanging upon a tree. As the wind blew, the branches beat upon\nthe drum.\n\n\"Ah!\" said he. \"A thing that can make so much noise must certainly have\nmore flesh upon it than a miserable hen.\"\n\nSo, allowing the Hen to escape, he sprang upon the drum; but when he\ntore the parchment head open he found that there was nothing inside.\n\n\"Wretched being that I am,\" said he. \"I have missed a dainty meal for\nnothing at all.\"\n\n_By being too greedy we may miss everything that is worth having._\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE FISHES\n\n\nThree Fishes lived in a pond. The first was wise, the second had a\nlittle sense, and the third was foolish. A fisherman saw the fish, and\nwent home for his net in order that he might catch them.\n\n\"I must get out of this pond at once,\" said the Wise Fish. And he threw\nhimself into a little channel that led to a river. The others did not\ntrouble at all.\n\nPresently the Fisherman returned with his net, and stopped up the\nchannel leading to the river. The Second Fish wished he had followed the\nexample of the Wise Fish; but he soon thought of a plan to escape. He\nfloated upside down on the surface of the water, and the fisherman,\nthinking he was dead, did not trouble about him any more.\n\nBut the Foolish Fish was caught, and taken home to be eaten.\n\n_We should all endeavor to be wise._\n\n\n\n\nTHE FALCON AND THE HEN\n\n\n\"How ungrateful you must be!\" said a Falcon to a Hen. \"You are fed with\nthe best of food, you have a snug bed provided for you at night, you are\nprotected from foxes, and yet, when the men who do all this for you want\nto take hold of you, you run away and do not return their caresses. Now,\nI do not receive anything like so many benefits, and yet I allow the men\nto hold me, and I serve them when they go hunting in the field.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the Hen. \"What you say is true. But, remember, you never see\na hawk roasting in front of the fire, whereas you see hundreds of good\nfat hens treated in that way.\"\n\n_Circumstances alter cases._\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING WHO GREW KIND\n\n\nA cruel King was riding out one day, when he saw a fox attack a hen. But\njust then a dog ran after the fox and bit his leg. The fox, however,\nlame as he was, managed to escape into his hole, and the dog ran off. A\nman who saw him threw a stone at the dog, and cracked his head; but at\nthis moment a horse passing by ran against the man and trod on his foot.\nA minute later the horse's foot stepped upon a stone, and his ankle was\nbroken.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the King. \"This will be a lesson to me. I see that\nmisfortunes always overtake those who ill-use others.\"\n\nAnd from that time the King became a kind and wise ruler of his people.\n\n_Punishment sooner or later overtakes those who wrong others._\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: MODERN FABLES]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HORSES' COUNCIL\n\nADAPTED FROM JOHN GAY\n\n\nOnce upon a time, a restless, dissatisfied horse persuaded all the other\nhorses on the farm that they were oppressed by the man who owned them,\nand that they should rebel against him.\n\nSo a meeting was called to which all the horses came, to argue the\nmatter and see what should be done. One wanted one thing, one another,\nand at the last a young colt, who had not yet been trained sprang to the\nfront with tossing mane, and proud, arched neck, and eyes of fire, and\nthus addressed the listening throng of horses:\n\n\"What slaves we are! How low has fallen our race! Because our fathers\nlived in their service, must we too toil? Shall we submit ourselves to\nman, and spend our youth in servile tasks; with straining sinews drag\nthe ploughshare through the heavy soil, or draw the carrier's heavy load\nin winter cold or beneath the sun of summer? See how strong we are, how\nweak man is! Shall we subdue our strength, and champ a bit, and serve\nhis pride? Not so. Away with bit and bridle, rein and spur! We shall be\nfree as air!\"\n\nHe ceased, and with a step of conscious pride regained his place among\nthe crowd, from which came snickers of applause and neighs of praise.\n\nThen from behind the crowd, with slow and stately movements, came an\naged steed. He faced the turbulent crew, and with firm accents that\ncompelled their silence, he began to speak:\n\n\"When I was young as you,\" he said, \"I too cried out for freedom from\nthe daily toil that was my task. I soon had better thoughts. Man toils\nfor us. For us he braves the summer heat, to store our food. If we lend\nhim our strength to plough the land, he sows and reaps the grain, that\nwe may share it, as we share the toil. _Through all the world's history\nit has been decreed each one must in some way aid the other's need._\"\n\nHe ceased, and left the place, and by his words the council quietly\ndispersed.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OAK AND THE REED\n\nADAPTED FROM THE FRENCH OF LA FONTAINE\n\n\nOne day the Oak said to the Reed: \"Nature has been indeed unkind to you.\nShe has made you so weak that even the tiniest bird that flies bends you\nto earth beneath her little weight. The gentlest breeze that scarcely\nmoves the surface of the lake has power to bend your head.\n\n\"My head, which rises like a mountain, is not content to stop the\nblazing rays of sunshine, but braves even the tempest; the wind that to\nyou seems to be a hurricane, to me is but a gentle sigh of wind at\neventide.\n\n\"If you had grown beneath the shelter of my leafy crown, with which I\ncover all the ground around, I would have saved you from the storms\nwhich make you suffer. Alas, you are most often found along the marshy\nborders of the kingdom of the winds. Nature, it seems to me, has been to\nyou unjust.\"\n\n\"Your pity,\" said the Reed, \"comes from good nature, but have no care\nfor me. The winds for me hold far less danger than they hold for you. I\nbend but do not break. You have till now resisted all their powerful\nblows and never bent your back. But wait the end.\"\n\nJust as the gentle little Reed ended these words, a great north wind\nrushed down from the horizon and flung itself on them with fury. The\nReed bent low before it, but the tree defied the anger of the blast and\nheld its head upright. But the strong wind drew back, doubled its force,\nand with a furious rush tore up the oak tree by its mighty roots.\n\nThe blast passed on and in the quiet that it left behind, the Reed\nraised up her head, and looking sadly at the giant tree whose stately\nhead lay in the waters of the stream, she sadly said:\n\n\"_It is often well to bend before the storms that threaten us._\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVANTAGE OF KNOWLEDGE\n\nADAPTED FROM THE FRENCH OF LA FONTAINE\n\n\nTwo citizens lived beside each other in a town in France. The one was\nrich and had a fine house, and a garden, horses, and carriages, and\nservants to wait on him. But he was stupid, for when he was a boy at\nschool he learned nothing. The other man was poor in gold and silver,\nbut he was rich in knowledge, and full of wisdom, and he knew all the\nbeauty and the glory of the world.\n\nThese two held constant arguments. The rich man said that nothing in the\nworld should be held in honor but riches, and that the wise and learned\nshould bow to him because of all his wealth.\n\n\"My friend,\" he often said, \"what use is it to read so many books? They\ndo not bring you money! You have a small house, you wear the same coat\nin the winter that you do in summer.\"\n\nThe wise man could not always answer back, he had too much to say, and\noften kept silence.\n\nBut a war broke out. All the town, in which the two men lived, was\nbroken down, and both men had to leave it to seek their fortune in\nanother place. The rich man, who had lost his money, was now poor indeed,\nfor he had nothing, and wandered through the world getting nothing but\nscorn for his ignorance. But the wise man was welcomed everywhere, and\nreceived with honor because of all the wisdom and the knowledge that he\nbrought with him.\n\n_Knowledge is power._\n\n\n\n\nTHE TORRENT AND THE RIVER\n\nADAPTED FROM THE FRENCH OF LA FONTAINE\n\n\nWith great noise and much tumult a torrent fell down the mountain side.\nAll fled before it; horror followed it; it made the country round it\ntremble.\n\nOnly one traveler, who was flying from robbers that were following\nafter him, dared to cross the stream, and put it as a barrier between\nhim and the men who were pursuing him. This gave him confidence although\nthe robbers still followed. So when he reached the edge of a broad\nriver, that seemed to him to be an image of sleep, it looked so soft and\npeaceable and quiet, he rode his horse into the water to cross it. It\nhad no high banks, but a little beach sloped from the meadow down to\nmeet the water, which looked so peaceful that it seemed as if a little\nchild might cross it, to gather flowers on the other side, and so the\ntraveler thought it held no danger for him.\n\nBut the quiet river was very deep, and though it made no noise, its\ncurrent ran so strongly that it lifted both the horse and rider on its\nwaves and carried them away, and drowned them.\n\n_Quiet people are stronger than the noisy._\n\n\n\n\nTHE TOMTIT AND THE BEAR\n\nBY THE BROTHERS GRIMM\n\n\nOne summer day, as a Wolf and a Bear were walking together in a wood,\nthey heard a bird singing most sweetly. \"Brother,\" said the Bear, \"what\ncan that bird be that is singing so sweetly?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the Wolf, \"that is the king of the birds, we must take care\nto show him all respect.\" (Now I should tell you that this bird was\nafter all no other than the Tomtit.)\n\n\"If that is the case,\" said the Bear, \"I should like to see the royal\npalace; so pray come along and show me it.\"\n\n\"Gently, my friend,\" said the Wolf, \"we cannot see it just yet, we must\nwait till the queen comes home.\"\n\nSoon afterward the queen came with food in her beak, and she and the\nking began to feed their young ones.\n\n\"Now for it!\" said the Bear; and was about to follow them.\n\n\"Stop a little, Master Bruin,\" said the Wolf, \"we must wait now till the\nking and queen are gone again.\" So they marked the hole where they had\nseen the nest, and went away. But the Bear, being very eager to see the\npalace, soon came back again, and, peeping into the nest, saw five or\nsix young birds lying at the bottom of it.\n\n\"What nonsense!\" said Bruin, \"this is not a royal palace: I never saw\nsuch a filthy place in my life; and you are no royal children, you\nlittle base-born brats!\"\n\nAs soon as the young tomtits heard this they were very angry, and\nscreamed out: \"We are not base-born, you stupid bear! Our father and\nmother are honest, good sort of people; and, depend upon it, you shall\nsuffer for your rudeness!\"\n\nAt this the Wolf and the Bear grew frightened, and ran away to their\ndens. But the young tomtits kept crying and screaming; and when their\nfather and mother came home and offered them food, they all said: \"We\nwill not touch a bit; no, not though we should die of hunger, till that\nrascal Bruin has been punished for calling us base-born brats.\"\n\n\"Make yourselves easy, my darlings,\" said the old king, \"you may be sure\nhe shall get what he deserves.\"\n\nSo he went out to the Bear's den, and cried out with a loud voice,\n\"Bruin, the bear! thou hast been very rude to our lawful children. We\nshall therefore make war against thee and thine, and shall never cease\nuntil thou hast been punished as thou so richly deservest.\"\n\nNow when the bear heard this, he called together the ox, the ass, the\nstag, the fox, and all the beasts of the earth. And the Tomtit also\ncalled on his side all the birds of the air, both great and small, and a\nvery large army of wasps, gnats, bees, and flies, and indeed many other\nkinds of insects.\n\nAs the time came near when the war was to begin, the Tomtit sent out\nspies to see who was the leader of the enemy's forces. So the gnat, who\nwas by far the best spy of them all, flew backward and forward in the\nwood where the enemy's troops were, and at last hid himself under a leaf\non a tree close by.\n\nThe Bear, who was standing so near the tree that the gnat could hear all\nhe said, called to the fox and said, \"Reynard, you are the cleverest of\nall the beasts; therefore you shall be our leader and go before us to\nbattle; but we must first agree upon some signal, by which we may know\nwhat you want us to do.\"\n\n\"Behold,\" said the fox, \"I have a fine long, bushy tail, which is very\nlike a plume of red feathers, and gives me a very warlike air. Now\nremember, when you see me raise up my tail, you may be sure that the\nbattle is won, and you have then nothing to do but to rush down upon the\nenemy with all your force. On the other hand, if I drop my tail, the\nbattle is lost, and you must run away as fast as you can.\"\n\nNow when the gnat had heard all this, she flew back to the Tomtit and\ntold him everything that had passed.\n\nAt length the day came when the battle was to be fought. As soon as it\nwas light, the army of beasts came rushing forward with such a fearful\nsound that the earth shook. King Tomtit, with his troops, came flying\nalong also in warlike array, flapping and fluttering, and beating the\nair, so that it was quite frightful to hear; and both armies set\nthemselves in order of battle upon the field.\n\nNow the Tomtit gave orders to a troop of wasps that at the first onset\nthey should march straight toward Captain Reynard and fixing themselves\nabout his tail, should sting him with all their might. The wasps did as\nthey were told; and when Reynard felt the first sting, he started aside\nand shook one of his legs, but still held up his tail with wonderful\nbravery. At the second sting he was forced to drop his tail for a\nmoment; but when the third wasp had fixed itself, he could bear it no\nlonger, and clapped his tail between his legs, and ran away as fast as\nhe could.\n\nAs soon as the beasts saw this, they thought of course all was lost,\nand raced across the country away to their holes.\n\nThen the king and queen of the birds flew back in joy to their children,\nand said: \"Now, children, eat, drink, and be merry, for we have won the\nbattle!\"\n\nBut the young birds said: \"No; not till Bruin has humbly begged our\npardon for calling us base-born.\"\n\nSo the king flew back to the bear's den, and cried out:\n\n\"Thou villain bear! come forthwith to my nest, and humbly ask my\nchildren to forgive the insult thou hast offered them. If thou wilt not\ndo this, every bone in thy body shall be broken.\"\n\nThen the bear was forced to crawl out of his den very sulkily, and do\nwhat the king bade him; and after that the young birds sat down\ntogether, and ate, and drank, and made merry till midnight.\n\n\n\n\nWHY JIMMY SKUNK WEARS STRIPES[K]\n\nBY THORNTON W. BURGESS\n\n\nJimmy Skunk, as everybody knows, wears a striped suit, a suit of black\nand white. There was a time, long, long ago, when all the Skunk family\nwore black. Very handsome their coats were, too, a beautiful glossy\nblack. They were very, very proud of them, and took the greatest care of\nthem, brushing them carefully ever so many times a day.\n\nThere was a Jimmy Skunk then, just as there is now, and he was head of\nall the Skunk family. Now, this Jimmy Skunk was very proud, and thought\nhimself very much of a gentleman. He was very independent, and cared for\nno one. Like a great many other independent people, he did not always\nconsider the rights of others. Indeed, it was hinted in the wood and on\nthe Green Meadows that not all of Jimmy Skunk's doings would bear the\nlight of day. It was openly said that he was altogether too fond of\nprowling about at night, but no one could prove that he was responsible\nfor mischief done in the night, for no one saw him. You see his coat was\nso black that in the darkness of the night it was not visible at all.\n\nNow, about this time of which I am telling you, Mrs. Ruffed Grouse made\na nest at the foot of the Great Pine, and in it she laid fifteen\nbeautiful buff eggs. Mrs. Grouse was very happy, very happy indeed, and\nall the little meadow folks who knew of her happiness were happy, too,\nfor they all loved shy, demure, little Mrs. Grouse. Every morning when\nPeter Rabbit trotted down the Lone Little Path through the wood past the\nGreat Pine he would stop for a few minutes to chat with Mrs. Grouse.\nHappy Jack Squirrel would bring her the news every afternoon. The Merry\nLittle Breezes of Old Mother West Wind would run up a dozen times a day\nto see how she was getting along.\n\nOne morning Peter Rabbit, coming down the Lone Little Path for his usual\nmorning call, found a terrible state of affairs. Poor little Mrs. Grouse\nwas heartbroken. All about the foot of the Great Pine lay the empty\nshells of their beautiful eggs. They had been broken and scattered this\nway and that.\n\n\"How did it happen?\" asked Peter Rabbit.\n\n\"I don't know,\" sobbed poor little Mrs. Grouse. \"In the night when I was\nfast asleep something pounced upon me. I managed to get away and fly up\nin the top of the Great Pine. In the morning I found all my eggs broken,\njust as you see them here.\"\n\nPeter Rabbit looked the ground over very carefully. He hunted around\nbehind the Great Pine, he looked under the bushes, he studied the ground\nwith a very wise air. Then he hopped off down the Lone Little Path to\nthe Green Meadows. He stopped at the house of Johnny Chuck.\n\n\"What makes your eyes so big and round?\" asked Johnny Chuck. Peter\nRabbit came very close so as to whisper in Johnny Chuck's ear, and told\nhim all that he had seen. Together they went to Jimmy Skunk's house.\nJimmy Skunk was in bed. He was very sleepy and very cross when he came\nto the door. Peter Rabbit told him what he had seen.\n\n\"Too bad! Too bad!\" said Jimmy Skunk, and yawned sleepily.\n\n\"Won't you join us in trying to find out who did it?\" asked Johnny\nChuck.\n\nJimmy Skunk said he would be delighted to come, but that he had some\nother business that morning and he would join them in the afternoon.\nPeter Rabbit and Johnny Chuck went on. Pretty soon they met the Merry\nLittle Breezes and told them the dreadful story.\n\n\"What shall we do?\" asked Johnny Chuck.\n\n\"We'll hurry over, and tell Old Dame Nature,\" cried the Merry Little\nBreezes, \"and ask her what to do.\"\n\nSo away flew the Merry Little Breezes to Old Dame Nature and told her\nall the dreadful story. Old Dame Nature listened very attentively. Then\nshe sent the Merry Little Breezes to all the little meadow folks to tell\neveryone to be at the Great Pine that afternoon. Now, whatever Old Dame\nNature commanded, all the little meadow folks were obliged to do. They\ndid not dare to disobey her.\n\nPromptly at 4 o'clock that afternoon all the little meadow folks were\ngathered around the foot of the Great Pine. Brokenhearted little Mrs.\nRuffed Grouse sat beside her empty nest, with all the broken shells\nabout her.\n\nReddy Fox, Peter Rabbit, Johnny Chuck, Billy Mink, Little Joe Otter,\nJerry Muskrat, Hooty the Owl, Bobby Coon, Sammy Jay, Blacky the Crow,\nGrandfather Frog, Mr. Toad, Spotty the Turtle, the Merry Little Breezes,\nall were there. Last of all came Jimmy Skunk. Very handsome he looked in\nhis shining black coat, and very sorry he appeared that such a dreadful\nthing should have happened. He told Mrs. Grouse how badly he felt, and\nhe loudly demanded that the culprit should be run down without delay and\nseverely punished.\n\nOld Dame Nature has the most smiling face in the world, but this time it\nwas very, very grave indeed. First she asked little Mrs. Grouse to tell\nher story all over again that all might hear. Then each in turn was\nasked to tell where he had been the night before. Johnny Chuck, Happy\nJack Squirrel, Striped Chipmunk, Sammy Jay, and Blacky the Crow had gone\nto bed when Mr. Sun went down behind the Purple Hills. Jerry Muskrat,\nBilly Mink, Little Joe Otter, Grandfather Frog, and Spotty the Turtle\nhad been down in Farmer Brown's corn-field. Hooty the Owl had been\nhunting in the lower end of the Green Meadows. Peter Rabbit had been\ndown in the Berry Patch. Mr. Toad had been under the big piece of bark\nwhich he called a house. Old Dame Nature called on Jimmy Skunk last of\nall. Jimmy protested that he had been very, very tired and had gone to\nbed very early indeed, and had slept the whole night through.\n\nThen Old Dame Nature asked Peter Rabbit what he had found among the\nshells that morning.\n\nPeter Rabbit hopped out and laid three long black hairs before Old Dame\nNature. \"These,\" said Peter Rabbit, \"are what I found among the egg\nshells.\"\n\nThen Old Dame Nature called Johnny Chuck. \"Tell us, Johnny Chuck,\" said\nshe, \"what you saw when you called at Jimmy Skunk's house this morning.\"\n\n\"I saw Jimmy Skunk,\" said Johnny Chuck, \"and Jimmy seemed very, very\nsleepy. It seemed to me that his whiskers were yellow.\"\n\n\"That will do,\" said Old Dame Nature, and she called Old Mother West\nWind.\n\n\"What time did you come down on the Green Meadows this morning?\" asked\nOld Dame Nature.\n\n\"Just at the break of day,\" said Old Mother West Wind, \"as Mr. Sun was\ncoming up from behind the Purple Hills.\"\n\n\"And whom did you see so early in the morning?\" asked old Dame Nature.\n\n\"I saw Bobby Coon going home from old Farmer Brown's corn-field,\" said\nOld Mother West Wind. \"I saw Hooty the Owl coming back from the lower\nend of the Green Meadows. I saw Peter Rabbit down in the berry patch.\nLast of all, I saw something like a black shadow coming down the Lone\nLittle Path toward the house of Jimmy Skunk.\"\n\nEveryone was looking very hard at Jimmy Skunk. Jimmy began to look very\nunhappy and very uneasy.\n\n\"Who wears a black coat?\" asked Dame Nature.\n\n\"Jimmy Skunk!\" shouted all the little meadow folks.\n\n\"What might make whiskers yellow?\" asked Old Dame Nature.\n\nNo one seemed to know at first. Then Peter Rabbit spoke up. \"It might be\nthe yolk of an egg,\" said Peter Rabbit.\n\n\"Who are likely to be sleepy on a bright sunny morning?\" asked Old Dame\nNature.\n\n\"People who have been out all night,\" said Johnny Chuck, who himself\nalways goes to bed with the sun.\n\n\"Jimmy Skunk,\" said Old Dame Nature, and her voice was very stern, very\nstern indeed, and her face was very grave. \"Jimmy Skunk, I accuse you of\nhaving broken and eaten the eggs of Mrs. Grouse. What have you to say\nfor yourself?\"\n\nJimmy Skunk hung his head. He hadn't a word to say. He just wanted to\nsneak away by himself.\n\n\"Jimmy Skunk,\" said Old Dame Nature, \"because your handsome black coat,\nof which you are so proud, has made it possible for you to move about in\nthe night without being seen, and because we can no longer trust you\nupon your honor, henceforth you and your descendants shall wear a\nstriped coat which is the sign that you cannot be trusted. Your coat\nhereafter shall be black and white, that will always be visible.\"\n\nAnd this is why to this day Jimmy Skunk wears a striped suit of black\nand white.\n\n [K] From \"Old Mother West Wind,\" by Thornton W. Burgess; used\n by permission of the author and publishers, Little, Brown & Co.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: HOW CATS CAME TO PURR]\n\nBY JOHN BENNETT\n\n\nA Boy having a Pet Cat which he Wished to Feed, Said to Her, \"Come, Cat,\nDrink this Dish of Cream; it will Keep your Fur as Soft as Silk, and\nMake you Purr like a Coffee-Mill.\"\n\nHe had no sooner said this than the Cat, with a Great Glare of her Green\nEyes, bristled her Tail like a Gun-Swab and went over the Back Fence,\nhead first--pop!--as Mad as a Wet Hen.\n\nAnd this is how she came to do so:\n\nThe story is an old one--very, very old. It may be Persian; it may be\nnot: that is of very little moment. It is so old that if all the nine\nlives of all the cats that have ever lived in the world were set up\ntogether in a line, the other end of it would just reach back to the\ntime when this occurred.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE CAT THAT GROUND THE COFFEE IN THE KING'S KITCHEN\"]\n\nAnd this is the story:\n\nMany, many years ago, in a country which was quite as far from anywhere\nelse as the entire distance thither and back, there was a huge cat that\nground the coffee in the King's kitchen, and otherwise assisted with the\nmeals.\n\nThis cat was, in truth, the actual and very father of all subsequent\ncats, and his name was Sooty Will, for his hair was as black as a night\nin a coal-hole. He was ninety years old, and his mustaches were like\nwhisk-brooms. But the most singular thing about him was that in all his\nlife he had never once purred nor humped up his back, although his\nmaster often stroked him. The fact was that he never had learned to\npurr, nor had any reason, so far as he knew, for humping up his back.\nAnd being the father of all the cats, there was no one to tell him how.\nIt remained for him to acquire a reason, and from his example to devise\na habit which cats have followed from that time forth, and no doubt will\nforever follow.\n\nThe King of the country had long been at war with one of his neighbors,\nbut one morning he sent back a messenger to say that he had beaten his\nfoeman at last, and that he was coming home for an early breakfast as\nhungry as three bears. \"Have batter-cakes and coffee,\" he directed,\n\"hot, and plenty of 'em!\"\n\nAt that the turnspits capered and yelped with glee, for batter-cakes and\ncoffee are not cooked upon spits, and so they were free to sally forth\ninto the city streets and watch the King's homecoming in a grand parade.\n\nBut the cat sat down on his tail in the corner and looked cross. \"Scat!\"\nsaid he, with an angry caterwaul. \"It is not fair that you should go and\nthat I should not.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, it is,\" said the gleeful turnspits; \"turn and turn about is\nfair play: you saw the rat that was killed in the parlor.\"\n\n\"Turn about fair play, indeed!\" cried the cat. \"Then all of you get to\nyour spits; I am sure that is turn about!\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the turnspits, wagging their tails and laughing. \"That is\nover and over again, which is not fair play. 'Tis the coffee-mill that\nis turn and turn about. So turn about to your mill, Sooty Will; we are\noff to see the King!\"\n\n [Illustration: \"TURNING HAND-SPRINGS, HEAD-SPRINGS, AND HEEL-SPRINGS AS\n THEY WENT\"]\n\nWith that they pranced out into the court-yard, turning hand-springs,\nhead-springs, and heel-springs as they went, and, after giving three\nhearty and vociferous cheers in a grand chorus at the bottom of the\ngarden, went capering away for their holiday.\n\nThe cat spat at their vanishing heels, sat down on his tail in the\nchimney-corner, and was very glum indeed.\n\nJust then the cook looked in from the pantry. \"Hullo!\" he said gruffly.\n\"Come, hurry up the coffee!\" That was the way he always gave his orders.\n\n [Illustration: \"'HULLO!' HE SAID GRUFFLY. 'COME, HURRY UP THE\n COFFEE!'\"]\n\nThe black cat's whiskers bristled. He turned to the mill with a fierce\nfrown, his long tail going to and fro like that of a tiger in its lair;\nfor Sooty Will had a temper like hot gunpowder, that was apt to go off\n_sizz_, _whizz_, _bang_! and no one to save the pieces. Yet, at least\nwhile the cook was by, he turned the mill furiously, as if with a right\ngood-will.\n\nMeantime, out in the city a glorious day came on. The sun went buzzing\nup the pink-and-yellow sky with a sound like that of a walking-doll's\nworks, or of a big Dutch clock behind a door; banners waved from the\ncastled heights, and bugles sang from every tower; the city gates rang\nwith the cheers of the enthusiastic crowd. Up from cellars, down from\nlofts, off work-benches, and out at the doors of their masters' shops,\ndodging the thwacks of their masters' straps, \"pop-popping\" like corks\nfrom the necks of so many bottles, came apprentices, shop-boys, knaves\nand scullions, crying: \"God save the King! Hurrah! Hurrah! Masters and\nwork may go to Rome; our tasks shall wait on our own sweet wills; 't is\nholiday when the King comes home. God save the King! Hurrah!\"\n\nThen came the procession. There were first three regiments of\ntrumpeters, all blowing different tunes; then fifteen regiments of\nmounted infantry on coal-black horses, forty squadrons of\ngreen-and-blue dragoons, and a thousand drummers and fifers\nin scarlet and blue and gold, making a thundering din with their\nrootle-te-tootle-te-tootle-te-rootle; and pretty well up to the front in\nthe ranks was the King himself, bowing and smiling to the populace, with\nhis hand on his breast; and after him the army, all in shining armor,\njust enough pounded to be picturesque, miles on miles of splendid men,\nall bearing the trophies of glorious war, and armed with lances and bows\nand arrows, falchions, morgensterns, martels-de-fer, and other choice\nimplements of justifiable homicide, and the reverse, such as hautboys\nand sackbuts and accordions and dudelsacks and Scotch bagpipes--a\nglorious sight!\n\n [Illustration: A PART OF THE GRAND PROCESSION]\n\nAnd, as has been said before, the city gates rang with the cheers of the\ncrowd, crimson banners waved over the city's pinnacled summits, and\nbugles blew, trumpets brayed, and drums beat until it seemed that wild\nuproar and rich display had reached its high millennium.\n\nThe black cat turned the coffee-mill. \"My oh! my oh!\" he said. \"It\ncertainly is not fair that those bench-legged turnspits with feet like\nso much leather should see the King marching home in his glory, while I,\nwho go shod, as it were, in velvet, should hear only the sound through\nthe scullery windows. It is not fair. It is no doubt true that \"The cat\nmay mew, and the dog shall have his day,\" but I have as much right to my\nday as he; and has it not been said from immemorial time that 'A cat may\nlook at a king'? Indeed it has, quite as much as that the dog may have\nhis day. I will not stand it; it is not fair. A cat may look at a king;\nand if any cat may look at a king, why, I am the cat who may. There are\nno other cats in the world; I am the only one. Poh! the cook may shout\ntill his breath gives out, he cannot frighten me; for once I am going to\nhave my fling!\"\n\nSo he forthwith swallowed the coffee-mill, box, handle, drawer-knobs,\ncoffee-well, and all, and was off to see the King.\n\nSo far, so good. But, ah! the sad and undeniable truth, that brightest\njoys too soon must end! Triumphs cannot last forever, even in a land of\nlegends. There comes a reckoning.\n\nWhen the procession was past and gone, as all processions pass and go,\nvanishing down the shores of forgetfulness; when barons, marquises,\ndukes, and dons were gone, with their pennants and banners; when the\nlast lancers had gone prancing past and were lost to sight down the\ncircuitous avenue, Sooty Will, with drooping tail, stood by the palace\ngate, dejected. He was sour and silent and glum. Indeed, who would not\nbe, with a coffee-mill on his conscience? To own up to the entire truth,\nthe cat was feeling decidedly unwell; when suddenly the cook popped\nhis head in at the scullery entry, crying, \"How now, how now, you\nvagabonds! The war is done, but the breakfast is not. Hurry up, scurry\nup, scamper and trot! The cakes are all cooked and are piping hot! Then\nwhy is the coffee so slow?\" The King was in the dining-hall, in\ndressing-gown and slippers, irately calling for his breakfast!\n\n [Illustration: \"HE FORTHWITH SWALLOWED THE COFFEE-MILL\"]\n\nThe shamefaced, guilty cat ran hastily down the scullery stairs and hid\nunder the refrigerator, with such a deep inward sensation of remorse\nthat he dared not look the kind cook in the face. It now really seemed\nto him as if everything had gone wrong with the world, especially his\nown insides. This any one will readily believe who has ever swallowed a\ncoffee-mill. He began to weep copiously.\n\n [Illustration: \"AND WAS OFF TO SEE THE KING\"]\n\nThe cook came into the kitchen. \"Where is the coffee?\" he said; then,\ncatching sight of the secluded cat, he stooped, crying, \"Where is the\ncoffee?\"\n\nThe cat sobbed audibly. \"Some one must have come into the kitchen while\nI ran out to look at the King!\" he gasped, for there seemed to him no\nway out of the scrape but by telling a plausible untruth. \"Some one must\nhave come into the kitchen and stolen it!\" And with that, choking upon\nthe handle of the mill, which projected into his throat, he burst into\ninarticulate sobs.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE CAT WAS FEELING DECIDEDLY UNWELL\"]\n\nThe cook, who was, in truth, a very kind-hearted man, sought to reassure\nthe poor cat. \"There; it is unfortunate, very; but do not weep; thieves\nthrive in kings' houses!\" he said, and, stooping, he began to stroke the\ndrooping cat's back to show that he held the weeping creature blameless.\n\nSooty Will's heart leaped into his throat.\n\n [Illustration: \"IT SEEMED AS IF EVERYTHING HAD GONE WRONG\"]\n\n\"Oh, oh!\" he half gasped, \"oh, oh! If he rubs his great hand down my\nback he will feel the corners of the coffee-mill through my ribs as sure\nas fate! Oh, oh! I am a gone cat!\" And with that, in an agony of\napprehension lest his guilt and his falsehood be thus presently\ndetected, he humped up his back as high in the air as he could, so that\nthe corners of the mill might not make bumps in his sides and that the\nmill might thus remain undiscovered.\n\n [Illustration: \"'WHERE IS THE COFFEE?' SAID THE COOK\"]\n\nBut, alas! he forgot that coffee-mills turn. As he humped up his back\nto cover his guilt, the coffee-mill inside rolled over, and, as it\nrolled, began to grind--_rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr-rr!_\n\n\"Oh, oh! you have swallowed the mill!\" cried the cook.\n\n [Illustration \"OUT STEPPED THE GENIUS THAT LIVED UNDER THE GREAT\n OVENS\"]\n\n\"No, no,\" cried the cat; \"I was only thinking aloud.\"\n\nAt that out stepped the Genius that Lived under the Great Ovens, and,\nwith his finger pointed at the cat, said in a frightful voice, husky\nwith wood-ashes: \"Miserable and pusillanimous beast! By telling a\nfalsehood to cover a wrong you have only made bad matters worse. For\nbetraying man's kindness to cover your shame, a curse shall be upon you\nand all your kind until the end of the world. Whenever men stroke you in\nkindness, remembrance of your guilt shall make you hump up your back\nwith shame, as you did to avoid being found out; and in order that the\nreason for this curse shall never be forgotten, whenever man is kind to\na cat the sound of the grinding of a coffee-mill inside shall\nperpetually remind him of your guilt and shame!\"\n\nWith that the Genius vanished in a cloud of smoke.\n\nAnd it was even as he said. From that day Sooty Will could never abide\nhaving his back stroked without humping it up to conceal the mill within\nhim; and never did he hump up his back but the coffee-mill began slowly\nto grind, _rr-rr-rr-rr!_ inside him; so that, even in the prime of life,\nbefore his declining days had come, being seized upon by a great remorse\nfor these things which might never be amended, he retired to a home for\naged and reputable cats, and there, so far as the records reveal, lived\nthe remainder of his days in charity and repentance.\n\nBut the curse has come down even to the present day, as the Genius that\nLived under the Great Ovens said, and still maintains, though cats have\nprobably forgotten the facts, and so, when stroked, hump up their backs\nand purr as if these actions were a matter of pride instead of being a\nblot upon their family record.\n\n [Illustration: \"HE RETIRED TO A HOME FOR AGED AND REPUTABLE CATS\"]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEDY CAT\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a man who had a Cat, and she was so awfully\nbig, and such a beast to eat, he couldn't keep her any longer. So she\nwas to go down to the river with a stone round her neck, but before she\nstarted she was to have a meal of meat. So the goody set before her a\nbowl of porridge and a little trough of fat. That the creature crammed\ninto her, and ran off and jumped through the window. Outside stood the\ngoodman by the barn-door threshing.\n\n\"Good day, goodman,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, pussy,\" said the goodman; \"have you had any food to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge and a trough of fat--and, now I think of it,\nI'll take you, too,\" and so she took the goodman and gobbled him up.\n\nWhen she had done that, she went into the byre, and there sat the goody\nmilking.\n\n\"Good day, goody,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, pussy,\" said the goody; \"are you here, and have you eaten up\nyour food yet?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've eaten a little to-day, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said pussy; \"it\nwas only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman--and,\nnow I think of it, I'll take you, too,\" and so she took the goody and\ngobbled her up.\n\n\"Good day, you cow at the manger,\" said the Cat to Daisy the cow.\n\n\"Good day, pussy,\" said the bell-cow; \"have you had any food to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"I've only\nhad a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the\ngoody--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too,\" and so she took the\ncow and gobbled her up.\n\nThen off she set into the home-field, and there stood a man picking up\nleaves.\n\n\"Good day, you leaf-picker in the field,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\" said the\nleaf-picker.\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the\ngoody, and Daisy the cow--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too.\"\nSo she took the leaf-picker and gobbled him up.\n\nThen she came to a heap of stones, and there stood a stoat and peeped\nout.\n\n\"Good day, Mr. Stoat of Stoneheap,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the\ngoody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker--and, now I think of it, I'll\ntake you, too.\" So she took the stoat and gobbled him up.\n\nWhen she had gone a bit farther, she came to a hazel-brake, and there\nsat a squirrel gathering nuts.\n\n\"Good day, Sir Squirrel of the Brake,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the\ngoody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat--and, now I think\nof it, I'll take you, too.\" So she took the squirrel and gobbled him up.\n\nWhen she had gone a little farther, she saw Reynard the fox, who was\nprowling about by the woodside.\n\n\"Good day, Reynard Slyboots,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too.\" So she took\nReynard and gobbled him up.\n\nWhen she had gone a little farther she met Long Ears, the hare.\n\n\"Good day, Mr. Hopper the hare,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too.\" So\nshe took the hare and gobbled him up.\n\nWhen she had gone a bit farther she met a wolf.\n\n\"Good day, you Greedy Graylegs,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare--and now I think of it, I may as\nwell take you, too.\" So she took and gobbled up Graylegs, too.\n\nSo she went on into the wood, and when she had gone far and farther than\nfar, o'er hill and dale, she met a bear-cub.\n\n\"Good day, you bare-breeched bear,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy,\" said the bear-cub; \"have you had anything to eat\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf--and, now I think of\nit, I may as well take you, too.\" And so she took the bear-cub and\ngobbled him up.\n\nWhen the Cat had gone a bit farther, she met a she-bear, who was tearing\naway at a stump till the splinters flew, so angry was she at having lost\nher cub.\n\n\"Good day, you Mrs. Bruin,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it\nwas only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman,\nand the goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat,\nand the squirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the\nbear-cub--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too,\" and so she took\nMrs. Bruin and gobbled her up, too.\n\nWhen the Cat got still farther on, she met Baron Bruin himself.\n\n\"Good day, you Baron Bruin,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy,\" said Bruin; \"have you had anything to eat\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the bear-cub, and\nthe she-bear--and, now I think of it, I'll take you, too,\" and so she\ntook Bruin and ate him up, too.\n\nSo the Cat went on and on, and farther than far, till she came to the\nabodes of men again, and there she met a bridal train on the road.\n\n\"Good day, you bridal train on the king's highway,\" said she.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the bear-cub, and\nthe she-bear, and the he-bear--and, now I think of it, I'll take you,\ntoo,\" and so she rushed at them, and gobbled up both the bride and\nbridegroom, and the whole train, with the cook and the fiddler, and the\nhorses and all.\n\nWhen she had gone still farther, she came to a church, and there she met\na funeral.\n\n\"Good day, you funeral train,\" said she.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the bear-cub, and\nthe she-bear, and the he-bear, and the bride and bridegroom, and the\nwhole train--and, now, I don't mind if I take you, too,\" and so she fell\non the funeral train and gobbled up both the body and the bearers.\n\nNow when the Cat had got the body in her, she was taken up to the sky,\nand when she had gone a long, long way, she met the moon.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Moon,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the bear-cub, and\nthe she-bear, and the he-bear, and the bride and bridegroom, and the\nwhole train, and the funeral train--and, now I think of it, I don't mind\nif I take you, too,\" and so she seized hold of the moon, and gobbled her\nup, both new and full.\n\n [Illustration: \"'THAT WE'LL FIGHT ABOUT,' SAID THE BILLY GOAT\"]\n\nSo the Cat went a long way still, and then she met the sun.\n\n\"Good day, you sun in heaven.\"\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy,\" said the sun; \"have you had anything to eat\nto-day?\"\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,\" said the Cat; \"it was\nonly a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and\nthe goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the\nsquirrel, and the fox, and the hare, and the wolf, and the bear-cub, and\nthe she-bear, and the he-bear, and the bride and bridegroom, and the\nwhole train, and the funeral train, and the moon--and, now I think of\nit, I don't mind if I take you, too,\" and so she rushed at the sun in\nheaven and gobbled him up.\n\nSo the Cat went far and farther than far, till she came to a bridge, and\non it she met a big billy-goat.\n\n\"Good day, you Billy-goat on Broad-bridge,\" said the Cat.\n\n\"Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?\" said the\nbilly-goat.\n\n\"Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting; I've only had a bowl of\nporridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the goody in the\nbyre, and Daisy the cow at the manger, and the leaf-picker in the\nhome-field, and Mr. Stoat of Stoneheap, and Sir Squirrel of the Brake,\nand Reynard Slyboots, and Mr. Hopper the hare, and Greedy Graylegs the\nwolf, and Bare-breech the bear-cub, and Mrs. Bruin, and Baron Bruin, and\na bridal train on the king's highway, and a funeral at the church, and\nLady Moon in the sky, and Lord Sun in heaven--and, now I think of it,\nI'll take you, too.\"\n\n\"That we'll fight about,\" said the billy-goat, and butted at the Cat\ntill she fell right over the bridge into the river, and there she burst.\n\nSo they all crept out one after the other, and went about their\nbusiness, and were just as good as ever, all that the Cat had gobbled\nup. The goodman of the house, and the goody in the byre, and Daisy the\ncow at the manger, and the leaf-picker in the home-field, and Mr. Stoat\nof Stoneheap, and Sir Squirrel of the Brake, and Reynard Slyboots, and\nMr. Hopper the hare, and Greedy Graylegs the wolf, and Bare-breech the\nbear-cub, and Mrs. Bruin, and Baron Bruin, and the bridal train on the\nhighway, and the funeral train at the church, and Lady Moon in the sky,\nand Lord Sun in heaven.\n\n\n\n\nGUDBRAND ON THE HILLSIDE\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a man whose name was Gudbrand. He had a farm\nwhich lay far away up on the side of a hill, and therefore they called\nhim Gudbrand on the hillside.\n\nHe and his wife lived so happily together, and agreed so well, that\nwhatever the man did the wife thought it so well done that no one could\ndo it better. No matter what he did, she thought it was always the right\nthing.\n\nThey lived on their own farm, and had a hundred dollars at the bottom of\ntheir chest and two cows in their cow-shed. One day the woman said to\nGudbrand:\n\n\"I think we ought to go to town with one of the cows and sell it, so\nthat we may have some ready money by us. We are pretty well off, and\nought to have a few shillings in our pocket like other people. The\nhundred dollars in the chest we mustn't touch, but I can't see what we\nwant with more than one cow, and it will be much better for us, as I\nshall have only one to look after instead of the two I have now to mind\nand feed.\"\n\nYes, Gudbrand thought, that was well and sensibly spoken. He took the\ncow at once and went to town to sell it; but when he got there no one\nwould buy the cow.\n\n\"Ah, well!\" thought Gudbrand, \"I may as well take the cow home again. I\nknow I have both stall and food for it, and the way home is no longer\nthan it was here.\" So he strolled homeward again with the cow.\n\nWhen he had got a bit on the way he met a man who had a horse to sell,\nand Gudbrand thought it was better to have a horse than a cow, and so he\nchanged the cow for the horse.\n\nWhen he had gone a bit farther he met a man who was driving a fat pig\nbefore him, and then he thought it would be better to have a fat pig\nthan a horse, and so he changed with the man.\n\nHe now went a bit farther, and then he met a man with a goat, and so he\nthought it was surely better to have a goat than a pig, and changed with\nthe man who had the goat.\n\nThen he went a long way, till he met a man who had a sheep. He changed\nwith him, for he thought it was always better to have a sheep than a\ngoat.\n\nWhen he had got a bit farther he met a man with a goose, and so he\nchanged the sheep for the goose. And when he had gone a long, long way\nhe met a man with a cock. He changed the goose with him, for he thought\nthis wise: \"It is surely better to have a cock than a goose.\"\n\nHe walked on till late in the day, when he began to feel hungry. So he\nsold the cock for sixpence and bought some food for himself. \"For it is\nalways better to keep body and soul together than to have a cock,\"\nthought Gudbrand.\n\nHe then set off again homeward till he came to his neighbor's farm, and\nthere he went in.\n\n\"How did you get on in town?\" asked the people.\n\n\"Oh, only so-so,\" said the man. \"I can't boast of my luck, nor can I\ngrumble at it either.\" And then he told them how it had gone with him\nfrom first to last.\n\n\"Well, you'll have a fine reception when you get home to your wife,\"\nsaid the man. \"Heaven help you! I should not like to be in your place.\"\n\n\"I think I might have fared much worse,\" said Gudbrand; \"but whether I\nhave fared well or ill, I have such a kind wife that she never says\nanything, no matter what I do.\"\n\n\"Aye, so you say; but you won't get me to believe it,\" said the\nneighbor.\n\n\"Shall we have a wager on it?\" said Gudbrand. \"I have a hundred dollars\nin my chest at home. Will you lay the same?\"\n\nSo they made the wager and Gudbrand remained there till the evening,\nwhen it began to get dark, and then they went together to the farm.\n\nThe neighbor was to remain outside the door and listen while Gudbrand\nwent in to his wife.\n\n\"Good evening!\" said Gudbrand when he came in.\n\n\"Good evening!\" said the wife. \"Heaven be praised you are back again.\"\n\n\"Yes, here I am!\" said the man. And then the wife asked him how he had\ngot on in town.\n\n\"Oh, so-so,\" answered Gudbrand. \"Not much to brag of. When I came to\ntown no one would buy the cow, so I changed it for a horse.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm so glad of that,\" said the woman. \"We are pretty well off and\nwe ought to drive to church like other people, and when we can afford to\nkeep a horse I don't see why we should not have one. Run out, children,\nand put the horse in the stable.\"\n\n\"Well, I haven't got the horse, after all,\" said Gudbrand; \"for when I\nhad got a bit on the way I changed it for a pig.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" cried the woman, \"that's the very thing I should have done\nmyself. I'm so glad of that, for now we can have some bacon in the house\nand something to offer people when they come to see us. What do we want\nwith a horse? People would only say we had become so grand that we could\nno longer walk to church. Run out, children, and let the pig in.\"\n\n\"But I haven't got the pig either,\" said Gudbrand, \"for when I had got a\nbit farther on the road I changed it into a milch goat.\"\n\n\"Dear! dear! how well you manage everything!\" cried the wife. \"When I\nreally come to think of it, what do I want with the pig? People would\nonly say: 'Over yonder they eat up everything they have.' No, now I have\na goat I can have both milk and cheese and keep the goat into the\nbargain. Let in the goat, children.\"\n\n\"But I haven't got the goat either,\" said Gudbrand. \"When I got a bit on\nthe way I changed the goat and got a fine sheep for it.\"\n\n\"Well!\" returned the woman, \"you do everything just as I should wish\nit--just as if I had been there myself. What do we want with a goat? I\nshould have to climb up hill and down dale to get it home at night. No,\nwhen I have a sheep I can have wool and clothes in the house and food as\nwell. Run out, children, and let in the sheep.\"\n\n\"But I haven't got the sheep any longer,\" said Gudbrand, \"for when I had\ngot a bit on the way I changed it for a goose.\"\n\n\"Well, thank you for that!\" said the woman; \"and many thanks, too! What\ndo I want with a sheep? I have neither wheel nor spindle, and I do not\ncare either to toil and drudge making clothes; we can buy clothes now as\nbefore. Now I can have goose-fat, which I have so long been wishing for,\nand some feathers to stuff that little pillow of mine. Run, children,\nand let in the goose.\"\n\n\"Well, I haven't got the goose either,\" said Gudbrand. \"When I had got a\nbit farther on the way I changed it for a cock.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't know how you can think of it all!\" cried the woman. \"It's\njust as if I had done it all myself. A cock! Why, it's just the same as\nif you'd bought an eight-day clock, for every morning the cock will crow\nat four, so we can be up in good time. What do we want with a goose? I\ncan't make goose-fat and I can easily fill my pillow with some soft\ngrass. Run, children, and let in the cock.\"\n\n\"But I haven't the cock either,\" said Gudbrand; \"for when I had got a\nbit farther I became so terribly hungry I had to sell the cock for\nsixpence and get some food to keep body and soul together.\"\n\n\"Heaven be praised you did that!\" cried the woman. \"Whatever you do, you\nalways do the very thing I could have wished. Besides, what did we want\nwith the cock? We are our own masters and can lie as long as we like in\nthe mornings. Heaven be praised! As long as I have got you back again,\nwho manage everything so well, I shall neither want cock, nor goose, nor\npig, nor cows.\"\n\nGudbrand then opened the door. \"Have I won the hundred dollars now?\" he\nasked. And the neighbor was obliged to confess that he had.\n\n\n\n\nPORK AND HONEY\n\n\nAt dawn the other day, when Bruin came tramping over the bog with a fat\npig, Reynard sat up on a stone by the moorside.\n\n\"Good day, grandsire,\" said the fox. \"What's that so nice that you have\nthere?\"\n\n\"Pork,\" said Bruin.\n\n\"Well, I have got a dainty bit, too,\" said Reynard.\n\n\"What is that?\" asked the bear.\n\n\"The biggest wild bee's comb I ever saw in my life,\" said Reynard.\n\n\"Indeed, you don't say so,\" said Bruin, who grinned and licked his lips,\nhe thought it would be so nice to taste a little honey. At last he said:\n\"Shall we swap our fare?\"\n\n\"Nay, nay!\" said Reynard, \"I can't do that.\"\n\nThe end was that they made a bet, and agreed to name three trees. If the\nfox could say them off faster than the bear, he was to have leave to\ntake one bite of the bacon; but if the bear could say them faster, he\nwas to have leave to take one sup out of the comb. Greedy Bruin thought\nhe was sure to sup out all the honey at one breath.\n\n\"Well,\" said Reynard, \"it's all fair and right, no doubt, but all I say\nis, if I win, you shall be bound to tear off the bristles where I am to\nbite.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Bruin, \"I'll help you, as you can't help yourself.\"\n\nSo they were to begin and name the trees.\n\n\"FIR, SCOTCH FIR, SPRUCE,\" growled out Bruin, for he was gruff in his\ntongue, that he was. But for all that he only named two trees, for fir\nand Scotch fir are both the same.\n\n\"_Ash_, _Aspen_, _Oak_,\" screamed Reynard, so that the wood rang again.\n\nSo he had won the wager, and down he ran and took the heart out of the\npig at one bit, and was just running off with it. But Bruin was angry\nbecause Reynard had taken the best bit out of the whole pig, and so he\nlaid hold of his tail and held him fast.\n\n\"Stop a bit, stop a bit,\" he said, and was wild with rage.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said the fox, \"it's all right; let me go, grandsire, and\nI'll give you a taste of my honey.\"\n\nWhen Bruin heard that, he let go his hold, and away went Reynard after\nthe honey.\n\n\"Here, on this honeycomb,\" said Reynard, \"lies a leaf, and under this\nleaf is a hole, and that hole you are to suck.\"\n\nAs he said this he held up the comb under the bear's nose, took off the\nleaf, jumped up on a stone, and began to gibber and laugh, for there was\nneither honey nor honeycomb, but a wasp's nest, as big as a man's head,\nfull of wasps, and out swarmed the wasps and settled on Bruin's head,\nand stung him in his eyes and ears, and mouth and snout. And he had such\nhard work to rid himself of them that he had no time to think of\nReynard.\n\nAnd that's why, ever since that day, Bruin is so afraid of wasps.\n\n\n\n\nHOW REYNARD OUTWITTED BRUIN\n\n\nOnce on a time there was a bear, who sat on a hillside in the sun and\nslept. Just then Reynard came slouching by and caught sight of him.\n\n\"There you sit taking your ease, grandsire,\" said the fox. \"Now, see if\nI don't play you a trick.\" So he went and caught three field-mice and\nlaid them on a stump close under Bruin's nose, and then he bawled out\ninto his ear, \"Bo! Bruin, here's Peter the Hunter, just behind this\nstump\"; and as he bawled this out he ran off through the wood as fast as\never he could.\n\nBruin woke up with a start, and when he saw the three little mice, he\nwas as mad as a March hare, and was going to lift up his paw and crush\nthem, for he thought it was they who had bellowed in his ear.\n\nBut just as he lifted it he caught sight of Reynard's tail among the\nbushes by the woodside, and away he set after him, so that the underwood\ncrackled as he went, and, to tell the truth, Bruin was so close upon\nReynard that he caught hold of his off hind foot just as he was crawling\ninto an earth under a pine-root. So there was Reynard in a pinch; but\nfor all that he had his wits about him, for he screeched out, \"SLIP THE\nPINE-ROOT AND CATCH REYNARD'S FOOT,\" and so the silly bear let his foot\nslip and laid hold of the root instead. But by that time Reynard was\nsafe inside the earth, and called out:\n\n\"I cheated you that time, too, didn't I, grandsire?\"\n\n\"Out of sight isn't out of mind,\" growled Bruin down the earth, and was\nwild with rage.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COCK AND THE CRESTED HEN\n\n\nThere was once a Cock who had a whole farmyard of hens to look after and\nmanage; and among them was a tiny little Crested Hen. She thought she\nwas altogether too grand to be in company with the other hens, for they\nlooked so old and shabby; she wanted to go out and strut about all by\nherself, so that people could see how fine she was, and admire her\npretty crest and beautiful plumage.\n\nSo one day when all the hens were strutting about on the dust-heap and\nshowing themselves off, and picking and clucking, as they were wont to\ndo, this desire seized her, and she began to cry:\n\n\"Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, over the fence! cluck, cluck, cluck, over\nthe fence!\" and wanted to get away.\n\nThe Cock stretched his neck and shook his comb and feathers, and cried:\n\n\"Go not there!\" And all the old hens cackled:\n\n\"Go-go-go-go not there!\"\n\nBut she set off for all that; and was not a little proud when she got\naway, and could go about pluming and showing herself off quite alone.\n\nJust then a hawk began to fly round in a circle above her, and all of a\nsudden he swooped down upon her. The Cock, as he stood on top of the\ndust-heap, stretching his neck and peering first with one eye and then\nwith the other, had long noticed him, and cried with all his might:\n\n\"Come, come, come and help! Come, come, come and help!\" till the people\ncame running to see what was the matter. They frightened the hawk so\nthat he let go the Hen, and had to be satisfied with her tuft and her\nfinest feathers, which he had plucked from her. And then, you may be\nsure, she lost no time in running-home; she stretched her neck, and\ntripped along, crying:\n\n\"See, see, see, see how I look! See, see, see, see how I look!\"\n\nThe Cock came up to her in his dignified way, drooped one of his wings,\nand said:\n\n\"Didn't I tell you?\"\n\nFrom that time the Hen did not consider herself too good to be in the\ncompany of the old hens on the dust-heap.\n\n [Illustration: \"DIDN'T I TELL YOU?\" SAID THE COCK]\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD WOMAN AND THE TRAMP\n\n\nThere was once a tramp who went plodding his way through a forest. The\ndistance between the houses was so great that he had little hope of\nfinding a shelter before the night set in. But all of a sudden he saw\nsome lights between the trees. He then discovered a cottage, where there\nwas a fire burning on the hearth. How nice it would be to roast one's\nself before that fire, and to get a bite of something, he thought; and\nso he dragged himself toward the cottage.\n\nJust then an old woman came toward him.\n\n\"Good evening, and well met!\" said the tramp.\n\n\"Good evening,\" said the woman. \"Where do you come from?\"\n\n\"South of the sun, and east of the moon,\" said the tramp; \"and now I am\non the way home again, for I have been all over the world with the\nexception of this parish,\" he said.\n\n\"You must be a great traveler, then,\" said the woman. \"What may be your\nbusiness here?\"\n\n\"Oh, I want a shelter for the night,\" he said.\n\n\"I thought as much,\" said the woman; \"but you may as well get away from\nhere at once, for my husband is not at home, and my place is not an\ninn,\" she said.\n\n\"My good woman,\" said the tramp, \"you must not be so cross and\nhard-hearted, for we are both human beings, and should help one another,\nas it is written.\"\n\n\"Help one another?\" said the woman, \"help? Did you ever hear such a\nthing? Who'll help me, do you think? I haven't got a morsel in the\nhouse! No, you'll have to look for quarters elsewhere,\" she said.\n\nBut the tramp was like the rest of his kind; he did not consider\nhimself beaten at the first rebuff. Although the old woman grumbled and\ncomplained as much as she could, he was just as persistent as ever, and\nwent on begging and praying like a starved dog, until at last she gave\nin, and he got permission to lie on the floor for the night.\n\nThat was very kind, he thought, and he thanked her for it.\n\n\"Better on the floor without sleep, than suffer cold in the forest\ndeep,\" he said; for he was a merry fellow, this tramp, and was always\nready with a rhyme.\n\nWhen he came into the room he could see that the woman was not so badly\noff as she had pretended; but she was a greedy and stingy woman of the\nworst sort, and was always complaining and grumbling.\n\nHe now made himself very agreeable, of course, and asked her in his most\ninsinuating manner for something to eat.\n\n\"Where am I to get it from?\" said the woman. \"I haven't tasted a morsel\nmyself the whole day.\"\n\nBut the tramp was a cunning fellow, he was.\n\n\"Poor old granny, you must be starving,\" he said. \"Well, well, I suppose\nI shall have to ask you to have something with me, then?\"\n\n\"Have something with you!\" said the woman. \"You don't look as if you\ncould ask any one to have anything! What have you got to offer one, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"He who far and wide does roam sees many things not known at home; and\nhe who many things has seen has wits about him and senses keen,\" said\nthe tramp. \"Better dead than lose one's head! Lend me a pot, granny!\"\n\nThe old woman now became very inquisitive, as you may guess, and so she\nlet him have a pot.\n\nHe filled it with water and put it on the fire, and then he blew with\nall his might till the fire was burning fiercely all round it. Then he\ntook a four-inch nail from his pocket, turned it three times in his\nhand, and put it into the pot.\n\nThe woman stared with all her might.\n\n\"What's this going to be?\" she asked.\n\n\"Nail broth,\" said the tramp, and began to stir the water with the\nporridge-stick.\n\n\"Nail broth?\" asked the woman.\n\n\"Yes, nail broth,\" said the tramp.\n\nThe old woman had seen and heard a good deal in her time, but that\nanybody could have made broth with a nail, well, she had never heard the\nlike before.\n\n\"That's something for poor people to know,\" she said, \"and I should like\nto learn how to make it.\"\n\n\"That which is not worth having will always go a-begging,\" said the\ntramp, but if she wanted to learn how to make it she had only to watch\nhim, he said, and went on stirring the broth.\n\nThe old woman squatted on the ground, her hands clasping her knees, and\nher eyes following his hand as he stirred the broth.\n\n\"This generally makes good broth,\" he said; \"but this time it will very\nlikely be rather thin, for I have been making broth the whole week with\nthe same nail. If one only had a handful of sifted oatmeal to put in,\nthat would make it all right,\" he said. \"But what one has to go without,\nit's no use thinking more about,\" and so he stirred the broth again.\n\n\"Well, I think I have a scrap of flour somewhere,\" said the old woman,\nand went out to fetch some, and it was both good and fine.\n\nThe tramp began putting the flour into the broth, and went on stirring,\nwhile the woman sat staring now at him and then at the pot until her\neyes nearly burst their sockets.\n\n\"This broth would be good enough for company,\" he said, putting in one\nhandful of flour after another. \"If I had only a bit of salted beef and\nfew potatoes to put in, it would be fit for gentlefolks, however\nparticular they might be,\" he said. \"But what one has to go without,\nit's no use thinking more about.\"\n\nWhen the old woman really began to think it over, she thought she had\nsome potatoes, and perhaps a bit of beef as well; and these she gave the\ntramp, who went on stirring, while she sat and stared as hard as ever.\n\n\"This will be grand enough for the best in the land,\" he said.\n\n\"Well, I never!\" said the woman; \"and just fancy--all with a nail!\"\n\nHe was really a wonderful man, that tramp! He could do more than drink a\nsup and turn the tankard up, he could.\n\n\"If one had only a little barley and a drop of milk, we could ask the\nking himself to have some of it,\" he said; \"for this is what he has\nevery blessed evening--that I know, for I have been in service under the\nking's cook,\" he said.\n\n\"Dear me! Ask the king to have some! Well, I never!\" exclaimed the\nwoman, slapping her knees. She was quite awestruck at the tramp and his\ngrand connections.\n\n\"But what one has to go without, it's no use thinking more about,\" said\nthe tramp.\n\nAnd then she remembered she had a little barley; and as for milk, well,\nshe wasn't quite out of that, she said. And then she went to fetch\nboth the one and the other.\n\nThe tramp went on stirring, and the woman sat staring, one moment at him\nand the next at the pot.\n\nThen all at once the tramp took out the nail.\n\n\"Now it's ready, and now we'll have a real good feast,\" he said. \"But to\nthis kind of soup the king and the queen always take a dram or two, and\none sandwich at least. And then they always have a cloth on the table\nwhen they eat,\" he said. \"But what one has to go without, it's no use\nthinking more about.\"\n\nBut by this time the old woman herself had begun to feel quite grand and\nfine, I can tell you; and if that was all that was wanted to make it\njust as the king had it, she thought it would be nice to have it exactly\nthe same way for once, and play at being king and queen with the tramp.\nShe went straight to a cupboard and brought out the brandy bottle, dram\nglasses, butter and cheese, smoked beef and veal, until at last the\ntable looked as if it were decked out for company.\n\nNever in her life had the old woman had such a grand feast, and never\nhad she tasted such broth, and just fancy, made only with a nail!\n\nShe was in such a good and merry humor at having learned such an\neconomical way of making broth that she did not know how to make enough\nof the tramp who had taught her such a useful thing.\n\nSo they ate and drank, and drank and ate, until they became both tired\nand sleepy.\n\nThe tramp was now going to lie down on the floor. But that would never\ndo, thought the old woman; no, that was impossible. \"Such a grand person\nmust have a bed to lie in,\" she said.\n\nHe did not need much pressing. \"It's just like the sweet Christmas\ntime,\" he said, \"and a nicer woman I never came across. Ah, well! Happy\nare they who meet with such good people,\" said he; and he lay down on\nthe bed and went asleep.\n\nAnd next morning, when he woke, the first thing he got was a good\nbreakfast.\n\nWhen he was going, the old woman gave him a bright dollar piece.\n\n\"And thanks, many thanks, for what you have taught me,\" she said. \"Now I\nshall live in comfort, since I have learned how to make broth with a\nnail.\"\n\n\"Well, it isn't very difficult if one only has something good to add to\nit,\" said the tramp as he went his way.\n\nThe woman stood at the door staring after him.\n\n\"Such people don't grow on every bush,\" she said.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD WOMAN AND THE FISH\n\n\nThere was once upon a time an old woman who lived in a miserable cottage\non the brow of a hill overlooking the town. Her husband had been dead\nfor many years, and her children were in service round about the parish,\nso she felt rather lonely and dreary by herself, and otherwise she was\nnot particularly well off either.\n\nBut when it has been ordained that one shall live, one cannot think of\none's funeral; and so one has to take the world as it is, and still be\nsatisfied; and that was about all the old woman could console herself\nwith. But that the road up which she had to carry the pails from the\nwell should be so heavy; and that the axe should have such a blunt and\nrusty edge, so that it was only with the greatest difficulty that she\ncould cut the little firewood she had; and that the stuff she was\nweaving was not sufficient--all this grieved her greatly, and caused her\nto complain from time to time.\n\nSo one day, when she had pulled the bucket up from the well, she\nhappened to find a small pike in the bucket, which did not at all\ndisplease her.\n\n\"Such fish does not come into my pot every day,\" she said; and now she\ncould have a really grand dish, she thought. But the fish that she had\ngot this time was no fool; it had the gift of speech, that it had.\n\n\"Let me go!\" said the fish.\n\nThe old woman began to stare, you may be sure. Such a fish she had never\nbefore seen in this world.\n\n\"Are you so much better than other fish, then?\" she said, \"and too good\nto be eaten?\"\n\n\"Wise is he who does not eat all he gets hold of,\" said the fish; \"only\nlet me go, and you shall not remain without reward for your trouble.\"\n\n\"I like a fish in the bucket better than all those frisking about free\nand frolicsome in the lakes,\" said the old woman. \"And what one can\ncatch with one hand, one can also carry to one's mouth,\" she said.\n\n\"That may be,\" said the fish; \"but if you do as I tell you, you shall\nhave three wishes.\"\n\n\"Wish in one fist, and pour water in the other, and you'll soon see\nwhich you will get filled first,\" said the woman. \"Promises are well\nenough, but keeping them is better, and I sha'n't believe much in you\ntill I have got you in the pot,\" she said.\n\n\"You should mind that tongue of yours,\" said the fish, \"and listen to my\nwords. Wish for three things, and then you'll see what will happen,\" he\nsaid.\n\nWell, the old woman knew well enough what she wanted to wish, and there\nmight not be so much danger in trying how far the fish would keep his\nword, she thought.\n\nShe then began thinking of the heavy hill up from the well.\n\n\"I would wish that the pails could go of themselves to the well and home\nagain,\" she said.\n\n\"So they shall,\" said the fish.\n\nThen she thought of the axe, and how blunt it was.\n\n\"I would wish that whatever I strike shall break right off,\" she said.\n\n\"So it shall,\" said the fish.\n\nAnd then she remembered that the stuff she was weaving was not long\nenough.\n\n\"I would wish that whatever I pull shall become long,\" she said.\n\n\"That it shall,\" said the fish. \"And now, let me down into the well\nagain.\"\n\nYes, that she would, and all at once the pails began to shamble up the\nhill.\n\n\"Dear me, did you ever see anything like it?\" The old woman became so\nglad and pleased that she slapped herself across the knees.\n\nCrack, crack! it sounded; and then both her legs fell off, and she was\nleft sitting on the top of the lid over the well.\n\nNow came a change. She began to cry and wail, and the tears started from\nher eyes, whereupon she began blowing her nose with her apron, and as\nshe tugged at her nose it grew so long, so long, that it was terrible to\nsee.\n\nThat is what she got for her wishes! Well, there she sat, and there she\nno doubt still sits, on the lid of the well. And if you want to know\nwhat it is to have a long nose, you had better go there and ask her, for\nshe can tell you all about it, she can.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LAD AND THE FOX\n\n\nThere was once upon a time a little lad, who was on his way to church,\nand when he came to a clearing in the forest he caught sight of a fox\nthat was lying on the top of a big stone so fast asleep that he did not\nknow the lad had seen him.\n\n\"If I catch that fox,\" said the lad, \"and sell the skin, I shall get\nmoney for it, and with that money I shall buy some rye, and that rye I\nshall sow in father's corn-field at home. When the people who are on\ntheir way to church pass by my field of rye they'll say: 'Oh, what\nsplendid rye that lad has got!' Then I shall say to them: 'I say, keep\naway from my rye!' But they won't heed me. Then I shall shout to them:\n'I say, keep away from my rye!' But still they won't take any notice of\nme. Then I shall scream with all my might: 'Keep away from my rye!' and\nthen they'll listen to me.\"\n\nBut the lad screamed so loudly that the fox woke up and made off at once\nfor the forest, so that the lad did not even get as much as a handful of\nhis hair.\n\nNo; it's best always to take what you can reach, for of undone deeds you\nshould never screech, as the saying goes.\n\n\n\n\nADVENTURES OF ASHPOT\n\n\nNorwegian children are just as fond of fairy stories as are any other\nchildren, and they are lucky in having a great number, for that famous\nstory-teller, Hans Christian Andersen, was a Dane, and as the Danish\nlanguage is very like the Norwegian, his stories were probably known in\nNorway long before they were known in England. But the Norwegians have\nplenty of other stories of their own, and they love to sit by the fire\nof burning logs or round the stove in the long winter evenings and\nlisten to them. Of course, they know all about people like Cinderella\nand Jack the Giant-Killer, but their favorite hero is called by the name\nof Ashpot, who is sometimes a kind of boy Cinderella and sometimes a\nJack the Giant-Killer.\n\nThe following are two stories which the little yellow-haired Norse\nchildren never fail to delight in:\n\nOnce upon a time there was a man who had been out cutting wood, and when\nhe came home he found that he had left his coat behind, so he told his\nlittle daughter to go and fetch it. The child started off, but before\nshe reached the wood darkness came on, and suddenly a great big\nhill-giant swooped down upon her.\n\n\"Please, Mr. Giant,\" said she, trembling all over, \"don't take me away\nto-night, as father wants his coat; but to-morrow night, if you will\ncome when I go to the _stabbur_ to fetch the bread, I will go away with\nyou quietly.\"\n\nSo the giant agreed, and the next night, when she went to fetch the\nbread, he came and carried her off. As soon as it was found that she was\nmissing, her father sent her eldest brother to look for her, but he came\nback without finding her. The second brother was also sent, but with no\nbetter result. At last the father turned to his youngest son, who was\nthe drudge of the house, and said: \"Now, Ashpot, you go and see if you\ncan find your sister.\"\n\nSo away went Ashpot, and no sooner had he reached the wood than he met a\nbear.\n\n\"Friend bear,\" said Ashpot, \"will you help me?\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" answered the bear. \"Get up on my back.\"\n\nAnd Ashpot mounted the bear's back and rode off. Presently they met a\nwolf.\n\n\"Friend wolf,\" said Ashpot, \"will you do some work for me?\"\n\n\"Willingly,\" answered the wolf.\n\n\"Then jump up behind,\" said Ashpot, and the three went on deeper into\nthe wood.\n\nThey next met a fox, and then a hare, both of whom were enlisted into\nAshpot's service, and, mounted on the back of the bear, were swiftly\ncarried off to the giant's abode.\n\n\"Good day, Mr. Giant!\" said they.\n\n\"Scratch my back!\" roared the giant, who lay stretched in front of the\nfire warming himself.\n\nThe hare immediately climbed up and began to scratch as desired; but the\ngiant knocked him over, and down he fell on to the hearthstone, breaking\noff his forelegs, since which time all hares have had short forelegs.\n\nThe fox next clambered up to scratch the giant's back, but he was served\nlike the hare. Then the wolf's turn came, but the giant said that he was\nno better at scratching than the others.\n\n\"_You_ scratch me!\" shouted the giant, turning impatiently to the bear.\n\n\"All right,\" answered Bruin; \"I know all about scratching,\" and he\nforthwith dug his claws into the giant's back and ripped it into a\nthousand pieces.\n\nThen all the beasts danced on the dead body of the monster, and Ashpot\nrecovered his sister and took her home, carrying off, at the same time,\nall the giant's gold and silver. The bear and the wolf burst into the\ncattle-sheds and devoured all the cows and sheep, the fox feasted in the\nhen-roost, while the hare had the free run of the oatfield. So every one\nwas satisfied.\n\n * * *\n\nThe other story is also about Ashpot, whose two elder brothers still\ntreated him very badly, and eventually turned him out of his home. Poor\nAshpot wandered away up into the mountains, where he met a huge giant.\nAt first he was terribly afraid, but after a little while he told the\ngiant what had happened to him, and asked him if he could find a job for\nhim.\n\n\"You are just the very man I want,\" said the giant. \"Come along with\nme.\"\n\nThe first work to be done was to make a fire to brew some ale, so they\nwent off together to the forest to cut firewood. The giant carried a\nclub in place of an axe, and when they came to a large birch-tree he\nasked Ashpot whether he would like to club the tree down or climb up and\nhold the top of it. The boy thought that the latter would suit him best,\nand he soon got up to the topmost branches and held on to them. But the\ngiant gave the tree such a blow with his club as to knock it right out\nof the ground, sending Ashpot flying across the meadows into a marsh.\nLuckily he landed on soft ground, and was none the worse for his\nadventure; and they soon managed to get the tree home, when they set to\nwork to make a fire.\n\nBut the wood was green, and would not burn, so the giant began to blow.\nAt the first puff Ashpot found himself flying up to the ceiling as if he\nhad been a feather, but he managed to catch hold of a piece of\nbirch-bark among the rafters, and on reaching the ground again he told\nthe giant that he had been up to get something to make the fire burn.\n\nThe fire was soon burning splendidly, and the giant commenced to brew\nthe ale, drinking it off as fast as it was made. Ashpot watched him\ngetting gradually stupid, and heard him mutter to himself, \"To-night I\nwill kill him,\" so he began to think of a plan to outwit his master.\nWhen he went to bed he placed the giant's cream-whisk, with which the\ngiant used to beat his cream, between the sheets as a dummy, while\nAshpot himself crept under the bedstead, where he was safely hidden.\n\nIn the middle of the night, just as he had expected, he heard the giant\ncome into his room, and then there was a tremendous whack as the giant\nbrought his club down on to the bed. Next morning the boy came out of\nhis room as if nothing had happened, and his master was very much\nsurprised to find him still alive.\n\n\"Hullo!\" said the giant. \"Didn't you feel anything in the night?\"\n\n\"I did feel something,\" said Ashpot; \"but I thought that it was only a\nsausage-peg that had fallen on the bed, so I went to sleep again.\"\n\nThe giant was more astonished than ever, and went off to consult his\nsister, who lived in a neighboring mountain, and was about ten times\nhis size. At length it was settled that the giantess should set her\ncooking-pot on the fire, and that Ashpot should be sent to see her, when\nshe was to tip him into the caldron and boil him. In the course of the\nday the giant sent the boy off with a message to his sister, and when he\nreached the giantess's dwelling he found her busy cooking. But he soon\nsaw through her design, and he took out of his pocket a nut with a hole\nin it.\n\n\"Look here,\" he said, showing the nut to the ogress, \"you think you can\ndo everything. I will tell you one thing that you can't do: you can't\nmake yourself so small as to be able to creep into the hole in this\nnut.\"\n\n\"Rubbish!\" replied the giantess. \"Of course I can!\"\n\nAnd in a moment she became as small as a fly, and crept into the nut,\nwhereupon Ashpot hurled it into the fire, and that was the end of the\ngiantess.\n\nThe boy was so delighted that he returned to his old tyrant the giant\nand told him what had happened to his sister. This set the big man\nthinking again as to how he was to rid himself of this sharp-witted\nlittle nuisance. He did not understand boys, and he was afraid of\nAshpot's tricks, so he offered him as much gold and silver as he could\ncarry if he would go away and never return. Ashpot, however, replied\nthat the amount he could carry would not be worth having, and that he\ncould not think of going unless he got as much as the giant could carry.\n\nThe giant, glad to get rid of him at any cost, agreed, and, loading\nhimself with gold and silver and precious stones, he set out with the\nboy toward his home. When they reached the outskirts of the farms they\nsaw a herd of cattle, and the giant began to tremble.\n\n\"What sort of beasts are these?\" he asked.\n\n\"They are my father's cows,\" replied Ashpot, \"and you had better put\ndown your burden and run back to your mountain, or they may bite you.\"\n\nThe giant was only too happy to get away, so, depositing his load, which\nwas as big as a small hill, he made off, and left the boy to carry his\ntreasure home by himself.\n\nSo enormous was the amount of the valuables that it was six years before\nAshpot succeeded in removing everything from the field where the giant\nhad set it down; but he and all his relations were rich people for the\nrest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\nNORWEGIAN BIRD-LEGENDS\n\n\nThe Norwegians have several quaint old legends connected with some of\ntheir birds. This is the story of the goldcrest, known in Norway as the\n\"bird-king\":\n\nOnce upon a time the golden eagle determined to be publicly acknowledged\nas king of the birds, and he called a meeting of every kind of bird in\nthe world. As many of the birds would come from tropical countries, he\nappointed a day in the warmest month; and the place he chose was a vast\ntract called Gr\u00f6nfjeld, where every species of bird would feel at home,\nsince it bordered on the sea, yet was well provided with trees, shrubs,\nflowers, rocks, sand, and heather, as well as with lakes and rivers full\nof fish.\n\nSo on the morning of the great congress the birds began to arrive\nin a steady stream, and by noon every description of bird was\nrepresented--even the ostrich, though how he contrived to cross the seas\nthe story does not say. The eagle welcomed them, and when the last\nhumming-bird had settled down he addressed the meeting, saying that\nthere was no doubt that he had a right to demand to be proclaimed their\nking. The spread of his wings was prodigious, he could fearlessly look\nat the sun, and to whatever height he soared he could detect the\nslightest movement of a fly on the earth.\n\nBut the birds objected to the eagle on account of his plundering\nhabits, and then each in turn stated his own case as a claimant for the\nkingship--the ostrich could run the fastest, the bird of paradise and\nthe peacock could look the prettiest, the parrot could talk the best,\nthe canary could sing the sweetest, and every one of them, for some\nreason or other, was in his own opinion superior to his fellows. After\nseveral days of fruitless discussion it was finally decided that\nwhichever bird could soar the highest should be, once and for all,\nproclaimed king.\n\nEvery bird who could fly at all tried his best, and the golden eagle,\nconfident of success, waited till last. Finally he spread his wings, and\nas he did so an impudent little goldcrest hopped (unbeknown to his great\nrival) on to his back. Up went the eagle, and soon outdistanced every\nother bird. Then, when he had almost reached the sun, he shouted out,\n\"Well, here I am, the highest of all!\" \"Not so,\" answered the goldcrest,\nas, leaving the eagle's back, he fluttered upward, until suddenly he\nknocked his head against the sun and set fire to his crest. Stunned by\nthe shock, the little upstart fell headlong to the ground, but, soon\nrecovering himself, he immediately flew up on to the royal rock and\nshowed the golden crown which he had assumed. Unanimously he was\nproclaimed king of the birds, and by this name, concludes the legend, he\nhas ever since been known, his sunburnt crest remaining as a proof of\nhis cunning and daring.\n\nIn those parts of Norway where the goldcrest is rarely seen the same\nstory, omitting the part about the sun and the burnt crest, is told of\nthe common wren, who is said to have broken off his tail in his great\nfall. And to this is applied the moral: \"Proud and ambitious people\nsometimes meet with an unexpected downfall.\"\n\nThere are at least seven kinds of woodpeckers found in Norway, and of\nthese the great black woodpecker is the largest. The woodmen consider it\nto be a bird which brings bad luck, and avoid it as much as possible.\nThey call it \"Gertrude's Bird\" because of the following legend:\n\n\"Our Saviour once called on an old woman who lived all alone in a little\ncottage in an extensive forest in Norway. Her name was Gertrude, and she\nwas a hard, avaricious old creature, who had not a kind word for\nanybody, and although she was not badly off in a worldly point of view,\nshe was too stingy and selfish to assist any poor wayfarer who by chance\npassed her cottage door. One day our Lord happened to come that way,\nand, being hungry and thirsty, he asked of Gertrude a morsel of bread to\neat and a cup of cold water to drink. But the wicked old woman refused,\nand turned our Saviour from the door with harsh words. Our Lord\nstretched forth his hand toward the aged crone, and, as a punishment,\nshe was immediately transformed into a black woodpecker; and ever since\nthat day the wicked old creature has wandered about the world in the\nshape of a bird, seeking her daily bread from wood to wood and from tree\nto tree. The red head of the bird is supposed to represent the red\nnightcap worn by Gertrude.\"\n\nLegends of this description were doubtless introduced in the early days\nof Christianity in order to impress the new religion on the people, and\nseveral have been preserved. Thus the turtle-dove is revered as a bird\nwhich spoke kind words to our Lord on the cross; and, similarly, the\nswallow is said to have perched upon the cross and to have pitied him;\nwhile the legend of the crossbill relates how its beak became twisted in\nendeavoring to withdraw the nails, and how to this day it bears upon its\nplumage the red blood-stains from the cross.\n\nOne more Christian legend--about the lapwing, or peewit: The lapwing was\nat one time a handmaiden of the Virgin Mary, and stole her mistress's\nscissors, for which she was transformed into a bird, and condemned to\nwear a forked tail resembling scissors. Moreover, the lapwing was doomed\nforever and ever to fly from tussock to tussock, uttering over and over\nagain the plaintive cry of \"Tyvit! tyvit!\" (\"Thief! thief!\")\n\nIn the old viking times, before Christianity had found its way so far\nnorth, the bird which influenced the people most was the raven. He was\ncredited with much knowledge, as well as with the power to bring good or\nbad luck. One of the titles of Odin was \"Raven-god,\" and he had as\nmessengers two faithful ravens, \"who could speak all manner of tongues,\nand flew on his behests to the uttermost parts of the earth.\" In those\ndays the figure of a raven was usually emblazoned on shield and\nstandard, and it was thought that as the battle raged, victory or defeat\ncould be foreseen by the attitude assumed by the embroidered bird on the\nstandard. And it is well known that William the Conqueror (who came of\nviking stock) flew a banner with raven device at the battle of Hastings\nwhere he won such a great victory.\n\nBut the greatest use of all to which the sable bird was put was to guide\nthe roving pirates on their expeditions. Before a start was made a raven\nwas let loose, and the direction of his flight gave the viking ships\ntheir course. In this manner, according to the old Norse legends, did\nFloki discover Iceland; and many other extraordinary things happened\nunder the influence of the raven.\n\n [Illustration: \"EVERY DESCRIPTION OF BIRD WAS REPRESENTED\"]\n\n\n\n\n THE UGLY DUCKLING\n\n BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nIt was glorious out in the country. It was summer, and the corn-fields\nwere yellow, and the oats were green; the hay had been put up in stacks\nin the green meadows, and the stork went about on his long red legs, and\nchattered Egyptian, for this was the language he had learned from his\ngood mother. All around the fields and meadows were great forests, and\nin the midst of these forests lay deep lakes. Yes, it was really\nglorious out in the country. In the midst of the sunshine there lay an\nold farm, surrounded by deep canals, and from the wall down to the water\ngrew great burdocks, so high that little children could stand upright\nunder the loftiest of them. It was just as wild there as in the deepest\nwood. Here sat a Duck upon her nest, for she had to hatch her young\nones; but she was almost tired out before the little ones came; and then\nshe so seldom had visitors. The other ducks liked better to swim about\nin the canals than to run up to sit down under a burdock, and cackle\nwith her.\n\nAt last one egg-shell after another burst open. \"Piep! piep!\" it cried,\nand in all the eggs there were little creatures that stuck out their\nheads.\n\n\"Rap! rap!\" they said; and they all came rapping out as fast as they\ncould, looking all round them under the green leaves; and the mother let\nthem look as much as they chose, for green is good for the eyes.\n\n\"How wide the world is!\" said the young ones, for they certainly had\nmuch more room now than when they were in the eggs.\n\n\"Do you think this is all the world?\" asked the mother. \"That extends\nfar across the other side of the garden, quite into the parson's field,\nbut I have never been there yet. I hope you are all together,\" she\ncontinued, and stood up. \"No, I have not all. The largest egg still lies\nthere. How long is this to last? I am really tired of it.\" And she sat\ndown again.\n\n\"Well, how goes it?\" asked an old Duck who had come to pay her a visit.\n\n\"It lasts a long time with that one egg,\" said the Duck who sat there.\n\"It will not burst. Now, only look at the others; are they not the\nprettiest ducks one could possibly see? They are all like their father;\nthe bad fellow never comes to see me.\"\n\n\"Let me see the egg which will not burst,\" said the old visitor.\n\"Believe me, it is a turkey's egg. I was once cheated in that way, and\nhad much anxiety and trouble with the young ones, for they are afraid of\nthe water. I could not get them to venture in. I quacked and clucked,\nbut it was no use. Let me see the egg. Yes, that's a turkey egg! Let it\nlie there, and come and teach the other children to swim.\"\n\n\"I think I will sit on it a little longer,\" said the Duck. \"I've sat so\nlong now that I can sit a few days more.\"\n\n\"Just as you please,\" said the old Duck; and she went away.\n\nAt last the great egg burst. \"Piep! piep!\" said the little one, and\ncrept forth. It was very large and very ugly. The Duck looked at it.\n\n\"It's a very large duckling,\" said she; \"none of the others look like\nthat: can it really be a turkey chick? Now we shall soon find it out. It\nmust go into the water, even if I have to thrust it in myself.\"\n\nThe next day the weather was splendidly bright, and the sun shone on all\nthe green trees. The Mother-Duck went down to the water with all her\nlittle ones. Splash she jumped into the water. \"Quack! quack!\" she said,\nand one duckling after another plunged in. The water closed over their\nheads, but they came up in an instant, and swam capitally; their legs\nwent of themselves, and there they were all in the water. The ugly gray\nDuckling swam with them.\n\n\"No, it's not a turkey,\" said she; \"look how well it can use its legs,\nand how upright it holds itself. It is my own child! On the whole it's\nquite pretty, if one looks at it rightly. Quack! quack! come with me,\nand I'll lead you out into the great world, and present you in the\npoultry-yard; but keep close to me, so that no one may tread on you, and\ntake care of the cats!\"\n\nAnd so they came into the poultry-yard. There was a terrible riot going\non in there, for two families were quarreling about an eel's head, and\nthe cat got it after all.\n\n\"See, that's how it goes in the world!\" said the Mother-Duck; and she\nwhetted her beak, for she, too, wanted the eel's head. \"Only use your\nlegs,\" she said. \"See that you can bustle about, and bow your heads\nbefore the old Duck yonder. She's the grandest of her tribe; she's of\nSpanish blood--that's why she's so fat; and do you see, she has a red\nrag around her leg; that's something particularly fine, and the greatest\ndistinction a duck can enjoy; it signifies that one does not want to\nlose her, and that she's to be recognized by man and beast. Shake\nyourselves--don't turn in your toes; a well-brought-up duck turns its\ntoes quite out, just like father and mother, so! Now bend your necks and\nsay 'Rap'!\"\n\nAnd they did so; but the other ducks round about looked at them, and\nsaid quite boldly:\n\n\"Look there! now we're to have these hanging on, as if there were not\nenough of us already! And--fie!--how that Duckling yonder looks; we\nwon't stand that!\" And one duck flew up immediately, and bit it in the\nneck.\n\n\"Let it alone,\" said the mother; \"it does no harm to any one.\"\n\n\"Yes, but it's too large and peculiar,\" said the Duck who had bitten it;\n\"and therefore it must be buffeted.\"\n\n\"Those are pretty children that the mother has there,\" said the old Duck\nwith the rag on her leg. \"They're all pretty but that one; that was a\nfailure. I wish she could alter it.\"\n\n\"That cannot be done, my lady,\" replied the Mother-Duck. \"It is not\npretty, but it has a really good disposition, and swims as well as any\nother; I may even say it swims better. I think it will grow up pretty,\nand become smaller in time; it has lain too long in the egg, and\ntherefore is not properly shaped.\" And then she pinched it in the neck,\nand smoothed its feathers. \"Moreover, it is a drake,\" she said, \"and\ntherefore it is not of so much consequence. I think he will be very\nstrong: he makes his way already.\"\n\n\"The other ducklings are graceful enough,\" said the old Duck. \"Make\nyourself at home; and if you find an eel's head, you may bring it to\nme.\"\n\nAnd now they were at home. But the poor Duckling which had crept last\nout of the egg, and looked so ugly, was bitten and pushed and jeered, as\nmuch by the ducks as by the chickens.\n\n\"It is too big!\" they all said. And the turkey-cock, who had been born\nwith spurs, and therefore thought himself an emperor, blew himself up\nlike a ship in full sail, and bore straight down upon it; then he\ngobbled, and grew quite red in the face. The poor Duckling did not know\nwhere it should stand or walk; it was quite melancholy because it looked\nugly, and was scoffed at by the whole yard.\n\nSo it went on the first day; and afterward it became worse and worse.\nThe poor Duckling was hunted about by every one; even its brothers and\nsisters were quite angry with it, and said: \"If the cat would only catch\nyou, you ugly creature!\" And the mother said: \"If you were only far\naway!\" And the ducks bit it, and the chickens beat it, and the girl who\nhad to feed the poultry kicked at it with her foot.\n\nThen it ran and flew over the fence, and the little birds in the bushes\nflew up in fear.\n\n\"That is because I am so ugly!\" thought the Duckling; and it shut its\neyes, but flew on farther; thus it came out into the great moor, where\nthe wild ducks lived. Here it lay the whole night long; and it was weary\nand downcast.\n\nToward morning the wild ducks flew up, and looked at their new\ncompanion.\n\n\"What sort of a one are you?\" they asked; and the Duckling turned in\nevery direction, and bowed as well as it could. \"You are remarkably\nugly!\" said the wild ducks. \"But that is very indifferent to us, so long\nas you do not marry into our family.\"\n\nPoor thing! it certainly did not think of marrying, and only hoped to\nobtain leave to lie among the reeds and drink some of the swamp water.\n\nThus it lay two whole days; then came thither two wild geese, or,\nproperly speaking, two wild ganders. It was not long since each had\ncrept out of an egg, and that's why they were so saucy.\n\n\"Listen, comrade,\" said one of them. \"You're so ugly that I like you.\nWill you go with us, and become a bird of passage? Near here, in another\nmoor, there are a few sweet lovely wild geese, all unmarried, and all\nable to say 'Rap'! You've a chance of making your fortune, ugly as you\nare!\"\n\n\"Piff! paff!\" resounded through the air; and the two ganders fell down\ndead in the swamp, and the water became blood-red. \"Piff! paff!\" it\nsounded again, and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the reeds.\nAnd then there was another report. A great hunt was going on. The\nhunters were lying in wait all round the moor, and some were even\nsitting up in the branches of the trees, which spread far over the\nreeds. The blue smoke rose up like clouds among the dark trees, and was\nwafted far away across the water; and the hunting dogs came--splash,\nsplash!--into the swamp, and the rushes and the reeds bent down on every\nside. That was a fright for the poor Duckling! It turned its head, and\nput it under its wing; but at that moment a frightful great dog stood\nclose by the Duckling. His tongue hung far out of his mouth and his eyes\ngleamed horrible and ugly; he thrust out his nose close against the\nDuckling, showed his sharp teeth, and--splash, splash!--on he went,\nwithout seizing it.\n\n\"Oh, Heaven be thanked!\" sighed the Duckling. \"I am so ugly that even\nthe dog does not like to bite me!\"\n\nAnd so it lay quite quiet, while the shots rattled through the reeds and\ngun after gun was fired. At last, late in the day, silence was restored;\nbut the poor Duckling did not dare to rise up; it waited several hours\nbefore it looked around, and then hastened away out of the moor as fast\nas it could. It ran on over field and meadow; there was such a storm\nraging that it was difficult to get from one place to another.\n\nToward evening the Duckling came to a miserable little hut. This hut was\nso dilapidated that it did not know on which side it should fall; and\nthat's why it remained standing. The storm whistled round the Duckling\nin such a way that the poor creature was obliged to sit down, to stand\nagainst it; and the tempest grew worse and worse. Then the Duckling\nnoticed that one of the hinges of the door had given way, and the door\nhung so slanting that the Duckling could slip through the crack into the\nroom.\n\nHere lived a woman, with her Tom Cat and her Hen. And the Tom Cat, whom\nshe called Sonnie, could arch his back and purr, he could even give out\nsparks; but for that one had to stroke his fur the wrong way. The Hen\nhad quite little short legs, and therefore she was called\nChickabiddy-shortshanks; she laid good eggs, and the woman loved her as\nher own child.\n\nIn the morning the strange Duckling was at once noticed, and the Tom Cat\nbegan to purr, and the Hen to cluck.\n\n\"What's this?\" said the woman, looking all around; but she could not see\nvery well, and therefore she thought the Duckling was a fat duck that\nhad strayed. \"This is a rare prize!\" she said. \"Now I shall have duck's\neggs. I hope it is not a drake. We must try that.\"\n\nAnd so the Duckling was admitted on trial for three weeks; but no eggs\ncame. And the Tom Cat was master of the house, and the Hen was the lady,\nand always said, \"We and the world!\" for she thought they were half the\nworld, and by far the better half. The Duckling thought one might have a\ndifferent opinion, but the Hen would not allow it.\n\n\"Can you lay eggs?\" she asked.\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you'll have the goodness to hold your tongue.\"\n\nAnd the Tom Cat said, \"Can you curve your back, and purr and give out\nsparks?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then you cannot have any opinion of your own when sensible people are\nspeaking.\"\n\nAnd the Duckling sat in the corner and was melancholy; then the fresh\nair and the sunshine streamed in; and it was seized with such a strange\nlonging to swim on the water, that it could not help telling the Hen of\nit.\n\n\"What are you thinking of?\" cried the Hen. \"You have nothing to do,\nthat's why you have these fancies. Purr or lay eggs, and they will pass\nover.\"\n\n\"But it is so charming to swim on the water!\" said the Duckling, \"so\nrefreshing to let it close above one's head, and to dive to the bottom.\"\n\n\"Yes, that must be a mighty pleasure, truly,\" quoth the Hen. \"I fancy\nyou must have gone crazy. Ask the Cat about it--he's the cleverest\nanimal I know--ask him if he likes to swim on the water, or to dive\ndown; I won't speak about myself. Ask our mistress, the old woman; no\none in the world is cleverer than she. Do you think she has any desire\nto swim, and to let the water close above her head?\"\n\n\"You don't understand me,\" said the Duckling.\n\n\"We don't understand you? Then pray who is to understand you? You surely\ndon't pretend to be cleverer than the Tom Cat and the woman--I won't say\nanything of myself. Don't be conceited, child, and be grateful for all\nthe kindness you have received. Did you not get into a warm room, and\nhave you not fallen into company from which you may learn something. But\nyou are a chatterer, and it is not pleasant to associate with you. You\nmay believe me, I speak for your good. I tell you disagreeable things,\nand by that one may always know one's true friends! Only take care that\nyou learn to lay eggs, or to purr and give out sparks!\"\n\n\"I think I will go out into the wide world,\" said the Duckling.\n\n\"Yes, do go,\" replied the Hen.\n\nAnd the Duckling went away. It swam on the water, and dived, but it was\nslighted by every creature because of its ugliness.\n\n [Illustration: \"HAVE YOU NOT FALLEN INTO COMPANY FROM WHICH YOU MAY\n LEARN SOMETHING?\"]\n\nNow came the Autumn. The leaves in the forest turned yellow and brown;\nthe wind caught them so that they danced about, and up in the air it was\nvery cold. The clouds hung low, heavy with hail and snow-flakes, and on\nthe fence stood the raven, crying, \"Croak! croak!\" for mere cold; yes,\nit was enough to make one feel cold to think of this. The poor little\nDuckling certainly had not a good time. One evening--the sun was just\nsetting in his beauty--there came a whole flock of great handsome birds\nout of the bushes; they were dazzlingly white, with long flexible necks;\nthey were swans. They uttered a very peculiar cry, spread forth their\nglorious great wings, and flew away from that cold region to warmer\nlands, to fair open lakes. They mounted so high, so high! and the ugly\nlittle Duckling felt quite strangely as it watched them. It turned round\nand round in the water like a wheel, stretched out its neck toward them,\nand uttered such a strange loud cry as frightened itself. Oh! it could\nnot forget those beautiful, happy birds; and as soon as it could see\nthem no longer, it dived down to the very bottom, and when it came up\nagain, it was quite beside itself. It knew not the name of those birds,\nand knew not whither they were flying; but it loved them more than it\nhad ever loved any one. It was not at all envious of them. How could it\nthink of wishing to possess such loveliness as they had? It would have\nbeen glad if only the ducks would have endured its company.\n\nAnd the Winter grew cold, very cold! The Duckling was forced to swim\nabout in the water, to prevent the surface from freezing entirely; but\nevery night the hole in which it swam about became smaller and smaller.\nIt froze so hard that the icy covering cracked again; and the Duckling\nwas obliged to use its legs continually to prevent the hole from\nfreezing up. At last it became exhausted, and lay quite still, and thus\nfroze fast into the ice.\n\nEarly in the morning a peasant came by, and when he saw what had\nhappened, he took his wooden shoe, broke the ice-crust to pieces, and\ncarried the Duckling home to his wife. Then it came to itself again. The\nchildren wanted to play with it, but the Duckling thought they would do\nit an injury, and in its terror fluttered up into the milk-pan, so that\nthe milk spurted down into the room. The woman clapped her hands, at\nwhich the Duckling flew down into the butter-tub, and then into the\nmeal-barrel and out again. How it looked then! The woman screamed, and\nstruck at it with the fire-tongs; the children tumbled over one another,\nin their efforts to catch the Duckling; and they laughed and screamed\nfinely! Happily the door stood open, and the poor creature was able to\nslip out between the shrubs into the newly fallen snow; and there it lay\nquite exhausted.\n\nBut it would be too melancholy if I were to tell all the misery and want\nwhich the Duckling had to endure in the hard Winter. It lay out on the\nmoor among the reeds, when the sun began to shine again and the larks to\nsing: it was a beautiful Spring.\n\nThen all at once the Duckling could flap its wings: they beat the air\nmore strongly than before, and bore it strongly away; and before it well\nknew how all this happened, it found itself in a great garden, where the\nelder trees smelt sweet, and bent their long green branches down to the\ncanal that wound through the region. Oh, here it was so beautiful, such\na gladness of Spring! and from the thicket came three glorious white\nswans; they rustled their wings, and swam lightly on the water. The\nDuckling knew the splendid creatures, and felt oppressed by a peculiar\nsadness.\n\n\"I will fly away to them, to the royal birds! and they will kill me,\nbecause I, that am so ugly, dare to approach them. But it is of no\nconsequence! Better to be killed by _them_ than to be pursued by ducks,\nand beaten by fowls, and pushed about by the girl who takes care of the\npoultry-yard, and to suffer hunger in Winter!\" And it flew out into the\nwater, and swam toward the beautiful swans: these looked at it, and came\nsailing down upon it with outspread wings. \"Kill me!\" said the poor\ncreature, and bent its head down upon the water, expecting nothing but\ndeath. But what was this that it saw in the clear water? It beheld its\nown image; and, lo! it was no longer a clumsy, dark-gray bird, ugly and\nhateful to look at, but--a swan!\n\nIt matters nothing if one is born in a duck-yard, if one has only lain\nin a swan's egg.\n\nIt felt quite glad at all the need and misfortune it had suffered, now\nit realized its happiness in all the splendor that surrounded it. And\nthe great swans swam around it, and stroked it with their beaks.\n\nInto the garden came little children, who threw bread and corn into the\nwater; and the youngest cried: \"There is a new one!\" And the other\nchildren shouted joyously: \"Yes, a new one has arrived!\" And they\nclapped their hands and danced about, and ran to their father and\nmother; and bread and cake were thrown into the water; and they all\nsaid: \"The new one is the most beautiful of all! so young and handsome!\"\nAnd the old swans bowed their heads before him.\n\nThen he felt quite ashamed, and hid his head under his wings, for he did\nnot know what to do; he was so happy, and yet not at all proud. He\nthought how he had been persecuted and despised; and now he heard them\nsaying that he was the most beautiful of all birds. Even the elder tree\nbent its branches straight down into the water before him, and the sun\nshone warm and mild. Then his wings rustled, he lifted his slender neck,\nand cried rejoicingly from the depths of his heart:\n\n\"I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was still the Ugly\nDuckling!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE WILD SWANS\n\nBY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN\n\n\nFar away, where the swallows fly when our Winter comes on, lived a King\nwho had eleven sons, and one daughter named Eliza. The eleven brothers\nwere Princes, and each went to school with a star on his breast and his\nsword by his side. They wrote with pencils of diamond upon slates of\ngold, and learned by heart just as well as they read: one could see\ndirectly that they were Princes. Their sister Eliza sat upon a little\nstool of plate-glass, and had a picture-book which had been bought for\nthe value of half a kingdom.\n\nOh, the children were particularly well off; but it was not always to\nremain so.\n\nTheir father, who was King of the whole country, married a bad Queen,\nwho did not love the poor children at all. On the very first day they\ncould notice this. In the whole palace there was great feasting, and\nthe children were playing there. Then guests came; but instead of the\nchildren receiving, as they had been accustomed to do, all the spare\ncake and all the roasted apples, they only had some sand given them in a\ntea-cup, and were told that they might make believe that was something\ngood. The next week the Queen took the little sister Eliza into the\ncountry, to a peasant and his wife; and but a short time had elapsed\nbefore she told the King so many falsehoods about the poor Princes that\nhe did not trouble himself any more about them.\n\n\"Fly out into the world and get your own living,\" said the wicked Queen.\n\"Fly like great birds without a voice.\"\n\nBut she could not make it so bad for them as she had intended, for they\nbecame eleven magnificent wild swans. With a strange cry they flew out\nof the palace windows, far over the park and into the wood.\n\nIt was yet quite early morning when they came by the place where their\nsister Eliza lay asleep in the peasant's room. Here they hovered over\nthe roof, turned their long necks, and flapped their wings; but no one\nheard or saw it. They were obliged to fly on, high up toward the clouds,\nfar away into the wide world; there they flew into a great dark wood,\nwhich stretched away to the seashore.\n\nPoor little Eliza stood in the peasant's room and played with a green\nleaf, for she had no other playthings. And she pricked a hole in the\nleaf, and looked through it up at the sun, and it seemed to her that she\nsaw her brothers' clear eyes; each time the warm sun shone upon her\ncheeks she thought of all the kisses they had given her.\n\nEach day passed just like the rest. When the wind swept through the\ngreat rose hedges outside the house, it seemed to whisper to them: \"What\ncan be more beautiful than you?\" But the roses shook their heads and\nanswered \"Eliza!\" And when the old woman sat in front of her door on\nSunday and read in her hymn-book, the wind turned the leaves and said to\nthe book: \"Who can be more pious than you?\" and the hymn-book said,\n\"Eliza!\" And what the rose bushes and the hymn-book said was the simple\ntruth.\n\nWhen she was 15 years old she was to go home. And when the Queen saw how\nbeautiful she was, she became spiteful and filled with hatred toward\nher. She would have been glad to change her into a wild swan, like her\nbrothers, but she did not dare to do so at once, because the King wished\nto see his daughter.\n\nEarly in the morning the Queen went into the bath, which was built of\nwhite marble, and decked with soft cushions and the most splendid\ntapestry; and she took three toads and kissed them, and said to the\nfirst: \"Sit upon Eliza's head when she comes into the bath, that she may\nbecome as stupid as you. Seat yourself upon her forehead,\" she said to\nthe second, \"that she may become as ugly as you, and her father may not\nknow her. Rest on her heart,\" she whispered to the third, \"that she may\nreceive an evil mind and suffer pain from it.\"\n\nThen she put the toads into the clear water, which at once assumed a\ngreen color; and calling Eliza, she caused her to undress and step into\nthe water. And while Eliza dived, one of the toads sat upon her hair,\nand the second on her forehead, and the third on her heart; but she did\nnot seem to notice it; and as soon as she rose, three red poppies were\nfloating on the water. If the creatures had not been poisonous, and if\nthe witch had not kissed them, they would have been changed into red\nroses. But at any rate they became flowers, because they had rested on\nthe girl's head, and forehead, and heart. She was too good and innocent\nfor sorcery to have power over her.\n\nWhen the wicked Queen saw that, she rubbed Eliza with walnut juice, so\nthat the girl became dark brown, and smeared a hurtful ointment on her\nface, and let her beautiful hair hang in confusion. It was quite\nimpossible to recognize the pretty Eliza.\n\nWhen her father saw her he was much shocked and declared this was not\nhis daughter. No one but the yard dog and the swallows would recognize\nher; but they were poor animals who had nothing to say in the matter.\n\nThen poor Eliza wept, and thought of her eleven brothers who were all\naway. Sorrowfully she crept out of the castle, and walked all day over\nfield and moor till she came into the great wood. She did not know\nwhither she wished to go, only she felt very downcast and longed for her\nbrothers: they had certainly been, like herself, thrust forth into the\nworld, and she would seek for them and find them.\n\nShe had been only a short time in the wood when the night fell; she\nquite lost the path, therefore she lay down upon the soft moss, prayed\nher evening prayer, and leaned her head against the stump of a tree.\nDeep silence reigned around, the air was mild, and in the grass and in\nthe moss gleamed like a green fire hundreds of glow-worms; when she\nlightly touched one of the twigs with her hand, the shining insects fell\ndown upon her like shooting stars.\n\nThe whole night long she dreamed of her brothers. They were children\nagain playing together, writing with their diamond pencils upon their\ngolden slates, and looking at the beautiful picture-book which had cost\nhalf a kingdom. But on the slates they were not writing as they had been\naccustomed to do, lines and letters, but the brave deeds they had done,\nand all they had seen and experienced; and in the picture-book\neverything was alive--the birds sang, and the people went out of the\nbook and spoke with Eliza and her brothers. But when the leaf was\nturned, they jumped back again directly, so that there should be no\nconfusion.\n\nWhen she awoke the sun was already standing high. She could certainly\nnot see it, for the lofty trees spread their branches far and wide above\nher. But the rays played there above like a gauzy veil, there was a\nfragrance from the fresh verdure, and the birds almost perched upon her\nshoulders. She heard the splashing of water; it was from a number of\nsprings all flowing into a lake which had the most delightful sandy\nbottom. It was surrounded by thick growing bushes, but at one part the\nstags had made a large opening, and here Eliza went down to the water.\nThe lake was so clear, that if the wind had not stirred the branches and\nthe bushes, so that they moved, one would have thought they were painted\nupon the depths of the lake, so clearly was every leaf mirrored, whether\nthe sun shone upon it or whether it lay in shadow.\n\nWhen Eliza saw her own face she was terrified--so brown and ugly was\nshe; but when she wetted her little hand and rubbed her eyes and her\nforehead, the white skin gleamed forth again. Then she undressed and\nwent down into the fresh water; a more beautiful King's daughter than\nshe was could not be found in the world. And when she had dressed\nherself again and plaited her long hair, she went to the bubbling\nspring, drank out of the hollow of her hand, and then wandered far\ninto the wood, not knowing whither she went. She thought of her dear\nbrothers, and thought that Heaven would certainly not forsake her. It is\nGod who lets the wild apples grow, to satisfy the hunger. He showed her\na wild apple tree, with the boughs bending under the weight of the\nfruit. Here she took her midday meal, placing props under the boughs,\nand then went into the darkest part of the forest. There it was so still\nthat she could hear her own footsteps, as well as the rustling of every\ndry leaf which bent under her feet. Not one bird was to be seen, not one\nray of sunlight could find its way through the great dark boughs of the\ntrees; the lofty trunks stood so close together that when she looked\nbefore her it appeared as though she were surrounded by sets of palings\none behind the other.\n\nThe night came on quite dark. Not a single glow-worm now gleamed in the\ngrass. Sorrowfully she lay down to sleep. Then it seemed to her as if\nthe branches of the trees parted above her head, and mild eyes of angels\nlooked down upon her from on high.\n\nWhen the morning came, she did not know if it had really been so or if\nshe had dreamed it.\n\nShe went a few steps forward, and then she met an old woman with berries\nin her basket, and the old woman gave her a few of them. Eliza asked the\ndame if she had not seen eleven Princes riding through the wood.\n\n\"No,\" replied the old woman, \"but yesterday I saw eleven swans swimming\nin the river close by, with golden crowns on their heads.\"\n\nAnd she led Eliza a short distance farther, to a declivity, and at the\nfoot of the slope a little river wound its way. The trees on its margin\nstretched their long leafy branches across toward each other, and where\ntheir natural growth would not allow them to come together, the roots\nhad been torn out of the ground, and hung, intermingled with the\nbranches, over the water.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE WHOLE DAY THEY FLEW ONWARD THROUGH THE AIR\"]\n\nEliza said farewell to the old woman, and went beside the river to the\nplace where the stream flowed out to the great open ocean.\n\nThe whole glorious sea lay before the young girl's eyes, but not one\nsail appeared on its surface, and not a boat was to be seen. How was she\nto proceed? She looked at the innumerable little pebbles on the shore;\nthe water had worn them all round. Glass, ironstones, everything that\nwas there had received its shape from the water, which was much softer\nthan even her delicate hand.\n\n\"It rolls on unweariedly, and thus what is hard becomes smooth. I will\nbe just as unwearied. Thanks for your lesson, you clear rolling waves;\nmy heart tells me that one day you will lead me to my dear brothers.\"\n\nOn the foam-covered sea-grass lay eleven white swan feathers, which she\ncollected into a bunch. Drops of water were upon them--whether they were\ndewdrops or tears nobody could tell. Solitary it was there on the\nstrand, but she did not feel it, for the sea showed continual\nchanges--more in a few hours than the lovely lakes can produce in a\nwhole year. Then a great black cloud came. It seemed as if the sea would\nsay: \"I can look angry, too.\" And then the wind blew, and the waves\nturned their white side outward. But when the clouds gleamed red and the\nwinds slept, the sea looked like a rose-leaf; sometimes it became green,\nsometimes white. But however quietly it might rest, there was still a\nslight motion on the shore; the water rose gently like the breast of a\nsleeping child.\n\nWhen the sun was just about to set, Eliza saw eleven wild swans, with\ncrowns on their heads, flying toward the land: they swept along one\nafter the other, so that they looked like a long white band. Then Eliza\ndescended the slope and hid herself behind a bush. The swans alighted\nnear her and flapped their great white wings.\n\nAs soon as the sun had disappeared beneath the water, the swan's\nfeathers fell off, and eleven handsome Princes, Eliza's brothers, stood\nthere. She uttered a loud cry, for although they were greatly altered,\nshe knew and felt that it must be they. And she sprang into their arms\nand called them by their names; and the Princes felt supremely happy\nwhen they saw their little sister again; and they knew her, though she\nwas now tall and beautiful. They smiled and wept; and soon they\nunderstood how cruel their stepmother had been to them all.\n\n\"We brothers,\" said the eldest, \"fly about as wild swans as long as the\nsun is in the sky, but directly it sinks down we receive our human form\nagain. Therefore we must always take care that we have a resting-place\nfor our feet when the sun sets; for if at that moment we were flying up\ntoward the clouds, we should sink down into the deep as men. We do not\ndwell here: there lies a land just as fair as this beyond the sea. But\nthe way thither is long; we must cross the great sea, and on our path\nthere is no island where we could pass the night, only a little rock\nstands forth in the midst of the waves; it is just large enough that we\ncan rest upon it close to each other. If the sea is rough, the foam\nspurts far over us, but we thank God for the rock. There we pass the\nnight in our human form: but for this rock we could never visit our\nbeloved native land, for we require two of the longest days in the year\nfor our journey.\n\n\"Only once in each year is it granted to us to visit our home. For\neleven days we may stay here and fly over the great wood, from whence we\ncan see the palace in which we were born and in which our father lives,\nand the high church tower, beneath whose shade our mother lies buried.\nHere it seems to us as though the bushes and trees were our relatives;\nhere the wild horses career across the steppe, as we have seen them do\nin our childhood; here the charcoal-burner sings the old songs to which\nwe danced as children; here is our fatherland; hither we feel ourselves\ndrawn, and here we have found you, our dear little sister. Two days more\nwe may stay here; then we must away across the sea to a glorious land,\nbut which is not our native land. How can we bear you away? for we have\nneither ship nor boat.\"\n\n\"In what way can I release you?\" asked the sister; and they conversed\nnearly the whole night, slumbering only for a few hours.\n\nShe was awakened by the rustling of the swans' wings above her head. Her\nbrothers were again enchanted, and they flew in wide circles and at last\nfar away; but one of them, the youngest, remained behind, and the swan\nlaid his head in her lap, and she stroked his wings; and the whole day\nthey remained together. Toward evening the others came back, and when\nthe sun had gone down they stood there in their own shapes, and one of\nthem said:\n\n\"To-morrow we fly far away from here, and cannot come back until a whole\nyear has gone by. But we cannot leave you thus! Have you courage to come\nwith us? My arm is strong enough to carry you in the wood; and should\nnot all our wings be strong enough to fly with you over the sea?\"\n\n\"Yes, take me with you,\" said Eliza.\n\nThe whole night they were occupied in weaving a net of the pliable\nwillow bark and tough reeds; and it was great and strong. On this net\nEliza lay down; and when the sun rose, and her brothers were changed\ninto wild swans, they seized the net with their beaks, and flew with\ntheir beloved sister, who was still asleep, high up toward the clouds.\nThe sunbeams fell exactly upon her face, so one of the swans flew over\nher head, that his broad wings might overshadow her.\n\nThey were far away from the shore when Eliza awoke: she was still\ndreaming, so strange did it appear to her to be carried high through the\nair and over the sea. By her side lay a branch with beautiful ripe\nberries and a bundle of sweet-tasting roots. The youngest of the\nbrothers had collected them and placed them there for her. She smiled at\nhim thankfully, for she recognized him; he it was who flew over her and\nshaded her with his wings.\n\nThey were so high that the greatest ship they descried beneath them\nseemed like a white sea-gull lying upon the waters. A great cloud stood\nbehind them--it was a perfect mountain; and upon it Eliza saw her own\nshadow and those of the eleven swans; there they flew on, gigantic in\nsize. Here was a picture, a more splendid one than she had ever yet\nseen. But as the sun rose higher and the cloud was left farther behind\nthem, the floating shadowy images vanished away.\n\nThe whole day they flew onward through the air, like a whirring arrow,\nbut their flight was slower than it was wont to be, for they had their\nsister to carry. Bad weather came on; the evening drew near; Eliza\nlooked anxiously at the setting sun, for the lonely rock in the ocean\ncould not be seen. It seemed to her as if the swans beat the air more\nstrongly with their wings. Alas! she was the cause that they did not\nadvance fast enough. When the sun went down, they must become men and\nfall into the sea and drown. Then she prayed a prayer from the depths of\nher heart; but still she could descry no rock. The dark clouds came\nnearer in a great black threatening body rolling forward like a mass of\nlead, and the lightning burst forth, flash upon flash.\n\nNow the sun just touched the margin of the sea. Eliza's heart trembled.\nThen the swans darted downward, so swiftly that she thought they were\nfalling, but they paused again. The sun was half hidden below the water.\nAnd now for the first time she saw the little rock beneath her, and it\nlooked no larger than a seal might look, thrusting his head forth from\nthe water. The sun sank very fast; at last it appeared only like a star;\nand then her foot touched the firm land. The sun was extinguished like\nthe last spark in a piece of burned paper; her brothers were standing\naround her, arm in arm, but there was not more than just enough room for\nher and for them. The sea beat against the rock and went over her like\nfine rain; the sky glowed in continual fire, and peal on peal the\nthunder rolled; but sister and brothers held each other by the hand and\nsang psalms, from which they gained comfort and courage.\n\nIn the morning twilight the air was pure and calm. As soon as the sun\nrose the swans flew away with Eliza from the island. The sea still ran\nhigh, and when they soared up aloft, from their high position the white\nfoam on the dark green waves looked like millions of white swans\nswimming upon the water.\n\nWhen the sun mounted higher, Eliza saw before her, half floating in the\nair, a mountainous country with shining masses of ice on its water, and\nin the midst of it rose a castle, apparently a mile long, with row above\nrow of elegant columns, while beneath waved the palm woods and bright\nflowers as large as mill-wheels. She asked if this was the country to\nwhich they were bound, but the swans shook their heads, for what she\nbeheld was the gorgeous, everchanging palace of Fata Morgana, and into\nthis they might bring no human being. As Eliza gazed at it, mountains,\nwoods, and castle fell down, and twenty proud churches, all nearly\nalike, with high towers and pointed windows, stood before them. She\nfancied she heard the organs sounding, but it was the sea she heard.\nWhen she was quite near the churches they changed to a fleet sailing\nbeneath her, but when she looked down it was only a sea mist gliding\nover the ocean. Thus she had a continual change before her eyes, till at\nlast she saw the real land to which they were bound. There arose the\nmost glorious blue mountains, with cedar forests, cities, and palaces.\nLong before the sun went down she sat on the rock, in front of a great\ncave overgrown with delicate green trailing plants looking like\nembroidered carpets.\n\n\"Now we shall see what you will dream of here to-night,\" said the\nyoungest brother; and he showed her to her bed-chamber.\n\n\"Heaven grant that I may dream of a way to release you,\" she replied.\n\nAnd this thought possessed her mightily, and she prayed ardently for\nhelp; yes, even in her sleep she continued to pray. Then it seemed to\nher as if she were flying high in the air to the cloudy palace of Fata\nMorgana; and the fairy came out to meet her, beautiful and radiant; and\nyet the fairy was quite like the old woman who had given her the berries\nin the wood, and had told her of the swans with golden crowns on their\nheads.\n\n\"Your brothers can be released,\" said she. \"But have you courage and\nperseverance? Certainly, water is softer than your delicate hands, and\nyet it changes the shape of stones but it feels not the pain that your\nfingers will feel; it has no heart, and cannot suffer the agony and\ntorment you will have to endure. Do you see the stinging nettle which I\nhold in my hand? Many of the same kind grow around the cave in which you\nsleep: those only, and those that grow upon churchyard graves, are\nserviceable, remember that. Those you must pluck, though they will burn\nyour hands into blisters. Break these nettles to pieces with your feet,\nand you will have flax; of this you must plait and weave eleven shirts\nof mail with long sleeves: throw these over the eleven swans, and the\ncharm will be broken. But recollect well, from the moment you begin this\nwork until it is finished, even though it should take years to\naccomplish, you must not speak. The first word you utter will pierce\nyour brothers' hearts like a deadly dagger. Their lives hang on your\ntongue. Remember all this!\"\n\nAnd she touched her hand with the nettle; it was like a burning fire,\nand Eliza awoke with the smart. It was broad daylight; and close by the\nspot where she had slept lay a nettle like the one she had seen in her\ndream. She fell upon her knees and prayed gratefully, and went forth\nfrom the cave to begin her work.\n\nWith her delicate hands she groped among the ugly nettles. These stung\nlike fire, burning great blisters on her arms and hands; but she thought\nshe would bear it gladly if she could only release her dear brothers.\nThen she bruised every nettle with her bare feet and plaited the green\nflax.\n\nWhen the sun had set her brothers came, and they were frightened when\nthey found her dumb. They thought it was some new sorcery of their\nwicked stepmother's; but when they saw her hands, they understood what\nshe was doing for their sake, and the youngest brother wept. And where\nhis tears dropped she felt no more pain and the burning blisters\nvanished.\n\nShe passed the night at her work, for she could not sleep till she had\ndelivered her dear brothers. The whole of the following day, while the\nswans were away, she sat in solitude, but never had time flown so\nquickly with her as now. One shirt of mail was already finished, and\nnow she began the second.\n\nThen a hunting horn sounded among the hills, and she was struck with\nfear. The noise came nearer and nearer; she heard the barking dogs, and\ntimidly she fled into the cave, bound into a bundle the nettles she had\ncollected and prepared, and sat upon the bundle.\n\nImmediately a great dog came bounding out of the ravine, and then\nanother, and another: they barked loudly, ran back, and then came again.\nOnly a few minutes had gone before all the huntsmen stood before the\ncave, and the handsomest of them was the King of the country. He came\nforward to Eliza, for he had never seen a more beautiful maiden.\n\n\"How did you come hither, you delightful child?\" he asked.\n\nEliza shook her head, for she might not speak--it would cost her\nbrothers their deliverance and their lives. And she hid her hands under\nher apron, so that the King might not see what she was suffering.\n\n\"Come with me,\" said he. \"You cannot stop here. If you are as good as\nyou are beautiful, I will dress you in velvet and silk, and place the\ngolden crown on your head, and you shall dwell in my richest castle, and\nrule.\"\n\nAnd then he lifted her on his horse. She wept and wrung her hands; but\nthe King said:\n\n\"I only wish for your happiness: one day you will thank me for this.\"\n\nAnd then he galloped away among the mountains with her on his horse, and\nthe hunters galloped at their heels.\n\nWhen the sun went down, the fair regal city lay before them, with its\nchurches and cupolas; and the King led her into the castle, where great\nfountains plashed in the lofty marble halls, and where walls and\nceilings were covered with glorious pictures. But she had no eyes for\nall this--she only wept and mourned. Passively she let the women put\nroyal robes upon her, and weave pearls in her hair, and draw dainty\ngloves over her blistered fingers.\n\nWhen she stood there in full array, she was dazzlingly beautiful, so\nthat the Court bowed deeper than ever. And the King chose her for his\nbride, although the archbishop shook his head and whispered that the\nbeauteous fresh maid was certainly a witch, who blinded the eyes and led\nastray the heart of the King.\n\nBut the King gave no ear to this, but ordered that the music should\nsound, and the costliest dishes should be served, and the most beautiful\nmaidens should dance before them. And she was led through fragrant\ngardens into gorgeous halls; but never a smile came upon her lips or\nshone in her eyes; there she stood, a picture of grief. Then the King\nopened a little chamber close by, where she was to sleep. This chamber\nwas decked with splendid green tapestry, and completely resembled the\ncave in which she had been. On the floor lay the bundle of flax which\nshe had prepared from the nettles, and under the ceiling hung the shirt\nof mail she had completed. All these things one of the huntsmen had\nbrought with him as curiosities.\n\n\"Here you may dream yourself back in your former home,\" said the King.\n\"Here is the work which occupied you there, and now, in the midst of all\nyour splendor, it will amuse you to think of that time.\"\n\nWhen Eliza saw this that lay so near her heart, a smile played round her\nmouth and the crimson blood came back into her cheeks. She thought of\nher brothers' deliverance, and kissed the King's hand; and he pressed\nher to his heart, and caused the marriage feast to be announced by all\nthe church bells. The beautiful dumb girl out of the wood became the\nQueen of the country.\n\nThen the archbishop whispered evil words into the King's ear, but they\ndid not sink into the King's heart. The marriage was to take place; the\narchbishop himself was obliged to place the crown on her head, and with\nwicked spite he pressed the narrow circlet so tightly upon her brow that\nit pained her. But a heavier ring lay close around her heart--sorrow for\nher brothers; she did not feel the bodily pain. Her mouth was dumb, for\na single word would cost her brothers their lives, but her eyes glowed\nwith love for the kind, handsome King, who did everything to rejoice\nher. She loved him with her whole heart, more and more every day. Oh,\nthat she had been able to confide in him and to tell him of her grief;\nbut she was compelled to be dumb, and to finish her work in silence.\nTherefore at night she crept away from his side, and went quietly into\nthe little chamber which was decorated like the cave, and wove one shirt\nof mail after another. But when she began the seventh she found that she\nhad no flax left.\n\nShe knew that in the churchyard nettles were growing that she could use;\nbut she must pluck them herself, and how was she to go out there unseen?\n\n\"Oh, what is the pain in my fingers to the torment my heart endures?\"\nthought she. \"I must venture it, and help will not be denied me!\"\n\nWith a trembling heart, as though the deed she purposed doing had been\nevil, she crept into the garden in the moonlight night, and went through\nthe lanes and through the deserted streets to the churchyard. There, on\none of the broadest tombstones she saw sitting a circle of lamias. These\nhideous wretches took off their ragged garments, as if they were going\nto bathe; then with their skinny fingers they clawed open the fresh\ngraves, and with fiendish greed they snatched up the corpses and ate the\nflesh. Eliza was obliged to pass close by them and they fastened their\nevil glances upon her; but she prayed silently, and collected the\nburning nettles, and carried them into the castle.\n\nOnly one person had seen her, and that was the archbishop. He was awake\nwhile others slept. Now he felt sure his opinion was correct, that all\nwas not as it should be with the Queen; she was a witch.\n\nIn secret he told the King what he had seen and what he feared; and when\nthe hard words came from his tongue, the pictures of saints in the\ncathedral shook their heads, as though they could have said: \"It is\nnot so! Eliza is innocent!\" But the archbishop interpreted this\ndifferently--he thought they were bearing witness against her, and\nshaking their heads at her sinfulness. Then two heavy tears rolled down\nthe King's cheeks; he went home with doubt in his heart, and at night\npretended to be asleep; but no real sleep came upon his eyes, for he\nnoticed that Eliza got up. Every night she did this, and each time he\nfollowed her silently, and saw how she disappeared from her chamber.\n\nFrom day to day his face became darker. Eliza saw it, but did not\nunderstand the reason; but it frightened her--and what did she not\nsuffer in her heart for her brothers? Her hot tears flowed upon the\nroyal velvet and purple; they lay there like sparkling diamonds, and all\nwho saw the splendor wished they were Queens. In the meantime she had\nalmost finished her work. Only one shirt of mail was still to be\ncompleted, but she had no flax left, and not a single nettle. Once more,\nfor the last time, therefore, she must go to the churchyard, only to\npluck a few handfuls. She thought with terror of this solitary wandering\nand of the horrible lamias, but her will was firm as her trust in\nProvidence.\n\nEliza went on, but the King and the archbishop followed her. They saw\nher vanish into the churchyard through the wicket gate; and when they\ndrew near, the lamias were sitting upon the gravestones as Eliza had\nseen them; and the King turned aside, for he fancied her among them,\nwhose head had rested against his breast that very evening.\n\n\"The people must condemn her,\" said he.\n\nAnd the people condemned her to suffer death by fire.\n\nOut of the gorgeous regal halls she was led into a dark damp cell, where\nthe wind whistled through the grated window; instead of velvet and silk\nthey gave her the bundle of nettles which she had collected: on this she\ncould lay her head; and the hard burning coats of mail which she had\nwoven were to be her coverlet. But nothing could have been given her\nthat she liked better. She resumed her work and prayed. Without, the\nstreet boys were singing jeering songs about her, and not a soul\ncomforted her with a kind word.\n\nBut toward evening there came the whirring of swans' wings close by the\ngrating--it was the youngest of her brothers. He had found his sister,\nand she sobbed aloud with joy, though she knew that the approaching\nnight would probably be the last she had to live. But now the work was\nalmost finished, and her brothers were here.\n\nNow came the archbishop, to stay with her in her last hour, for he had\npromised the King to do so. And she shook her head, and with looks and\ngestures she begged him to depart, for in this night she must finish her\nwork, or else all would be in vain, all her tears, her pain, and her\nsleepless nights. The archbishop withdrew, uttering evil words against\nher; but poor Eliza knew she was innocent, and diligently continued her\nwork.\n\nThe little mice ran about the floor; they dragged the nettles to her\nfeet, to help as well as they could; and a thrush sat outside the\ngrating of the window, and sang to her the whole night long, as sweetly\nas possible, to keep up her courage.\n\nIt was still twilight; not till an hour afterward would the sun rise.\nAnd the eleven brothers stood at the castle gate, and demanded to be\nbrought before the King. That could not be, they were told, for it was\nstill almost night; the King was asleep, and might not be disturbed.\nThey begged, they threatened, and the sentries came, yes, even the King\nhimself came out, and asked what was the meaning of this. At that moment\nthe sun rose and no more were the brothers to be seen, but eleven wild\nswans flew away over the castle.\n\nAll the people came flocking out at the town gate, for they wanted to\nsee the witch burned. The old horse drew the cart on which she sat. They\nhad put upon her a garment of coarse sackcloth. Her lovely hair hung\nloose about her beautiful head; her cheeks were as pale as death; and\nher lips moved silently, while her fingers were engaged with the green\nflax. Even on the way to death she did not interrupt the work she had\nbegun; the ten shirts of mail lay at her feet, and she wrought at the\neleventh. The mob derided her.\n\n\"Look at the red witch, how she mutters! She has no hymn-book in her\nhand; no, there she sits with her ugly sorcery--tear it in a thousand\npieces!\"\n\nAnd they all pressed upon her, and wanted to tear up the shirts of mail.\nThen eleven wild swans came flying up, and sat round about her on the\ncart, and beat with their wings; and the mob gave way before them,\nterrified.\n\n\"That is a sign from heaven! She is certainly innocent!\" whispered many.\nBut they did not dare to say it aloud.\n\nNow the executioner seized her by the hand; then she hastily threw the\neleven shirts over the swans, and immediately eleven handsome Princes\nstood there. But the youngest had a swan's wing instead of an arm, for a\nsleeve was wanting to his shirt--she had not quite finished it.\n\n\"Now I may speak!\" she said. \"I am innocent!\"\n\nAnd the people who saw what happened bowed before her as before a saint;\nbut she sank lifeless into her brother's arms, such an effect had\nsuspense, anguish, and pain upon her.\n\n\"Indeed, she is innocent,\" said the eldest brother.\n\nAnd now he told everything that had taken place; and while he spoke a\nfragrance arose as of millions of roses, for every piece of faggot in\nthe pile had taken root and was sending forth shoots; and a fragrant\nhedge stood there, tall and great, covered with red roses, and at the\ntop a flower, white and shining, gleaming like a star. This flower the\nKing plucked and placed in Eliza's bosom; and she awoke with peace and\nhappiness in her heart.\n\nAnd all the church bells rang of themselves, and the birds came in great\nflocks. And back to the castle such a marriage procession was held as no\nKing had ever seen.\n\n\n\n\nTAPER TOM\n\n\nIn a certain kingdom there was a very beautiful Princess, but she was so\nsad that no one could make her laugh; she would not even smile, though\nall in the court were gay and happy.\n\nFor a long time her father tried hard to find something that would amuse\nher. But she would sit all day at her window, and, though the members of\nthe court passed and repassed, and called out greetings to her, she\nwould only sigh.\n\nSo at last her father the King caused it to be published abroad that\nwhoever should make the Princess laugh should have her hand in marriage,\nand that half of the kingdom would be her dowry.\n\nBut, that none might attempt this difficult feat without fair assurance,\nthe King added as a sort of postscript to his decree that whoever tried\nto make the Princess laugh and failed should have two broad red stripes\ncut in his back, and salt should be rubbed into the stripes!\n\nNow, as you may imagine, soon there were a great many sore backs in the\nkingdom and in the kingdoms round about. For it was deemed but a slight\nmatter to make a Princess laugh: did not women giggle at little and at\nnothing?\n\nBut, although many came, and there were strange things done, the\nPrincess remained as sad as before.\n\nNow, there was in the kingdom a farmer who had three sons, and they\ndecided that each should have a trial at this task; for to win a dowry\nof half a kingdom was well worth trying.\n\nThe oldest of the farmer's sons was a soldier, and had served in the\nwars, where there was always much laughter. And he said that it would\nnot be worth while for his two brothers to plan to journey to the court,\nbecause he intended to win the Princess that very first day.\n\nSo he dressed up in his uniform, and put his knapsack on his back, and\nstrutted up and down the road in front of the window of the Princess\nlike any pouter-pigeon. But, though the Princess looked at him, once,\nshe did not even turn her eyes in his direction a second time, and the\nstripes which were cut in his back were deep and broad, and he went home\nfeeling very sore.\n\nHis next brother was a schoolmaster, and had one long leg and one short\nleg, so that when he stood on the long leg he seemed a very tall man,\nand when he stood on the short leg he seemed but a dwarf, and he had\nalways found that he could make folk laugh by quickly changing himself\nfrom a tall man to a mere dwarf. Moreover, he was a preacher, and he\ncame out on the road in front of the Princess' window and preached like\nseven parsons and chanted like seven clerks; but it was all for naught,\nfor after the first glance the Princess did not even look at him, though\nthe King who stood near had to hold on to the pillars for laughing.\n\nSo the schoolmaster also went home with a very sore back; and when the\nthird brother, whose name was Taper Tom, because he sat in the ashes and\nmade tapers out of fir, said he now would go and make the Princess\nlaugh, the two older brothers turned to him in scorn, for how could he\ndo what neither of them, the soldier and the schoolmaster, had quite\nfailed to do? The Princess would not even look at him, he might be sure.\n\nBut Taper Tom said that he would try.\n\nBut when he came to the court he did not go before the King to say that\nhe had come to make the Princess laugh. Many there were who were trying\nthat each day, and there was hardly a well back in all the kingdom by\nnow, and Taper Tom had no mind to have his own back cut, for they were\ncutting the stripes broader and rubbing the salt in harder every day.\n\nSo Taper Tom went to the court and asked for work to do. They told him\nthat there was no work to be done, but he said:\n\n\"What, no work--even in the kitchen? I am sure that the cook needs some\none to fetch and carry for her.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" said the lord high chamberlain, \"that might perhaps be. You\nmay go to the kitchen and see.\"\n\nSo Taper Tom went to the kitchen and the cook gave him work fetching and\ncarrying. And every day Taper Tom saw the men who came and went away\nwith their backs sore.\n\nOne morning he was sent to the stream to catch a fish, and he caught a\nnice, fat one. As he came back he met a woman leading a goose with\ngolden feathers by a string tied around its neck.\n\nThe old woman wanted a fish, so she asked Taper Tom if he would trade\nthe fish for the golden goose. \"For,\" she said, \"it is a very strange\ngoose. If you lead it about and anyone lays hands on it, and you say,\n'Hang on, if you care to come with us,' he will have to hang on and go\nwith the goose wherever you lead.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Taper Tom, \"you may have my fish and I will take your\ngoose.\"\n\nSo the old woman took the fish, and Taper Tom took the end of the\nstring in his hand, and the goose followed after.\n\nHe had not gone far when he met a goody who looked longingly at the\ngoose with the golden feathers, and at last she said to Taper Tom: \"That\nis a very fine goose, and I would like to stroke it.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said Taper Tom.\n\nSo the goody laid her hand on the back of the goose, and Taper Tom said:\n\"Hang on, if you care to go with us.\" And the old woman could not take\nher hands off the goose, no matter how hard she tried.\n\nThey went on down the road a way and came to a man who for a long time\nhad hated the goody, and he laughed loudly to see her hanging on to the\ngoose and trying so hard to let go; and thinking to make more difficulty\nfor her he lifted up his foot and kicked at her.\n\nAs his foot touched her dress Taper Tom said: \"Hang on, if you care to\ncome with us.\" And the man's foot hung on to the dress of the goody,\nand, try as hard as he would, he could not let go. He had to follow,\nhopping on one foot all the while, and falling often and being dragged.\nHe was very angry, and said a great many bad words.\n\nAs they passed the blacksmith shop the brawny smith stood at the door,\nand when he saw Taper Tom leading the goose, and the goody hanging on to\nits back, and the man following, hopping on one leg, he began to laugh\nvery much, and ran up to the man and struck him with his bellows, which\nhe held in his hand.\n\nAnd as the bellows touched the man, Taper Tom said: \"Hang on, if you\ncare to come with us.\" And the smith had to follow after the man, for,\ntry as he would, he could not let go of the bellows, nor would the\nbellows let go of the man.\n\nThen Taper Tom turned in on the road that lay in front of the window of\nthe Princess, and though he did not look up, he knew that the Princess\nwas watching.\n\nAnd when the Princess saw the boy leading the golden goose, and the\ngoody hanging on to the back of the goose, and the man hopping on one\nleg behind the goody, and the smith hanging on to his bellows, she\nsmiled inwardly, but she did not laugh.\n\nTaper Tom did not stop, but went on around to the kitchen; and when the\ncook came out to ask for her fish, with her pot and ladle in her hand,\nand she saw the golden goose, and the goody, and the man, and the smith,\nshe began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, so that all the court came out\nto see what had happened, and the Princess leaned from her window to\nknow what it was all about.\n\nAnd just then the cook's ladle touched the shoulder of the smith, and at\nthat moment Taper Tom said: \"Hang on, if you care to come with us.\"\n\nAnd he turned and started back past the window of the Princess. And when\nthe Princess saw the cook hanging on to the shoulder of the smith, with\nher ladle and her pot in her hand, and trying hard to get loose, and the\nsmith hanging on with his bellows to the coat of the man, and the man\nhanging on with one foot to the goody, and the goody with her hands on\nthe back of the golden goose, and the golden goose following Taper Tom,\nled by a string, she began to laugh and to laugh and to laugh.\n\nThen the King proclaimed that Taper Tom should wed the Princess, and\nthat half the kingdom would be her dowry.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOY WHO WENT TO THE NORTH WIND\n\n\n\"Go you now to the safe and get some meal,\" said the mother of the Boy.\n\"And mind that you carry it carefully, for there is but little left.\"\n\nSo the Boy went to the safe to get the meal, but as he came back with it\nthe North Wind blew it away, and he went home empty-handed, and there\nwas no meal in the house that day.\n\nThe next morning the mother sent the Boy to the safe again, and once\nmore the North Wind came and took the meal.\n\nOn the third day it was as before. Then the Boy said: \"I will go to the\nNorth Wind and demand that he give back my meal, for we have nothing to\neat in the house.\"\n\nSo the boy started and went far, far to the country where the North Wind\nabode; and when he had come there the North Wind said:\n\n\"I give you greeting and thanks for your coming. What can I do for you?\"\n\nThe Boy answered: \"I give you back your greeting, and I am come for the\nmeal which you have taken away from me, for we have none left in the\nhouse.\"\n\nThen he told how for three days the North Wind had come and taken the\nmeal as he returned with it from the safe, and now there was nothing to\neat in the house.\n\n\"I have not got your meal,\" said the North Wind, \"but I will give you a\nmagic cloth which, whenever you say to it, 'Cloth, serve forth a\ndinner,' will provide you with all that you can eat and drink in a\nmoment.\"\n\nSo the boy took the cloth and started for his home, but as he had a\nlong way to go he stopped over night at an inn, and, being hungry, and\nwanting to test the cloth, he sat down at a table and unfolded it before\nhim, saying: \"Cloth, serve forth a dinner.\" Immediately there was served\nupon the cloth all sorts of good things to eat--such food as the Boy had\nnever eaten before in his life.\n\n\"It is indeed a magic cloth,\" said the Boy, when, the dinner eaten, he\nfolded the cloth carefully and put it under his pillow before he slept.\n\nNow, the inn-keeper had been a witness to the thing which had happened,\nand had heard the words which the Boy said to the cloth, so he decided\nthat he must possess so wonderful a thing as that, for it would save\nhim much labor. Accordingly, after the Boy had gone to sleep, he stole\nquietly into the room and slipped the wallet from under the Boy's pillow\nand put into it a cloth of his own exactly like it.\n\nWhen the Boy reached home the next day his mother asked him if he had\nbeen to the North Wind, and if he had brought back the meal.\n\nThe Boy said: \"The North Wind was glad to see me, and thanked me for\ncoming, but said he did not have the meal. Instead, he gave me a magic\ncloth, so that we need never be hungry again, for it will serve us a\ndinner at any time we bid it.\"\n\nSo he took the cloth from his wallet and unfolded it on the table, as he\nhad done at the inn, and said: \"Cloth, serve forth a dinner.\" But, as it\nwas not a magic cloth, nothing happened.\n\nThen the Boy said that he would go again to the North Wind and tell him\nthat his cloth would not do as it was bidden. So he journeyed far to the\nhome of the North Wind, and the North Wind said: \"I give you greeting\nand thanks for your coming. What can I do for you?\"\n\nThen the boy told him how he had come before to ask him for the meal\nwhich the North Wind had taken, and the North Wind had given him a magic\ncloth which should serve forth a dinner when it was bidden; but that,\nthough at the inn the cloth had served forth a dinner, when he reached\nhis home it had not done so, and there was nothing to eat in the house.\n\nThen said the North Wind: \"I have no meal to give you, but I will give\nyou a ram which, whenever you say to it, 'Ram, Ram, coin money,' will\ncoin gold ducats before you.\"\n\nSo the Boy took the ram and started for home; but as it was a long way\nhe stopped at the same inn on his way home, and being anxious to try the\nskill of the ram, and needing to pay his bill to the inn-keeper he said\nto it: \"Ram, Ram, coin money.\" And the ram coined golden ducats until\nthe Boy told it to stop.\n\n\"Now,\" thought the observing inn-keeper, \"this is a famous ram indeed. I\nmust have this ram, and I will not need to work at all.\"\n\nSo when the Boy had gone to bed, leaving the ram safely tied in his\nroom, the inn-keeper slipped in quietly, leading another ram which could\nnot coin ducats, which he left in place of the ram which the North Wind\nhad given to the Boy.\n\nAnd when the Boy reached home his mother asked him if he had brought\nback the meal this time. And the Boy answered: \"The North Wind was glad\nto see me, and thanked me for coming, but he said that he did not have\nthe meal. But he gave me a ram, which, when I bid it, 'Ram, Ram, coin\nmoney,' coins golden ducats, so that we will not be hungry any more, for\nwe can buy what we need.\"\n\nThen he led forth the ram into the room and said to it: \"Ram, Ram, coin\nmoney.\" And the ram, not being a magic ram, did nothing but stand in the\nmiddle of the room and stare at him.\n\nNow the Boy was angry, and he said: \"I will go to the North Wind and\ntell him that his ram is worth nothing, and that I want my rights for\nthe meal which he has taken.\"\n\nSo back he went to the North Wind, and when he had told his story the\nNorth Wind said: \"I have nothing that I can give you but that old stick\nin the bag yonder. But when you say to it, 'Stick, come forth and lay\non,' it lays on unceasingly until you say to it, 'Stick, stop.'\"\n\nSo the Boy took the bag with the stick right willingly, for he had by\nthis time a fair idea of the cause of his trouble; and he stopped that\nnight at the inn as he had done before. Though he did not call forth his\nmagic stick, the inn-keeper knew by the way in which he cared for his\nbag that he had some special treasure, and decided that the Boy was a\nsimple fellow, and that he must have this too, whatever it was in the\nbag.\n\nSo when the Boy had gone to his room the man slipped in quietly and\nreached his hand under the Boy's pillow, where the bag lay. But the Boy\nhad not gone to sleep this time, and when he felt the hand under his\npillow he said, \"Stick, come forth and lay on.\"\n\nAnd the stick came forth and began to lay on about the inn-keeper's\nhead, and so hard did it strike that the inn-keeper soon besought the\nBoy to bid it stop--for the stick would respond only to the owner. But\nthe Boy would not bid the stick to stop until the inn-keeper had been\nroundly punished for his stealings, and had promised to return the magic\ncloth and the magic ram. When he had these again in his possession the\nBoy bade the stick return to the bag, and the next morning he went on to\nhis home.\n\nAnd when he had laid the cloth on the table and said to it, \"Cloth,\nserve forth a dinner,\" and the cloth had served forth a dinner, and he\nand his mother had eaten; and he had said to the ram, \"Ram, Ram, coin\nmoney,\" and the ram had coined golden ducats until he bade it to stop;\nand he had put the stick in a safe place where it could always do his\nbidding, he and his mother had plenty, and were well paid for the meal\nwhich the North Wind had taken.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL IRON POT\n\n\nOnce upon a time a little boy and his mother lived together in a small\nbrown house at the foot of a hill. They were very poor, for the boy's\nfather was dead, and the rich man who lived at the top of the hill had\ntaken everything that they had, except one cow.\n\nAt last it came that there was nothing in the house to eat, and the\nmother said: \"Now we will have to sell the cow.\"\n\nSo she told the little boy to take the cow to town and sell it, and the\nboy put a rope around the cow's neck and started off down the road.\n\nHe had not gone far before he met a man with a cloak over him and\ncarrying something under it. He asked the little boy where he was going,\nand the boy told him that there was nothing to eat in the house and he\nwas trying to sell the cow.\n\n\"Will you sell her to me?\" asked the man.\n\n\"What will you give me for her?\" asked the little boy.\n\n\"I will give you an iron pot,\" said the man.\n\nNow, the little boy knew that he ought not to sell the cow for an iron\npot, and he quickly said he would not, but as he spoke he heard a tiny\nvoice under the man's cloak saying: \"Buy me! Buy me!\" So he told the\nstranger that he might have the cow.\n\nThe man took the rope in his hands, and gave the little boy the iron\npot, and he took it and went home again.\n\n\"And what did you get for the cow?\" asked his mother.\n\nBy this time the boy was very much ashamed of having sold the cow for an\niron pot, and he hung his head when his mother asked him what he had\ngotten. They were about to throw the pot away, for, as the mother said,\nthere was nothing to cook in it, when they heard a tiny voice say: \"Put\nme over the fire and put in water.\"\n\nSo the mother put the little pot over the fire and put in water, which,\nindeed, was all that she had to put in. And soon the water in the pot\nbegan to bubble and to boil, and the little pot said: \"I skip! I skip!\"\n\n\"How far do you skip, little Pot?\" asked the mother.\n\n\"I skip to the house of the rich man at the top of the hill,\" said the\npot.\n\nAnd the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs\nand then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the\nhouse of the rich man at the top of the hill, and it skipped right into\nthe kitchen of the rich man's house where his wife was making a pudding.\nAll at once she looked up and saw the little iron pot on the table,\nwhere it had skipped in at the window, and right in front of her, and\nshe said:\n\n\"Oh, where did you come from, little Pot? You are just what I want to\nput my pudding in.\"\n\nSo she put the pudding into the little iron pot, and as soon as the\npudding was in and safely covered up, the little pot began to skip,\nskip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity skip,\nskippity skip, down the hill, and though the farmer's wife ran after,\nshe could not catch it, and away it went straight to the little brown\nhouse at the bottom of the hill.\n\nSo the little boy and his mother had pudding to eat for dinner.\n\nThe next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire, and as\nsoon as the water began to bubble and to boil, it called, \"I skip! I\nskip!\"\n\n\"How far do you skip, little Pot?\" asked the mother.\n\n\"I skip to the barn of the rich man at the top of the hill,\" said the\nlittle pot.\n\nAnd the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs\nand then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the\nbarn of the rich man at the top of the hill. And in the barn the\nthrashers were thrashing the wheat, and the little pot skipped right out\non the thrashing floor.\n\n\"Oh,\" said one of the men, \"Where did you come from, little Pot? You are\njust the thing to hold some of this wheat.\"\n\nSo the man began pouring the wheat into the pot, and poured and poured\nuntil the little pot seemed quite full, but still there was room, so\nthe man poured until all the wheat was in the pot.\n\nThen the little pot began to skip, skip, first on one of its three legs\nand then on another, skippity skip, skippity skip, out of the barn and\nout on the road. And though all of the men ran after it they could not\ncatch it, and it skipped down the hill to the little brown house.\n\nSo the little boy and his mother had plenty of white bread to eat.\n\nThe next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire, and as\nsoon as the water began to bubble and to boil it began to skip, skip,\nskippity skip, skippity skip, until it came to the bank of the rich man,\nand it skipped right into the window where the rich man sat with all his\nmoney spread out on his desk. And as he counted he looked up and saw the\nlittle iron pot standing in front of him, and he said, \"Where did you\ncome from, little Pot? You are just the thing for me to put my money\ninto.\"\n\nThen he began to pile his money into the iron pot, and though it was\nsoon full there was yet more room, and he piled more and more, until at\nlast all his money was in the iron pot. Then the little pot began to\nskip, skip, skippity skip, skippity skip, right out of the bank and down\nthe street and straight on till it came to the little brown house at the\nbottom of the hill. And though the rich man ran after it he could not\ncatch it, and so all the money that he had taken from the little boy and\nhis mother was carried back to them in the little iron pot.\n\nThe next morning the little pot begged to be put on the fire again, and\nthe mother said: \"Why should you be put on the fire, little Pot? Have we\nnot everything that we want?\" But the little pot still wanted to be put\non the fire; and at last, when the mother had put in the water and made\nthe fire, and the water began to bubble and to boil, the little pot\nsaid: \"I skip! I skip!\"\n\nAnd the mother said: \"How far do you skip, little Pot?\"\n\n\"I skip to the end of the world,\" said the little pot. And it began to\nskip, skip, first on one of its three legs and then on another, skippity\nskip, skippity skip, until it came to the top of the hill, and there was\nthe rich man hunting for his money. And when he saw the little iron pot\nhe cried out: \"There is the pot that stole my money!\" And he caught up\nwith the pot and put his hand into it to take out his money, but his\nhand could not find the money; so he put his head in to look for it, and\nhe could not see it; next he climbed into the pot, and then it began to\nskip, skip, far away up the hill and up the mountain, and away to the\nend of the world.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SHEEP AND PIG WHO SET UP HOUSEKEEPING\n\n\nOnce upon a time a Sheep stood in a pen to be fattened for the winter's\nfeast. He lived well, for he was given the best of everything, and he\nsoon became so fat that one day the maid who came to bring his food\nsaid: \"Eat full to-day, little Sheep, for to-morrow will come the\nkilling and we shall eat you.\" And she shut the gate and went away.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Sheep, \"I have heard that, Women's words are worth\nheeding, and that, There is a cure and a physic for everything except\ndeath. There being no cure for that, it is best to find a way out of\nit.\"\n\nSo he ate up all the food that the maid had left for him, and then he\nbutted hard against the gate of the pen, and it flew open, and the Sheep\nwent out of the pen and out on the big road.\n\nHe followed the road to a neighboring farm, and made his way to a pigsty\nwhere was fastened a Pig that he had known on the common.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting!\" said the Sheep. \"Do\nyou know why you are fed so well while you stay in this sty?\"\n\n\"No, that I do not,\" said the Pig. \"But I am very glad to get the good\nfood and plenty of it, which they have been bringing to me since I was\nshut up.\"\n\n\"Ho, there is reason for that,\" said the Sheep. \"Many a flask empties\nthe cask. They want to make you very fat, for their purpose is to eat\nyou at the winter's feasting.\"\n\n\"May they not forget to say grace after meat,\" said the Pig. \"I can do\nnaught to hinder their eating.\"\n\n\"If you will do as I do we will go off together into the woods and build\na house and set up housekeeping,\" said the Sheep. \"A home is a home, be\nit ever so homely.\"\n\nSo the Sheep and the Pig together butted down the pigsty, and started\noff on the big road together. \"Good company is good comfort,\" said the\nPig, as they trotted along.\n\nAs they entered the big woods they met a Goose, who had come out on the\ncommon.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting,\" said the Goose,\n\"where are you going so fast?\"\n\n\"You must know that we were too well off at home, and so we have set\noff into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping,\" said the\nSheep, \"for, Every man's house is his castle, if he build it but big and\nstrong enough.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said the Goose, \"all places are alike to me, but I should\nlike to build a house; so if you like I will go with you, for, It's but\nchild's play when three share the day.\"\n\n\"With gossip and gabble is built neither house nor stable!\" said the\nPig. \"What can you do to help build the house?\"\n\n\"By cunning and skill a cripple can do what he will,\" said the Goose. \"I\ncan gather moss to put into the crevices and cracks, and so make the\nhouse warm and comfortable.\"\n\nNow, Piggy wanted above everything else to be warm and comfortable, so\nhe said that the Goose might come along.\n\nAs the three journeyed on they met a Hare.\n\n\"Good day, and thanks for our last merry meeting,\" said the Hare; \"where\nare you hurrying to so fast?\"\n\nThen the Sheep explained how they were too well off at home, and were\ngoing into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping, \"For,\" he\nsaid, \"You may travel the world around, but there is no place like\nhome.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Hare, \"for the matter of that, I have a home in every\nbush. But I have always thought that some day I would build a house, and\nI will go with you if you like.\"\n\n\"We could use you to scare away the dogs,\" said the Pig, \"but you would\nbe no good for anything else.\"\n\n\"He who lives long enough will always find work to do,\" said the Hare.\n\"I have sharp teeth to gnaw the boards, and paws to hammer them fast. I\ncan set up at any time for a carpenter, for, Good tools make good work,\nas the man said.\"\n\nSo he got leave to go, and there was no more said about it.\n\nAs they went deeper into the woods they met a Cock, who gave them\ngreeting and asked where they were going.\n\nThen the Sheep explained how they were too well off at home, and were\ngoing into the woods to build a house and set up housekeeping, \"For,\"\nsaid the Sheep, \"He who out of doors shall bake, loses at last both coal\nand cake.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the Cock, \"that is just my case, for, It's far better to\nsit on one's own perch, for then one can never be left in the lurch;\nbesides, All cocks crow loudest at home. If I may have your leave, I\nwill come with you.\"\n\nBut the Pig protested. \"Flapping and crowing sets tongues a-going!\" he\nexclaimed, \"but, A jaw on a stick never yet laid a brick. How can you\nhelp us or make yourself useful?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Cock, \"That house will never have a clock where there is\nneither dog nor cock. I will wake you up every morning, and will cry the\nalarm when the dawn arises.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said the Pig, who was very like to oversleep. \"Sleep is a\ngreedy thief, and thinks nothing of robbing you of half your life. You\nmay come with us.\"\n\nSo they all set off together into the woods, and at last they came to a\ngood place and built the house. The Pig hewed the timber, and the Sheep\ndrew it home; the Hare was the carpenter, and the Goose gathered moss\nand filled all of the cracks and crevices, and the Cock wakened them\nevery morning early.\n\nAt last the house was done, and it was snug, and warm, and comfortable.\n\"'Tis good to travel east and west, but, after all, a home is best,\"\nsaid the Sheep.\n\nAnd they lived together until cold weather came, when they put up a\nstove to keep warm, and they planned to enjoy the long winter.\n\nNow, not far off from the house lived the Wolf and his family, and his\nbrother and his brother's family.\n\nAnd the Wolf and his brother saw the house which the Sheep and the Pig\nand the Goose and the Hare and the Cock had builded, and they talked\ntogether of how warm and comfortable it was, and the Wolf decided that\nthey must get acquainted with their new neighbors.\n\nSo he made up an errand and went to the door and said he had come to ask\nfor a light to his pipe; and while the door was held open he pushed\nhimself inside.\n\nThen all at once he found himself in a great confusion, for the Sheep\nbutted him so hard that he fell against the stove; and the Pig gored and\nbit him; and the Goose nipped and pecked him; and the Hare ran about\nover the house, now on the floor and now aloft, so that the Wolf did not\nknow who or what he was, and was scared out of his wits, and all the\ntime the Cock perched on a top beam and flapped his wings and crowed and\ncrowed.\n\nBy-and-by the Wolf managed to get near the door and to dash through it.\n\n\"Neighborhood makes for brotherhood,\" said the Wolf's brother. \"You must\nhave made good friends, since you remained so long. But what became of\nyour errand, for you have neither pipe nor smoke?\"\n\n\"Nice life makes pleasant company,\" said the Wolf. \"Such manners I never\nsaw. For no sooner was I inside than the shoemaker flew at me with his\nlast, and two smiths blew bellows and made the sparks fly, and beat\nand punched me with red-hot pincers, and tore great pieces out of my\nbody, the hunter kept running about trying to find his gun, and it is\nwell for me that he did not, for I should never have come out alive; and\nall the while a butcher sat up on a beam and flapped his arms and sang\nout to the others: 'Put a hook into him! Put a hook into him and drag\nhim thither!' so it was all I could do to get out alive!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said his brother, \"we can't choose in this wicked world, and an\nunbidden guest sometimes gets bad treatment. But I think that we will be\nvery well advised to let these new neighbors alone.\"\n\nSo the Wolf, and the Wolf's family, and the Wolf's brother and his\nbrother's family, let the Sheep and the Pig and the Goose and the Hare\nand the Cock alone, and they lived very happily in their house in the\nwoods.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: MOTHER READS A FAIRY TALE]\n\n\n\n\nDOLL-IN-THE-GRASS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had twelve sons. These sons did\nnot like to do useful things--they only liked to ride and to hunt in the\nwoods, and to do what pleased them.\n\nOne day the King said: \"You shall each one go forth into the world to\nseek a bride. But you must choose a bride who can do useful things--and,\nto prove it, she must be able to gather the flax and spin and weave a\nshirt all in one day. If she cannot do this, I will not accept her as my\ndaughter-in-law.\"\n\nSo the sons set out on their errands, each riding a beautiful horse, and\nlooking forward to having a great time out in the world while he hunted\nfor his bride.\n\nBut the youngest son, Boots, was not popular with the others. So they\nsaid:\n\n\"Boots shall not go with us. We will not have him along--he will not do\nthe things that we want to do.\"\n\nSo Boots drew rein on his horse, and the others rode out of sight.\n\nNow, Boots was very unhappy when he was left alone in the woods, and he\ngot off his horse and sat down on a log to think. For he did not know\nwhere to go to have the good times that his brothers had been talking\nabout, and he did not know where to seek a bride.\n\nAs he sat thinking, he heard a strange sound near him--a sound like\nsilver bells tinkling softly; or was it fairies laughing? Boots looked\nall about him, but could see nothing.\n\n\"Here I am!\" exclaimed a sweet little voice. And Boots looked down at\nthe grass at his feet, and there was the tiniest little creature smiling\nup at him, swaying with the stem of a flower which waved in the slight\nbreeze.\n\n\"Why are you so sad?\" asked this tiny maiden.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Boots, \"my father has sent me and my brothers forth into the\nworld to find brides, and my brothers have gone on and left me all alone\nin the woods.\"\n\nThe little creature laughed right merrily.\n\n\"And suppose they have!\" she cried. \"The wood is the most beautiful\nplace in the world! And as for brides--you can find them there if you\nbut seek for them.\"\n\nBy this time Boots was down in the soft grass beside her.\n\n\"But my bride must be able to gather the flax, and spin and weave a\nshirt, all in one day.\"\n\n\"Pauf!\" exclaimed the little creature, \"that is no great task.\"\n\nThen she tapped a tiny wand twice on the flower stem, and a\nspinning-wheel stood before her--such a tiny little spinning wheel! She\nlifted the wand again, and the flax stem bent down, so that she gathered\nits flower, and in a minute the spinning-wheel was twirling merrily. A\ntouch of the wand, and the loom was before her; then the thread was spun\ninto white cloth as fine as cobweb. Boots watched, fascinated. The\nlittle creature next fashioned the cloth into a shirt--such a tiny\nshirt--and never was one so fine seen in all the world before.\n\n\"You shall come with me to the palace--you shall be my bride!\" exclaimed\nBoots.\n\nThe little creature smiled at him, and said: \"I will go with you to the\npalace, and I will be your bride, but I must go in my own way.\"\n\n\"You shall go in any way that you will!\" said Boots.\n\nSo Doll-in-the-Grass touched the stem of the flower again, and her own\nsilver carriage came to her, drawn by two tiny white mice. And Boots\nrode beside her, careful that his great horse should not crush the\nlittle carriage.\n\nThe little mice traveled very fast, and it was not long before they\ncame to a stream. Now, the great horse could swim the stream without\ndifficulty; but when the mice plunged into it little Doll-in-the-Grass\nand the silver carriage and all went under the water. Then Boots was\ndisconsolate, but as he stood, mourning, a beautiful maiden came up out\nof the water, a maiden fairer than any in all the kingdom, and neither\nsmaller nor larger than any of them. And she smiled at Boots and said:\n\"You see how love can do great things.\"\n\nAnd Boots caught her up on his horse before him and exclaimed: \"Ah, love\ncan indeed do great things.\"\n\nAnd so they rode home together. And of all the wives whom his brothers\nwon, none was so beautiful as Doll-in-the-Grass. And of all the shirts\nthat the wives spun, none was so fine or so soft as the one which\nDoll-in-the-Grass gave to her father-in-law; and it had become a big\nshirt--large enough for a man to wear--and was as soft as silk and as\nfine as any cobweb could possibly be.\n\nAnd the King loved her more than any of his other daughters-in-law, and\nBoots more than any of his other sons; so he said they should live with\nhim in his palace, and by-and-by succeed him on the throne.\n\n\n\n\nBOOTS AND HIS BROTHERS\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a King who had seven sons. One day he said to\nthe six older ones: \"You must go forth into the world, each one, and\nseek a bride. But Boots is too young to go, so he shall stay at home.\nAnd when you have found brides for yourselves, each one, you shall seek\nthe fairest Princess in all the seven kingdoms, and bring her home with\nyou, and she shall be a bride for Boots.\"\n\nSo the six sons set out, and each found a bride, all so lovely that it\nwas not possible to say which was the most beautiful. But the brothers\nwere so interested, each one, in his own bride, that all forgot they\nwere to seek a bride for Boots, and they started home again.\n\nOne night on the way they were forced by a storm to seek shelter in the\ncastle of a Giant, and the next morning while they were standing in the\nfront of the castle, with their retainers about them and their horses\nsaddled ready to mount and depart, the Giant suddenly turned them all\ninto stone where they stood--the brothers into large stone pillars, the\nbrides into smaller pillars, the retainers into small stones, and the\nhorses into stone horses. And there all stood in front of the castle,\nand the Giant went away laughing.\n\nAfter a long time of waiting at home, one day the King said to his\nyoungest son: \"It must be that your brothers are dead. My heart is\nbroken, and had I not you, my son, to console me in my old age, I should\ndie of sorrow.\"\n\n\"But, my father,\" said Boots, \"for long I have been thinking that I must\ngo forth into the world and find my brothers.\"\n\n\"Do not say that,\" said the King, \"for evil has certainly befallen them,\nand the same evil may befall you, and I shall be left alone.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Boots, \"whatever evil has befallen them I must fare forth\nand find out; and I will come back to you and bring my brothers with me,\nthat will I.\"\n\nSo at last the King yielded, and Boots set out. But there were no\nretainers to go with him, and his father had only an old, broken-down\nhorse to give him, for the other brothers had taken all the fine horses\nfrom the stables, for their own riding, and to bring back their brides\nupon. But Boots set forth right merrily on the old horse, often stopping\nto let him rest, for he could not go fast, as could a younger steed.\n\nAs they journeyed through the woods a Raven fell almost at the horse's\nfeet, and Boots pulled him back quickly, that the bird might not be\nstamped upon.\n\n\"I thank you, good master,\" said the Raven. \"I am so hungry that I was\nfaint, and fell from the tree. Will you give me something to eat, and I\nwill serve you faithfully?\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Boots, \"I see not how you can serve me, and I have\nbut scant food. But if you are so hungry that you fell from a tree, you\nmust need food badly, so I will give you a share of my own.\"\n\nSo Boots gave the Raven some food, and went on through the forest. At\nlast he came to a stream, and saw a Salmon swimming feebly about near\nthe shore. \"Oh,\" cried the Salmon, as Boots stopped to give his horse a\ndrink, \"will you give me food? I am so hungry that I can scarce swim\nabout in the stream.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Boots, \"everybody seems to be hungry to-day, and for the\nmatter of that, so am I. And how can you serve me, I would like to know?\nNevertheless, since you are so hungry I will give you food, for it is\nnot pleasant to be hungry, as I well know.\"\n\nSo he gave the Salmon some of his food, and went on through the forest.\n\nBy-and-by he came to a Wolf, looking so gaunt and lean that he was\nalmost afraid to pass by where the animal stood. But the Wolf stopped\nhim and said: \"Will you give me something to eat? I am so hungry that I\ncan scarce follow a trail.\"\n\n\"Well, now,\" said Boots, \"this is getting a little thick. First a Raven,\nand then a Salmon, and now a Wolf.\"\n\n\"That is so,\" said the Wolf, \"but there is little food in the forest.\nNevertheless, with but a morsel I could follow the trail, and find\nplenty, and I would serve you at any time that I could.\"\n\n\"Now have I many servants,\" laughed Boots--\"a Raven, and a Salmon, and a\nWolf. I will give you food, however, for you look as if you needed it\nsorely!\"\n\nSo he gave the Wolf food, and when he had eaten, the Wolf said: \"Do you\nfollow the trail which I make, and I will lead you where you would go.\"\n\nBoots laughed merrily, for since he did not know which way to go\nhimself it hardly seemed as if the Wolf could lead him in that way.\nNevertheless, since all ways were alike, he thought, he might as well\nfollow the Wolf, so he turned his horse's head in that direction.\n\nThe Wolf trotted along before, and at last he turned and said: \"This is\nthe Giant's castle, and the pillars yonder are your brothers and their\nwives which the Giant has turned to stone. It is for you to go into the\ncastle and find a way to set them free.\"\n\n\"That will I,\" said Boots, \"but how will I prevent the Giant's making a\nstone pillar out of me?\"\n\n\"Climb up on my back,\" said the Wolf, \"and I will take you into the\ncastle, but once there you must look out for yourself. But if you need\nme, whistle, and I will be beside you.\"\n\n\"That will I,\" said Boots, \"and you, mind that you are not far, for I\nthink I shall need you right speedily.\"\n\nSo the Wolf trotted out and left Boots standing in the hall of the\ncastle. And Boots turned about and looked toward the inner room, and\nthere he saw a Princess which he knew at once was the fairest Princess\nin all the seven kingdoms; and he said to himself: \"When I have set my\nbrothers free I shall not need to seek far for my own bride.\"\n\nThe Princess greeted him, and told him that it was true that the Giant\nhad turned his brothers, and their brides, and their retainers into\nstone, and that he would turn them back again, one by one, when he\nwanted to eat them.\n\n\"And what will he do with me?\" exclaimed Boots.\n\n\"Do you hide under the bed there,\" said the Princess, \"and I will take\ncare of you. For you must know that no matter how brave and strong you\nmay be you cannot kill this Giant, for he does not keep his heart in his\nbody. It is hidden away somewhere, for he is afraid that some one will\nkill him, so he keeps it no one knows where. But to-night I will ask him\nwhere it is, and do you listen, and it may be that we can find it and\nkill him, and you can set your brothers and their brides and me free.\"\n\n\"That will I,\" said Boots, looking at her with eyes that told what he\nwould do when he had set them all free.\n\nSo at last the Giant came home, and after he had eaten and was feeling\nvery good-natured, the Princess said to him: \"I have always wondered\nwhere it is that you keep your heart, for it is evident that it is not\nin your body.\"\n\n\"Indeed, and it is not,\" said the Giant, \"for if it were I should have\nbeen dead long ago. But I will tell you where it is--it is under the\ngreat doorstep at the entrance of the castle.\"\n\nThe next morning, after the Giant had gone out, Boots and the Princess\ndug and tugged, and tugged and dug, until at last they lifted the great\ndoorstep at the entrance of the castle. But there was no heart under it.\nThen the Princess piled flowers about, that it might not show where she\nhad been digging, and when the Giant came back he laughed loudly, and\nsaid: \"What sort of nonsense is this? You thought my heart was there,\nyou silly, and have piled flowers about it. But my heart is not there.\nIt is in the back of the big cupboard in the deepest dungeon keep.\"\n\nThe next day after the Giant had gone Boots and the Princess went down\nto the deepest dungeon keep, and they dug and tugged, and tugged and\ndug, until at last they had moved the cupboard from the wall; but there\nwas no heart there. So the Princess piled flowers about, as she had done\nbefore. That night when the Giant came home he went down into the\ndungeon and saw the flowers, and said: \"You did, indeed, wish to pay\nhonor to my heart, you foolish child, but it is not there.\"\n\nThen tears stood in the beautiful eyes of the Princess, and she said:\n\"Oh, then, tell me where it is, that I may place flowers about the\nplace.\"\n\n\"That is not possible,\" said the Giant, \"for it is too far away from\nhere, and you could not get to it. On a great hill in the forest stands\na church, and in the church is a well, and in the well there is a duck,\nswimming backward and forward on the water; and in the duck is an egg,\nand in the egg is my heart; so you had best give up your foolish\nnotion.\"\n\nBoots, under the bed, heard every word; and the next morning, after the\nGiant had set out, he, too, started, whistling to the Wolf, who came at\nonce. Boots told him that he wished to go to the church that stood on\nthe high hill in the forest; and the Wolf said: \"I know just where the\nplace is. Jump on my back, and we will be there in no time.\"\n\nSo Boots jumped upon the Wolf's back, and they set off through the\nforest, and soon came to the church on the high hill. But the great\ndoors were locked, and it was not possible for Boots to break them down,\nthough he tried hard enough.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Wolf, \"we must call the Raven.\"\n\nSo they called the Raven, and he came and flew up over the top of the\nchurch, and into the belfry, and down into the porter's room, and caught\nup the keys of the church, and in a moment he was back with them. Then\nBoots opened the doors and he and the Wolf and the Raven entered; and in\nthe church they found a well, as the Giant had said, and on the water in\nthe well there was a duck swimming backward and forward. Then Boots\ncaught up the duck in his hands, and thought that now he had the Giant's\nheart, when suddenly the duck let the egg drop into the water.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Wolf, \"we must call the Salmon.\"\n\nSo they called the Salmon, and he swam down into the water and brought\nup the egg in his mouth, and Boots caught up the egg in his hand and\nsqueezed it hard, and at once the Giant far off in the forest cried out.\n\n\"Squeeze it harder,\" cried the Salmon, \"and I shall be free.\"\n\nBut the Giant far off in the woods begged hard for his life, and the\nWolf said: \"Tell him that if he would have you spare his life he must at\nonce set free your brothers and their brides and their retainers,\" said\nthe Wolf.\n\nSo Boots cried aloud this message to the Giant, squeezing the heart\nwhich he held in his hand as he did so; and the Giant called to him from\nfar off in the forest that he had already done this, even as Boots had\nasked him, and now would he please let his heart sink back into the\nwater.\n\n\"No,\" said the Raven, \"squeeze it but a little harder, and I shall be\nfree!\"\n\nSo Boots squeezed the heart harder and harder, until at last it was\nsqueezed quite in two, and what was his surprise to see standing beside\nhim two young Princes, fair, almost, as the fair Princess in the Giant's\ncastle, who Boots knew was the most beautiful in all the seven kingdoms.\n\n\"Let us hasten back to the castle, now,\" said the Wolf, \"that we may\ntell the Princes and their brides and the Princess in the castle that\nthe Giant is dead, and they have nothing more to fear.\"\n\nThen the Wolf lifted up his voice and howled, and at once two other\nwolves stood beside them. \"Climb up, each one of you,\" said the first\nWolf, \"and we will be back at the castle in no time.\"\n\nSo Boots and the two Princes climbed up each on the back of a wolf, and\nthey were soon back at the castle; and Boots found his brothers, and\ntheir fair brides, and the Princess waiting for them. Then they all set\nout for the kingdom of their father, who was very glad to see them, to\nbe sure. And Boots said: \"I have brought back your sons to you, but I\nhave brought back the fairest Princess in the seven kingdoms to be my\nown bride.\"\n\nAlthough the brides of the other Princes were very fair, yet all agreed\nthat the bride of Boots was the most beautiful of all.\n\n\n\n\nVIGGO AND BEATE[L]\n\n_Translated by Mrs. Gudrun Thorne-Thompson_\n\nTHE DOLL UNDER THE BRIER ROSEBUSH\n\n\nThere was once a girl, and her name was Beate. On her birthday her\nfather had given her a beautiful straw hat. Her mother had given her a\npair of yellow shoes and the daintiest white dress. But her old aunt had\ngiven her the very best present of all; it was a doll, with a sweet face\nand dark brown curls.\n\nOh, how Beate grew to love that doll, almost more than she loved Marie\nand Louise, and they were her best friends.\n\nOne day Beate was walking in the yard with her doll in her arms. It had\na name now, and they had become fast friends. She had called her Beate,\nher own name, and the name of her old aunt who had given her the\npresent.\n\nIt was in the early Spring. There was a green spot in one corner of the\nyard around the old well. There stood a big willow tree with a low\ntrunk, and it was covered with the little yellow blossoms that children\ncall \"goslings.\"\n\nThey look like goslings, too, for each little tassel has soft yellow\ndown, and they can swim in the water.\n\nNow, Big Beate and Little Beate soon agreed that they would pick\ngoslings from the tree and throw them into the well, so that these\nmight have just as good a time as the big geese and goslings that were\nswimming about in the pond. It was really Big Beate who thought of this\nfirst, but Little Beate agreed immediately; you can't imagine how good\nshe always was.\n\nNow, Big Beate climbed up into the willow and picked many pretty yellow\ngoslings into her little white apron, and when she counted them she said\nthat now they had enough, and Little Beate thought so too.\n\nBoth of them ran over to the well, and Big Beate helped her little\nfriend to get her legs firmly fixed between the logs that were around\nthe well, so that she might sit in comfort and watch the little goslings\nswim about on the water. Then gosling after gosling was dropped down,\nand as soon as each one reached the water it seemed to become alive and\nit moved about. Oh, what fun!\n\nBut after awhile the little goslings would not swim any longer, but lay\nquite still. That was no fun at all, so Big Beate asked her namesake if\nshe didn't think she might lean a little over the edge of the well and\nblow on them, for then she thought they might come to life again. Little\nBeate didn't answer, but she raised her left eye-brow, saying, \"Please\ndon't do that, dear Big Beate! Don't you remember, Mother has told us\nhow dark it is down there in the well? Think, if you should fall in!\"\n\n\"Oh, nonsense; just see how easy it is,\" said Big Beate. She leaned out\nover the wall and blew on the nearest ones. Yes, it helped--the goslings\nbegan to swim again. But those that were farthest away didn't move at\nall.\n\n\"What stupid little things!\" said Beate; and she leaned far, far out\nover the edge of the well. Then her little hands slipped on the smooth\nlog--splash! Down she fell into the water. It was so cold, so icy cold,\nand it closed over her head, and took the straw hat, which she had got\non her birthday, off her hair! She hadn't time to hear whether Little\nBeate screamed, but I'm sure she did.\n\nWhen Beate's head came up over the water again she grasped the round log\nwith both her hands, but the hands were too small, and the log too wide\nand slippery, she couldn't hold on. Then she saw her dear friend, Little\nBeate, standing stiff and dumb with fright, staring at her and with her\nright arm stretched out to her. Big Beate hurriedly caught hold of her\nand Little Beate made herself as stiff as she could, and stiffer still,\nand stood there between the logs holding her dear friend out of the\nwater.\n\nNow Beate screamed so loudly that her father and mother heard her and\ncame running as fast as they could, pale and frightened, and pulled her\nout. She was dripping wet, and so scared and cold that her teeth\nchattered.\n\nNow they put Beate to bed, and Little Beate had to sleep with her. When\nshe had said her prayers she hugged her little friend and said: \"Never,\nnever can I thank you enough, because you saved me from that horrible\ndeep well, dear Little Beate. You shall be my very best friend, always,\nand when I grow up you shall be the godmother to my first daughter, and\nI shall call her Little Beate for you.\"\n\n\nTHE FLOATING ISLAND\n\nBeate was now a year older. During that year she had lost Little Beate,\nbut she had never forgotten her.\n\nBig Beate had many dolls given to her, but not one was like Little\nBeate. No one was so sweet and good-natured, no one so pretty and\ngraceful.\n\nIt was a Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, she expected her friends,\nMarie and Louise, on a visit, for it was her birthday; therefore she\nwanted to decorate her doll-house as prettily as she could.\n\nBeate knew what to do. On the hillside by the Black Pond she remembered\nthat she had seen the prettiest little snail shells anyone might wish\nfor--round and fluted, with yellow and brown markings. They would be\njust the thing for her bureau. She ran off to search for them, slipping\nin and out through the hazel bushes, and picking empty shells by the\ndozen.\n\nBut all of a sudden she heard a bird utter such a weird cry from the\nlake. She peeped out between the green branches and saw a big bird\nswimming about. It had a long blue neck and a white breast, but its back\nwas shining black. It swam fast, and then suddenly dived and was gone.\n\nBeate stood there and stared at the water, hoping to see the bird\ncome up again, but she waited and waited in vain. She was frightened,\nthinking it was drowned, when she saw it shoot up again far away, almost\nin the middle of the lake. Then it began to swim slowly toward a tiny\ngreen island which lay there, and crept into the high weeds and grasses\nthat hung over the water.\n\nBeate could not get tired of looking at the pretty little island. Willow\nbushes grew out of the grass in some places, and in one end grew a\nlittle white-barked birch tree. Beate thought she had never seen\nanything half so lovely. It seemed just like a strange little land, all\nby itself.\n\nAt last Beate remembered that she must hurry home. Again she peeped\nthrough the leaves and branches to say good-night to the island,\nwhen--think of it!--the little green island was gone.\n\nShe thought of goblins and fairies, and ran up the path to the top of\nthe hill as fast as she could. But when she got there she had to look\nagain. And she became more astonished than ever, for now she saw the\nlittle green island again, but far from the place where she first saw\nit. It was sailing slowly toward the southern end of the lake, and the\nsilver birch was its sail.\n\nAs soon as Beate reached home she found Anne, the nurse, and told her\nwhat she had seen.\n\nAnne knew all about the floating island: it had been on the lake for\nmany years, she said. But there were many strange things about it. One\nthing she would tell, and that was, that if anyone stood on the floating\nisland and took a loon's egg out of the nest and wished for something,\nthat wish would come true, if the egg was put safely back into the nest\nagain. If you wished to become a Princess of England, your wish would\nindeed be fulfilled, said old Anne. But there was one more thing to\nnotice: you must not talk about it to a living soul.\n\n\"Not even to Father and Mother?\" asked Beate.\n\n\"No,\" said Anne, \"not to a living soul.\"\n\nBeate could think of nothing but the island all that evening, and when\nshe had closed her eyes she could dream of nothing else all night.\n\nJust as soon as Beate got up in the morning she begged her father to row\nher and Marie and Louise out to the floating island, when they came to\nvisit her in the afternoon, and that he promised.\n\nBut he also asked how she had happened to think of that, and what she\nwanted there. Beate thought first that she would tell him everything,\nbut then she remembered Anne's words, and said only that she wished to\ngo out there because the little green island was so pretty.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, it is pretty, and you shall see a loon's nest too,\" said\nthe father.\n\nThen Beate's face grew red, and the tears came to her eyes, for she knew\nwell enough about the loon's nest and about the eggs.\n\nIn the afternoon the father took the three little girls down to the\nlake. Beate's friends thought this was the loveliest place they had ever\nseen, and they begged the father to stop and get some of the pretty\nwater-lilies for them. But Beate was longing for the floating island.\n\nThe father rowed close up to the island and around it, and when he came\nto the other side the loon plunged out of the reeds into the water and\nwas gone.\n\n\"There is the loon's nest,\" said the father.\n\nWhat joy! The loon's nest was on the very edge of the little tiny\nisland, hidden among the grasses, and in the nest were two big\ngrayish-brown eggs, with black spots, larger than any goose eggs.\n\nMarie and Louise shouted and laughed, but Beate felt strangely\nfrightened and was very quiet. She begged her father to let her stand on\nthe island, only a minute, and would he let her take one of the eggs in\nher hand?\n\nThe father told her she must be very careful just lift the egg gently\nbetween her two fingers, for if the bird noticed that the egg had been\ntouched she would not hatch it.\n\nAnd now Beate stood on the green floating island. She was excited when\nshe bent down to pick up the grayish-brown egg, but lifted it carefully\nbetween two fingers. Now she might wish for anything in the wide, wide\nworld.\n\nAnd what do you think she wished for? To become a Princess of England?\nOh, no, she knew something far better than that. Then her lips moved\nsoftly, and she whispered to herself: \"I wish that Little Beate was with\nme once more, and would never, never leave me.\" Carefully she put the\negg back into the nest.\n\nWhat was the pink something her eye now caught sight of among the tall\nreeds close to the nest? It was her doll! Beate gave one shriek of joy.\n\"Little Beate, my own Little Beate,\" she sobbed, when she had her own\ndearest friend in her arms again. She covered her with tears and kisses,\nand held her tight in her arms as if she would never in the world let\nher go.\n\nHer father, Marie, and Louise stood by without saying a word. At last\nthe father kissed his little girl, and lifted her on to the raft again.\n\nSuch a birthday party as Beate had now! What did it matter that a year's\nrains and snows had faded Little Beate's cheeks and bleached her brown\ncurls? She was the guest of honor, and sat on the prettiest chair. She\nhad all the cookies and chocolate that she wanted. She was petted and\nloved; and at night, tired and happy, Big Beate slept with her little\nfriend in her arms.\n\n\nHANS, THE OLD SOLDIER\n\nViggo was Beate's brother. He was 10 years old. Hans was Viggo's dearest\nfriend. The servants on the farm called the old Grenadier \"Hans the\nWatchdog,\" for they said when he talked to anyone it sounded like a dog\nbarking, and he looked as if he were ready to bite. But Viggo had once\nsaid that the Grenadier's voice sounded like the rattle of a drum, and\nthe old soldier thought that was well said. It was from that time on\nthat Viggo and Hans were such good friends.\n\nHans the Grenadier was six feet two, and a little more. He was straight\nas a stick. His hair was long and snowy white, and it hung in a braid\ndown his red soldier's coat.\n\nWhen he came walking up to the farm from his little cottage he always\ncarried the ax on the left shoulder, like a gun, and marched stiff and\nstraight, and kept step as if the sergeant were marching right at his\nheels, commanding \"Left, right! Left, right!\"\n\nViggo knew that sometimes Old Hans was willing to tell about the time he\nserved in the army. He told of the battles, and first and last about the\n\"Prince of 'Gustenberg.\"\n\n\"That was a man!\" said Hans. \"When he looked at you it was as if he\nwould eat you in one bite. And such a nose between the eyes! The Prince\nof 'Gustenberg had a nose that shouted 'Get out of my way!' And\ntherefore they did get put of his way, too, wherever he showed himself.\n\n\"Do you know what the Prince of 'Gustenberg said when he spoke in front\nof the troops? 'One thing is a shame,' said he, 'and that is to turn\nyour back before retreat is called.' And now you know what is a shame,\nmy boy!\"\n\nViggo sat silent a little while.\n\n\"Have you never known a little boy to become a general?\" he asked at\nlast.\n\n\"No, I haven't, but I have known a drummer boy to become a sergeant. He\nwas not much bigger than you. He could do everything you can think of.\nThere was one thing, though, that was very hard for him to do, and that\nwas to beat 'Retreat.' 'Forward March' he knew how to drum; he never\nforgot that, and sometimes he beat that instead of 'Retreat,' and the\ncaptain got angry. Usually he wasn't punished either, because he had\nonce saved the captain's life with a snowball.\"\n\n\"With a snowball?\" said Viggo.\n\n\"Yes, I said snowball; he did not use greater means. We were rushing up\na hill with the enemy in front of us. It was in Winter. The captain and\nthe drummer boy led the march; but as soon as they came to the top of\nthe hill there stood the enemy in line. 'Aim!' commanded the enemy's\nofficer, and all the guns pointed right at the captain. Quick as\nlightning the drummer boy grabbed a handful of snow and made a snowball,\nand, just as the officer opened his mouth to say 'Fire!' the drummer boy\nthrew the snowball straight into the open mouth. He stood there, mouth\nwide open. Well, then the rest of us arrived and we had a hot fight.\"\n\n\"Then was he made a sergeant?\" asked Viggo.\n\n\"Yes, when the Prince had heard of it. He was given the rank of a\nsergeant, and something better even than that. The Prince called him 'my\nson.'\"\n\n\"It was too bad that they didn't make him a general,\" said Viggo. He\nadded half aloud: \"Do you think I might become a general, Hans?\"\n\n\"Well, well, listen to the spring chicken!\" said Hans. \"So it is general\nyou want to be? Never mind, don't blush for that; it wasn't a bad\nquestion. But it is very difficult, for you must learn much, oh, very\nmuch.\"\n\n\"Mathematics, you mean?\" said Viggo. \"I have learned some of that\nalready, and languages too.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is well enough, but you must learn much more; you must learn\nto drill so that you don't make a mistake in a single movement.\"\n\n\"Then do you think I might become a general?\" continued Viggo.\n\n\"Who knows? But it is difficult. The eyes are not bad, you have the\nright expression. But the nose--no it has not the correct shape. But, of\ncourse, it may grow and curve in time,\" said Old Hans.\n\nAfter that Viggo learned to drill and march from his old friend; but he\noften looked in the mirror and wished with all his heart that the nose\nwould curve a little more.\n\n\nALLARM, THE DOG\n\nOne afternoon Viggo was walking home from school with a bag of books on\nhis back. He marched straight as a stick, with a soldiery step. Old Hans\nwas standing outside the cottage waiting for him, and when Viggo halted\nand saluted, the old man asked if he could guess what present there was\nfor him at the house.\n\n\"How does it look?\" asked Viggo.\n\n\"It is brown,\" said Hans. \"Now guess.\"\n\n\"Oh, I suppose it is nothing but a lump of brown sugar from Aunt Beate,\"\nsaid Viggo.\n\n\"Try again!\" said Hans, and grinned. \"It is dark brown, it walks on four\nfeet and laps milk.\"\n\n\"Is it the puppy the Captain has promised me? Is it?\" cried Viggo, and\nforgot all about standing straight and stiff before the Grenadier.\n\n\"Right about! Of course that's what it is,\" said Hans the Grenadier.\n\nBut Viggo turned a somersault instead of \"Right about\" and ran to the\nhouse. On a piece of carpet close by the fireplace lay the little puppy,\nand he was beautiful. The body was dark brown, but the nose and paws\nwere light brown, and he had a light brown spot over each eye. When\nViggo sat down on the floor beside him and stroked the soft fur, he\nlicked Viggo's hand. Soon they had become acquainted, and from that time\non Viggo watched, to see if the puppy grew, almost as carefully as he\nwatched his own nose to see if it had the proper curve so that he might\nbecome a general.\n\nIn the night, Allarm lay by Viggo's bed, and in the daytime sat beside\nhim when he was studying his lessons. The puppy was not allowed to go\nalong to school, but he met Viggo every afternoon, and barked with joy\nand wagged his tail.\n\nOne winter morning Hans the Grenadier and some of the farm hands were\ngoing to the woods to haul timber with seven horses. Viggo had a holiday\nthat day, so he was allowed to go along. He put his rubber boots on, and\nwhistled for Allarm. The puppy jumped and barked when he noticed that\nthey were off for the woods. But Viggo's father said it would be best to\nleave Allarm at home, for there were packs of wolves in the woods. Viggo\ndid not like to leave Allarm behind, but when his father said so of\ncourse he must do it. He took the strap and tied Allarm to the leg of\nthe sofa. Then he put his old coat on the floor beside the dog, so that\nhe might be comfortable. But you can't imagine how Allarm whined and\nhowled when he understood that he was to be left tied up.\n\nViggo told his father that he could not stand it to have Allarm so sad,\nhappen what would, and he begged that he might take him along.\n\nThe father smiled, and said if Viggo wanted to risk it he must take good\ncare of the dog, and not let him out of his sight. Then they untied him,\nand you may imagine Allarm's joy. He jumped and barked so that the\nmother had to put her fingers in her ears.\n\nThe seven horses went in a line, one after the other, and Hans the\nGrenadier and Viggo and Allarm walked behind the last one. The forest\nwas so still you could not hear the least sound except the horses' hoofs\ncrunching in the snow. Here and there Viggo saw the foot-prints of a\nwolf beside the road. Then he always told Allarm to keep close by him,\nand that he did.\n\nBut after awhile they left the road and turned into the thick forest.\nHans the Grenadier waded in front, and the snow reached to his knees;\nthen came the horses and the boys, one after the other, and at last\nViggo.\n\nAfter a while they came to the logs and began to hitch them to the\nhorses. Then suddenly Viggo remembered Allarm; he had forgotten all\nabout the dog since they turned away from the road. He looked around\nhim, and just then he heard Allarm whine and howl somewhere in the\ndepths of the forest.\n\nAs quick as lightning he grabbed an ax which Old Hans had driven into a\nstump, and rushed in through the trees in the direction from which the\nhowling came. It was not easy; the snow reached far above his knees, but\nhe noticed nothing: he only feared he would be too late. Once he had to\nstop a little to draw breath, then again he heard the pitiful wail of\nthe dog, but now it sounded fainter. Off Viggo rushed again, and at last\nhe espied something between the trees. He did not see his dog, but three\nwolves stood in a circle, heads turned toward the center; the fourth one\nlay inside the ring and bit something in the snow.\n\nViggo shouted so that it thundered in the forest, and rushed against the\nwolves with lifted ax. When he came within seven or eight feet of them,\nthe three grey-legs took fright and sneaked, tails between legs, far\ninto the forest; but the fourth, who lay on top of Allarm, hated to give\nup his prey. It was a large yellow wolf, and it looked up at Viggo and\nshowed sharp, bloody teeth.\n\n\"Let go of Allarm! Let go of my dog, or I'll teach you!\" he cried, and\nswung the ax high above his head. Then grey-legs sneaked slowly away\nafter the others. He turned once and howled, and showed his teeth, and\nthen disappeared among the bushes.\n\nFar down in a hole in the snow lay Allarm. He was so bitten that he\ncould not jump to his feet; and, when Viggo lifted him, the blood\ndripped down on the snow. His whole body shivered, but he licked Viggo's\nhand.\n\nJust then Old Hans the Grenadier stood by Viggo's side. When he had\ngained his breath after his hurried run, the old man cried very angrily:\n\"If I did what you deserve I should have to whip you. Do you think it\nfit for a youngster like you to rush against a pack of wolves? If they\nhad eaten you up alive before you had a chance to make a sound, what\nwould you have said then?\"\n\n\"Then I would have said: 'One thing is a shame, and that is to turn your\nback before \"retreat\" is called,'\" said Viggo, and looked sharply at the\nGrenadier.\n\n\"Well said, my boy! The nose has not quite the right curve yet, but the\neyes are there, and I do believe the heart, too,\" said Old Hans. He took\nthe dog from Viggo, and went home with both of them.\n\n\nTHE BLACK POND\n\n\"Hurrah, the Black Pond is frozen! The ice is more than an inch thick,\nand there's a crowd of boys down there!\" shouted one of Viggo's\nclassmates one morning, as he thrust his frost-covered head through the\ndoor and swung his skates. It didn't take Viggo long before he got his\nskates down from the nail, and ran off with his friend. And he was so\nanxious to get down to the lake that he forgot to whistle for Allarm.\n\nBut Allarm had a fine nose. Just as soon as he had swallowed his\nbreakfast he understood that Viggo was gone. Then he ran out hunting\nthrough the yard for Viggo's trail, and when he noticed that it didn't\nlead to the school he knew he might follow. Then he rushed madly after\nhim over the fields, and had caught up with him long before Viggo had\nreached the cottage of Hans the Grenadier, which lay close by the lake.\n\nOne thing Viggo had promised his father before he got permission to go,\nand that was that he would be very careful and not skate far out from\nthe shore. Near the middle of the lake there was an air hole through\nwhich warm air rose to the surface, and there the ice was never thick.\n\nAnd Viggo meant honestly to do what his father had told him, but now you\nshall hear what happened.\n\nWhen he came to the lake there was a crowd of boys there. There must\nhave been twenty or more. Most of them had skates on, but some only slid\non the ice. They shouted and laughed so that you could not hear yourself\nthink.\n\nAs soon as Viggo had put on his skates he began to look around. Most of\nthe boys he knew, for he had raced with them before, and he felt that\nhe could beat every one of them. But there was one boy who skated by\nhimself, and seemed not to care about the others. He was much bigger\nthan Viggo, and Viggo saw immediately that it would not be easy to beat\nhim in a race. The boys called him Peter Lightfoot, and the name fitted\nhim. He could do the corkscrew, skate backward as easily as forward, and\nlie so low and near the ice that he might have kissed it. But all this\nViggo could do, too.\n\n\"Can you write your initials?\" asked Viggo. Yes; Peter Lightfoot stood\non one leg and wrote \"P. L.\" in the ice, but the letters hung together.\nThen Viggo started. He ran, turned himself around backward and wrote \"P.\nL.,\" and between the \"P.\" and the \"L.\" he made a short jump so that the\nletters stood apart.\n\n\"Hurrah for Viggo! He wrote Peter Lightfoot backward!\" shouted the boys,\nand threw up their caps. Then the big boy blushed crimson, but he said\nnothing.\n\nNow they began to play \"Fox and Geese,\" and everybody wanted Viggo to be\nthe fox. Peter wanted to play, too, for he was sure that Viggo could not\ncatch him. The race-course was scratched in the ice, and Viggo called,\n\"Out, out, my geese,\" and off they ran. But Viggo didn't care to run\nafter the little goslings, it was the big gander, Peter Lightfoot, he\nwished to catch. And that was a game!\n\nOff they went, Peter in front and Viggo after him, back and forth in\ncorners and circles, and all the other boys stopped and looked on. Every\ntime Viggo was right at his heels, Peter jumped and was far ahead of the\nfox again. At last Viggo had him cornered, but just as he would have\ncaught the goose, Peter stretched out his left leg and meant to trip\nViggo, but his skate caught in a frozen twig and--thump! there lay Peter\nLightfoot, the ice cracking all around him.\n\n\"A good thing he wasn't made of glass,\" laughed the boys and crowded\naround Peter. He got up and looked angrily around the circle of boys.\n\n\"Now stand in a row, we'll jump,\" said he, and the boys did. They piled\nhats and caps on top of each other first only three high. The whole row\njumped that, then four, then five, then six, but each time fewer got\nover and those who pushed the top cap off with their skates had to stop\nplaying and must stand aside and look on. At last there were eight hats\nand caps on top of each other, and now only Peter and Viggo were left to\njump.\n\n\"Put your cap on top!\" said Peter, and Viggo did. But all the boys\nshouted that no one could ever make that jump.\n\nNow, Peter came so fast that the air whistled about him, jumped--and\nwhiff! he was over! He touched Viggo's cap the least little bit, but it\ndid not fall off the pile.\n\n\"Hurrah for Peter! That was a masterly jump!\" shouted the boys. \"Viggo\ncan never do that, he is too small,\" said one.\n\nViggo knew this was the test, and his heart beat fast. He ran with all\nhis might. Viggo flew over like a bird, and there was at least four\ninches between his skates and the topmost cap. Then the boys crowded\naround him and shouted that Viggo was the champion. But Peter Lightfoot\nlooked at him with a sly and evil eye, and you could see he was planning\nto play a trick on him. And, indeed, that's what he did.\n\nAfter a little while Peter took an apple out of his pocket and rolled it\nover the ice toward the airhole. \"The one who dares to go for the apple\nmay keep it!\" he called. And many dared to try that, for the apple had\nnot rolled far and the ice was strong enough. Now Peter threw an apple\nfarther out, someone got that too. But at last he rolled one that\nstopped right on the edge of the open water. One boy after the other ran\nout toward it, but when the ice began to crack they slowly turned around\nagain.\n\n\"Don't do it, it is dangerous!\" shouted Viggo.\n\n\"Oh, yes, Viggo is great when things are easy, but if there is danger he\nturns pale as a ghost,\" said Peter, and laughed aloud.\n\nThis was more than Viggo could bear. He thought of what the Prince of\nAugustenburg had said before the front, and he thought he must fetch the\napple, come what might. But he forgot that \"retreat\" had been called,\nfor his father had forbidden him to go near the hole. Allarm looked at\nhim with grave eyes and wagged his tail slowly; he did not dare to\nwhine. But that did not help. Viggo ran so that the wind whistled about\nhis ears. The ice bent under his feet and cracked, but he glided on and\non, and the ice did not break. Now he was close by the apple; he bent\ndown to pick it up--crash! The ice broke, and Viggo, head first, fell\nin.\n\nIn a minute his head appeared above the hole. He swam for the ice and\nseized the edge, but a piece broke off every time he tried to climb up.\n\nAt first the boys stood there dumb with fright. Then they all called to\nhim that he must try to hold on, but no one dared to help him, and no\none thought of running for help. Peter Lightfoot had sneaked away when\nViggo fell in.\n\nThe best one of them all was Allarm. First he ran yelping around the\nhole, but when he saw Viggo appear again he snatched his wet cap between\nhis teeth and as fast as an arrow he ran toward home. When he reached\nthe cottage of Hans the Grenadier the old soldier was just standing in\nthe open doorway. The dog put Viggo's stiff frozen cap at his feet,\nwhined and cried, jumped up on the old man, held on to his coat and\ndragged him toward the ice. Hans understood right away what was the\nmatter, snatched a rope and ran toward the lake, and in no time he stood\nby the hole. He threw the rope to Viggo, who had begun to grow stiff\nfrom the icy bath, and pulled him out.\n\nViggo ran as fast as he could to the cottage of Hans, and when he\nreached the door he had an armor of shining ice over his whole body.\nWhen the Grenadier pulled off the boy's trousers they could stand by\nthemselves on the floor; they were frozen stiff.\n\nViggo, of course, had to change from top to toe, and what should he put\non? Hans went to his old chest and came back with his uniform. Viggo\nlooked rather queer; the yellow knee-trousers reached to his ankles, and\nthe red coat with yellow cuffs and lapels hung on him like a bag.\n\nBut he was wearing a real uniform! Hans looked at him.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, \"I won't say much about the fit of the clothes, but who\nknows you may wear a better looking uniform some day. The heart is of\nthe right kind, and the nose--well it is doing better.\"\n\n [L] From \"The Bird and the Star,\" translated by Mrs. Gudrun\n Thorne-Thompson; used by special arrangement with the publishers, Row,\n Peterson & Co.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: STORIES FROM IRELAND]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOUR WHITE SWANS\n\n\nIn the days of long ago there lived in the Green Isle of Erin a race of\nbrave men and fair women--the race of the Dedannans. North, south, east,\nand west did this noble people dwell, doing homage to many chiefs.\n\nBut one blue morning after a great battle the Dedannans met on a wide\nplain to choose a king. \"Let us,\" they said, \"have one king over all.\nLet us no longer have many rulers.\"\n\nForth from among the princes rose five well fitted to wield a scepter\nand to wear a crown, yet most royal stood Bove Derg and Lir. And forth\ndid the five chiefs wander, that the Dedannan folk might freely say to\nwhom they would most gladly do homage as king.\n\nNot far did they roam, for soon there arose a great cry, \"Bove Derg is\nKing! Bove Derg is King!\" And all were glad, save Lir.\n\nBut Lir was angry, and he left the plain where the Dedannan people were,\ntaking leave of none, and doing Bove Derg no reverence. For jealousy\nfilled the heart of Lir.\n\nThen were the Dedannans wroth, and a hundred swords were unsheathed and\nflashed in the sunlight on the plain. \"We go to slay Lir who doeth not\nhomage to our King and regardeth not the choice of the people.\"\n\nBut wise and generous was Bove Derg, and he bade the warriors do no hurt\nto the offended prince.\n\nFor long years did Lir live in discontent, yielding obedience to none.\nBut at length a great sorrow fell upon him, for his wife, who was dear\nunto him, died, and she had been ill but three days. Loudly did he\nlament her death, and heavy was his heart with sorrow.\n\nWhen tidings of Lir's grief reached Bove Derg, he was surrounded by his\nmightiest chiefs. \"Go forth,\" he said, \"in fifty chariots go forth. Tell\nLir I am his friend as ever, and ask that he come with you hither. Three\nfair foster-children are mine, and one may he yet have to wife, will he\nbut bow to the will of the people, who have chosen me their King.\"\n\nWhen these words were told to Lir, his heart was glad. Speedily he\ncalled around him his train, and in fifty chariots set forth. Nor did\nthey slacken speed until they reached the palace of Bove Derg by the\nGreat Lake. And there at the still close of day, as the setting rays of\nthe sun fell athwart the silver waters, did Lir do homage to Bove Derg.\nAnd Bove Derg kissed Lir and vowed to be his friend forever.\n\nAnd when it was known throughout the Dedannan host that peace reigned\nbetween these mighty chiefs, brave men and fair women and little\nchildren rejoiced, and nowhere were there happier hearts than in the\nGreen Isle of Erin.\n\nTime passed, and Lir still dwelt with Bove Derg in his palace by the\nGreat Lake. One morning the King said: \"Full well thou knowest my three\nfair foster-daughters, nor have I forgotten my promise that one thou\nshouldst have to wife. Choose her whom thou wilt.\"\n\nThen Lir answered: \"All are indeed fair, and choice is hard. But give\nunto me the eldest, if it be that she be willing to wed.\"\n\nAnd Eve, the eldest of the fair maidens, was glad, and that day was she\nmarried to Lir, and after two weeks she left the palace by the Great\nLake and drove with her husband to her new home.\n\nHappily dwelt Lir's household and merrily sped the months. Then were\nborn unto Lir twin babes. The girl they called Finola, and her brother\ndid they name Aed.\n\nYet another year passed and again twins were born, but before the infant\nboys knew their mother, she died. So sorely did Lir grieve for his\nbeautiful wife that he would have died of sorrow, but for the great love\nhe bore his motherless children.\n\nWhen news of Eve's death reached the palace of Bove Derg by the Great\nLake all mourned aloud, for love of Eve and sore pity for Lir and his\nfour babes. And Bove Derg said to his mighty chiefs: \"Great, indeed is\nour grief, but in this dark hour shall Lir know our friendship. Ride\nforth, make known to him that Eva, my second fair foster-child, shall in\ntime become his wedded wife and shall cherish his lone babies.\"\n\nSo messengers rode forth to carry these tidings to Lir, and in time Lir\ncame again to the palace of Bove Derg by the Great Lake, and he married\nthe beautiful Eva and took her back with him to his little daughter,\nFinola, and to her three brothers, Aed and Fiacra and Conn.\n\nFour lovely and gentle children they were, and with tenderness did Eva\ncare for the little ones who were their father's joy and the pride of\nthe Dedannans.\n\nAs for Lir, so great was the love he bore them, that at early dawn he\nwould rise, and, pulling aside the deerskin that separated his\nsleeping-room from theirs, would fondle and frolic with the children\nuntil morning broke.\n\nAnd Bove Derg loved them well-nigh as did Lir himself. Ofttimes would he\ncome to see them and ofttimes were they brought to his palace by the\nGreat Lake.\n\nAnd through all the Green Isle, where dwelt the Dedannan people, there\nalso was spread the fame of the beauty of the children of Lir.\n\nTime crept on, and Finola was a maid of twelve summers. Then did a\nwicked jealousy find root in Eva's heart, and so did it grow that it\nstrangled the love which she had borne her sister's children. In\nbitterness she cried: \"Lir careth not for me; to Finola and her brothers\nhath he given all his love.\"\n\nAnd for weeks and months Eva lay in bed planning how she might do hurt\nto the children of Lir.\n\nAt length, one midsummer morn, she ordered forth her chariot, that with\nthe four children she might come to the palace of Bove Derg.\n\nWhen Finola heard it, her fair face grew pale, for in a dream had it\nbeen revealed unto her that Eva, her stepmother, should that day do a\ndark deed among those of her own household. Therefore was Finola sore\nafraid, but only her large eyes and pale cheeks spake her woe, as she\nand her brothers drove along with Eva and her train.\n\nOn they drove, the boys laughing merrily, heedless alike of the black\nshadow resting on their stepmother's brow, and of the pale, trembling\nlips of their sister. As they reached a gloomy pass, Eva whispered to\nher attendants: \"Kill, I pray you, these children of Lir, for their\nfather careth not for me, because of his great love for them. Kill them,\nand great wealth shall be yours.\"\n\nBut the attendants answered in horror: \"We will not kill them. Fearful,\nO Eva, were the deed, and great is the evil that will befall thee, for\nhaving it in thine heart to do this thing.\"\n\nThen Eva, filled with rage, drew forth her sword to slay them with her\nown hand, but too weak for the monstrous deed, she sank back in the\nchariot.\n\nOnward they drove, out of the gloomy pass into the bright sunlight of\nthe white road. Daisies with wide-open eyes looked up into the blue sky\noverhead. Golden glistened the buttercups among the shamrock. From the\nditches peeped forget-me-not. Honeysuckle scented the hedgerows. Around,\nabove, and afar, caroled the linnet, the lark, and the thrush. All was\ncolor and sunshine, scent and song, as the children of Lir drove onward\nto their doom.\n\nNot until they reached a still lake were the horses unyoked for rest.\nThere Eva bade the children undress and go bathe in the waters. And when\nthe children of Lir reached the water's edge, Eva was there behind them,\nholding in her hand a fairy wand. And with the wand she touched the\nshoulder of each. And, lo! as she touched Finola, the maiden was changed\ninto a snow-white swan, and behold! as she touched Aed, Fiacra, and\nConn, the three brothers were as the maid. Four snow-white swans floated\non the blue lake, and to them the wicked Eva chanted a song of doom.\n\nAs she finished, the swans turned toward her, and Finola spake:\n\n\"Evil is the deed thy magic wand hath wrought, O Eva, on us the children\nof Lir, but greater evil shall befall thee, because of the hardness and\njealousy of thine heart.\" And Finola's white swan-breast heaved as she\nsang of their pitiless doom.\n\nThe song ended, again spake the swan-maiden: \"Tell us, O Eva, when death\nshall set us free.\"\n\nAnd Eva made answer: \"Three hundred years shall your home be on the\nsmooth waters of this lone lake. Three hundred years shall ye pass on\nthe stormy waters of the sea betwixt Erin and Alba, and three hundred\nyears shall ye be tempest-tossed on the wild Western Sea. Until Decca be\nthe Queen of Largnen, and the good saint come to Erin, and ye hear the\nchime of the Christ-bell, neither your plaints nor prayers, neither the\nlove of your father Lir, nor the might of your King, Bove Derg, shall\nhave power to deliver you from your doom. But lone white swans though ye\nbe, ye shall keep forever your own sweet Gaelic speech, and ye shall\nsing, with plaintive voices, songs so haunting that your music will\nbring peace to the souls of those who hear. And still beneath your snowy\nplumage shall beat the hearts of Finola, Aed, Fiacra and Conn, and still\nforever shall ye be the children of Lir.\"\n\n [Illustration: FOUR SNOW-WHITE SWANS FLOATED ON THE BLUE LAKE]\n\nThen did Eva order the horses to be yoked to the chariot, and away\nwestward did she drive.\n\nAnd swimming on the lone lake were four white swans.\n\nWhen Eva reached the palace of Bove Derg alone, greatly was he troubled\nlest evil had befallen the children of Lir.\n\nBut the attendants, because of their great fear of Eva, dared not to\ntell the King of the magic spell she had wrought by the way. Therefore\nBove Derg asked, \"Wherefore, O Eva, come not Finola and her brothers to\nthe palace this day?\"\n\nAnd Eva answered: \"Because, O King, Lir no longer trusteth thee,\ntherefore would he not let the children come hither.\"\n\nBut Bove Derg believed not his foster-daughter, and that night he\nsecretly sent messengers across the hills to the dwelling of Lir.\n\nWhen the messengers came there, and told their errand, great was the\ngrief of the father. And in the morning with a heavy heart he summoned a\ncompany of the Dedannans, and together they set out for the palace of\nBove Derg. And it was not until sunset as they reached the lone shore of\nLake Darvra, that they slackened speed.\n\nLir alighted from his chariot and stood spellbound. What was that\nplaintive sound? The Gaelic words, his dear daughter's voice more\nenchanting even than of old, and yet, before and around, only the lone\nblue lake. The haunting music rang clearer, and as the last words died\naway, four snow-white swans glided from behind the sedges, and with a\nwild flap of wings flew toward the eastern shore. There, stricken with\nwonder, stood Lir.\n\n\"Know, O Lir,\" said Finola, \"that we are thy children, changed by the\nwicked magic of our stepmother into four white swans.\" When Lir and the\nDedannan people heard these words, they wept aloud.\n\nStill spake the swan-maiden: \"Three hundred years must we float on this\nlone lake, three hundred years shall we be storm-tossed on the waters\nbetween Erin and Alba, and three hundred years on the wild Western Sea.\nNot until Decca be the Queen of Largnen, not until the good saint come\nto Erin and the chime of the Christ-bell be heard in the land, not until\nthen shall we be saved from our doom.\"\n\nThen great cries of sorrow went up from the Dedannans, and again Lir\nsobbed aloud. But at the last silence fell upon his grief, and Finola\ntold how she and her brothers would keep forever their own sweet Gaelic\nspeech, how they would sing songs so haunting that their music would\nbring peace to the souls of all who heard. She told how, beneath their\nsnowy plumage, the human hearts of Finola, Aed, Fiacra, and Conn should\nstill beat--the hearts of the children of Lir. \"Stay with us to-night by\nthe lone lake,\" she ended, \"and our music will steal to you across its\nmoonlit waters and lull you into peaceful slumber. Stay, stay with us.\"\n\nAnd Lir and his people stayed on the shore that night and until the\nmorning glimmered. Then, with the dim dawn, silence stole over the lake.\n\nSpeedily did Lir rise, and in haste did he bid farewell to his children,\nthat he might seek Eva and see her tremble before him.\n\nSwiftly did he drive and straight, until he came to the palace of Bove\nDerg, and there by the waters of the Great Lake did Bove Derg meet him.\n\"Oh, Lir, wherefore have thy children come not hither?\" And Eva stood by\nthe King.\n\nStern and sad rang the answer of Lir: \"Alas! Eva, your foster-child,\nhath by her wicked magic changed them into four snow-white swans. On the\nblue waters of Lake Darvra dwell Finola, Aed, Fiacra, and Conn, and\nthence come I that I may avenge their doom.\"\n\nA silence as the silence of death fell upon the three, and all was still\nsave that Eva trembled greatly. But ere long Bove Derg spake. Fierce and\nangry did he look, as, high above his foster-daughter, he held his magic\nwand. Awful was his voice as he pronounced her doom: \"Wretched woman,\nhenceforth shalt thou no longer darken this fair earth, but as a demon\nof the air shalt thou dwell in misery till the end of time.\" And of a\nsudden from out her shoulders grew black, shadowy wings, and, with a\npiercing scream, she swirled upward, until the awe-stricken Dedannans\nsaw nought save a black speck vanish among the lowering clouds. And as a\ndemon of the air do Eva's black wings swirl her through space to this\nday.\n\nBut great and good was Bove Derg. He laid aside his magic wand and so\nspake: \"Let us, my people, leave the Great Lake, and let us pitch our\ntents on the shores of Lake Darvra. Exceeding dear unto us are the\nchildren of Lir, and I, Bove Derg, and Lir, their father, have vowed\nhenceforth to make our home forever by the lone waters where they\ndwell.\"\n\nAnd when it was told throughout the Green Island of Erin of the fate of\nthe children of Lir and of the vow that Bove Derg had vowed, from north,\nsouth, east, and west did the Dedannans flock to the lake, until a\nmighty host dwelt by its shores.\n\nAnd by day Finola and her brothers knew not loneliness, for in the sweet\nGaelic speech they told of their joys and fears; and by night the mighty\nDedannans knew no sorrowful memories, for by haunting songs were they\nlulled to sleep, and the music brought peace to their souls.\n\nSlowly did the years go by, and upon the shoulders of Bove Derg and Lir\nfell the long white hair. Fearful grew the four swans, for the time was\nnot far off when they must wing their flight north to the wild sea of\nMoyle.\n\nAnd when at length the sad day dawned, Finola told her brothers how\ntheir three hundred happy years on Lake Darvra were at an end, and how\nthey must now leave the peace of its lone waters for evermore.\n\nThen, slowly and sadly, did the four swans glide to the margin of the\nlake. Never had the snowy whiteness of their plumage so dazzled the\nbeholders, never had music so sweet and sorrowful floated to Lake\nDarvra's sunlit shores. As the swans reached the water's edge, silent\nwere the three brothers, and alone Finola chanted a farewell song.\n\nWith bowed white heads did the Dedannan host listen to Finola's chant,\nand when the music ceased and only sobs broke the stillness, the four\nswans spread their wings, and, soaring high, paused but for one short\nmoment to gaze on the kneeling forms of Lir and Bove Derg. Then,\nstretching their graceful necks toward the north, they winged their\nflight to the waters of the stormy sea that separates the blue Alba from\nthe Green Island of Erin.\n\nAnd when it was known throughout the Green Isle that the four white\nswans had flown, so great was the sorrow of the people that they made a\nlaw that no swan should be killed in Erin from that day forth.\n\nWith hearts that burned with longing for their father and their friends,\ndid Finola and her brothers reach the sea of Moyle. Cold were its wintry\nwaters, black and fearful were the steep rocks overhanging Alba's\nfar-stretching coasts. From hunger, too, the swans suffered. Dark indeed\nwas all, and darker yet as the children of Lir remembered the still\nwaters of Lake Darvra and the fond Dedannan host on its peaceful shores.\nHere the sighing of the wind among the reeds no longer soothed their\nsorrow, but the roar of the breaking surf struck fresh terror in their\nsouls. In misery and terror did their days pass, until one night the\nblack, lowering clouds overhead told that a great tempest was nigh. Then\ndid Finola call to her Aed, Fiacra, and Conn. \"Beloved brothers, a great\nfear is at my heart, for, in the fury of the coming gale, we may be\ndriven the one from the other. Therefore, let us say where we may hope\nto meet when the storm is spent.\"\n\nAnd Aed answered: \"Wise art thou, dear, gentle sister. If we be driven\napart, may it be to meet again on the rocky isle that has ofttimes been\nour haven, for well known is it to us all, and from far can it be seen.\"\n\nDarker grew the night, louder raged the wind, as the four swans dived\nand rose again on the giant billows. Yet fiercer blew the gale, until at\nmidnight loud bursts of thunder mingled with the roaring wind, but, in\nthe glare of the blue lightning's flashes, the children of Lir beheld\neach the snowy form of the other. The mad fury of the hurricane yet\nincreased, and the force of it lifted one swan from its wild home on the\nbillows, and swept it through the blackness of the night. Another blue\nlightning-flash, and each swan saw its loneliness, and uttered a great\ncry of desolation. Tossed hither and thither by wind and wave, the white\nbirds were well-nigh dead when dawn broke. And with the dawn fell calm.\n\nSwift as her tired wings would bear her, Finola sailed to the rocky\nisle, where she hoped to find her brothers. But alas! no sign was there\nof one of them. Then to the highest summit of the rocks she flew. North,\nsouth, east, and west did she look, yet nought saw she save a watery\nwilderness. Now did her heart fail her, and she sang the saddest song\nshe had yet sung.\n\nAs the last notes died Finola raised her eyes, and lo! Conn came slowly\nswimming toward her with drenched plumage and head that drooped. And as\nshe looked, behold! Fiacra appeared, but it was as though his strength\nfailed. Then did Finola swim toward her fainting brother and lend him\nher aid, and soon the twins were safe on the sunlit rock, nestling for\nwarmth beneath their sister's wings.\n\nYet Finola's heart still beat with alarm as she sheltered her younger\nbrothers, for Aed came not, and she feared lest he were lost forever.\nBut, at noon, sailing he came over the breast of the blue waters, with\nhead erect and plumage sunlit. And under the feathers of her breast did\nFinola draw him, for Conn and Fiacra still cradled beneath her wings.\n\"Rest here, while ye may, dear brothers,\" she said.\n\nAnd she sang to them a lullaby so surpassing sweet that the sea-birds\nhushed their cries and flocked to listen to the sad, slow music. And\nwhen Aed and Fiacra and Conn were lulled to sleep, Finola's notes grew\nmore and more faint and her head drooped, and soon she, too, slept\npeacefully in the warm sunlight.\n\nBut few were the sunny days on the sea of Moyle, and many were the\ntempests that ruffled its waters. Still keener grew the winter frosts,\nand the misery of the four white swans was greater than ever before.\nEven their most sorrowful Gaelic songs told not half their woe. From the\nfury of the storm they still sought shelter on that rocky isle where\nFinola had despaired of seeing her dear ones more.\n\nSlowly passed the years of doom, until one midwinter a frost more keen\nthan any known before froze the sea into a floor of solid black ice. By\nnight the swans crouched together on the rocky isle for warmth, but each\nmorning they were frozen to the ground and could free themselves only\nwith sore pain, for they left clinging to the ice-bound rock the soft\ndown of their breasts, the quills from their white wings, and the skin\nof their poor feet.\n\nAnd when the sun melted the ice-bound surface of the waters, and the\nswans swam once more in the sea of Moyle, the salt water entered their\nwounds, and they well-nigh died of pain. But in time the down on their\nbreasts and the feathers on their wings grew, and they were healed of\ntheir wounds.\n\nThe years dragged on, and by day Finola and her brothers would fly\ntoward the shores of the Green Island of Erin, or to the rocky blue\nheadlands of Alba, or they would swim far out into a dim gray wilderness\nof waters. But ever as night fell it was their doom to return to the sea\nof Moyle.\n\nOne day, as they looked toward the Green Isle, they saw coming to the\ncoast a troop of horsemen mounted on snow-white steeds, and their armor\nglittered in the sun.\n\nA cry of great joy went up from the children of Lir, for they had seen\nno human form since they spread their wings above Lake Darvra, and flew\nto the stormy sea of Moyle.\n\n\"Speak,\" said Finola to her brothers, \"speak, and say if these be not\nour own Dedannan folk.\" And Aed and Fiacra and Conn strained their eyes,\nand Aed answered, \"It seemeth, dear sister, to me, that it is indeed our\nown people.\"\n\nAs the horsemen drew nearer and saw the four swans, each man shouted in\nthe Gaelic tongue, \"Behold the children of Lir!\"\n\nAnd when Finola and her brothers heard once more the sweet Gaelic\nspeech, and saw the faces of their own people, their happiness was\ngreater than can be told. For long they were silent, but at length\nFinola spake.\n\nOf their life on the sea of Moyle she told, of the dreary rains and\nblustering winds, of the giant waves and the roaring thunder, of the\nblack frost, and of their own poor battered and wounded bodies. Of their\nloneliness of soul, of that she could not speak. \"But tell us,\" she went\non, \"tell us of our father, Lir. Lives he still, and Bove Derg, and our\ndear Dedannan friends?\"\n\nScarce could the Dedannans speak for the sorrow they had for Finola and\nher brothers, but they told how Lir and Bove Derg were alive and well,\nand were even now celebrating the Feast of Age at the house of Lir. \"But\nfor their longing for you, your father and friends would be happy\nindeed.\"\n\nGlad then and of great comfort were the hearts of Finola and her\nbrothers. But they could not hear more, for they must hasten to fly from\nthe pleasant shores of Erin to the sea-stream of Moyle, which was their\ndoom. And as they flew, Finola sang, and faint floated her voice over\nthe kneeling host.\n\nAs the sad song grew fainter and more faint, the Dedannans wept aloud.\nThen, as the snow-white birds faded from sight, the sorrowful company\nturned the heads of their white steeds from the shore, and rode\nsouthward to the home of Lir.\n\nAnd when it was told there of the sufferings of Finola and her brothers,\ngreat was the sorrow of the Dedannans. Yet was Lir glad that his\nchildren were alive, and he thought of the day when the magic spell\nwould be broken, and those so dear to him would be freed from their\nbitter woe.\n\nOnce more were ended three hundred years of doom, and glad were the four\nwhite swans to leave the cruel sea of Moyle. Yet might they fly only to\nthe wild Western Sea, and tempest-tossed as before, here they in no way\nescaped the pitiless fury of wind and wave. Worse than aught they had\nbefore endured was a frost that drove the brothers to despair. Well-nigh\nfrozen to a rock, they one night cried aloud to Finola that they longed\nfor death. And she, too, would fain have died.\n\nBut that same night did a dream come to the swan-maiden, and, when she\nawoke, she cried to her brothers to take heart. \"Believe, dear brothers,\nin the great God who hath created the earth with its fruits and the sea\nwith its terrible wonders. Trust in him, and he will yet save you.\" And\nher brothers answered, \"We will trust.\"\n\nAnd Finola also put her trust in God, and they all fell into a deep\nslumber.\n\nWhen the children of Lir awoke, behold! the sun shone, and thereafter,\nuntil the three hundred years on the Western Sea were ended, neither\nwind nor wave nor rain nor frost did hurt the four swans.\n\nOn a grassy isle they lived and sang their wondrous songs by day, and by\nnight they nestled together on their soft couch, and awoke in the\nmorning to sunshine and to peace. And there on the grassy island was\ntheir home, until the three hundred years were at an end. Then Finola\ncalled to her brothers, and tremblingly she told, and tremblingly they\nheard, that they might now fly eastward to seek their own old home.\n\nLightly did they rise on outstretched wings, and swiftly did they fly\nuntil they reached land. There they alighted and gazed each at the\nother, but too great for speech was their joy. Then again did they\nspread their wings and fly above the green grass on and on, until they\nreached the hills and trees that surrounded their old home. But, alas!\nonly the ruins of Lir's dwelling were left. Around was a wilderness\novergrown with rank grass, nettles, and weeds.\n\nToo downhearted to stir, the swans slept that night within the ruined\nwalls of their old home, but, when day broke, each could no longer bear\nthe loneliness, and again they flew westward. And it was not until they\ncame to Inis Glora that they alighted. On a small lake in the heart of\nthe island they made their home, and, by their enchanting music, they\ndrew to its shores all the birds of the west, until the lake came to be\ncalled \"The Lake of the Bird-flocks.\"\n\nSlowly passed the years, but a great longing filled the hearts of the\nchildren of Lir. When would the good saint come to Erin? When would the\nchime of the Christ-bell peal over land and sea?\n\nOne rosy dawn the swans awoke among the rushes of the Lake of the\nBird-flocks, and strange and faint was the sound that floated to them\nfrom afar. Trembling, they nestled close the one to the other, until the\nbrothers stretched their wings and fluttered hither and thither in great\nfear. Yet trembling they flew back to their sister, who had remained\nsilent among the sedges. Crouching by her side they asked, \"What, dear\nsister, can be the strange, faint sound that steals across our island?\"\n\nWith quiet, deep joy Finola answered: \"Dear brothers, it is the chime of\nthe Christ-bell that ye hear, the Christ-bell of which we have dreamed\nthrough thrice three hundred years. Soon the spell will be broken, soon\nour sufferings will end.\" Then did Finola glide from the shelter of the\nsedges across the rose-lit lake, and there by the shore of the Western\nSea she chanted a song of hope.\n\nCalm crept into the hearts of the brothers as Finola sang, and, as she\nended, once more the chime stole across the isle. No longer did it\nstrike terror into the hearts of the children of Lir, rather as a note\nof peace did it sink into their souls.\n\nThen, when the last chime died, Finola said, \"Let us sing to the great\nKing of Heaven and Earth.\"\n\nFar stole the sweet strains of the white swans, far across Inis Glora,\nuntil they reached the good Saint Kemoc, for whose early prayers the\nChrist-bell had chimed.\n\nAnd he, filled with wonder at the surpassing sweetness of the music,\nstood mute, but when it was revealed unto him that the voices he heard\nwere the voices of Finola and Aed and Fiacra and Conn, who thanked the\nHigh God for the chime of the Christ-bell, he knelt and also gave\nthanks, for it was to seek the children of Lir that the saint had come\nto Inis Glora.\n\nIn the glory of noon, Kemoc reached the shore of the little lake, and\nsaw four white swans gliding on its waters. And no need had the saint to\nask whether these indeed were the children of Lir. Rather did he give\nthanks to the High God who had brought him hither.\n\nThen gravely the good Kemoc said to the swans: \"Come ye now to land, and\nput your trust in me, for it is in this place that ye shall be freed\nfrom your enchantment.\"\n\nThese words the four white swans heard with great joy, and coming to the\nshore they placed themselves under the care of the saint. And he led\nthem to his cell, and there they dwelt with him. And Kemoc sent to Erin\nfor a skilful workman, and ordered that two slender chains of shining\nsilver be made. Betwixt Finola and Aed did he clasp one silver chain,\nand with the other did he bind Fiacra and Conn.\n\nThen did the children of Lir dwell with the holy Kemoc, and he taught\nthem the wonderful story of Christ that he and Saint Patrick had brought\nto the Green Isle. And the story so gladdened their hearts that the\nmisery of their past sufferings was well-nigh forgotten, and they lived\nin great happiness with the saint. Dear to him were they, dear as though\nthey had been his own children.\n\nThrice three hundred years had gone since Eva had chanted the fate of\nthe children of Lir. \"Until Decca be the Queen of Largnen, until the\ngood saint come to Erin, and ye hear the chime of the Christ-bell, shall\nye not be delivered from your doom.\"\n\nThe good saint had indeed come, and the sweet chimes of the Christ-bell\nhad been heard, and the fair Decca was now the Queen of King Largnen.\n\nSoon were tidings brought to Decca of the swan-maiden and her three\nswan-brothers. Strange tales did she hear of their haunting songs. It\nwas told her, too, of their cruel miseries. Then begged she her husband,\nthe King, that he would go to Kemoc and bring to her these human birds.\n\nBut Largnen did not wish to ask Kemoc to part with the swans, and\ntherefore he did not go.\n\nThen was Decca angry, and swore she would live no longer with Largnen,\nuntil he brought the singing swans to the palace. And that same night\nshe set out for her father's kingdom in the south.\n\nNevertheless Largnen loved Decca, and great was his grief when he heard\nthat she had fled. And he commanded messengers to go after her, saying\nhe would send for the white swans if she would but come back. Therefore\nDecca returned to the palace, and Largnen sent to Kemoc to beg of him\nthe four white swans. But the messenger returned without the birds.\n\nThen was Largnen wroth, and set out himself for the cell of Kemoc. But\nhe found the saint in the little church, and before the altar were the\nfour white swans.\n\n\"Is it truly told me that you refused these birds to Queen Decca?\" asked\nthe King.\n\n\"It is truly told,\" replied Kemoc.\n\nThen Largnen was more wroth than before, and seizing the silver chain of\nFinola and Aed in the one hand, and the chain of Fiacra and Conn in the\nother, he dragged the birds from the altar and down the aisle, and it\nseemed as though he would leave the church. And in great fear did the\nsaint follow.\n\nBut lo! as they reached the door, the snow-white feathers of the four\nswans fell to the ground, and the children of Lir were delivered from\ntheir doom. For was not Decca the bride of Largnen, and the good saint\nhad he not come, and the chime of the Christ-bell was it not heard in\nthe land?\n\nBut aged and feeble were the children of Lir. Wrinkled were their once\nfair faces, and bent their little white bodies.\n\nAt the sight Largnen, affrighted, fled from the church, and the good\nKemoc cried aloud, \"Woe to thee, O King!\"\n\nThen did the children of Lir turn toward the saint, and thus Finola\nspake: \"Baptize us now, we pray thee, for death is nigh. Heavy with\nsorrow are our hearts that we must part from thee, thou holy one, and\nthat in loneliness must thy days on earth be spent. But such is the will\nof the high God. Here let our graves be digged, and here bury our four\nbodies, Conn standing at my right side, Fiacra at my left, and Aed\nbefore my face, for thus did I shelter my dear brothers for thrice three\nhundred years 'neath wing and breast.\"\n\nThen did the good Kemoc baptize the children of Lir, and thereafter the\nsaint looked up, and lo! he saw a vision of four lovely children with\nsilvery wings, and faces radiant as the sun; and as he gazed they\nfloated ever upward, until they were lost in a mist of blue. Then was\nthe good Kemoc glad, for he knew that they had gone to heaven.\n\nBut, when he looked downward, four worn bodies lay at the church door,\nand Kemoc wept sore.\n\nAnd the saint ordered a wide grave to be digged close by the little\nchurch, and there were the children of Lir buried, Conn standing at\nFinola's right hand, and Fiacra at her left, and before her face her\ntwin brother Aed.\n\nAnd the grass grew green above them, and a white tombstone bore their\nnames, and across the grave floated morning and evening the chime of the\nsweet Christ-bell.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MISHAPS OF HANDY ANDY\n\n\nAndy Rooney was a fellow who had the most singularly ingenious knack of\ndoing everything the wrong way. He grew up in his humble Irish home full\nof mischief to the eyes of every one save his admiring mother. But, to\ndo him justice, he never meant harm in the course of his life, and he\nwas most anxious to offer his services on every occasion to all who\nwould accept them. Here is the account of how Andy first went into\nservice:\n\nWhen Andy grew up to be what in country parlance is called \"a brave lump\nof a boy,\" and his mother thought he was old enough to do something for\nhimself, she took him one day along with her to the squire's, and\nwaited outside the door, loitering up and down the yard behind the\nhouse, among a crowd of beggars and great lazy dogs that were thrusting\ntheir heads into every iron pot that stood outside the kitchen door,\nuntil chance might give her \"a sight of the squire afore he wint out, or\nafore he wint in\"; and, after spending her entire day in this idle way,\nat last the squire made his appearance, and Judy presented her son, who\nkept scraping his foot, and pulling his forelock, that stuck out like a\npiece of ragged thatch from his forehead, making his obeisance to the\nsquire, while his mother was sounding his praises for being the\n\"handiest craythur alive, and so willin'--nothin' comes wrong to him.\"\n\n\"I suppose the English of all this is, you want me to take him?\" said\nthe squire.\n\n\"Throth, an' your honor, that's just it--if your honor would be plazed.\"\n\n\"What can he do?\"\n\n\"Anything, your honor.\"\n\n\"That means _nothing_, I suppose,\" said the squire.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir! Everything, I mane, that you would desire him to do.\"\n\nTo every one of these assurances on his mother's part Andy made a bow\nand a scrape.\n\n\"Can he take care of horses?\"\n\n\"The best of care, sir,\" said the mother.\n\n\"Let him come, then, and help in the stables, and we'll see what we can\ndo.\"\n\nThe next day found Andy duly installed in the office of stable-helper;\nand, as he was a good rider, he was soon made whipper-in to the hounds,\nand became a favorite with the squire, who was one of those rollicking\n\"boys\" of the old school, who let any one that chance threw in his way\nbring him his boots, or his hot water for shaving, or brush his coat,\nwhenever it was brushed. The squire, you see, scorned the attentions of\na regular valet. But Andy knew a great deal more about horses than about\nthe duties of a valet. One morning he came to his master's room with hot\nwater and tapped at the door.\n\n\"Who's that?\" said the squire, who had just risen.\n\n\"It's me, sir.\"\n\n\"Oh, Andy! Come in.\"\n\n\"Here's the hot water, sir,\" said Andy, bearing an enormous tin can.\n\n\"Why, what brings that enormous tin can here? You might as well bring\nthe stable-bucket.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon, sir,\" said Andy, retreating. In two minutes more\nAndy came back, and, tapping at the door, put in his head cautiously.\n\n\n HOW ANDY BROUGHT HIS MASTER'S\n HOT WATER IN THE MORNING\n\n\"The maids in the kitchen, your honor, say there's not so much hot water\nready.\"\n\n\"Did I not see it a moment since in your hand?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; but that's not nigh the full o' the stable-bucket.\"\n\n\"Go along, you stupid thief, and get me some hot water directly.\"\n\n\"Will the can do, sir?\"\n\n\"Ay, anything, so you make haste.\"\n\nOff posted Andy, and back he came with the can.\n\n\"Where'll I put it, sir?\"\n\n\"Throw this out,\" said the squire, handing Andy a jug containing some\ncold water, meaning the jug to be replenished with the hot.\n\nAndy took the jug, and the window of the room being open, he very\ndeliberately threw the jug out. The squire stared with wonder, and at\nlast said:\n\n\"What did you do that for?\"\n\n\"Sure, you _towld_ me to throw it out, sir.\"\n\n\"Go out of this, you thick-headed villain,\" said the squire, throwing\nhis boots at Andy's head; whereupon Andy retreated, and, like all stupid\npeople, thought himself a very ill-used person.\n\n\n WHAT HAPPENED WHEN ANDY\n OPENED A BOTTLE OF SODA AT\n THE DINNER\n\nAndy was soon the laughing-stock of the household. When, for example, he\nfirst saw silver forks he declared that \"he had never seen a silver\nspoon split that way before.\" When told to \"cut the cord\" of a\nsoda-water bottle on one occasion when the squire was entertaining a\nnumber of guests at dinner, he \"did as he was desired.\"\n\nHe happened at that time to hold the bottle on the level with the\ncandles that shed light over the festive board from a large silver\nbranch, and the moment he made the incision, bang went the bottle of\nsoda, knocking out two of the lights with the projected cork, which\nstruck the squire himself in the eye at the foot of the table; while the\nhostess, at the head, had a cold bath down her back. Andy, when he saw\nthe soda-water jumping out of the bottle, held it from him at arm's\nlength, at every fizz it made, exclaiming: \"Ow! Ow! Ow!\" and at last,\nwhen the bottle was empty, he roared out: \"Oh, oh, it's all gone!\"\n\nGreat was the commotion. Few could resist laughter, except the ladies,\nwho all looked at their gowns, not liking the mixture of satin and\nsoda-water. The extinguished candles were relighted, the squire got his\neyes open again, and the next time he perceived the butler sufficiently\nnear to speak to him, he said, in a low and hurried tone of deep anger,\nwhile he knit his brow:\n\n\"Send that fellow out of the room.\" Suspended from indoor service, Andy\nwas not long before he distinguished himself out of doors in such a way\nas to involve his master in a coil of trouble, and, incidentally, to\nretard the good fortune that came to himself in the end.\n\n\n THE SQUIRE SENDS ANDY TO THE\n POST-OFFICE FOR A LETTER\n\nThe squire said to him one day:\n\n\"Ride into the town and see if there's a letter for me.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Andy.\n\n\"Do you know where to go?\" inquired his master.\n\n\"To the town, sir,\" was the reply.\n\n\"But do you know where to go in the town?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"And why don't you ask, you stupid thief?\"\n\n\"Sure, I'd find out, sir.\"\n\n\"Didn't I often tell you to ask what you're to do when you don't know?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"And why don't you?\"\n\n\"I don't like to be troublesome, sir.\"\n\n\"Confound you!\" said the squire, though he could not help laughing at\nAndy's excuse for remaining in ignorance. \"Well, go to the post-office.\nYou know the post-office, I suppose?\" continued his master in sarcastic\ntones.\n\n\"Yes, sir; where they sell gunpowder.\"\n\n\"You're right for once,\" said the squire--for his Majesty's postmaster\nwas the person who had the privilege of dealing in the aforesaid\ncombustible. \"Go, then, to the post-office, and ask for a letter for me.\nRemember, not gunpowder, but a letter.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said Andy, who got astride of his hack, and trotted away to\nthe post-office.\n\nOn arriving at the shop of the postmaster (for that person carried on a\nbrisk trade in groceries, gimlets, broadcloth, and linen-drapery), Andy\npresented himself at the counter, and said:\n\n\"I want a letther, sir, if you plaze.\"\n\n\"Who do you want it for?\" said the postmaster, in a tone which Andy\nconsidered an aggression upon the sacredness of private life. So Andy,\nin his ignorance and pride, thought the coolest contempt he could throw\nupon the prying impertinence of the postmaster was to repeat his\nquestion.\n\n\n ANDY HAS A VERY FOOLISH QUARREL\n WITH THE POSTMASTER\n\n\"I want a letther, sir, if you plaze.\"\n\n\"And who do you want it for?\" repeated the postmaster.\n\n\"What's that to you?\" said Andy.\n\nThe postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell\nwhat letter to give him unless he told him the direction.\n\n\"The directions I got was to get a letther here--that's the directions.\"\n\n\"Who gave you those directions?\"\n\n\"The master.\"\n\n\"And who's your master?\"\n\n\"What consarn is that of yours?\"\n\n\"Why, you stupid rascal, if you don't tell me his name, how can I give\nyou a letter?\"\n\n\"You could give it if you liked; but you're fond of axin' impident\nquestions, bekase you think I'm simple.\"\n\n\"Go along out o' this! Your master must be as great a goose as yourself,\nto send such a messenger.\"\n\n\"Bad luck to your impidence!\" said Andy. \"Is it Squire Egan you dare to\nsay goose to?\"\n\n\"Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then?\"\n\n\"Yes. Have you anything to say agin it?\"\n\n\"Only that I never saw you before.\"\n\n\"Faith, then, you'll never see me agin if I have my own consint.\"\n\n\"I won't give you any letter for the squire unless I know you're his\nservant. Is there any one in the town knows you?\"\n\n\"Plenty,\" said Andy. \"It's not every one is as ignorant as you.\"\n\n\n WHY ANDY WOULD NOT PAY ELEVEN\n PENCE FOR A LETTER\n\nJust at this moment a person to whom Andy was known entered the house,\nwho vouched to the postmaster that he might give Andy the squire's\nletter. \"Have you one for me?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said the postmaster, producing one. \"Fourpence.\"\n\nThe gentleman paid the fourpence postage (the story, it must be\nremembered, belongs to the earlier half of the last century, before the\ndays of the penny post), and left the shop with his letter.\n\n\"Here's a letter for the squire,\" said the postmaster. \"You've to pay me\nelevenpence postage.\"\n\n\"What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?\"\n\n\"For postage.\"\n\n\"Get out wid you! Didn't I see you give Mr. Durfy a letther for\nfourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this? And now you want\nme to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing? Do you think I'm a\nfool?\"\n\n\"No; but I'm sure of it,\" said the postmaster.\n\n\"Well, you're welkum, to be sure; but don't be delayin' me now. Here's\nfourpence for you, and gi' me the letther.\"\n\n\"Go along, you stupid thief!\" (the word \"thief\" was often used in\nIreland in the humorous way we sometimes use the word \"rascal\") said the\npostmaster, taking up the letter, and going to serve a customer with a\nmouse-trap.\n\n\n WHY ANDY WENT BACK TO THE\n SQUIRE WITHOUT HIS LETTER\n\nWhile this person and many others were served, Andy lounged up and down\nthe shop, every now and then putting in his head in the middle of the\ncustomers and saying:\n\n\"Will you gi' me the letther?\"\n\nHe waited for above half an hour, and at last left, when he found it\nimpossible to get common justice for his master, which he thought he\ndeserved as well as another man; for, under this impression, Andy\ndetermined to give no more than the fourpence. The squire, in the\nmeantime, was getting impatient for his return, and when Andy made his\nappearance, asked if there was a letter for him.\n\n\"There is, sir,\" said Andy.\n\n\"Then give it to me.\"\n\n\"I haven't it, sir.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"He wouldn't give it to me, sir.\"\n\n\"Who wouldn't give it to you?\"\n\n\n ANDY IS SENT BACK TO THE POST-OFFICE\n BY HIS ANGRY MASTER\n\n\"That owld chate beyant in the town--wanting to charge double for it.\"\n\n\"Maybe it's a double letter. Why didn't you pay what he asked, sir?\"\n\n\"Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated? It's not a double letther at\nall; not above half the size o' one Mr. Durfy got before my face for\nfourpence.\"\n\n\"You'll provoke me to break your neck some day, you vagabond! Ride back\nfor your life, and pay whatever he asks, and get me the letter.\"\n\n\"Why, sir, I tell you he was sellin' them before my face for fourpence\napiece.\"\n\n\"Go back, you scoundrel, or I'll horsewhip you; and if you're longer\nthan an hour, I'll have you ducked in the horsepond!\"\n\nAndy vanished, and made a second visit to the post-office. When he\narrived two other persons were getting letters, and the postmaster was\nselecting the epistles for each from a large parcel that lay before him\non the counter. At the same time many shop customers were waiting to be\nserved.\n\n\"I've come for that letther,\" said Andy.\n\n\"I'll attend to you by and by.\"\n\n\"The masther's in a hurry.\"\n\n\"Let him wait till his hurry's over.\"\n\n\"He'll murther me if I'm not back soon.\"\n\n\"I'm glad to hear it.\"\n\n\n CALLED A \"THIEF\" IN JEST, ANDY DOES\n A LITTLE THIEVING IN EARNEST\n\nWhile the postmaster went on with such provoking answers to these\nappeals for despatch, Andy's eye caught the heap of letters which lay on\nthe counter. So, while certain weighing of soap and tobacco was going\nforward, he contrived to become possessed of two letters from the heap,\nand, having effected that, waited patiently enough until it was the\ngreat man's pleasure to give him the missive directed to his master.\n\nThen did Andy bestride his hack, and, in triumph at his trick on the\npostmaster, rattled along the road homeward as fast as the beast could\ncarry him. He came into the squire's presence; his face beaming with\ndelight, and an air of self-satisfied superiority in his manner, quite\nunaccountable to his master, until he pulled forth his hand, which had\nbeen grubbing up his prizes from the bottom of his pocket, and, holding\nthree letters over his head while he said: \"Look at that!\" he next\nslapped them down under his broad fist on the table before the squire,\nsaying:\n\n\"Well, if he did make me pay elevenpence, I brought your honor the worth\no' your money, anyhow.\"\n\nNow, the letter addressed to the squire was from his law-agent, and\nconcerned an approaching election in the county. His old friend, Mr.\nGustavus O'Grady, the master of Neck-or-Nothing Hall, was, it appeared,\nworking in the interest of the honorable Sackville Scatterbrain, and\nagainst Squire Egan.\n\n\n THE TROUBLE THAT CAME OF ANDY'S\n FAMOUS VISITS TO THE POST-OFFICE\n\nThis unexpected information threw him into a great rage, in the midst\nof which his eye caught sight of one of the letters Andy had taken\nfrom the post-office. This was addressed to Mr. O'Grady, and as it\nbore the Dublin postmark, Mr. Egan yielded to the temptation of making\nthe letter gape at its extremities--this was before the days of the\nenvelope--and so read its contents, which were highly uncomplimentary to\nthe reader. As Mr. O'Grady was much in debt financially to Mr. Egan, the\nlatter decided to put all the pressure of the law upon his one-time\nfriend, and, to save trouble with the authorities, destroyed both of the\nstolen letters and pledged Andy to secrecy.\n\nNeck-or-Nothing Hall was carefully guarded from intruders, and Mr.\nEgan's agent, Mr. Murphy, greatly doubted if it would be possible to\nserve its master with a writ. Our friend Andy, however, unconsciously\nsolved the difficulty.\n\nBeing sent over to the law-agent's for the writ, and at the same time\nbidden to call at the apothecary's for a prescription, he managed to mix\nup the two documents, leaving the writ, without its accompanying letter,\nat the apothecary's, whence it was duly forwarded to Neck-or-Nothing\nHall with certain medicines for Mr. O'Grady, who was then lying ill in\nbed. The law-agent's letter, in its turn, was brought to Squire Egan by\nAndy, together with a blister which was meant for Mr. O'Grady. Imagine\nthe recipient's anger when he read the following missive and, on opening\nthe package it was with, found a real and not a figurative blister:\n\n\"MY DEAR SQUIRE: I send you the blister for O'Grady as you insist on it;\nbut I think you won't find it easy to serve him with it.\n\n \"Your obedient and obliged,\n \"MURTOUGH MURPHY.\"\n\nThe result in his case was a hurried ride to the law-agent's and the\nadministration to that devoted personage of a severe hiding. This was\nfollowed by a duel, in which, happily, neither combatant was hurt. Then,\nafter the firing, satisfactory explanations were made. On Mr. O'Grady's\npart, there was an almost simultaneous descent upon the unsuspecting\napothecary, and the administration to the man of drugs and blisters of a\nterrible drubbing. Next a duel was arranged between the two old friends.\nAndy again distinguished himself.\n\n\n HOW ANDY WAS FINALLY DISCHARGED\n FROM THE SERVICE OF SQUIRE EGAN\n\nWhen his employer's second was not looking, Andy thought he would do\nSquire Egan a good turn by inserting bullets in his pistols before they\nwere loaded. The intention of Andy was to give Mr. Egan the advantage of\ndouble bullets, but the result was that, when the weapons were loaded,\nAndy's bullets lay between the powder and the touch-hole. Mr. O'Grady\nmissed his aim twice, and Mr. Egan missed his fire. The cause being\ndiscovered, Andy was unmercifully chased and punished by the second, and\nignominiously dismissed from Mr. Egan's service.\n\nBy an accident, Andy shortly afterward was the means of driving a Mr.\nFurlong to Squire Egan's place instead of to Squire O'Grady's. Mr.\nFurlong was an agent from Dublin Castle, whose commission it was to aid\nthe cause of the Honorable Mr. Scatterbrain. Of course, Andy, when he\nwas told, on taking the place of the driver of the vehicle in which\nMr. Furlong was traveling, to drive this important personage to \"the\nsquire's,\" at once jumped to the conclusion that by \"the squire's\" was\nmeant Mr. Egan's. Here, before the mistake was found out by the victim,\nMr. Furlong was unburdened of much important information. While this\nprocess was going on at Mr. Egan's, a hue and cry was on foot at Mr.\nO'Grady's, for the lost Mr. Furlong, and poor, blundering Andy was\narrested and charged with murdering him.\n\n\n ANOTHER OF ANDY'S BLUNDERS HAS\n A HAPPY RESULT FOR HIS OLD MASTER\n\nHe was soon set free and taken into Mr. O'Grady's service when Mr.\nFurlong had made his appearance before the owner of Neck-or-Nothing\nHall. But a clever rascal named Larry Hogan divined by accident and the\nhelp of his native wit the secret of the stolen letters, and Andy was\nforced by terror to flee from Neck-or-Nothing Hall.\n\nHis subsequent adventures took him through the heat of the election, at\nwhich his ingenuity was displayed in unwittingly stopping up the mouth\nof the trumpet on which the Honorable Mr. Scatterbrain's supporters\nrelied to drown Mr. Egan's speeches and those of his men. He thus did a\ngood turn to his old master without knowing it, having merely imitated\nthe action of the trumpeter, who had pretended to cork up the instrument\nbefore momentarily laying it aside.\n\nWhen his fortunes seemed to be at their lowest ebb, Andy was discovered\nto be the rightful heir to the Scatterbrain title and estates, his\nclaims to which were set forth in the second of the two letters stolen\nfrom the post-office, which had been destroyed by the squire without his\nreading it.\n\n\n ANDY TURNS OUT TO BE OF GENTLE\n BIRTH AND COMES INTO HIS OWN\n\nSoon afterward, through his old master's influence, Andy was taken to\nLondon, and by dint of much effort remedied many of the defects of his\nearly education. Then, marrying his cousin, Onoah, who had shared his\nmother's cabin in the old days, and to save whom from a desperado Andy\nhad, this time knowingly, braved great personal danger, our hero settled\ndown to the enjoyment of a life such as he had never dreamed of in his\nhumble days.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GREEDY SHEPHERD\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in the South Country two brothers, whose\nbusiness it was to keep sheep. No one lived on that plain but shepherds,\nwho watched their sheep so carefully that no lamb was ever lost.\n\nThere was none among them more careful than these two brothers, one of\nwhom was called Clutch, and the other Kind. Though brothers, no two men\ncould be more unlike in disposition. Clutch thought of nothing but how\nto make some profit for himself, while Kind would have shared his last\nmorsel with a hungry dog. This covetous mind made Clutch keep all his\nfather's sheep when the old man was dead, because he was the eldest\nbrother, allowing Kind nothing but the place of a servant to help him in\nlooking after them.\n\nFor some time the brothers lived peaceably in their father's cottage,\nand kept their flock on the grassy plain, till new troubles arose\nthrough Clutch's covetousness.\n\nOne midsummer it so happened that the traders praised the wool of\nClutch's flock more than all they found on the plain, and gave him the\nhighest price for it. That was an unlucky thing for the sheep, for after\nthat Clutch thought he could never get enough wool off them. At shearing\ntime nobody clipped so close as Clutch, and, in spite of all Kind could\ndo or say, he left the poor sheep as bare as if they had been shaven.\nKind didn't like these doings, but Clutch always tried to persuade him\nthat close clipping was good for the sheep, and Kind always tried to\nmake him think he had got all the wool. Still Clutch sold the wool, and\nstored up his profits, and one midsummer after another passed. The\nshepherds began to think him a rich man, and close clipping might have\nbecome the fashion but for a strange thing which happened to his flock.\n\nThe wool had grown well that summer. He had taken two crops off the\nsheep, and was thinking of a third, when first the lambs, and then the\newes, began to stray away; and, search as the brothers would, none of\nthem was ever found again. The flocks grew smaller every day, and all\nthe brothers could find out was that the closest clipped were the first\nto go.\n\nKind grew tired of watching, and Clutch lost his sleep with vexation.\nThe other shepherds, to whom he had boasted of his wool and his profits,\nwere not sorry to see pride having a fall. Still the flock melted away\nas the months wore on, and when the spring came back nothing remained\nwith Clutch and Kind but three old ewes. The two brothers were watching\nthese ewes one evening when Clutch said:\n\n\"Brother, there is wool to be had on their backs.\"\n\n\"It is too little to keep them warm,\" said Kind. \"The east wind still\nblows sometimes.\" But Clutch was off to the cottage for the bag and\nshears.\n\nKind was grieved to see his brother so covetous, and to divert his mind\nhe looked up at the great hills. As he looked, three creatures like\nsheep scoured up a cleft in one of the hills, as fleet as any deer; and\nwhen Kind turned he saw his brother coming with the bag and shears, but\nnot a single ewe was to be seen. Clutch's first question was, what had\nbecome of them; and when Kind told him what he saw, the eldest brother\nscolded him for not watching better.\n\n\"Now we have not a single sheep,\" said he, \"and the other shepherds will\nhardly give us room among them at shearing time or harvest. If you like\nto come with me, we shall get service somewhere. I have heard my father\nsay that there were great shepherds living in old times beyond the\nhills; let us go and see if they will take us for sheep-boys.\"\n\nAccordingly, next morning Clutch took his bag and shears, Kind took his\ncrook and pipe, and away they went over the plain and up the hills. All\nwho saw them thought that they had lost their senses, for no shepherd\nhad gone there for a hundred years, and nothing was to be seen but wide\nmoorlands, full of rugged rocks, and sloping up, it seemed, to the very\nsky.\n\nBy noon they came to the stony cleft up which the three old ewes had\nscoured like deer; but both were tired, and sat down to rest. As they\nsat there, there came a sound of music down the hills as if a thousand\nshepherds had been playing on their pipes. Clutch and Kind had never\nheard such music before, and, getting up, they followed the sound up the\ncleft, and over a wide heath, till at sunset they came to the hill-top,\nwhere they saw a flock of thousands of snow-white sheep feeding, while\nan old man sat in the midst of them playing merrily on his pipe.\n\n\"Good father,\" said Kind, for his eldest brother hung back and was\nafraid, \"tell us what land is this, and where we can find service; for\nmy brother and I are shepherds, and can keep flocks from straying,\nthough we have lost our own.\"\n\n\"These are the hill pastures,\" said the old man, \"and I am the ancient\nshepherd. My flocks never stray, but I have employment for you. Which of\nyou can shear best?\"\n\n\"Good father,\" said Clutch, taking courage, \"I am the closest shearer in\nall the plain country; you would not find enough wool to make a thread\non a sheep when I have done with it.\"\n\n\"You are the man for my business,\" said the old shepherd. \"When the moon\nrises, I will call the flock you have to shear.\"\n\nThe sun went down and the moon rose, and all the snow-white sheep laid\nthemselves down behind him. Then up the hills came a troop of shaggy\nwolves, with hair so long that their eyes could scarcely be seen. Clutch\nwould have fled for fear, but the wolves stopped, and the old man said:\n\n\"Rise and shear--this flock of mine have too much wool on them.\"\n\nClutch had never shorn wolves before, yet he went forward bravely; but\nthe first of the wolves showed its teeth, and all the rest raised such a\nhowl that Clutch was glad to throw down his shears and run behind the\nold man for safety.\n\n\"Good father,\" cried he, \"I will shear sheep, but not wolves!\"\n\n\"They must be shorn,\" said the old man, \"or you go back to the plains,\nand them after you; but whichever of you can shear them will get the\nwhole flock.\"\n\nOn hearing this, Kind caught up the shears Clutch had thrown away in his\nfright, and went boldly up to the nearest wolf. To his great surprise,\nthe wild creature seemed to know him, and stood quietly to be shorn.\nKind clipped neatly, but not too closely, and when he had done with one,\nanother came forward, till the whole flock were shorn. Then the man\nsaid:\n\n\"You have done well; take the wool and the flock for your wages, return\nwith them to the plain, and take this brother of yours for a boy to keep\nthem.\"\n\nKind did not much like keeping wolves, but before he could answer they\nhad all changed into the very sheep which had strayed away, and the hair\nhe had cut off was now a heap of fine and soft wool.\n\nClutch gathered it up in his bag, and went back to the plain with his\nbrother. They keep the sheep together till this day, but Clutch has\ngrown less greedy, and Kind alone uses the shears.\n\n\n\n\nTHE COBBLERS AND THE CUCKOO\n\n\nOnce upon a time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor, in the North\nCountry, a certain village; all its inhabitants were poor, for their\nfields were barren, and they had little trade. But the poorest of them\nall were two brothers called Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler's\ncraft, and had but one stall between them. It was a hut built of clay\nand wattles. There they worked in most brotherly friendship, though with\nlittle encouragement.\n\nThe people of that village were not extravagant in shoes, and better\ncobblers than Scrub and Spare might be found. Nevertheless, Scrub and\nSpare managed to live between their own trade, a small barley-field, and\na cottage-garden, till one unlucky day when a new cobbler arrived in the\nvillage. He had lived in the capital city of the kingdom, and, by his\nown account, cobbled for the queen and the princesses. His awls were\nsharp, his lasts were new; he set up his stall in a neat cottage with\ntwo windows.\n\nThe villagers soon found out that one patch of his would outwear two of\nthe brothers'. In short, all the mending left Scrub and Spare, and went\nto the new cobbler. So the brothers were poor that winter, and when\nChristmas came they had nothing to feast on but a barley loaf, a piece\nof musty bacon, and some small beer of their own brewing. But they made\na great fire of logs, which crackled and blazed with red embers, and in\nhigh glee the cobblers sat down to their beer and bacon. The door was\nshut, for there was nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; but the\nhut, strewn with fir boughs, and ornamented with holly, looked cheerful\nas the ruddy blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts.\n\n\"Long life and good fortune to ourselves, brother!\" said Spare. \"I hope\nyou will drink that toast, and may we never have a worse fire on\nChristmas--but what is that?\"\n\nSpare set down the drinking-horn, and the brothers listened astonished,\nfor out of the blazing root they heard \"Cuckoo! cuckoo!\" as plain as\never the spring bird's voice came over the moor on a May morning.\n\n\"It is something bad,\" said Scrub, terribly frightened.\n\n\"May be not,\" said Spare.\n\nAnd out of the deep hole at the side which the fire had not reached flew\na large gray cuckoo, and lit on the table before them. Much as the\ncobblers had been surprised, they were still more so when the bird began\nto speak.\n\n\"Good gentlemen,\" it said slowly, \"can you tell me what season this is?\"\n\n\"It's Christmas,\" answered Spare.\n\n\"Then a merry Christmas to you!\" said the cuckoo. \"I went to sleep in\nthe hollow of that old root one evening last summer, and never woke till\nthe heat of your fire made me think it was summer again; but now, since\nyou have burned my lodging, let me stay in your hut till the spring\ncomes round--I only want a hole to sleep in--and when I go on my travels\nnext summer be assured that I will bring you some present for your\ntrouble.\"\n\n\"Stay, and welcome,\" said Spare.\n\n\"I'll make you a good warm hole in the thatch. But you must be hungry\nafter that long sleep. Here is a slice of barley bread. Come, help us to\nkeep Christmas!\"\n\nThe cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water from the brown jug--for he\nwould take no beer--and flew into a snug hole which Spare scooped for\nhim in the thatch of the hut. So the snow melted, the heavy rains came,\nthe cold grew less, the days lengthened, and one sunny morning the\nbrothers were awakened by the cuckoo shouting its own cry to let them\nknow that at last the spring had come.\n\n\"Now,\" said the bird, \"I am going on my travels over the world to tell\nmen of the spring. There is no country where trees bud or flowers bloom\nthat I will not cry in before the year goes round. Give me another slice\nof barley bread to keep me on my journey, and tell me what present I\nshall bring you at the end of the twelve months.\"\n\n\"Good Master Cuckoo,\" said Scrub, \"a diamond or pearl would help such\npoor men as my brother and I to provide something better than barley\nbread for your next entertainment.\"\n\n\"I know nothing of diamonds or pearls,\" said the cuckoo; \"they are in\nthe hearts of rocks and the sands of rivers. My knowledge is only of\nthat which grows on the earth. But there are two trees hard by the well\nthat lies at the world's end. One of them is called the golden tree, for\nits leaves are all of beaten gold. As for the other, it is always green,\nlike a laurel. Some call it the wise, and some the merry tree. Its\nleaves never fall, but they that get one of them keep a blithe heart in\nspite of all misfortunes, and can make themselves as merry in a poor hut\nas in a handsome palace.\"\n\n\"Good Master Cuckoo, bring me a leaf off that tree!\" cried Spare.\n\n\"Now, brother, don't be foolish!\" said Scrub. \"Think of the leaves of\nbeaten gold! Dear Master Cuckoo, bring me one of them.\"\n\nBefore another word could be spoken, the cuckoo had flown.\n\nThe brothers were poorer than ever that year; nobody would send them a\nsingle shoe to mend. The new cobbler said, in scorn, they should come to\nbe his apprentices; and Scrub and Spare would have left the village but\nfor their barley field, their cabbage garden, and a maid called\nFairfeather, whom both the cobblers had courted for more than seven\nyears.\n\nAt the end of the winter Scrub and Spare had grown so poor and ragged\nthat Fairfeather thought them beneath her notice. Old neighbors forgot\nto invite them to wedding feasts or merry-makings; and they thought the\ncuckoo had forgotten them, too, when at daybreak, on the first of April,\nthey heard a hard beak knocking at their door, and a voice crying:\n\n\"Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in.\"\n\nSpare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on one side\nof his bill a golden leaf, larger than that of any tree in the North\nCountry; and in the other, one like that of the common laurel, only it\nhad a fresher green.\n\n\"Here!\" it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare.\n\nSo much gold had never been in the cobbler's hands before, and he could\nnot help exulting over his brother.\n\n\"See the wisdom of my choice,\" he said, holding up the large leaf of\ngold. \"As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge. I wonder a\nsensible bird should carry the like so far.\"\n\n\"Good Master Cobbler,\" cried the cuckoo, finishing the slice, \"your\nconclusions are more hasty than courteous. If your brother be\ndisappointed this time, I go on the same journey every year, and, for\nyour hospitable entertainment, will think it no trouble to bring each of\nyou whichever leaf you desire.\"\n\n\"Darling cuckoo,\" cried Scrub, \"bring me a golden one.\"\n\nAnd Spare, looking up from the green leaf on which he gazed, said:\n\n\"Be sure to bring me one from the merry tree.\"\n\nAnd away flew the cuckoo once again.\n\nScrub vowed that his brother was not fit to live with a respectable man;\nand taking his lasts, his awls, and his golden leaf, he left the wattle\nhut, and went to tell the villagers.\n\nThey were astonished at the folly of Spare, and charmed with Scrub's\ngood sense, particularly when he showed them the golden leaf, and told\nthem that the cuckoo would bring him one every spring. The new cobbler\nimmediately took him into partnership; the greatest people sent him\ntheir shoes to mend; Fairfeather smiled graciously upon him, and in the\ncourse of that summer they were married, with a grand wedding feast, at\nwhich the whole village danced, except Spare, who was not invited.\n\nAs for Scrub, he established himself with Fairfeather in a cottage close\nby that of the new cobbler, and quite as fine. There he mended shoes to\neverybody's satisfaction, had a scarlet coat for holidays, and a fat\ngoose for dinner every wedding-day anniversary. Spare lived on in the\nold hut and worked in the cabbage garden. Every day his coat grew more\nragged, and the hut more weather-beaten; but people remarked that he\nnever looked sad or sour; and the wonder was that, from the time they\nbegan to keep his company the tinker grew kinder to the poor ass with\nwhich he traveled the country, the beggar-boy kept out of mischief, and\nthe old woman was never cross to her cat or angry with the children.\n\nI know not how many years passed in this manner, when a certain great\nlord, who owned that village, came to the neighborhood. His castle was\nancient and strong, with high towers and a deep moat. All the country,\nas far as one could see from the highest turret, belonged to this lord;\nbut he had not been there for twenty years, and would not have come\nthen, only he was melancholy.\n\nThe cause of his grief and sorrow was that he had been prime minister at\ncourt, and in high favor, till somebody told the Crown Prince that he\nhad spoken disrespectfully concerning the turning out of his Royal\nHighness's toes, whereon the North Country lord was turned out of\noffice, and banished to his own estate. There he lived for some weeks in\nvery bad temper; but one day in the harvest time his lordship chanced to\nmeet Spare gathering watercresses at a meadow stream, and fell into\ntalk.\n\nHow it was nobody could tell, but from the hour of that discourse the\ngreat lord cast away his melancholy, and went about with a noble train,\nmaking merry in his hall, where all travelers were entertained and all\nthe poor were welcome.\n\nThis strange story soon spread through the North Country, and a great\ncompany came to the cobbler's hut--rich men who had lost their money,\npoor men who had lost their friends, beauties who had grown old, wits\nwho had gone out of fashion--all came to talk with Spare, and, whatever\ntheir troubles, all went home merry. The rich gave him presents, the\npoor gave him thanks.\n\nBy this time his fame had reached the Court. There were a great many\ndiscontented people there besides the King, who had lately fallen into\nill humor because a neighboring princess, with seven islands for her\ndowry, would not marry his eldest son. So a royal messenger was sent to\nSpare, with a command that he should go to court.\n\n\"To-morrow is the first of April,\" said Spare, \"and I will go with you\ntwo hours after sunrise.\"\n\nThe messenger lodged all night at the castle, and the cuckoo came at\nsunrise with the merry leaf.\n\n\"Court is a fine place,\" he said, when the cobbler told him he was\ngoing; \"but I cannot go there--they would lay snares and catch me. So be\ncareful of the leaves I have brought you, and give me a farewell slice\nof barley bread.\"\n\nSpare was sorry to part with the cuckoo, but he gave him a thick slice,\nand, having sewed up the leaves in the lining of his leather doublet, he\nset out with the messenger on his way to the royal court.\n\nHis coming caused great surprise; but scarce had his Majesty conversed\nwith him half an hour when the princess and her seven islands were\nforgotten, and orders given that a feast for all comers should be\nspread in the banquet-hall. The princes of the blood, the great lords\nand ladies, ministers of state, and judges of the land, after that\ndiscoursed with Spare, and the more they talked the lighter grew their\nhearts, so that such changes had never been seen.\n\nAs for Spare, he had a chamber assigned him in the palace, and a seat at\nthe King's table; one sent him rich robes and another costly jewels; but\nin the midst of all his grandeur he still wore the leathern doublet,\nwhich the palace servants thought remarkably mean. One day the King's\nattention being drawn to it by the chief page, his Majesty inquired why\nSpare didn't give it to a beggar. But the cobbler said:\n\n\"High and mighty monarch, this doublet was with me before silk and\nvelvet came--I find it easier to wear than the court cut; moreover, it\nserves to keep me humble, by recalling the days when it was my holiday\ngarment.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"GOOD GENTLEMEN, CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT SEASON THIS IS?\"]\n\nThe King thought this a wise speech, and commanded that no one should\nfind fault with the leathern doublet. So things went, and Spare\nprospered at court until the day when he lost his doublet, of which we\nread in the next story.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MERRY COBBLER AND HIS COAT\n\n\nSpare, the merry cobbler, of whom we read in the last story, was treated\nlike a prince at the King's court; and the news of his good fortune\nreached his brother Scrub in the moorland cottage one first of April,\nwhen the cuckoo came again with two golden leaves.\n\n\"Think of that!\" said Fairfeather. \"Here we are spending our lives in\nthis humdrum place, and Spare making his fortune at court with two or\nthree paltry green leaves! What would they say to our golden ones? Let\nus make our way to the King's palace.\"\n\nScrub thought this excellent reasoning. So, putting on their holiday\nclothes, Fairfeather took her looking-glass and Scrub his drinking-horn,\nwhich happened to have a very thin rim of silver, and, each carrying a\ngolden leaf carefully wrapped up that none might see it till they\nreached the palace, the pair set out in great expectation.\n\nHow far Scrub and Fairfeather journeyed we cannot say, but when the sun\nwas high and warm at noon they came into a wood feeling both tired and\nhungry.\n\n\"Let us rest ourselves under this tree,\" said Fairfeather, \"and look at\nour golden leaves to see if they are quite safe.\"\n\nIn looking at the leaves, and talking of their fine prospects, Scrub and\nFairfeather did not perceive that a very thin old woman had slipped from\nbehind the tree, with a long staff in her hand and a great wallet by her\nside.\n\n\"Noble lord and lady,\" she said, \"will ye condescend to tell me where I\nmay find some water to mix a bottle of mead which I carry in my wallet,\nbecause it is too strong for me?\"\n\nAs the old woman spoke, she pulled out a large wooden bottle such as\nshepherds used in the ancient times, corked with leaves rolled together,\nand having a small wooden cup hanging from its handle.\n\n\"Perhaps ye will do me the favor to taste,\" she said. \"It is only made\nof the best honey. I have also cream cheese and a wheaten loaf here, if\nsuch honorable persons as you would not think it beneath you to eat the\nlike.\"\n\nScrub and Fairfeather became very condescending after this speech. They\nwere now sure that there must be some appearance of nobility about them;\nbesides, they were very hungry, and, having hastily wrapped up the\ngolden leaves, they assured the old woman they were not at all proud,\nnotwithstanding the lands and castles they had left behind them in the\nNorth Country, and would willingly help to lighten the wallet.\n\nThe old woman was a wood-witch; her name was Buttertongue; and all her\ntime was spent in making mead, which, being boiled with curious herbs\nand spells, had the power of making all who drank it fall asleep and\ndream with their eyes open. She had two dwarfs of sons; one was named\nSpy, and the other Pounce. Wherever their mother went, they were not far\nbehind; and whoever tasted her mead was sure to be robbed by the dwarfs.\n\nScrub and Fairfeather sat leaning against the old tree. The cobbler had\na lump of cheese in his hand; his wife held fast a hunch of bread. Their\neyes and mouths were both open, but they were dreaming of great grandeur\nat court, when the old woman raised her shrill voice:\n\n\"What ho, my sons! Come here, and carry home the harvest!\"\n\nNo sooner had she spoken than the two little dwarfs darted out of the\nneighboring thicket.\n\n\"Idle boys!\" cried the mother. \"What have ye done to-day to help our\nliving?\"\n\n\"I have been to the city,\" said Spy, \"and could see nothing. These are\nhard times for us--everybody minds his business so contentedly since\nthat cobbler came. But here is a leathern doublet which his page threw\nout of the window; it's of no use, but I brought it to let you see I was\nnot idle.\" And he tossed down Spare's doublet, with the merry leaves in\nit, which he had been carrying like a bundle on his little back.\n\nTo explain how Spy came by it, it must be said that the forest was not\nfar from the great city where Spare lived in such high esteem. All\nthings had gone well with the cobbler till the King thought that it was\nquite unbecoming to see such a worthy man without a servant. His Majesty\ntherefore appointed one of his own pages to wait upon him. The name of\nthis youth was Tinseltoes, and nobody in all the court had grander\nnotions. Nothing could please him that had not gold or silver about it,\nand his grandmother feared he would hang himself for being appointed\npage to a cobbler. As for Spare, the honest man had been so used to\nserve himself that the page was always in the way, but his merry leaves\ncame to his assistance.\n\nTinseltoes took wonderfully to the new service. Some said it was because\nSpare gave him nothing to do but play at bowls all day on the palace\ngreen. Yet one thing grieved the heart of Tinseltoes, and that was his\nmaster's leathern doublet, and at last, finding nothing better would do,\nthe page got up one fine morning earlier than his master, and tossed the\nleathern doublet out of the window into a lane, where Spy found it.\n\n\"That nasty thing!\" said the old woman. \"Where is the good in it?\"\n\nBy this time Pounce had taken everything of value from Scrub and\nFairfeather--the looking-glass, the silver-rimmed horn, the husband's\nscarlet coat, the wife's gay mantle, and, above all, the golden leaves,\nwhich so rejoiced old Buttertongue and her sons that they threw the\nleathern doublet over the sleeping cobbler for a jest, and went off to\ntheir hut in the heart of the forest.\n\nThe sun was going down when Scrub and Fairfeather awoke from dreaming\nthat they had been made a lord and a lady, and sat clothed in silk and\nvelvet, feasting with the King in his palace hall. It was a great\ndisappointment to find their golden leaves and all their best things\ngone. Scrub tore his hair, and vowed to take the old woman's life; while\nFairfeather lamented sore. But Scrub, feeling cold for want of his coat,\nput on the leathern doublet without asking whence it came.\n\nScarcely was it buttoned on when a change came over him. He addressed\nsuch merry discourse to Fairfeather that, instead of lamentations, she\nmade the wood ring with laughter. Both busied themselves in setting up a\nhut of boughs, in which Scrub kindled a fire with a flint of steel,\nwhich, together with his pipe, he had brought unknown to Fairfeather,\nwho had told him the like was never heard of at court. Then they found a\npheasant's nest at the root of an old oak, made a meal of roasted eggs,\nand went to sleep on a heap of long green grass which they had gathered,\nwith nightingales singing all night long in the old trees about them.\n\nIn the meantime Spare had got up and missed his doublet. Tinseltoes, of\ncourse, said he knew nothing about it. The whole palace was searched,\nand every servant questioned, till all the court wondered why such a\nfuss was made about an old leathern doublet. That very day things\ncame back to their old fashion. Quarrels began among the lords, and\njealousies among the ladies. The King said his subjects did not pay him\nhalf enough taxes, the Queen wanted more jewels, the servants took to\ntheir old bickerings and got up some new ones. Spare found himself\ngetting wonderfully dull, and very much out of place, and nobles began\nto ask what business a cobbler had at the King's table; till at last his\nMajesty issued a decree banishing the cobbler forever from court, and\nconfiscating all his goods in favor of Tinseltoes.\n\nThat royal edict was scarcely published before the page was in full\npossession of his rich chamber, his costly garments, and all the\npresents the courtiers had given him; while Spare was glad to make his\nescape out of the back window, for fear of the angry people.\n\nThe window from which Spare let himself down with a strong rope was that\nfrom which Tinseltoes had tossed the doublet, and as the cobbler came\ndown late in the twilight, a poor woodman, with a heavy load of fagots,\nstopped and stared in astonishment.\n\n\"What's the matter, friend?\" said Spare. \"Did you never see a man coming\ndown from a back window before?\"\n\n\"Why,\" said the woodman, \"the last morning I passed here a leathern\ndoublet came out of that window, and I'll be bound you are the owner of\nit.\"\n\n\"That I am, friend,\" said the cobbler with great eagerness. \"Can you\ntell me which way that doublet went?\"\n\n\"As I walked on,\" the woodman said, \"a dwarf called Spy, bundled it up\nand ran off into the forest.\"\n\nDetermined to find his doublet, Spare went on his way, and was soon\namong the tall trees; but neither hut nor dwarf could he see. At last\nthe red light of a fire, gleaming through a thicket, led him to the door\nof a low hut. It stood half open, as if there was nothing to fear, and\nwithin he saw his brother Scrub snoring loudly on a bed of grass, at the\nfoot of which lay his own leathern doublet; while Fairfeather, in a\nkirtle made of plaited rushes, sat roasting pheasants' eggs by the fire.\n\n\"Good evening, mistress!\" said Spare.\n\nThe blaze shone on him, but so changed was her brother-in-law with his\ncourt life that Fairfeather did not know him, and she answered far more\ncourteously than was her wont.\n\n\"Good evening, master! Whence come ye so late? But speak low, for my\ngood man has sorely tired himself cleaving wood, and is taking a sleep,\nas you see, before supper.\"\n\n\"A good rest to him,\" said Spare, perceiving he was not known. \"I come\nfrom the court for a day's hunting, and have lost my way in the\nforest.\"\n\n\"Sit down and have a share of our supper,\" said Fairfeather; \"I will put\nsome more eggs in the ashes; and tell me the news of court.\"\n\n\"Did you never go there?\" said the cobbler. \"So fair a dame as you would\nmake the ladies marvel.\"\n\n\"You are pleased to flatter,\" said Fairfeather; \"but my husband has a\nbrother there, and we left our moorland village to try our fortune also.\nAn old woman enticed us with fair words and strong drink at the entrance\nof this forest, where we fell asleep and dreamt of great things; but\nwhen we woke everything had been robbed from us, and, in place of all,\nthe robbers left him that old leathern doublet, which he has worn ever\nsince, and never was so merry in all his life, though we live in this\npoor hut.\"\n\n\"It is a shabby doublet, that,\" said Spare, taking up the garment, and\nseeing that it was his own, for the merry leaves were still sewed in its\nlining. \"It would be good for hunting in, however. Your husband would be\nglad to part with it, I dare say, in exchange for this handsome cloak.\"\nAnd he pulled off the green mantle and buttoned on the doublet, much to\nFairfeather's delight, for she shook Scrub, crying:\n\n\"Husband, husband, rise and see what a good bargain I have made!\"\n\nScrub rubbed his eyes, gazed up at his brother, and said:\n\n\"Spare, is that really you? How did you like the court, and have you\nmade your fortune?\"\n\n\"That I have, brother,\" said Spare, \"in getting back my own good\nleathern doublet. Come, let us eat eggs, and rest ourselves here this\nnight. In the morning we will return to our own old hut, at the end of\nthe moorland village, where the Christmas cuckoo will come and bring us\nleaves.\"\n\nScrub and Fairfeather agreed. So in the morning they all returned, and\nfound the old hut little the worse for wear and weather. The neighbors\ncame about them to ask the news of court, and see if they had made their\nfortune. Everybody was astonished to find the three poorer than ever,\nbut somehow they liked to be back to the hut. Spare brought out the\nlasts and awls he had hidden in a corner; Scrub and he began their old\ntrade, and the whole North Country found out that there never were\nsuch cobblers. Everybody wondered why the brothers had not been more\nappreciated before they went away to the court of the King, but, from\nthe highest to the lowest, all were glad to have Spare and Scrub back\nagain.\n\nThey mended the shoes of lords and ladies as well as the common people;\neverybody was satisfied. Their custom increased from day to day, and all\nthat were disappointed, discontented, or unlucky, came to the hut as in\nold times, before Spare went to court.\n\nThe hut itself changed, no one knew how. Flowering honeysuckle grew over\nits roof; red and white roses grew thick about its door. Moreover, the\nChristmas cuckoo always came on the first of April, bringing three\nleaves of the merry tree--for Scrub and Fairfeather would have no more\ngolden ones. So it was with them when the last news came from the North\nCountry.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\n \"Here you have the faery songs, the golden, glad, and airy songs,\n When all the world was morning, and when every heart was true;\n Songs of darling Childhood, all a-wander in the wildwood--\n Songs of life's first loveliness--songs that speak of you!\"\n\n Thomas Burke\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF CHILD CHARITY\n\nBY FRANCES BROWNE\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a little girl who had neither father nor\nmother: they both died when she was very young, and left their daughter\nto the care of her uncle, who was the richest farmer in all that\ncountry. He had houses and lands, flocks and herds, many servants to\nwork about his house and fields, a wife who had brought him a great\ndowry, and two fair daughters.\n\nNow, it happened that though she was their near relation, they despised\nthe orphan girl, partly because she had no fortune, and partly because\nof her humble, kindly disposition. It was said that the more needy and\ndespised any creature was, the more ready was she to befriend it; on\nwhich account the people of the West Country called her Child Charity.\nHer uncle would not own her for his niece, her cousins would not keep\nher company, and her aunt sent her to work in the dairy, and to sleep in\nthe back garret. All the day she scoured pails, scrubbed dishes, and\nwashed crockery-ware; but every night she slept in the back garret as\nsound as a princess could sleep in her palace.\n\nOne day during the harvest season, when this rich farmer's corn had been\nall cut down and housed, he invited the neighbors to a harvest supper.\nThe West Country people came in their holiday clothes, and they were\nmaking merry, when a poor old woman came to the back door, begging for\nbroken victuals and a night's lodging. Her clothes were coarse and\nragged; her hair was scanty and gray; her back was bent; her teeth were\ngone. In short she was the poorest and ugliest old woman that ever came\nbegging. The first who saw her was the kitchen-maid, and she ordered\nher off; but Child Charity, hearing the noise, came out from her seat at\nthe foot of the lowest table, and asked the old woman to take her share\nof the supper, and sleep that night in her bed in the back garret. The\nold woman sat down without a word of thanks. Child Charity scraped the\npots for her supper that night, and slept on a sack among the lumber,\nwhile the old woman rested in her warm bed; and next morning, before the\nlittle girl awoke, she was up and gone, without so much as saying thank\nyou.\n\nNext day, at supper-time, who should come to the back door but the old\nwoman, again asking for broken victuals and a night's lodging. No one\nwould listen to her, till Child Charity rose from her seat and kindly\nasked her to take her supper, and sleep in her bed. Again the old woman\nsat down without a word. Child Charity scraped the pots for her supper,\nand slept on the sack. In the morning the old woman was gone; but for\nsix nights after, as sure as the supper was spread, there was she at the\ndoor, and the little girl regularly asked her in.\n\nSometimes the old woman said, \"Child, why don't you make this bed\nsofter? and why are your blankets so thin?\" But she never gave her a\nword of thanks nor a civil good-morning. At last, on the ninth night\nfrom her first coming, her accustomed knock came to the door, and there\nshe stood with an ugly dog that no herd-boy would keep.\n\n\"Good-evening, my little girl,\" she said, when Child Charity opened the\ndoor. \"I will not have your supper and bed to-night--I am going on a\nlong journey to see a friend; but here is a dog of mine, whom nobody in\nall the West Country will keep for me. He is a little cross, and not\nvery handsome; but I leave him to your care till the shortest day in all\nthe year.\"\n\nWhen the old woman had said the last word, she set off with such speed\nthat Child Charity lost sight of her in a minute. The ugly dog began to\nfawn upon her, but he snarled at everybody else. It was with great\ntrouble that Child Charity got leave to keep him in an old ruined\ncow-house. The little girl gave him part of all her meals; and when the\nhard frost came, took him to her own back garret, because the cow-house\nwas damp and cold in the long nights. The dog lay quietly on some straw\nin a corner. Child Charity slept soundly, but every morning the servants\nsaid to her:\n\n\"What great light and fine talking was that in your back garret?\"\n\n\"There was no light but the moon shining in through the shutterless\nwindow, and no talk that I heard,\" said Child Charity, and she thought\nthey must have been dreaming. But night after night, when any of them\nawoke in the dark, they saw a light brighter and clearer than the\nChristmas fire, and heard voices like those of lords and ladies in the\nback garret.\n\nAt length, when the nights were longest, the little parlor-maid crept\nout of bed when all the rest were sleeping, and set herself to watch\nat the keyhole. She saw the dog lying quietly in the corner, Child\nCharity sleeping soundly in her bed, and the moon shining through the\nshutterless window; but an hour before daybreak the window opened, and\nin marched a troop of little men clothed in crimson and gold. They\nmarched up with great reverence to the dog, where he lay on the straw,\nand the most richly clothed among them said:\n\n\"Royal Prince, we have prepared the banquet hall. What will your\nHighness please that we do next?\"\n\n\"You have done well,\" said the dog. \"Now prepare the feast, and see that\nall things are in the best style, for the Princess and I mean to bring a\nstranger, who never feasted in our halls before.\"\n\n\"Your Highness's commands shall be obeyed,\" said the little man, making\nanother reverence; and he and his company passed out of the window.\nBy-and-by there came in a company of little ladies clad in rose-colored\nvelvet, and each carrying a crystal lamp. They also walked with great\nreverence up to the dog, and the gayest among them said:\n\n\"Royal Prince, we have prepared the tapestry. What will your Highness\nplease that we do next?\"\n\n\"You have done well,\" said the dog. \"Now prepare the robes, and let all\nthings be in the first fashion, for the Princess and I will bring with\nus a stranger, who never feasted in our halls before.\"\n\n\"Your Highness's commands shall be obeyed,\" said the little lady, making\na low curtsey; and she and her company passed out through the window,\nwhich closed quietly behind them. The dog stretched himself out upon the\nstraw, the little girl turned in her sleep, and the moon shone in on the\nback garret. The parlor-maid was much amazed, and told the story to her\nmistress; but her mistress called her a silly girl to have such foolish\ndreams, and scolded her.\n\nNevertheless, Child Charity's aunt thought there might be something in\nit worth knowing; so next night, when all the house was asleep she\ncrept out of bed, and watched at the back garret door. There she saw\nexactly what the maid had told her.\n\nThe mistress could not close her eyes any more than the maid, from\neagerness to tell the story. She woke up Child Charity's rich uncle\nbefore daybreak; but when he heard it he laughed at her for a foolish\nwoman. But that night the master thought he would like to see what went\non in the back garret; so when all the house was asleep he set himself\nto watch at the crevice in the door. The same thing happened that the\nmaid and the mistress saw.\n\nThe master could not close his eyes any more than the maid or the\nmistress for thinking of this strange sight. He remembered having heard\nhis grandfather say that somewhere near his meadows there lay a path,\nwhich led to the fairies' country, and he concluded that the doings in\nhis back garret must be fairy business, and the ugly dog a person of\nvery great account.\n\nAccordingly, he made it his first business that morning to get ready a\nfine breakfast of roast mutton for the ugly dog, and carry it to him\nin the old cow-house; but not a morsel would the dog taste. On the\ncontrary, he snarled at the master, and would have bitten him if he had\nnot run away with his mutton.\n\nJust as the family were sitting down to supper that night, the ugly dog\nbegan to bark, and the old woman's knock was heard at the back door.\nChild Charity opened it, when the old woman said:\n\n\"This is the shortest day in all the year, and I am going home to hold a\nfeast after my travels. I see you have taken good care of my dog, and\nnow, if you will come with me to my house, he and I will do our best to\nentertain you. Here is our company.\"\n\nAs the old woman spoke, there was a sound of far-off flutes and bugles,\nthen a glare of lights; and a great company, clad so grandly that they\nshone with gold and jewels, came in open chariots, covered with gilding\nand drawn by snow-white horses. The first and finest of the chariots was\nempty. The old woman led Child Charity to it by the hand, and the ugly\ndog jumped in before her. No sooner were the old woman and her dog\nwithin the chariot than a marvelous change passed over them, for the\nugly old woman turned at once to a beautiful young Princess, while the\nugly dog at her side started up a fair young Prince, with nut-brown hair\nand a robe of purple and silver.\n\n\"We are,\" said they, as the chariots drove on, and the little girl sat\nastonished, \"a Prince and Princess of Fairy-land; and there was a wager\nbetween us whether or not there were good people still to be found in\nthese false and greedy times. One said 'Yes,' and the other said 'No';\nand I have lost,\" said the Prince, \"and must pay for the feast and\npresents.\"\n\nChild Charity went with that noble company into a country such as she\nhad never seen. They took her to a royal palace, where there was nothing\nbut feasting and dancing for seven days. She had robes of pale-green\nvelvet to wear, and slept in a chamber inlaid with ivory. When the feast\nwas done, the Prince and Princess gave her such heaps of gold and jewels\nthat she could not carry them, but they gave her a chariot to go home\nin, drawn by six white horses, and on the seventh night, when the\nfarmer's family had settled in their own minds that she would never\ncome back, and were sitting down to supper, they heard the sound of her\ncoachman's bugle, and saw her alight with all the jewels and gold at the\nvery back door where she had brought in the ugly old woman. The fairy\nchariot drove away, and never came back to that farmhouse after. But\nChild Charity scrubbed and scoured no more, for she became a great lady\neven in the eyes of her proud cousins, who were now eager to pay her\nhomage.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SELFISH GIANT\n\nBY OSCAR WILDE\n\n\nEvery afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to\ngo and play in the Giant's garden.\n\nIt was a large, lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there\nover the grass stood beautiful flower-like stars; and there were twelve\npeach-trees that in the Springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of\npink and pearl, and in the Autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the\ntrees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in\norder to listen to them. \"How happy we are here!\" they cried to each\nother.\n\nOne day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish\nOgre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years\nwere over he had said all that he had to say, and he determined to\nreturn to his own castle. When he arrived, he saw the children playing\nin the garden.\n\n\"What are you doing there?\" he cried in a gruff voice, and the children\nran away.\n\n\"My own garden is my own garden,\" said the Giant; \"anyone can understand\nthat, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.\" So he built a\nhigh wall all around it, and put up a notice board:\n\n TRESPASSERS\n WILL BE\n PROSECUTED\n\nHe was a very selfish Giant.\n\nThe poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the\nroad, but the road was very dusty, and full of hard stones, and they did\nnot like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons\nwere over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. \"How happy we\nwere there,\" they said to one another.\n\nThen the Spring came, and all over the country there were little\nblossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it\nwas still Winter. The birds did not care to sing in it, as there were no\nchildren; and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put\nits head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice board it was so\nsorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and\nwent off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and\nthe Frost. \"Spring has forgotten this garden,\" they cried \"so we will\nlive here all the year round.\" The Snow covered up the grass with her\ngreat white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver. Then they\ninvited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in\nfurs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots\ndown. \"This is a delightful spot,\" he said, \"we must ask the Hail on a\nvisit.\" So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the\nroof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran\nround the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in gray, and his\nbreath was like ice.\n\n\"I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,\" said the\nSelfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold, white\ngarden; \"I hope there will be a change in the weather.\"\n\nBut the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit\nto every garden, but to the Giant's garden she gave none. \"He is too\nselfish,\" she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind,\nand the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the\ntrees.\n\nOne morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely\nmusic. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the\nKing's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing\noutside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in\nhis garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the\nworld. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind\nceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open\ncasement. \"I believe the Spring has come at last,\" said the Giant; and\nhe jumped out of bed and looked out.\n\nWhat did he see?\n\nHe saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the\nchildren had crept in and they were sitting in the branches of trees. In\nevery tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees\nwere so glad to have the children back again that they had covered\nthemselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the\nchildren's heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with\ndelight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and\nlaughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Winter.\nIt was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a\nlittle boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches\nof the tree, and he was wandering all around it, crying bitterly. The\npoor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North\nWind was blowing and roaring above it. \"Climb up! little boy,\" said the\ntree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was\ntoo tiny.\n\nAnd the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. \"How selfish I have\nbeen!\" he said; \"now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will\nput that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock\ndown the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever\nand ever.\" He was really very sorry for what he had done.\n\nSo he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went\nout into the garden. But when the children saw him they all ran away.\nOnly the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that\nhe did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and\ntook him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree\nbroke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the\nlittle boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's\nneck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the\nGiant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came\nthe Spring. \"It is your garden now, little children,\" said the Giant,\nand he took a great ax and knocked down the wall. And when the people\nwere going to market at 12 o'clock they found the Giant playing with the\nchildren in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.\n\nAll day long they played, and in the evening they came to the Giant to\nbid him good-by.\n\n\"But where is your little companion?\" he said, \"the boy I put into the\ntree.\" The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.\n\n\"We don't know,\" answered the children; \"he has gone away.\"\n\n\"You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,\" said the Giant.\nBut the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had\nnever seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad.\n\nEvery afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with\nthe Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again.\nThe Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first\nlittle friend, and often spoke of him. \"How I would like to see him!\" he\nused to say.\n\nYears went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not\nplay about any more, so he sat in a huge, armchair, and watched the\nchildren at their games, and admired his garden. \"I have many beautiful\nflowers,\" he said, \"but the children are the most beautiful of all.\"\n\nOne winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He\ndid not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring\nasleep, and that the pretty flowers were resting.\n\nSuddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It\ncertainly was a marvelous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden\nwas a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were\nall golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it\nstood the little boy he had loved.\n\nDownstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He\nhastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came\nquite close his face grew red with anger, and he said: \"Who hath dared\nto wound thee?\" For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of\ntwo nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.\n\n\"Who hath dared to wound thee?\" cried the Giant; \"tell me, that I may\ntake my big sword and slay him.\"\n\n\"Nay!\" answered the child; \"but these are the wounds of Love.\"\n\n\"Who art thou?\" said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he\nknelt before the little child.\n\nAnd the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him:\n\n\"You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to\nmy garden, which is Paradise.\"\n\nAnd when the children ran in that afternoon they found the Giant lying\ndead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN]\n\n\n\n\n THE BATTLE OF THE BIRDS,\n OR, THE GRATEFUL RAVEN AND THE PRINCE\n\n_A Scotch Tale_\n\n\nOnce upon a time a great contest took place between every wild creature.\nThe son of the King of Tethertown went to see the battle; but he arrived\nlate, and saw only one fight. This was between a huge Raven and a Snake.\nThe King's son ran to aid the Raven, and with one blow took the head off\nthe Snake. The Raven was very grateful, and said: \"Now, I will give thee\na sight; come upon my wings.\"\n\nThey flew over seven mountains, seven glens, and seven moors. That\nnight, at the Raven's request, the King's son slept in the house of\none of the Raven's sisters. He was to meet the Raven next morning for\nanother trip; and for three days they journeyed. On the third morning a\nhandsome boy, who was carrying a bundle, came to meet the King's son.\n\nThis boy told how he had been under a spell; and he was at once released\nfrom it by the power of the King's son. In return, he gave him the\nbundle which he carried, and cautioned him not to open it until he found\nthe place where he desired to dwell.\n\nOn the homeward trip the bundle became very heavy, and the King's son\nstopped in a grove to open it. Immediately a beautiful castle sprang\nup before him. He was very sorry, for he wanted to live in the glen\nopposite his father's palace. Just then a Giant appeared and offered to\nput the castle back in the bundle on condition that the Prince give him\nhis first son when he was seven years old. The Prince promised, and soon\nhe had his castle in the right place. At the palace door there was a\nbeautiful maiden, who asked him to marry her. The wedding took place at\nonce, and all were happy.\n\nBefore many years they had a son; and then the Prince, who was now King,\nremembered his promise to the Giant. When the boy was seven years old\nthe Giant came to claim him. The Queen said she would save her child.\nShe dressed the cook's son in fine clothes, and gave him to the Giant.\nBut the Giant feared some treachery, and said to the boy: \"If thy father\nhad a rod what would he do with it?\"\n\n\"He would beat the dogs if they went near the King's meat,\" answered the\nboy.\n\nThen the Giant knew he had been deceived, and he went again to the\npalace. Again the Queen tried to trick him by giving him the butler's\nson. When the Giant found he had been fooled a second time, he stalked\nback to the castle, and made a terrible scene. The castle shook under\nthe soles of his feet as he cried: \"Out here with thy son, or the stone\nthat is highest in thy dwelling shall be the lowest.\" So, in great fear,\nthe Queen gave her son to the Giant.\n\nThe lad lived many years in the Giant's home. On a certain holiday, when\nthe Giant was away, the boy heard sweet music. Looking up the stairs he\nsaw a beautiful little maiden. She beckoned to him to come to her, then\nsaid: \"To-morrow you may choose between my two sisters for your bride;\nbut, I pray you, say you will take only me. My father is forcing me to\nmarry a Prince whom I hate.\"\n\nOn the morrow the Giant said: \"Now, Prince, you may go home to-morrow,\nand take with you either of my two eldest daughters as your wife.\"\n\nThe Giant was very angry when the Prince said: \"I want only the pretty\nlittle one.\"\n\nThe Giant in a great rage imposed three tasks upon the King's son. He\nhad to clean a byre, or cow-shed, which had not been cleaned for seven\nyears. Secondly, he was to thatch the byre with bird's down; and lastly,\nhe must climb a tall fir-tree and bring five eggs, unbroken, from the\nmagpie's nest for the Giant's breakfast. These tasks were too great for\nany mortal to accomplish, but the youth was willing to try.\n\nHe worked all morning on the dirty byre, and accomplished practically\nnothing. At noon, while he was resting under a tree, the Giant's\ndaughter came and talked to him. In utter dejection he showed her\nthe impossibility of completing the task by nightfall. With words of\nsympathy and encouragement, she left him and went on her way. After she\nhad gone, the Prince in great weariness fell asleep under the tree.\n\nIt was evening before he awoke. His first thought was of the unfinished\ntask, and he jumped to his feet, though only half awake. He looked at\nthe byre, and then he rubbed his eyes; and then he looked at the byre\nagain, for, lo! it was clean. Some one had come to his aid while he\nslept. When the Giant came home, he knew the King's son had not cleaned\nthe byre, but he could not prove it, so he had to keep his word.\n\nThe second and third tasks were done in much the same way. The Prince\nwould try very hard to do the work alone, and when he was just about to\nfail the Giant's daughter would come and encourage the youth.\n\nIn getting the eggs from the magpie's nest, the Giant's daughter was in\na great hurry, because she felt her father's breath on the back of her\nneck. In her haste she left her little finger in the magpie's nest, but\nthere was no time to go back and get it.\n\nWhen the third task was finished, the Giant ordered them to get ready\nfor the wedding.\n\nThe Giant tried to deceive the King's son at the very last. The three\ndaughters were dressed alike, and brought before him, and he was to\nchoose which one was his promised bride. But the Prince knew her by the\nhand on which the little finger was missing; so all was well.\n\nAfter the wedding the bride and bridegroom went to their chamber. The\nGiant's daughter said: \"Quick! quick! We must fly. My father plans to\nkill you.\"\n\nThen she took an apple and cut it into four parts, two of which she put\non the bed; one piece was placed by the door, and the other outside.\nAfter that was done, they hurried out to the stables, mounted the\nblue-gray filly, and were off.\n\nIn the meantime the Giant was waiting for them to go to sleep. At last\nhe could wait no longer, so he called out: \"Are you asleep yet?\" And the\napple at the head of the bed answered: \"No, we are not asleep.\" He\ncalled out the same thing three more times, and the three other pieces\nof apple answered him the same way. When the piece outside the door\nreplied, the Giant knew he had been fooled, and that the couple had\nfled. He started after them in hot pursuit.\n\nJust at dawn the Giant's daughter said: \"My father is close behind us,\nbecause his breath is burning my neck. Put thy hand in the filly's ear\nand throw behind thee whatever thou findest.\"\n\nThe Prince did so, and at once a thick forest of blackthorn sprang up\nbehind them.\n\nAt noon the Giant's daughter again said: \"I feel my father's breath on\nmy neck.\" So the Prince reached into the filly's ear and took a piece of\nstone, which he threw behind him. At once a huge rock was between them\nand the Giant.\n\nBy evening the Giant was close upon them for the third time. Out of the\nfilly's ear the King's son took a bladder of water, and threw it behind\nhim. A fresh-water lake then stretched twenty miles behind them. By this\ntime the Giant was coming so fast that he could not stop, but plunged\nheadlong into the lake and was drowned.\n\nWhen they approached the Prince's home, the maiden said she would wait\nfor him by the well. \"Go thou and greet thy father, then come back for\nme. But let neither man nor creature kiss thee, or thou wilt forget me.\"\n\nThe youth was welcomed by all his family, but he kissed none of them. As\nmisfortune would have it, however, an old grayhound jumped upon him and\nlicked his face, and then he did not remember the Giant's daughter.\n\nShe waited a long time for his return. After a while she wandered to an\nold Shoemaker's cottage and asked him to take her to the palace, that\nshe might see the newly returned Prince. The Shoemaker, greatly awed by\nher unusual beauty, said: \"Come with me. I am well acquainted with the\nservants at the castle, and will arrange for you to see the company.\"\n\nThe pretty woman attracted much attention at the feast. The gentlefolk\ntook her to the banquet hall and gave her a glass of cordial. Just as\nshe was going to drink, a flame appeared in the glass, and a golden\npigeon and a silver pigeon sprang out of the flame. At the same time,\nthree grains of barley fell upon the floor.\n\nThe two pigeons flew down and ate the barley grains. As they ate, the\ngolden pigeon said: \"Do you remember how I cleaned the byre?\" Three more\ngrains of barley fell to the ground, and the golden pigeon again spoke:\n\"Do you remember how I thatched the byre?\" Still three more grains fell\nto the ground, and the golden pigeon once more spoke: \"Do you remember\nhow I robbed the magpie's nest? I lost my little finger, and I lack it\nstill.\"\n\nThen the King's son remembered, and he sprang and claimed the Giant's\nlittle daughter as his bride.\n\n\n\n\nJACK AND THE BEANSTALK\n\nRETOLD BY MARY LENA WILSON\n\n\nA long, long time ago there was a boy named Jack. He and his mother were\nvery poor, and lived in a tiny cottage. Jack's mother loved him so much\nthat she could never say no to anything he asked. So whenever he wanted\nmoney she gave it to him, until at last all they had was gone. There was\nnothing left with which to buy supper. Then the poor woman began to cry,\nand said to her son:\n\n\"Oh, Jack, there is nothing in the house to eat; and there is no money\nto buy food. You will have to take the old cow to town and sell her. She\nis all we have left.\"\n\nJack felt very bad when he saw his mother crying; so he quickly got the\ncow and started off to town. As he was walking along he passed the\nbutcher, who stopped him and said:\n\n\"Why, Jack! what are you driving your cow away from home for?\" And Jack\nreplied sadly: \"I am taking her to town to sell her.\"\n\nThen he noticed that the butcher held in his hand some colored beans.\nThey were so beautiful he could not keep from staring at them.\n\nNow, the butcher was a very mean man. He knew the cow was worth more\nthan the beans, but he did not believe Jack knew it, so he said: \"You\nlet me have your cow, and I will give you a whole bag of these beans.\"\n\nJack was so delighted that he could hardly wait to get the bag in his\nhand. He ran off home as fast as he could.\n\n\"Oh, mother, mother!\" he shouted, as he reached the house; \"see what I\nhave got for the old cow!\"\n\nThe good lady came hurrying out of the house, but when she saw only a\nbagful of colored beans she was so disappointed to think he had sold her\ncow \"for nothing\" that she flung the beans as far as she could. They\nfell everywhere--on the steps, down the road, and in the garden.\n\nThat night Jack and his mother had to go to bed without anything to eat.\n\nNext morning, when Jack looked out of his window, he could hardly\nbelieve his eyes. In the garden where his mother had thrown some of the\nbeans there were great beanstalks. They were twisted together so that\nthey made a ladder. When Jack ran out to the garden to look more closely\nhe found the ladder reached up, up--'way up into the clouds! It was so\nhigh he could not see the top.\n\nJack was very excited, and called to his mother: \"Mother, dear, come\nquickly! My beans have grown into a beautiful beanstalk ladder that\nreaches to the sky! I am going to climb up and see what is at the top.\"\n\nHour after hour he climbed, until he was so tired he could hardly climb\nany more. At last he came to the end, and peered eagerly over the top to\nsee what was there. Not a thing was to be seen but rocks and bare\nground.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Jack to himself. \"This is a horrid place. I wish I had never\ncome.\"\n\nJust then he saw, hobbling along, a wrinkled, ragged old woman. When she\nreached Jack she looked at him and said:\n\n\"Well, my boy, where did you come from?\"\n\n\"I came up the ladder,\" answered Jack.\n\n [Illustration]\n\nThe old woman looked at him very sharply. \"Do you remember your father?\"\nshe asked.\n\nJack thought this a queer question, but he replied: \"No, I do not.\nWhenever I ask my mother about him she cries, and will not tell me.\"\n\nAt this, the old woman leaned her face very close to Jack's and snapped\nher bright eyes. \"_I will tell you_,\" she said, \"for _I am a Fairy_!\"\n\nThe Fairy smiled. \"Do not be afraid, my dear, for I am a good, good\nFairy. But before I tell you anything, you must promise to do exactly as\nI say.\"\n\nJack promised, and the Fairy began her story.\n\n\"A long while ago, when you were only a tiny baby, your father and\nmother lived in a beautiful house, with plenty of money and servants\nand everything nice. They were very happy, because everyone loved your\nfather for the kind things he did. He always helped people who were poor\nand in trouble.\n\n\"Now, miles and miles away there was a wicked Giant. He was just as bad\nas your father was good. When he heard about your father he decided to\ndo something very terrible. He went to your house and _killed him_. He\nwould have killed you and your mother, too, but she fell down on her\nknees and begged: 'Oh, please do not hurt me and my little baby. Take\nall our treasures, but do not kill us.'\n\n\"Now of course the money was what the Giant really wanted, so he said:\n'If you promise that you will never tell your little boy who his father\nwas, or anything about me, I will let you go. If you do tell him, I\nshall find out and kill you both.'\n\n\"Your mother quickly promised, and ran out of the house as fast as she\ncould. All day long she hurried over the rough roads with you in her\narms. At last, when she could hardly walk a step further, she came to\nthe little house where you live now.\n\n\"Now, my dear Jack. I am your father's good fairy. The reason I could\nnot help him against the wicked Giant was because I had done something\nwrong. When a fairy does something wrong she loses her power. My power\ndid not come back to me until the day when you went to sell your cow.\nThen _I_ put it into your head to sell the cow for the pretty beans. _I_\nmade the beanstalk grow. _I_ made you climb up the beanstalk.\n\n\"Now, Jack, this is the country where the wicked Giant lives. I had you\ncome here so you could get back your mother's treasure.\"\n\nWhen Jack heard this he was very excited.\n\n\"Follow the road,\" said the Fairy, \"and you will come to the Giant's\nhouse. And do not forget that some day you are to punish the wicked\nGiant.\" And then she disappeared.\n\nJack had not gone far before he came to a great house. In front of it\nstood a little woman. Jack went up to her and said very piteously: \"Oh,\nplease, good, kind lady, let me come in your beautiful house and have\nsomething to eat and a place to sleep.\"\n\nThe woman looked surprised. \"Why, what are you doing here?\" she said.\n\"Don't you know this is where my husband, the terrible Giant, lives? No\none dares to come near here. Every one my husband finds he has locked up\nin his house. Then when he is hungry he _eats them_! He walks fifty\nmiles to find some one to eat.\"\n\nWhen Jack heard this he was very much afraid. But he remembered what the\nFairy had told him, and once more he asked the woman to let him in.\n\n\"Just let me sleep in the oven,\" he said. \"The Giant will never find me\nthere.\"\n\nHe seemed so tired and sad that the woman couldn't say no, and she gave\nhim a nice supper.\n\nThen they climbed a winding stair and reached a bright, cozy kitchen.\nJack was just beginning to enjoy himself, when suddenly there was a\ngreat pounding at the front door.\n\n\"Quick, quick!\" cried the Giant's wife; \"jump into the oven.\"\n\nJack was no sooner safely hidden than he heard the Giant say, in tones\nof thunder:\n\n \"Fee, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman!\"\n\nWhen Jack heard this he thought surely the Giant knew that he was in the\nhouse, but the wife said calmly:\n\n\"Oh, my dear, it is probably the people in the dungeon.\"\n\nThen they both came down to the kitchen. The Giant sat so close to the\noven that by peeping through a hole, Jack could easily see him. He _was\nenormous_! And how much he did eat and drink for his supper! When at\nlast he was through, he roared:\n\n\"Wife, bring me my hen!\" And the woman brought in a beautiful hen.\n\n\"Lay!\" commanded the Giant; and what was Jack's surprise when the hen\nlaid a golden egg. Every time the Giant said: \"Lay!\"--and he said it\nmany times--the hen obeyed.\n\nAt last both the woman and her husband fell asleep. But Jack did not\ndare to sleep. He sat all cramped and tired in the oven, watching the\nGiant.\n\nWhen it began to get light he slowly pushed the oven door open and\ncrawled out ever so softly. For a minute he hardly dared breathe for\nfear of waking the Giant. Then quick as a flash, he seized the hen and\nstole out of the house as fast as his feet could carry him.\n\nHe did not stop running until he reached the beanstalk. All out of\nbreath, he climbed down the ladder with the hen in his arms.\n\nNow, all this time, Jack's poor mother thought her son was surely lost.\nWhen she saw him she said:\n\n\"Oh, Jack, why did you go off and leave me like that?\"\n\n\"But, mother,\" said Jack--and proudly he held out the hen--\"see what I\nhave brought you this time: a hen that lays golden eggs. Now we can\nhave everything we want. You need never be sad any more.\"\n\nJack and his mother were very happy together for many months. Whenever\nthey wanted anything, they just told the hen to lay a golden egg.\n\nBut after a while Jack remembered his promise to the Fairy to punish the\nGiant. So he said to his mother:\n\n\"Mother dear, I think I will go back and get some more of our treasure\nfrom the Giant.\"\n\nThe poor woman felt very bad when her son said this. \"Oh, please do not\ngo, Jack,\" she begged. \"This time the Giant will find you and kill you\nfor stealing his hen.\"\n\nJack decided he would not worry his mother, but he would find a way to\nfool the Giant. He got some paint to color his skin brown and had a\nqueer suit of clothes made so that no one could discover who he was.\nWithout telling anyone, he got up early one morning and climbed up the\nbeanstalk.\n\nIt was dark and cold before he reached the Giant's house. There at the\nfront door was the Giant's wife; but she did not know Jack in his queer\nclothes.\n\n\"Good evening, Lady,\" said Jack, very politely. \"Will you let me in for\na night's rest? I am very tired and hungry.\"\n\nBut the woman shook her head. \"I can't let anyone in. One night I let in\na poor boy like yourself, and he stole my husband's favorite treasure.\nMy husband is a cruel Giant, and since his hen was stolen he has been\nworse than ever.\"\n\n\"Oh, _please_ let me come in just for to-night. If you don't I shall\nhave to lie here on the ground and die.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't let you do that. But mind, I shall have to hide you in\nthe lumber-closet, or my husband may find you and eat you up.\"\n\nOf course, Jack was very glad to agree to do this. As soon as he was\nsafely hidden away he heard a tremendous noise, and knew that the Giant\nhad come home. The big fellow walked so heavily that he shook the whole\nhouse.\n\n \"Fe, fi, fo, fum,\n I smell the blood of an Englishman!\" he shouted.\n\n\"Oh, no, my dear,\" she answered. \"It is an old piece of meat that a crow\nleft on the roof.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the Giant. \"Now, hurry and get my supper.\" And with\nthat he tried to strike his poor wife. Jack could see from where he was\nhiding that the Giant was even uglier than before.\n\n\"It was you who let in the boy that stole my hen,\" he kept saying to\nher. And when Jack heard this he shivered for fear.\n\nAfter his supper the Giant said in a very cross voice:\n\n\"Now, wife, bring me my bags of gold and silver.\"\n\nSo the old woman brought in two huge bags and put them down on the\ntable. The Giant opened each and poured out a great heap of silver and\ngold. For a long while he sat counting the money. But at last he began\nto get drowsy. So he put the gold carefully back and fell over in his\nchair asleep.\n\nJack thought maybe the Giant was only pretending to be asleep, so that\nhe could catch anyone who might try to take his gold. But when the Giant\nhad been snoring some time, the boy carefully opened the door of the\ncloset and tip-toed over to the table. Not a sound could be heard except\nthe terrible snoring of the Giant. Slowly Jack reached out to take the\nbags of money.\n\n\"Bow, wow, wow!\" And a little dog, which Jack had not seen before,\njumped up from a corner by the fire, barking furiously. Jack had never\nbeen so frightened in his life as now. Surely the Giant would wake and\nkill him.\n\nBut the Giant never woke at all. He had eaten so much that he couldn't!\nSo Jack snatched the bags, and dashed for the beanstalk.\n\nWhen at last he reached the bottom, he ran at once to the cottage to\nshow his mother the treasure.\n\nFor three years Jack and his mother lived very happily together. But all\nthis time Jack could not forget his promise to the Fairy, and what might\nhappen to him if he did not keep it.\n\nAt last he felt that he must go and kill the wicked Giant. He got some\nyellow paint and another queer suit, so that he would not look like\nhimself at all. Early one morning, when it was barely light, he crept\nsoftly out of the house and climbed up into the Giant's country.\n\nThis time he was bigger and older, and did not feel nearly so afraid as\nhe had before. He met the Giant's wife, just as he had the two other\ntimes; and after a great deal of coaxing she let him in, and hid him in\nthe boiler.\n\nHe had barely gotten in when he felt the whole house shake, and knew\nthat the Giant had come home.\n\n \"Fe, fi, fo, fum!\n I smell the blood of an Englishman.\"\n\nHe roared in a voice louder than ever. But now Jack was not at all\nscared. He remembered what had happened before, and thought he was\nquite safe.\n\nBut this time the Giant would not listen to anything his wife said. He\njumped up and began stumping around the room, shouting: \"There is fresh\nmeat here! I can smell it! Where is it?\" And he put his hand right on\nthe boiler.\n\nJack held his breath tight, and did not move a muscle. Just when he felt\nsure the Giant was going to lift off the lid and find him, he heard him\nsay: \"Well, never mind now. Bring me my supper.\" And then he went over\nto the table and began to eat.\n\nIt seemed to Jack that he ate more than ever. But suddenly he stopped\nand called out: \"Wife, bring me my harp.\"\n\nThe poor woman ran at once and brought back the most beautiful harp Jack\nhad ever seen. She placed it beside her husband, and he commanded:\n\"Play!\" And the most surprising thing happened: The harp began to play\nthe loveliest tunes without anyone touching it at all. Jack thought he\nhad never seen anything so wonderful, and said to himself:\n\n\"That harp really belongs to my mother. I shall get it away from the\nGiant and take it to her.\"\n\nSoon the Giant fell asleep. Jack crawled very quietly out of the boiler\nand up toward the table. He stretched out his hand to seize the harp;\nbut just as his fingers touched it, it shouted: \"Master, master, wake\nup!\"\n\nJack was horrified, for he saw at once that the harp was the Giant's\nfairy, and was trying to help him.\n\nThe Giant opened his eyes, but before he could get to his feet Jack was\nrunning for his life. Down the winding stair and through the dark hall\nhe went. He felt the floor tremble as the Giant came roaring after him.\nHe was panting for breath when he reached the front door, but did not\ndare to stop. If he did, he knew the Giant would catch him, and that\nwould be the end of him.\n\nAnd this is what surely would have happened, but the Giant had eaten so\nmuch for his supper that he could hardly run at all. Even so, he was\nclose behind him all the way. And all the time he kept roaring and\nshouting, which frightened Jack all the more.\n\nAs soon as Jack reached the beanstalk he called out: \"Someone quick! get\nme a hatchet!\" Then he almost fell down the beanstalk in his hurry.\n\nWhen he reached the bottom the Giant had already started to come down.\n\"Oh, now,\" thought poor Jack, \"he will come and burn our house, and kill\nmy mother and me.\"\n\nJust then a neighbor ran up to Jack with a hatchet. Jack grabbed it and\ncut down the beanstalk! With a terrible crash it fell to the ground,\nbringing the Giant with it.\n\nJack and his friends rushed up to where he fell.\n\n\"Oh, he is dead! He is dead!\" they shouted.\n\nWhen Jack's mother heard this she came running out of the house and\nflung her arms around her son.\n\n\"Oh, mother, I am so sorry that I have been all this trouble to you. But\nI promise I shall never be any more.\" And just at this moment the Fairy\nappeared.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said. \"Your Jack is a good boy. He did all this only because\nI told him to.\" To Jack she said:\n\n\"Now, my dear, I hope you will always be good and kind to your mother.\nAnd I hope you will always be kind to the poor and unhappy people, just\nas your father was. If you are, I am sure that you will both be very\nhappy as long as you live. Good-by, good-by, my dears!\" And before they\ncould thank her the Fairy disappeared.\n\nJack remembered all she had told him, and he and his mother lived\ntogether very happily all the rest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\nTOM THUMB\n\nRETOLD BY LAURA CLARKE\n\n\nHave you ever heard about Little Thumb, or Tom Thumb as he was sometimes\ncalled? Such a queer little fellow, and such adventures, you surely must\nbecome acquainted with.\n\n'Way back in the days of the good King Arthur, there lived a poor man\nand his wife who had no children. They wanted a child more than anything\nelse in the world; and one day the woman said to her husband:\n\n\"Husband, if I had a son, even if he were no bigger than my thumb, I\nshould be the happiest woman alive.\"\n\nNow, Merlin, the King's magician, overheard this wish; and I suspect he\nwas fond of playing tricks, for it was not many days before the woman\nhad a child given her. He was so tiny that his father burst out laughing\nwhen he saw him, and called him Tom Thumb. But the parents were as\nhappy as if he had been a large boy.\n\nTom Thumb had many exciting adventures and narrow escapes, because he\nwas so small. He used to drive his father's horse by standing in the\nhorse's ear and calling out \"Gee up!\" and \"Gee, whoa!\" just like his\nfather. When people saw horse and cart going along at a brisk pace, and\nheard the voice but saw no driver, you may be sure they were surprised.\n\n [Illustration]\n\nOne day two men saw him, and thought they might get rich if they could\nget Tom Thumb, take him to country fairs, and make him do funny things\nto amuse the crowds. They offered Little Thumb's father a sum of gold\nfor the tiny fellow, but the good man said: \"I would not take any sum of\nmoney for my dear son.\"\n\nThen Tom whispered in his father's ear: \"Dear father, take the money and\nlet them have me. I can easily get away and return home.\"\n\nNow, if Tom's father had known what dangers were before the little\nfellow he never would have consented; but it sounded so easy that he\ntook the gold, and the men took Tom.\n\nTom rode on the brim of his new master's hat for a long time, thinking\nhow he might escape. Finally he saw a field-mouse's nest over a hedge,\nand he said: \"Master, I am cold and stiff; put me down that I may run\nabout and get warm.\"\n\nNot suspecting anything, the man put him on the ground. What was his\nsurprise and anger when Little Tom darted off through the hedge. Calling\nto him to come back, the master with difficulty climbed over the bushes\nand started searching for his small runaway. He looked behind stones,\nunder clumps of grass, in little furrows, but never thought of the nest\nof the field-mouse.\n\nLittle Tom stayed very still long after the angry voice had died away in\nthe distance. When he came forth it was dark, and he did not know which\nway to go. He was still trying to make up his mind, when he overheard\ntwo robbers on the other side of the hedge.\n\nThe first robber said: \"There is plenty of gold and silver in the\nrector's house, but his doors are locked and his windows barred.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the other one, \"and if we break in we shall wake up the\nservants.\"\n\nThis conversation gave Tom an idea. Stepping through the hedge he said\nin a loud voice: \"I can help you. I am so small I can get between the\nbars on the window. Then I'll pass all the gold and silver out to you,\nand when I get out you can divide with me.\"\n\n [Illustration]\n\nThe robbers were pleased with the idea. They decided between themselves\nthat as soon as they got the money in their own hands they would make\noff and not divide it at all. They never suspected that Little Thumb was\nplanning to give them away.\n\nReaching the rector's home they lifted Tom up, and he crawled between\nthe bars and out of reach of the robbers.\n\nThen he called out in a very loud voice, so as to waken the servants:\n\"Will you have everything I can get?\" The servants came running\ncalling, \"Thief! Thief!\" and the two robbers escaped as fast as their\nfeet would carry them.\n\nNow, the servants were so angry, and told in such loud voices what they\nshould do if they caught anyone in the house, that Little Thumb was very\nmuch afraid. So he climbed out through the window and hid in the barn in\nthe hay.\n\nIt is best for little people to stay out of harm's way; the queerest\nthings may happen. While our small adventurer was peacefully sleeping,\nthe milkmaid came to give the cattle their morning fodder. As bad luck\nwould have it, she took the very truss of hay in which Tom lay; and he\nawoke with a start to find himself in the cow's great mouth, in danger\nof being crushed at any minute by her tremendous teeth. He dodged back\nand forth in terror; and it was a relief when the cow gave one big\nswallow, and he slid down into her roomy stomach.\n\n [Illustration]\n\nIt was dark and moist down there, however, and more hay came down with\nevery swallow; so Tom called out with all his might: \"No more hay,\nplease! no more hay!\"\n\nThe milkmaid screamed, and ran to the house, telling everyone that the\ncow had been talking to her just like a man.\n\n\"Nonsense,\" said the rector; \"cows do not talk.\" Nevertheless, he went\nto the cow-shed. No sooner had he stepped inside the door than the cow\nlifted her head, and a voice called in great distress: \"No more hay,\nplease! no more hay!\"\n\n\"Alas,\" cried the rector, \"my beautiful cow is bewitched! It is best to\nkill her before she makes mischief with the other cows.\"\n\nSo the cow was slaughtered, and the stomach, with Little Thumb inside,\nwas flung away.\n\n\"Now, I will work my way out and run home,\" thought Tom. But he was to\nhave another adventure first. He had just gotten his head free, when a\nhungry wolf, attracted by the smell of the freshly-killed meat, seized\nthe stomach in its jaws and sprang away into the forest.\n\nInstead of losing courage, Little Thumb began to plan a way of escape.\nHe decided on a bold scheme. In his loudest voice he called: \"Wolf, if\nyou are hungry, I know where you can get a choice dinner.\"\n\n\"Where?\" asked the wolf.\n\n\"There is a house not far away, and I know a hole through which you can\ncrawl into the kitchen. Once there you can eat and drink to your heart's\ncontent.\"\n\nThe wolf did not know that Tom meant his own home; but the mention of\nthese good things to eat made him very hungry, and following Tom's\ndirections he quickly reached the house.\n\nThings were exactly as promised. Tom waited till he was sure the wolf\nhad eaten so much that he could not get out through the hole he came in.\nThen he called from inside the wolf: \"Father, mother, help! I am\nhere--in the wolf's body.\"\n\nIt did not take long for the father to finish the wolf and rescue his\ndear boy.\n\n\"We shall never let you go again, for all the riches of the world,\" said\nthe mother and father. But Tom was rather pleased with his adventures.\n\nOne day, when walking beside the river, he slipped and fell in. Before\nhe had a chance to swim out a fish came along and swallowed him. Tom had\nescaped so often from such dangers that he was not much afraid. After a\ntime the fish saw a dainty worm, and, little thinking that it was on a\nhook, took it in its mouth. Before it realized what had happened it was\npulled out of the water, with Little Thumb still inside.\n\nNow, as luck would have it, this fish was to be for the King's dinner.\nWhen the cook opened the fish to clean it and make it ready for\nbroiling, out stepped Little Thumb, much to the astonishment and delight\nof everyone. The King said he had never seen so tiny and merry a fellow.\nHe knighted him, and had Sir Thomas Thumb and his father and mother live\nin the palace the rest of their lives.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nWHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT\n\n\nIn the reign of the famous King Edward III there was a little boy called\nDick Whittington, whose father and mother died when he was very young,\nso that he remembered nothing at all about them, and was left a ragged\nlittle fellow, running about a country village. As poor Dick was not old\nenough to work, he was very badly off; he got but little for his dinner,\nand sometimes nothing at all for his breakfast; for the people who lived\nin the village were very poor indeed, and could not spare him much more\nthan the parings of potatoes, and now and then a hard crust of bread.\n\nFor all this Dick Whittington was a very sharp boy, and was always\nlistening to what everybody talked about. On Sunday he was sure to\nget near the farmers, as they sat talking on the tombstones in the\nchurchyard, before the parson was come; and once a week you might see\nlittle Dick leaning against the sign-post of the village inn, where\npeople stopped as they came from the next market town; and when the\nbarber's shop door was open, Dick listened to all the news that his\ncustomers told one another.\n\nIn this manner Dick heard a great many very strange things about the\ngreat city called London; for the foolish country people at that time\nthought that folks in London were all fine gentlemen and ladies; and\nthat there was singing and music there all day long; and that the\nstreets were all paved with gold.\n\nOne day a large wagon and eight horses, all with bells at their heads,\ndrove through the village while Dick was standing by the sign-post. He\nthought that this wagon must be going to the fine town of London; so he\ntook courage, and asked the wagoner to let him walk with him by the side\nof the wagon. As soon as the wagoner heard that poor Dick had no father\nor mother, and saw by his ragged clothes that he could not be worse off\nthan he was, he told him he might go if he would, so they set off\ntogether.\n\nIt has never been found out how little Dick contrived to get meat and\ndrink on the road; nor how he could walk so far, for it was a long way;\nnor what he did at night for a place to lie down and sleep. Perhaps some\ngood-natured people in the towns that he passed through, when they saw\nhe was a poor little ragged boy, gave him something to eat; and perhaps\nthe wagoner let him get into the wagon at night, and take a nap upon one\nof the boxes or large parcels in the wagon.\n\nDick however got safe to London, and was in such a hurry to see the fine\nstreets paved all over with gold, that he ran as fast as his legs would\ncarry him, through many of the streets, thinking every moment to come to\nthose that were paved with gold; for Dick had seen a guinea three times\nin his own little village, and remembered what a deal of money it\nbrought in change; so he thought he had nothing to do but to take up\nsome little bits of the pavement, and should then have as much money as\nhe could wish for.\n\nPoor Dick ran till he was tired; but at last, finding it grew dark, and\nthat every way he turned he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he sat\ndown in a dark corner and cried himself to sleep.\n\nLittle Dick was all night in the streets; and next morning, being very\nhungry, he got up and walked about, and asked everybody he met to give\nhim a halfpenny to keep him from starving; but nobody stayed to answer\nhim, and only two or three gave him a halfpenny; so that the poor boy\nwas soon quite weak and faint for the want of food.\n\nAt last a good-natured looking gentleman saw how hungry he looked. \"Why\ndon't you go to work, my lad?\" said he to Dick. \"That I would, but I do\nnot know how to get any,\" answered Dick. \"If you are willing, come along\nwith me,\" said the gentleman, and took him to a hay-field, where Dick\nworked briskly, and lived merrily till the hay was made.\n\nAfter this he found himself as badly off as before; and being almost\nstarved again, he laid himself down at the door of Mr. Fitzwarren, a\nrich merchant. Here he was soon seen by the cook-maid, who was an\nill-tempered creature, and happened just then to be very busy dressing\ndinner for her master and mistress; so she called out to poor Dick:\n\"What business have you there, you lazy rogue? there is nothing else but\nbeggars; if you do not take yourself away, we will see how you will like\na sousing of some dish-water; I have some here hot enough to make you\njump.\"\n\nJust at that time, Mr. Fitzwarren himself came home to dinner; and when\nhe saw a dirty ragged boy lying at the door, he said to him: \"Why do you\nlie there, my boy? You seem old enough to work; I am afraid you are\ninclined to be lazy.\"\n\n\"No, indeed, sir,\" said Dick to him, \"that is not the case, for I would\nwork with all my heart, but I do not know anybody, and I believe I am\nvery sick for the want of food.\" \"Poor fellow, get up; let me see what\nails you.\"\n\nDick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again, being too\nweak to stand, for he had not eaten any food for three days, and was no\nlonger able to run about and beg a halfpenny of people in the street. So\nthe kind merchant ordered him to be taken into the house, and have a\ngood dinner given him, and be kept to do what dirty work he was able for\nthe cook.\n\nLittle Dick would have lived very happy in this good family if it had\nnot been for the ill-natured cook, who was finding fault and scolding\nhim from morning to night, and besides, she was so fond of basting, that\nwhen she had no meat to baste, she would baste poor Dick's head and\nshoulders with a broom, or anything else that happened to fall in her\nway. At last her ill-usage of him was told to Alice, Mr. Fitzwarren's\ndaughter, who told the cook she should be turned away if she did not\ntreat him kinder.\n\nThe ill-humor of the cook was now a little amended; but besides this\nDick had another hardship to get over. His bed stood in a garret, where\nthere were so many holes in the floor and the walls that every night he\nwas tormented with rats and mice. A gentleman having given Dick a penny\nfor cleaning his shoes, he thought he would buy a cat with it. The next\nday he saw a girl with a cat, and asked her if she would let him have it\nfor a penny. The girl said she would, and at the same time told him the\ncat was an excellent mouser.\n\nDick hid his cat in the garret, and always took care to carry a part of\nhis dinner to her; and in a short time he had no more trouble with the\nrats and mice, but slept quite sound every night.\n\nSoon after this, his master had a ship ready to sail; and as he thought\nit right that all his servants should have some chance for good fortune\nas well as himself, he called them all into the parlor and asked them\nwhat they would send out.\n\nThey all had something that they were willing to venture except poor\nDick, who had neither money nor goods, and therefore could send nothing.\n\nFor this reason he did not come into the parlor with the rest; but Miss\nAlice guessed what was the matter, and ordered him to be called in. She\nthen said she would lay down some money for him, from her own purse; but\nthe father told her this would not do, for it must be something of his\nown.\n\nWhen poor Dick heard this, he said he had nothing but a cat which he\nbought for a penny some time since of a little girl.\n\n\"Fetch your cat then, my good boy,\" said Mr. Fitzwarren, \"and let her\ngo.\"\n\nDick went upstairs, and with tears in his eyes brought down poor puss,\nand gave her to the captain.\n\nAll the company laughed at Dick's odd venture; and Miss Alice, who felt\npity for the poor boy, gave him some money to buy another cat.\n\nThis, and many other marks of kindness shown him by Miss Alice, made the\nill-tempered cook jealous of poor Dick, and she began to use him more\ncruelly than ever, and always made game of him for sending his cat to\nsea. She asked him if he thought his cat would sell for as much money as\nwould buy a stick to beat him.\n\nAt last poor Dick could not bear this usage any longer, and he thought\nhe would run away from this place; so he packed up his few things, and\nstarted very early in the morning, on All-hallows Day, which is the\nfirst of November. He walked as far as Holloway; and there sat down on\na stone, which to this day is called Whittington's Stone, and began to\nthink to himself which road he should take as he proceeded onward.\n\nWhile he was thinking what he should do, the Bells of Bow Church, which\nat that time had only six, began to ring, and he fancied their sound\nseemed to say to him:\n\n \"Turn again, Whittington,\n Lord Mayor of London.\"\n\n\"Lord Mayor of London!\" said he to himself. \"Why, to be sure, I would\nput up with almost anything now, to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in\na fine coach, when I grow to be a man! Well, I will go back, and think\nnothing of the cuffing and scolding of the old cook, if I am to be Lord\nMayor of London at last.\"\n\nDick went back, and was lucky enough to get into the house, and set\nabout his work, before the old cook came downstairs.\n\nThe ship, with the cat on board, was a long time at sea; and was at last\ndriven by the winds on a part of the coast of Barbary, where the only\npeople were the Moors, that the English had never known before.\n\nThe people then came in great numbers to see the sailors, who were of\ndifferent color to themselves, and treated them very civilly; and, when\nthey became better acquainted, were very eager to buy the fine things\nwith which the ship was loaded.\n\nWhen the captain saw this, he sent patterns of the best things he had to\nthe King of the country; who was so much pleased with them, that he\nordered the captain to come to the palace. Here the guests were placed,\nas it is the custom of the country, on rich carpets marked with gold and\nsilver flowers. The King and Queen were seated at the upper end of the\nroom; and a number of dishes were brought in for dinner. They had not\nsat long, when a vast number of rats and mice rushed in, helping\nthemselves from almost every dish. The captain wondered at this, and\nasked if these vermin were not very unpleasant.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said they, \"very offensive; and the King would give half his\ntreasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his dinner, as\nyou see, but they assault him in his chamber, and even in bed, so that\nhe is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping for fear of them.\"\n\nThe captain jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat,\nand told the King he had a creature on board the ship that would\ndespatch all these vermin immediately. The King's heart heaved so high\nat the joy which this news gave him that his turban dropped off his\nhead. \"Bring this creature to me,\" says he; \"vermin are dreadful in a\ncourt, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship with\ngold and jewels in exchange for her.\"\n\nThe captain, who knew his business, took this opportunity to set\nforth the merits of Miss Puss. He told his Majesty that it would be\ninconvenient to part with her, as, when she was gone, the rats and mice\nmight destroy the goods in the ship; but to oblige his Majesty he would\nfetch her. \"Run, run!\" said the Queen; \"I am impatient to see the dear\ncreature.\"\n\nAway went the captain to the ship, while another dinner was got ready.\nHe put puss under his arm, and arrived at the place soon enough to see\nthe table full of rats.\n\nWhen the cat saw them, she did not wait for bidding, but jumped out of\nthe captain's arms, and in a few minutes laid almost all the rats and\nmice dead at her feet. The rest of them in their fright scampered away\nto their holes.\n\nThe King and Queen were quite charmed to get so easily rid of such\nplagues, and desired that the creature who had done them so great a\nkindness might be brought to them for inspection. Upon which the captain\ncalled: \"Pussy, pussy, pussy!\" and she came to him. He then presented\nher to the Queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch a creature\nwho had made such a havoc among the rats and mice. However, when the\ncaptain stroked the cat and called: \"Pussy, pussy,\" the Queen also\ntouched her and cried, \"Putty, putty,\" for she had not learned English.\nHe then put her down on the Queen's lap, where she, purring, played with\nher Majesty's hand, and then sung herself to sleep.\n\nThe King, having seen the exploits of Mistress Puss, and being informed\nthat some day she would have some little kitties, which in turn would\nhave other little kitties, and thus stock the whole country, bargained\nwith the captain for the ship's entire cargo, and then gave him ten\ntimes as much for the cat as all the rest amounted to.\n\nThe captain then took leave of the royal party, and set sail with a fair\nwind for England, and after a happy voyage arrived safe in London.\n\nOne morning Mr. Fitzwarren had just come to his counting-house and\nseated himself at the desk, when somebody came tap, tap, at the door.\n\"Who's there?\" asked Mr. Fitzwarren. \"A friend,\" answered the other; \"I\ncome to bring you good news of your ship 'Unicorn.'\" The merchant,\nbustling up instantly, opened the door, and who should be seen waiting\nbut the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels, and a bill of\nlading, for which the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked heaven for\nsending him such a prosperous voyage.\n\nThen they told the story of the cat, and showed the rich present that\nthe King and Queen had sent for her to poor Dick. As soon as the\nmerchant heard this, he called out to his servants:\n\n \"Go fetch him--we will tell him of the same;\n Pray call him Mr. Whittington by name.\"\n\nMr. Fitzwarren now showed himself to be a good man; for when some of his\nservants said so great a treasure was too much for him, he answered:\n\"God forbid I should deprive him of the value of a single penny.\"\n\nHe then sent for Dick, who at that time was scouring pots for the cook,\nand was quite dirty.\n\nMr. Fitzwarren ordered a chair to be set for him, and so he began to\nthink they were making game of him, at the same time begging them not to\nplay tricks with a poor simple boy, but to let him go down again, if\nthey pleased, to his work.\n\n\"Indeed, Mr. Whittington,\" said the merchant, \"we are all quite in\nearnest with you, and I most heartily rejoice in the news these\ngentlemen have brought you; for the captain has sold your cat to the\nKing of Barbary, and brought you in return for her more riches than I\npossess in the whole world; and I wish you may long enjoy them!\"\n\nMr. Fitzwarren then told the men to open the great treasure they had\nbrought with them; and said: \"Mr. Whittington has nothing to do but to\nput it in some place of safety.\"\n\nPoor Dick hardly knew how to behave himself for joy. He begged his\nmaster to take what part of it he pleased, since he owed it all to his\nkindness. \"No, no,\" answered Mr. Fitzwarren, \"this is all your own; and\nI have no doubt but you will use it well.\"\n\nDick next asked his mistress, and then Miss Alice, to accept a part of\nhis good fortune; but they would not, and at the same time told him\nthey felt great joy at his good success. But this poor fellow was too\nkind-hearted to keep it all to himself; so he made a present to the\ncaptain, the mate, and the rest of Mr. Fitzwarren's servants; and even\nto the ill-natured old cook.\n\nAfter this Mr. Fitzwarren advised him to send for a proper tradesman,\nand get himself dressed like a gentleman; and told him he was welcome to\nlive in his house till he could provide himself with a better.\n\nWhen Whittington's face was washed, his hair curled, his hat cocked, and\nhe was dressed in a nice suit of clothes, he was as handsome and genteel\nas any young man who visited at Mr. Fitzwarren's; so that Miss Alice,\nwho had once been so kind to him, and thought of him with pity, now\nlooked upon him as fit to be her sweetheart; and the more so, no doubt,\nbecause Whittington was now always thinking what he could do to oblige\nher, and making her the prettiest presents that could be.\n\nMr. Fitzwarren soon saw their love for each other, and proposed to join\nthem in marriage; and to this they both readily agreed. A day for the\nwedding was soon fixed; and they were attended to church by the Lord\nMayor, the court of aldermen, the sheriffs, and a great number of the\nrichest merchants in London, to whom they afterward gave a very rich\nfeast.\n\nHistory tells us that Mr. Whittington and his lady lived in great\nsplendor, and were very happy. They had several children. He was Sheriff\nof London, also Mayor, and received the honor of knighthood by Henry V.\n\nThe figure of Sir Richard Whittington with his cat in his arms, carved\nin stone, was to be seen till the year 1780 over the archway of the old\nprison of Newgate, that stood across Newgate Street.\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWILD ROBIN\n\n_A Scotch Fairy Tale_\n\nRETOLD BY SOPHIE MAY\n\n\nIn the green valley of the Yarrow, near the castle-keep of Norham, dwelt\nan honest little family, whose only grief was an unhappy son, named\nRobin.\n\nJanet, with jimp form, bonnie eyes, and cherry cheeks, was the best of\ndaughters; the boys, Sandie and Davie, were swift-footed, brave, kind,\nand obedient; but Robin, the youngest, had a stormy temper, and when his\nwill was crossed he became as reckless as a reeling hurricane. Once, in\na passion, he drove two of his father's \"kye,\" or cattle, down a steep\nhill to their death. He seemed not to care for home or kindred, and\noften pierced the tender heart of his mother with sharp words. When she\ncame at night, and \"happed\" the bed-clothes carefully about his form,\nand then stooped to kiss his nut-brown cheeks, he turned away with a\nfrown, muttering: \"Mither, let me be.\"\n\nIt was a sad case with Wild Robin, who seemed to have neither love nor\nconscience.\n\n\"My heart is sair,\" sighed his mother, \"wi' greeting over sich a son.\"\n\n\"He hates our auld cottage and our muckle wark,\" said the poor father.\n\"Ah, weel! I could a'maist wish the fairies had him for a season, to\nteach him better manners.\"\n\nThis the gudeman said heedlessly, little knowing there was any danger of\nRobin's being carried away to Elf-land. Whether the fairies were at that\ninstant listening under the eaves, will never be known; but it chanced,\none day, that Wild Robin was sent across the moors to fetch the kye.\n\n\"I'll rin away,\" thought the boy; \"'t is hard indeed if ilka day a great\nlad like me must mind the kye. I'll gae aff; and they'll think me dead.\"\n\nSo he gaed, and he gaed, over round swelling hills, over old\nbattle-fields, past the roofless ruins of houses whose walls were\ncrowned with tall climbing grasses, till he came to a crystal sheet of\nwater called St. Mary's Loch. Here he paused to take breath. The sky was\ndull and lowering; but at his feet were yellow flowers, which shone, on\nthat gray day, like streaks of sunshine.\n\nHe threw himself wearily upon the grass, not heeding that he had chosen\nhis couch within a little mossy circle known as a \"fairy's ring.\" Wild\nRobin knew that the country people would say the fays had pressed that\ngreen circle with their light feet. He had heard all the Scottish lore\nof brownies, elves, will-o'-the-wisps and the strange water-kelpies, who\nshriek with eldritch laughter. He had been told that the Queen of the\nFairies had coveted him from his birth, and would have stolen him away,\nonly that, just as she was about to seize him from the cradle, he had\n_sneezed_; and from that instant the fairy-spell was over, and she had\nno more control of him.\n\nYet, in spite of all these stories, the boy was not afraid; and if he\nhad been informed that any of the uncanny people were, even now,\nhaunting his footsteps, he would not have believed it.\n\n\"I see,\" said Wild Robin, \"the sun is drawing his nightcap over his\neyes, and dropping asleep. I believe I'll e'en take a nap mysel', and\nsee what comes o' it.\"\n\nIn two minutes he had forgotten St. Mary's Loch, the hills, the moors,\nthe yellow flowers. He heard, or fancied he heard, his sister Janet\ncalling him home.\n\n\"And what have ye for supper?\" he muttered between his teeth.\n\n\"Parritch and milk,\" answered the lassie gently.\n\n\"Parritch and milk! Whist! say nae mair! Lang, lang may ye wait for Wild\nRobin: he'll not gae back for oatmeal parritch!\"\n\nNext a sad voice fell on his ear.\n\n\"Mither's; and she mourns me dead!\" thought he; but it was only the\nfar-off village-bell, which sounded like the echo of music he had heard\nlang syne, but might never hear again.\n\n\"D' ye think I'm not alive?\" tolled the bell. \"I sit all day in my\nlittle wooden temple, brooding over the sins of the parish.\"\n\n\"A brazen lie!\" cried Robin.\n\n\"Nay, the truth, as I'm a living soul! Wae worth ye, Robin Telfer: ye\nthink yersel' hardly used. Say, have your brithers softer beds than\nyours? Is your ain father served with larger potatoes or creamier\nbuttermilk? Whose mither sae kind as yours, ungrateful chiel? Gae to\nElf-land, Wild Robin; and dool and wae follow ye! dool and wae follow\nye!\"\n\nThe round yellow sun had dropped behind the hills; the evening breezes\nbegan to blow; and now could be heard the faint trampling of small\nhoofs, and the tinkling of tiny bridle-bells: the fairies were trooping\nover the ground. First of all rode the Queen.\n\n \"Her skirt was of the grass-green silk,\n Her mantle o' the velvet fine;\n At ilka tress of her horse's mane\n Hung fifty silver bells and nine.\"\n\nBut Wild Robin's closed eyes saw nothing: his sleep-sealed ears heard\nnothing. The Queen of the fairies dismounted, stole up to him, and laid\nher soft fingers on his cheeks.\n\n\"Here is a little man after my ain heart,\" said she: \"I like his knitted\nbrow, and the downward curve of his lips. Knights, lift him gently, set\nhim on a red-roan steed, and waft him away to Fairy-land.\"\n\nWild Robin was lifted as gently as a brown leaf borne by the wind; he\nrode as softly as if the red-roan steed had been saddled with satin,\nand shod with velvet. It even may be that the faint tinkling of the\nbridle-bells lulled him into a deeper slumber; for when he awoke it was\nmorning in Fairy-land.\n\nRobin sprang from his mossy couch, and stared about him. Where was he?\nHe rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Dreaming, no doubt; but what meant\nall these nimble little beings bustling hither and thither in hot haste?\nWhat meant these pearl-bedecked caves, scarcely larger than swallow's\nnests? these green canopies, overgrown with moss? He pinched himself,\nand gazed again. Countless flowers nodded to him, and seemed, like\nhimself, on tip-toe with curiosity, he thought. He beckoned one of the\nbusy, dwarfish little brownies toward him.\n\n\"I ken I'm talking in my sleep,\" said the lad; \"but can ye tell me what\ndell is this, and how I chanced to be in it?\"\n\nThe brownie might or might not have heard; but, at any rate, he deigned\nno reply, and went on with his task, which was pounding seeds in a stone\nmortar.\n\n\"Am I Robin Telfer, of the Valley of Yarrow, and yet canna shake aff my\nsilly dreams?\"\n\n\"Weel, my lad,\" quoth the Queen of the Fairies, giving him a smart tap\nwith her wand, \"stir yersel', and be at work; for naebody idles in\nElf-land.\"\n\nBewildered Robin ventured a look at the little Queen. By daylight she\nseemed somewhat sleepy and tired; and was withal so tiny, that he might\nalmost have taken her between his thumb and finger, and twirled her\nabove his head; yet she poised herself before him on a mullein-stalk and\nlooked every inch a queen. Robin found her gaze oppressive; for her eyes\nwere hard, and cold, and gray, as if they had been little orbs of\ngranite.\n\n\"Get ye to work, Wild Robin!\"\n\n\"What to do?\" meekly asked the boy, hungrily glancing at a few kernels\nof rye which had rolled out of one of the brownie's mortars.\n\n\"Are ye hungry, my laddie? Touch a grain of rye if ye dare! Shell these\ndry beans; and if so be ye're starving, eat as many as ye can boil in an\nacorn-cup.\"\n\nWith these words she gave the boy a withered bean-pod, and, summoning a\nmeek little brownie, bade him see that the lad did not over-fill the\nacorn-cup, and that he did not so much as peck at a grain of rye. Then\nglancing sternly at her prisoner, she withdrew, sweeping after her the\nlong train of her green robe.\n\nThe dull days crept by, and still there seemed no hope that Wild Robin\nwould ever escape from his beautiful but detested prison. He had no\nwings, poor laddie; and he could neither become invisible nor draw\nhimself through a keyhole bodily.\n\nIt is true, he had mortal companions: many chubby babies; many\nbright-eyed boys and girls, whose distracted parents were still seeking\nthem, far and wide, upon the earth. It would almost seem that the\nwonders of Fairy-land might make the little prisoners happy. There were\ncountless treasures to be had for the taking, and the very dust in the\nlittle streets was precious with specks of gold: but the poor children\nshivered for the want of a mother's love; they all pined for the dear\nhome-people. If a certain task seemed to them particularly irksome, the\nheartless Queen was sure to find it out, and oblige them to perform it,\nday after day. If they disliked any article of food, that, and no other,\nwere they forced to eat, or else starve.\n\nWild Robin, loathing his withered beans and unsalted broths, longed\nintensely for one little breath of fragrant steam from the toothsome\nparritch on his father's table, one glance at a roasted potato. He was\nhomesick for the gentle sister he had neglected, the rough brothers\nwhose cheeks he had pelted black and blue; and yearned for the very\nchinks in the walls, the very thatch on the home-roof.\n\nGladly would he have given every fairy flower, at the root of which\nclung a lump of gold ore, if he might have had his own coverlet \"happed\"\nabout him once more by his gentle mother.\n\n [Illustration: \"HERE IS A LITTLE MAN AFTER MY AIN HEART,\" SAID THE\n QUEEN OF THE FAIRIES]\n\n\"Mither,\" he whispered in his dreams, \"my shoon are worn, and my feet\nbleed; but I'll soon creep hame, if I can. Keep the parritch warm for\nme.\"\n\nRobin was as strong as a mountain-goat; and his strength was put to the\ntask of threshing rye, grinding oats and corn, or drawing water from a\nbrook.\n\nEvery night, troops of gay fairies and plodding brownies stole off on a\nvisit to the upper world, leaving Robin and his companions in\never-deeper despair. Poor Robin! he was fain to sing--\n\n \"Oh, that my father had ne'er on me smiled!\n Oh, that my mother had ne'er to me sung!\n Oh, that my cradle had never been rocked,\n But that I had died when I was young.\"\n\nNow, there was one good-natured brownie who pitied Robin. When he took a\njourney to earth with his fellow-brownies, he often threshed rye for the\nladdie's father, or churned butter in his good mother's dairy, unseen\nand unsuspected. If the little creature had been watched, and paid for\nthese good offices, he would have left the farmhouse forever in sore\ndispleasure.\n\nTo homesick Robin he brought news of the family who mourned him as dead.\nHe stole a silky tress of Janet's fair hair, and wondered to see the boy\nweep over it; for brotherly affection is a sentiment which never yet\npenetrated the heart of a brownie. The dull little sprite would gladly\nhave helped the poor lad to his freedom, but told him that only on one\nnight of the year was there the least hope, and that was on Hallow-e'en,\nwhen the whole nation of fairies ride in procession through the streets\nof earth.\n\nSo Robin was instructed to spin a dream, which the kind brownie would\nhum in Janet's ear while she slept. By this means the lassie would not\nonly learn that her brother was in the power of the elves, but would\nalso learn how to release him.\n\nAccordingly, the night before Hallow-e'en, the bonnie Janet dreamed that\nthe long-lost Robin was living in Elf-land, and that he was to pass\nthrough the streets with a cavalcade of fairies. But, alas! how should\neven a sister know him in the dim starlight, among the passing troops of\nelfish and mortal riders? The dream assured her that she might let the\nfirst company go by, and the second; but Robin would be one of the\nthird.\n\nThe full directions as to how she should act were given in poetical\nform, as follows:\n\n \"First let pass the black, Janet,\n And syne let pass the brown;\n But grip ye to the milk-white steed,\n And pull the rider down.\n\n For _I_ ride on the milk-white steed,\n And aye nearest the town:\n Because I was a christened lad\n They gave me that renown.\n\n My right hand will be gloved, Janet;\n My left hand will be bare;\n And these the tokens I give thee,\n No doubt I will be there.\n\n They'll shape me in your arms, Janet,\n A toad, snake, and an eel;\n But hold me fast, nor let me gang,\n As you do love me weel.\n\n They'll shape me in your arms, Janet,\n A dove, bat, and a swan:\n Cast your green mantle over me,\n I'll be myself again.\"\n\nThe good sister Janet, far from remembering any of the old sins of her\nbrother, wept for joy to know that he was yet among the living. She told\nno one of her strange dream; but hastened secretly to the Miles Cross,\nsaw the strange cavalcade pricking through the greenwood, and pulled\ndown the rider on the milk-white steed, holding him fast through all his\nchanging shapes. But when she had thrown her green mantle over him, and\nclasped him in her arms as her own brother Robin, the angry voice of the\nFairy Queen was heard.\n\n \"Up then spake the Queen of Fairies,\n Out of a blush of rye:\n 'You've taken away the bonniest lad\n In all my companie.\n\n 'Had I but had the wit, yestreen,\n That I have learned to-day,\n I'd pinned the sister to her bed\n Ere he'd been won away!'\"\n\nHowever, it was too late now. Wild Robin was safe, and the elves had\nlost their power over him forever. His forgiving parents and his\nlead-hearted brothers welcomed him home with more than the old love.\n\nSo grateful and happy was the poor laddie that he nevermore grumbled at\nhis oatmeal parritch, or minded his kye with a scowling brow.\n\nBut to the end of his days, when he heard mention of fairies and\nbrownies, his mind wandered off in a mizmaze. He died in peace, and was\nburied on the banks of the Yarrow.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF MERLIN\n\nMerlin was a King in early Britain; he was also an Enchanter. No one\nknows who were his parents, or where he was born; but it is said that he\nwas brought in by the white waves of the sea, and that, at the last, to\nthe sea he returned.\n\nWhen Merlin was King of Britain, it was a delightful island of flowery\nmeadows. His subjects were fairies, and they spent their lives in\nsinging, playing, and enjoyment. The Prime Minister of Merlin was a tame\nwolf. Part of his kingdom was beneath the waves, and his subjects there\nwere the mermaids. Here, too, everyone was happy, and the only want they\never felt was of the full light of the sun, which, coming to them\nthrough the water, was but faint and cast no shadow. Here was Merlin's\nworkshop, where he forged the enchanted sword Excalibur. This was given\nto King Arthur when he began to reign, and after his life was through it\nwas flung into the ocean again, where it will remain until he returns to\nrule over a better kingdom.\n\nMerlin was King Arthur's trusted counselor. He knew the past, present,\nand the future; he could foretell the result of a battle, and he had\ncourage to rebuke even the bravest Knights for cowardice. On one\noccasion, when the battle seemed to be lost, he rode in among the enemy\non a great white horse, carrying a banner with a golden dragon, which\npoured forth flaming fire from its throat. Because of this dragon, which\nbecame King Arthur's emblem, Arthur was known as Pendragon, and always\nwore a golden dragon on the front of his helmet.\n\nMerlin was always fond of elfin tricks. He would disguise himself--now\nas a blind boy, again as an old witch, and once more as a dwarf. There\nwas a song about him all over Britain, which began as follows:\n\n \"Merlin, Merlin, where art thou going\n So early in the day, with thy black dog?\n Oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi! oi!\n Oi! oi! oi! oi! oi!\"\n\nThis is the way the early British explained the gathering and\narrangement of the vast stones of Stonehenge. After a famous battle had\nbeen won there, Merlin said: \"I will now cause a thing to be done that\nwill endure to the world's end.\" So he bade the King, who was the father\nof King Arthur, to send ships and men to Ireland. Here he showed him\nstones so great that no man could handle, but by his magic art he placed\nthem upon the boats and they were borne to England. Again by his magic\nhe showed how to transport them across the land; and after they were\ngathered he had them set on end, \"because,\" he said, \"they would look\nfairer than as if they were lying down.\"\n\nNow, strange to say, the greatest friend of Merlin was a little girl.\nHer name was Vivian; she was twelve years old, and she was the daughter\nof King Dionas. In order to make her acquaintance, Merlin changed\nhimself into a young Squire, and when she asked him who was his master,\nhe said: \"It is one who has taught me so much that I could here erect\nfor you a castle, and I could make many people outside to attack it and\ninside to defend it.\"\n\n\"I wish I could thus disport myself,\" answered Vivian. \"I would always\nlove you if you could show me such wonders.\"\n\nThen Merlin described a circle with his wand, and went back and sat down\nbeside her. Within a few hours the castle was before her in the wood,\nKnights and ladies were singing in its courtyard, and an orchard in\nblossom grew about.\n\n\"Have I done what I promised?\" asked Merlin.\n\n\"Fair, sweet friend,\" said she, \"you have done so much for me that I am\nalways yours.\"\n\nVivian became like a daughter to the old magician, and he taught her\nmany of the most wonderful things that any mortal heart could think\nof--things past, things that were done, and part of what was to come.\n\nYou have been told in Tennyson that Vivian learned so many of Merlin's\nenchantments that in his old age she took advantage of him and put him\nto sleep forever in the hollow of a tree. But the older legend gives us\nbetter news. He showed her how to make a tower without walls so they\nmight dwell there together alone in peace. This tower was \"so strong\nthat it may never be undone while the world endures.\" After it was\nfinished he fell asleep with his head in her lap, and she wove a spell\nnine times around his head so that he might rest more peacefully.\n\nBut the old enchanter does not sleep forever. Here in the forest of\nBroceliande, on a magic island, Merlin dwells with his nine bards, and\nonly Vivian can come or go through the magic walls. It was toward this\ntower, so the legends say, that, after the passing of King Arthur,\nMerlin was last seen by some Irish monks, sailing away westward, with\nthe maiden Vivian, in a boat of crystal, beneath the sunset sky.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: Courtesy of A. Lofthouse\n\n THE WILLOW PATTERN\n\n The plate of which this is a photograph was brought to America from\n England about 1875; it had at that time been in the possession of one\n family for a hundred years.]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CUB'S TRIUMPH\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in a forest a badger and a mother fox with\none little Cub.\n\nThere were no other beasts in the wood, because the hunters had killed\nthem all with bows and arrows, or by setting snares. The deer, and the\nwild boar, the hares, the weasels, and the stoats--even the bright\nlittle squirrels--had been shot, or had fallen into traps. At last, only\nthe badger and the fox, with her young one, were left, and they were\nstarving, for they dared not venture from their holes for fear of the\ntraps.\n\nThey did not know what to do, or where to turn for food. At last the\nbadger said:\n\n\"I have thought of a plan. I will pretend to be dead. You must change\nyourself into a man, and take me into the town and sell me. With the\nmoney you get for me, you must buy food and bring it into the forest.\nWhen I get a chance I will run away, and come back to you, and we will\neat our dinner together. Mind you wait for me, and don't eat any of it\nuntil I come. Next week it will be your turn to be dead, and my turn to\nsell--do you see?\"\n\nThe fox thought this plan would do very well; so, as soon as the badger\nhad lain down and pretended to be dead, she said to her little Cub:\n\n\"Be sure not to come out of the hole until I come back. Be very good and\nquiet, and I will soon bring you some nice dinner.\"\n\nShe then changed herself into a wood-cutter, took the badger by the\nheels and swung him over her shoulders, and trudged off into the town.\nThere she sold the badger for a fair price, and with the money bought\nsome fish, some _tofu_,[M] and some vegetables. She then ran back to the\nforest as fast as she could, changed herself into a fox again, and crept\ninto her hole to see if little Cub was all right. Little Cub was there,\nsafe enough, but very hungry, and wanted to begin upon the _tofu_ at\nonce.\n\n [M] Curd made from white beans.\n\n\"No, no,\" said the mother fox. \"Fair play's a jewel. We must wait for\nthe badger.\"\n\nSoon the badger arrived, quite out of breath with running so fast.\n\n\"I hope you haven't been eating any of the dinner,\" he panted. \"I could\nnot get away sooner. The man you sold me to brought his wife to look at\nme, and boasted how cheap he had bought me. You should have asked twice\nas much. At last they left me alone, and then I jumped up and ran away\nas fast as I could.\"\n\nThe badger, the fox, and the Cub now sat down to dinner, and had a fine\nfeast, the badger taking care to get the best bits for himself.\n\nSome days after, when all the food was finished, and they had begun to\nget hungry again, the badger said to the fox:\n\n\"Now it's your turn to die.\" So the fox pretended to be dead, and the\nbadger changed himself into a hunter, shouldered the fox, and went off\nto the town, where he made a good bargain, and sold her for a nice\nlittle sum of money.\n\nYou have seen, already that the badger was greedy and selfish. What do\nyou think he did now? He wished to have all the money, and all the food\nit would buy for himself, so he whispered to the man who had bought the\nfox:\n\n\"That fox is only pretending to be dead; take care he doesn't run away.\"\n\n\"We'll soon settle that,\" said the man, and he knocked the fox on the\nhead with a big stick, and killed her.\n\nThe badger next laid out the money in buying all the nice things he\ncould think of. He carried them off to the forest, and there ate them\nall up himself, without giving one bit to the poor little Cub, who was\nall alone, crying for its mother, very sad, and very hungry.\n\nPoor little motherless Cub! But, being a clever little fox, he soon\nbegan to put two and two together, and at last felt quite sure that the\nbadger had, in some way, caused the loss of his mother.\n\nHe made up his mind that he would punish the badger; and, as he was not\nbig enough or strong enough to do it by force, he was obliged to try\nanother plan.\n\nHe did not let the badger see how angry he was with him, but said in a\nfriendly way:\n\n\"Let us have a game of changing ourselves into men. If you can change\nyourself so cleverly that I cannot find you out, you will have won the\ngame; but, if I change myself so that you cannot find me out, then I\nshall have won the game. I will begin, if you like; and, you may be\nsure, I shall turn myself into somebody very grand while I am about it.\"\n\nThe badger agreed. So then, instead of changing himself at all, the\ncunning little Cub just went and hid himself behind a tree, and watched\nto see what would happen. Presently there came along the bridge leading\ninto the town a nobleman, seated in a sedan-chair, a great crowd of\nservants and men at arms following him.\n\nThe badger was quite sure that this must be the fox, so he ran up to the\nsedan-chair, put in his head, and cried:\n\n\"I've found you out! I've won the game!\"\n\n\"A badger! A badger! Off with his head,\" cried the nobleman.\n\nSo one of the retainers cut off the badger's head with one blow of his\nsharp sword, the little Cub all the time laughing unseen behind the\ntree.\n\n [Illustration: THE CUB'S TRIUMPH]\n\n\n\n\nCHIN-CHIN KOBAKAMA\n\n\nOnce there was a little girl who was very pretty, but also very lazy.\nHer parents were rich, and had a great many servants; and these servants\nwere very fond of the little girl, and did everything for her which she\nought to have been able to do for herself. Perhaps this was what made\nher so lazy. When she grew up into a beautiful woman she still remained\nlazy; but as the servants always dressed and undressed her, and arranged\nher hair, she looked very charming, and nobody thought about her faults.\n\nAt last she was married to a brave warrior, and went away with him to\nlive in another house where there were but few servants. She was sorry\nnot to have as many servants as she had had at home, because she was\nobliged to do several things for herself which other folks had always\ndone for her, and it was a great deal of trouble to her to dress\nherself, and take care of her own clothes, and keep herself looking neat\nand pretty to please her husband. But as he was a warrior, and often had\nto be far away from home with the army, she could sometimes be just as\nlazy as she wished, and her husband's parents were very old and\ngood-natured, and never scolded her.\n\nWell, one night while her husband was away with the army, she was\nawakened by queer little noises in her room. By the light of a big paper\nlantern she could see very well, and she saw strange things.\n\nHundreds of little men, dressed just like Japanese warriors, but only\nabout one inch high, were dancing all around her pillow. They wore the\nsame kind of dress her husband wore on holidays (_Kamishimo_, a long\nrobe with square shoulders), and their hair was tied up in knots, and\neach wore two tiny swords. They all looked at her as they danced, and\nlaughed, and they all sang the same song over and over again:\n\n \"Chin-chin Kobakama,\n Yomo fuk\u00e9 s[=o]ro--\n Oshizumare, Hime-gimi!--\n Ya ton ton!--\"\n\nWhich meant: \"We are the Chin-chin Kobakama; the hour is late; sleep,\nhonorable, noble darling!\"\n\nThe words seemed very polite, but she soon saw that the little men were\nonly making cruel fun of her. They also made ugly faces at her.\n\nShe tried to catch some of them, but they jumped about so quickly that\nshe could not. Then she tried to drive them away, but they would not go,\nand they never stopped singing:\n\n \"Chin-chin Kobakama....\"\n\nand laughing at her. Then she knew they were little fairies, and became\nso frightened that she could not even cry out. They danced around her\nuntil morning; then they all vanished suddenly.\n\nShe was ashamed to tell anybody what had happened, because, as she was\nthe wife of a warrior, she did not wish anybody to know how frightened\nshe had been.\n\nNext night, again, the little men came and danced; and they came also\nthe night after that, and every night, always at the same hour, which\nthe old Japanese used to call the \"hour of the ox\"; that is, about\ntwo o'clock in the morning by our time. At last she became very sick,\nthrough want of sleep and through fright. But the little men would not\nleave her alone.\n\nWhen her husband came back home he was very sorry to find her sick in\nbed. At first she was afraid to tell him what had made her ill, for fear\nthat he would laugh at her. But he was so kind, and coaxed her so\ngently, that after a while she told him what happened every night.\n\nHe did not laugh at her at all, but looked very serious for a time. Then\nhe asked:\n\n\"At what time do they come?\"\n\nShe answered, \"Always at the same hour--the 'hour of the ox.'\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said her husband; \"to-night I shall hide, and watch for\nthem. Do not be frightened.\"\n\nSo that night the warrior hid himself in a closet in the sleeping-room,\nand kept watch through a chink between the sliding doors.\n\nHe waited and watched until the \"hour of the ox.\" Then, all at once, the\nlittle men came up through the mats, and began their dance and their\nsong:\n\n \"Chin-chin Kobakama,\n Yomo fuk\u00e9 s[=o]ro....\"\n\nThey looked so queer, and danced in such a funny way, that the warrior\ncould scarcely keep from laughing. But he saw his young wife's\nfrightened face; and then, remembering that nearly all Japanese ghosts\nand goblins are afraid of a sword, he drew his blade and rushed out of\nthe closet, and struck at the little dancers. Immediately they all\nturned into--what do you think?\n\n _Toothpicks!_\n\nThere were no more little warriors--only a lot of old toothpicks\nscattered over the mats.\n\nThe young wife had been too lazy to put her toothpicks away properly;\nand every day, after having used a new toothpick, she would stick it\ndown between the mats on the floor, to get rid of it. So the little\nfairies who take care of the floor-mats became angry with her, and\ntormented her.\n\nHer husband scolded her, and she was so ashamed that she did not know\nwhat to do. A servant was called, and the toothpicks were taken away and\nburned, and after that the little men never came back again.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL MALLET\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were two brothers. The elder was an honest and\ngood man, but he was very poor, while the younger, who was dishonest and\nstingy, had managed to pile up a large fortune. The name of the elder\nwas Kan\u00e9, and that of the younger was Ch\u00f4.\n\nNow, one day Kan\u00e9 went to Ch\u00f4's house, and begged for the loan of some\nseed-rice and some silkworms' eggs, for last season had been\nunfortunate, and he was in want of both.\n\nCh\u00f4 had plenty of good rice and excellent silkworms' eggs, but he was\nsuch a miser that he did not want to lend them. At the same time, he\nfelt ashamed to refuse his brother's request, so he gave him some\nworm-eaten musty rice and some dead eggs, which he felt sure would never\nhatch.\n\nKan\u00e9, never suspecting that his brother would play him such a shabby\ntrick, put plenty of mulberry leaves with the eggs, to be food for the\nsilkworms when they should appear. Appear they did, and throve and grew\nwonderfully, much better than those of the stingy brother, who was angry\nand jealous when he heard of it.\n\nGoing to Kan\u00e9's house one day, and finding his brother was out, Ch\u00f4 took\na knife and killed all the silkworms, cutting each poor little creature\nin two; then he went home without having been seen by anybody.\n\nWhen Kan\u00e9 came home he was dismayed to find his silkworms in this state,\nbut he did not suspect who had done him this bad trick, and tried to\nfeed them with mulberry leaves as before. The silkworms came to life\nagain, and doubled the number, for now each half was a living worm. They\ngrew and throve, and the silk they spun was twice as much as Kan\u00e9 had\nexpected. So now he began to prosper.\n\nThe envious Ch\u00f4, seeing this, cut all his own silkworms in half, but,\nalas! they did not come to life again, so he lost a great deal of money,\nand became more jealous than ever.\n\nKan\u00e9 also planted the rice-seed which he had borrowed from his brother,\nand it sprang up, and grew and flourished far better than Ch\u00f4's had\ndone.\n\nThe rice ripened well, and he was just intending to cut and harvest it\nwhen a flight of thousands upon thousands of swallows came and began to\ndevour it. Kan\u00e9 was much astonished, and shouted and made as much noise\nas he could in order to drive them away. They flew away, indeed, but\ncame back immediately, so that he kept driving them away, and they kept\nflying back again.\n\nAt last he pursued them into a distant field, where he lost sight of\nthem. He was by this time so hot and tired that he sat down to rest. By\nlittle and little his eyes closed, his head dropped upon a mossy bank,\nand he fell fast asleep.\n\nThen he dreamed that a merry band of children came into the field,\nlaughing and shouting. They sat down upon the ground in a ring, and one\nwho seemed the eldest, a boy of fourteen or fifteen, came close to the\nbank on which he lay asleep, and, raising a big stone near his head,\ndrew from under it a small wooden Mallet.\n\nThen in his dream Kan\u00e9 saw this big boy stand in the middle of the ring\nwith the Mallet in his hand, and ask the children each in turn, \"What\nwould you like the Mallet to bring you?\" The first child answered, \"A\nkite.\" The big boy shook the Mallet, upon which appeared immediately a\nfine kite with tail and string all complete. The next cried, \"A\nbattledore.\" Out sprang a splendid battledore and a shower of\nshuttlecocks. Then a little girl shyly whispered, \"A doll.\" The Mallet\nwas shaken, and there stood a beautifully dressed doll. \"I should like\nall the fairy-tale books that have ever been written in the whole\nworld,\" said a bright-eyed intelligent maiden, and no sooner had she\nspoken than piles upon piles of beautiful books appeared. And so at last\nthe wishes of all the children were granted, and they stayed a long time\nin the field with the things the Mallet had given them. At last they got\ntired, and prepared to go home; the big boy first carefully hiding the\nMallet under the stone from whence he had taken it. Then all the\nchildren went away.\n\nPresently Kan\u00e9 awoke, and gradually remembered his dream. In preparing\nto rise he turned round, and there, close to where his head had lain,\nwas the big stone he had seen in his dream. \"How strange!\" he thought,\nexpecting he hardly knew what; he raised the stone, and there lay the\nMallet!\n\nHe took it home with him, and, following the example of the children he\nhad seen in his dream, shook it, at the same time calling out, \"Gold\" or\n\"Rice,\" \"Silk\" or \"Sak\u00e9.\" Whatever he called for flew immediately out of\nthe Mallet, so that he could have everything he wanted, and as much of\nit as he liked.\n\nKan\u00e9 being now a rich and prosperous man, Ch\u00f4 was of course jealous of\nhim, and determined to find a magic mallet which would do as much for\nhim. He came, therefore, to Kan\u00e9 and borrowed seed-rice, which he\nplanted and tended with care, being impatient for it to grow and ripen\nsoon.\n\nIt grew well and ripened soon, and now Ch\u00f4 watched daily for the\nswallows to appear. And, to be sure, one day a flight of swallows came\nand began to eat up the rice.\n\nCh\u00f4 was delighted at this, and drove them away, pursuing them to the\ndistant field where Kan\u00e9 had followed them before. There he lay down,\nintending to go to sleep as his brother had done, but the more he tried\nto go to sleep the wider awake he seemed.\n\nPresently the band of children came skipping and jumping, so he shut his\neyes and pretended to be asleep, but all the time watched anxiously what\nthe children would do. They sat down in a ring, as before, and the big\nboy came close to Ch\u00f4's head and lifted the stone. He put down his hand\nto lift the Mallet, but no mallet was there.\n\nOne of the children said, \"Perhaps that lazy old farmer has taken our\nMallet.\" So the big boy laid hold of Ch\u00f4's nose, which was rather long,\nand gave it a good pinch, and all the other children ran up and pinched\nand pulled his nose, and the nose itself got longer and longer; first it\nhung down to his chin, then over his chest, next down to his knees, and\nat last to his very feet.\n\nIt was in vain that Ch\u00f4 protested his innocence; the children pinched\nand pummeled him to their hearts' content, then capered round him,\nshouting and laughing, and making game of him, and so at last went away.\n\nNow Ch\u00f4 was left alone, a sad and angry man. Holding his long nose\npainfully in both hands, he slowly took his way toward his brother\nKan\u00e9's house. Here he related all that had happened to him from the very\nday when he had behaved so badly about the seed-rice and silkworms'\neggs. He humbly begged his brother to pardon him, and, if possible, do\nsomething to restore his unfortunate nose to its proper size.\n\nThe kind-hearted Kan\u00e9 pitied him, and said: \"You have been dishonest\nand mean, and selfish and envious, and that is why you have got this\npunishment. If you promise to behave better for the future, I will try\nwhat can be done.\"\n\nSo saying, he took the Mallet and rubbed Ch\u00f4's nose with it gently, and\nthe nose gradually became shorter and shorter until at last it came back\nto its proper shape and size. But ever after, if at any time Ch\u00f4 felt\ninclined to be selfish and dishonest, as he did now and then, his nose\nbegan to smart and burn, and he fancied he felt it beginning to grow. So\ngreat was his terror of having a long nose again that these symptoms\nnever failed to bring him back to his good behavior.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE HOUSELESS CROWS\n\n\nA Sparrow once built a nice little house for herself, and lined it well\nwith wool and protected it with sticks, so that it resisted equally the\nsummer sun and the winter rains. A Crow who lived close by had also\nbuilt a house, but it was not such a good one, being only made of a few\nsticks laid one above another on the top of a prickly-pear hedge. The\nconsequence was that one day, when there was an unusually heavy shower,\nthe Crow's nest was washed away, while the Sparrow's was not at all\ninjured.\n\nIn this extremity the Crow and her mate went to the Sparrow, and said:\n\"Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind\nblows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into\nour eyes.\" But the Sparrow answered: \"I'm cooking the dinner; I cannot\nlet you in now; come again presently.\"\n\nIn a little while the Crows returned and said: \"Sparrow, Sparrow, have\npity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats,\nand the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes.\" The Sparrow\nanswered: \"I'm eating my dinner; I cannot let you in now; come again\npresently.\"\n\nThe Crows flew away, but in a little while returned, and cried once\nmore: \"Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the\nwind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick\ninto our eyes.\" The Sparrow replied: \"I'm washing my dishes; I cannot\nlet you in now; come again presently.\"\n\nThe Crows waited a while and then called out: \"Sparrow, Sparrow, have\npity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats,\nand the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes.\" But the Sparrow\nwould not let them in; she only answered: \"I'm sweeping the floor; I\ncannot let you in now; come again presently.\"\n\nNext time the Crows came and cried: \"Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us\nand give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the\nprickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes.\" She answered: \"I'm\nmaking the beds; I cannot let you in now; come again presently.\"\n\nSo, on one pretense or another she refused to help the poor birds. At\nlast, when she and her children had had their dinner, and she had\nprepared and put away the dinner for next day, and had put all the\nchildren to bed and gone to bed herself, she cried to the Crows: \"You\nmay come in now and take shelter for the night.\" The Crows came in, but\nthey were much vexed at having been kept out so long in the wind and the\nrain, and when the Sparrow and all her family were asleep, the one said\nto the other: \"This selfish Sparrow had no pity on us; she gave us no\ndinner, and would not let us in till she and all her children were\ncomfortably in bed; let us punish her.\" So the two Crows took all the\nnice dinner the Sparrow had prepared for herself and her children to eat\nthe next day, and flew away with it.\n\n [Illustration: THE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE HOUSELESS CROWS]\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF ZIRAC\n\n\nOnce upon a time a raven, a rat, and a tortoise, having agreed to be\nfriends together, were having a pleasant chat when they saw a wild goat\nmaking its way toward them with surprising swiftness. They took it for\ngranted by her speed that she was pursued by some hunter, and they at\nonce without ceremony separated, every one to take care of himself. The\ntortoise slipped into the water, the rat crept into a hole, which he\nfortunately found near at hand, and the raven hid himself among the\nboughs of a very high tree. In the meantime the goat stopped quite\nsuddenly, and stood to rest herself by the side of a fountain, when the\nraven, who had looked all round and perceived no one, called to the\ntortoise, who immediately peeped above the water, and seeing the goat\nafraid to drink, said: \"Drink boldly, my friend, for the water is very\nclear.\"\n\nAfter the goat had done so, the tortoise continued: \"Pray tell me what\nis the reason you appear in such distress?\"\n\n\"Reason enough,\" said the goat; \"for I have just made my escape out of\nthe hands of a hunter, who pursued me with an eager chase.\"\n\n\"Come,\" said the tortoise, \"I am glad you are safe. I have an offer to\nmake you. If you like our company, stay here and be one of our friends;\nyou will find our hearts honest and our company useful to you. The sages\nsay that a number of friends lessens trouble.\"\n\nAfter this short speech the raven and the rat joined in the invitation,\nso that the goat at once promised to become one of them, each promising\nthe other to prove himself a real and true friend whatever might happen\nin days to come. After this agreement these four friends lived in\nperfect harmony for a very long time, and spent their time pleasantly\ntogether. But one day, as the tortoise, the rat, and the raven were met,\nas they used to do, by the side of the fountain, the goat was missing.\nThis gave great trouble to them, as they knew not what had happened.\nThey very soon came to a resolution, however, to seek for and assist the\ngoat, so the raven at once mounted into the air to see what discoveries\nhe could make; and looking round about him, at length, to his great\nsorrow, saw at a distance the poor goat entangled in a hunter's net. He\nimmediately dropped down in order to acquaint the rat and tortoise with\nwhat he had seen; and you may be sure that these ill tidings caused\ngreat grief.\n\n\"What shall we do?\" said they.\n\n\"We have promised firm friendship to one another and lived very happily\ntogether so long,\" said the tortoise, \"that it would be shameful to\nbreak the bond and not act up to all we said. We cannot leave our\ninnocent and good-natured companion in this dire distress and great\ndanger. No! we must find some way to deliver our poor friend goat out of\ncaptivity.\"\n\nSaid the raven to the rat, who was nicknamed Zirac: \"Remember, O\nexcellent Zirac, there is none but thyself able to set our friend at\nliberty; and the business must be quickly done for fear the huntsman\nshould lay his hands upon her.\"\n\n\"Doubt not,\" replied Zirac, \"but that I will do my best, so let us go at\nonce that no time may be lost.\"\n\nOn this the raven took up Zirac in his bill and flew with him to the\nplace where the poor goat was confined in the net. No sooner had he\narrived than he at once commenced to gnaw the meshes of the net that\nheld the goat's foot and had almost set him at liberty when the tortoise\narrived.\n\nAs soon as the goat saw the tortoise she cried out with a loud voice:\n\"Oh, why have you ventured to come hither, friend tortoise?\"\n\n\"Because I could no longer bear your absence,\" replied the tortoise.\n\n\"Dear friend,\" said the goat, \"your coming to this place troubles me as\nmuch as the loss of my own liberty; for if the hunter should happen to\ncome, what would you do to make your escape? For my part I am almost\nfree, and my being able to run will prevent me from falling into his\nhands again; our friend the raven can find safety in flight, and Zirac\ncan run into any hole. Only you, who are so slow of foot, will become\nthe hunter's prey.\" No sooner had the goat thus spoken, when sure enough\nthe hunter appeared; but the goat, being free, swiftly ran away; the\nraven mounted into the air, and Zirac slipped into a hole, and true\nenough, as the goat had said, only the slow-paced tortoise remained\nwithout help.\n\nWhen the hunter arrived he was a little surprised to see his net broken\nand the goat missing. This was no small vexation to him, and caused him\nto look closely around, to see if he could discover who had done the\nmischief; and unfortunately, in thus searching, he spied the tortoise.\n\n\"Oh! oh!\" said he. \"Very good; I am glad to see you here. I find I shall\nnot go home empty-handed after all; here is a plump tortoise, and that\nis worth something, I'm sure.\" Thus saying, he took up the tortoise, put\nit in a sack, threw the sack over his shoulder, and was soon trudging\nhome.\n\nAfter he had gone the three friends came out from their several\nhiding-places, and met together, when, missing the tortoise, they at\nonce judged what had become of him. Then, uttering bitter cries and\nlamentations, they shed torrents of tears. At length the raven broke the\nsilence, and said: \"Dear friends, our moans and sorrow do not help the\ntortoise. We must, if it be at all possible, devise some means of saving\nhis life. Our sages have often told us that there are three persons that\nare never well known but on special occasions--men of courage in fight,\nmen of honesty in business, and a true friend in extreme necessity. We\nfind, alas! our dear companion the tortoise is in a sad condition, and\ntherefore we must, if possible, help him.\"\n\n\"It is first-class advice,\" replied Zirac. \"Now I think I know how it\ncan be done. Let our friend the goat go and show herself to the hunter,\nwho will then be certain to lay down the sack to run after her.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the goat, \"I will pretend to be lame, and run limping\nat a little distance before him, which will encourage him to follow me,\nand thus draw him a good way from his sack, which will give Zirac time\nto set our friend at liberty.\"\n\nThis plan appeared such a good one that it was at once approved of, and\nimmediately the goat ran halting before the hunter, and appeared to be\nso feeble and faint that her pursuer thought he had her safe in his\nclutches again, and so, laying down his sack, ran after the goat with\nall his might. That cunning creature suffered him now and again almost\nto come up to her, and then led him another wild-goose chase till at\nlast she had lured him out of sight; which Zirac seeing, began gnawing\nthe string that tied the mouth of the sack, and soon set free the\ntortoise, who went at once and hid himself in a thick bush.\n\n [Illustration: \"OH, WHY HAVE YOU VENTURED TO COME?\"]\n\nAt length the hunter, tired of running after his prey, gave up the\nchase, and returned to take up his sack.\n\n\"Here,\" said he, \"I have something safe; thou art not quite so swift as\nthat plaguing goat; and if thou wert, art too well confined here to find\nthe way to make thy little legs any use to thee.\" So saying, he went to\nthe bag, but not finding the tortoise he was amazed, and thought himself\nin a region of hobgoblins and spirits, since he had by some mysterious\nmeans lost two valuable objects, a goat and a tortoise! He did not know,\nyou see, what wonders true friendship can work when all are pledged to\nhelp one another.\n\nThe four friends soon met together again, congratulated one another on\ntheir escapes, made afresh their vows of friendship, and declared that\nthey would never separate until death parted them.\n\n\n\n\nMY LORD BAG OF RICE\n\n\nLong, long ago there lived in Japan a brave warrior known to all as\nTawara Toda, or \"My Lord Bag of Rice.\" His true name was Fujiwara\nHidesato, and there is a very interesting story of how he came to change\nhis name.\n\nOne day he sallied forth in search of adventures, for he had the nature\nof a warrior and could not bear to be idle. So he buckled on his two\nswords, took his huge bow, much taller than himself, in his hand, and\nslinging his quiver on his back started out. He had not gone far when he\ncame to the bridge of Seta-no-Karashi spanning one end of the beautiful\nLake Biwa. No sooner had he set foot on the bridge than he saw lying\nright across his path a huge serpent-dragon. Its body was so big that it\nlooked like the trunk of a large pine tree and it took up the whole\nwidth of the bridge. One of its huge claws rested on the parapet of one\nside of the bridge, while its tail lay right against the other. The\nmonster seemed to be asleep, and as it breathed, fire and smoke came out\nof its nostrils.\n\nAt first Hidesato could not help feeling alarmed at the sight of this\nhorrible reptile lying in his path, for he must either turn back or walk\nright over its body. He was a brave man, however, and putting aside all\nfear went forward dauntlessly. Crunch, crunch; he stepped now on the\ndragon's body, now between its coils, and without even one glance\nbackward he went on his way.\n\nHe had only gone a few steps when he heard some one calling him from\nbehind. On turning back he was much surprised to see that the monster\ndragon had entirely disappeared and in its place was a strange-looking\nman, who was bowing most ceremoniously to the ground. His red hair\nstreamed over his shoulders and was surmounted by a crown in the shape\nof a dragon's head, and his sea-green dress was patterned with shells.\nHidesato knew at once that this was no ordinary mortal and he wondered\nmuch at the strange occurrence. Where had the dragon gone in such a\nshort space of time? Or had it transformed itself into this man, and\nwhat did the whole thing mean? While these thoughts passed through his\nmind he had come up to the man on the bridge and now addressed him:\n\n\"Was it you that called me just now?\"\n\n\"Yes, it was I,\" answered the man; \"I have an earnest request to make to\nyou. Do you think you can grant it to me?\"\n\n\"If it is in my power to do so I will,\" answered Hidesato, \"but first\ntell me who you are?\"\n\n\"I am the Dragon King of the Lake, and my home is in these waters just\nunder this bridge.\"\n\n\"And what is it you have to ask of me?\" said Hidesato.\n\n\"I want you to kill my mortal enemy the centipede, who lives on the\nmountain beyond,\" and the Dragon King pointed to a high peak on the\nopposite shore of the lake.\n\n\"I have lived now for many years in this lake and I have a large family\nof children and grandchildren. For some time past we have lived in\nterror, for a monster centipede has discovered our home, and night after\nnight it comes and carries off one of my family. I am powerless to save\nthem. If it goes on much longer like this, not only shall I lose all\nmy children, but I myself must fall a victim to the monster. I am,\ntherefore, very unhappy, and in my extremity I determined to ask the\nhelp of a human being. For many days with this intention I have waited\non the bridge in the shape of the horrible serpent-dragon that you saw,\nin the hope that some strong brave man would come along. But all who\ncame this way, as soon as they saw me were terrified and ran away as\nfast as they could. You are the first man I have found able to look at\nme without fear, so I knew at once that you were a man of great courage.\nI beg you to have pity upon me. Will you not help me and kill my enemy\nthe centipede?\"\n\nHidesato felt very sorry for the Dragon King on hearing his story, and\nreadily promised to do what he could to help him. The warrior asked\nwhere the centipede lived, so that he might attack the creature at\nonce. The Dragon King replied that its home was on the mountain Mikami,\nbut that as it came every night at a certain hour to the palace of the\nlake, it would be better to wait till then. So Hidesato was conducted to\nthe palace of the Dragon King, under the bridge. Strange to say, as he\nfollowed his host downward the waters parted to let them pass, and his\nclothes did not even feel damp as he passed through the flood. Never had\nHidesato seen anything so beautiful as this palace built of white marble\nbeneath the lake. He had often heard of the Sea King's Palace at the\nbottom of the sea, where all the servants and retainers were salt-water\nfishes, but here was a magnificent building in the heart of Lake Biwa.\nThe dainty goldfishes, red carp, and silvery trout, waited upon the\nDragon King and his guest.\n\nHidesato was astonished at the feast that was spread for him. The dishes\nwere crystallized lotus leaves and flowers, and the chopsticks were of\nthe rarest ebony. As soon as they sat down, the sliding doors opened\nand ten lovely goldfish dancers came out, and behind them followed ten\nred-carp musicians with the koto and the samisen. Thus the hours flew\nby till midnight, and the beautiful music and dancing had banished all\nthoughts of the centipede. The Dragon King was about to pledge the\nwarrior in a fresh cup of wine when the palace was suddenly shaken by a\ntramp, tramp! as if a mighty army had begun to march not far away.\n\nHidesato and his host both rose to their feet and rushed to the balcony,\nand the warrior saw on the opposite mountain two great balls of glowing\nfire coming nearer and nearer. The Dragon King stood by the warrior's\nside trembling with fear.\n\n\"The centipede! The centipede! Those two balls of fire are its eyes. It\nis coming for its prey! Now is the time to kill it.\"\n\nHidesato looked where his host pointed, and, in the dim light of the\nstarlit evening, behind the two balls of fire he saw the long body of an\nenormous centipede winding round the mountains, and the light in its\nhundred feet glowed like so many distant lanterns moving slowly toward\nthe shore.\n\nHidesato showed not the least sign of fear. He tried to calm the Dragon\nKing.\n\n\"Don't be afraid. I shall surely kill the centipede. Just bring me my\nbow and arrows.\"\n\nThe Dragon King did as he was bid, and the warrior noticed that he had\nonly three arrows left in his quiver. He took the bow, and fitting an\narrow to the notch, took careful aim and let fly.\n\nThe arrow hit the centipede right in the middle of its head, but instead\nof penetrating, it glanced off harmless and fell to the ground.\n\nNothing daunted, Hidesato took another arrow, fitted it to the notch of\nthe bow and let fly. Again the arrow hit the mark, it struck the\ncentipede right in the middle of its head, only to glance off and fall\nto the ground. The centipede was invulnerable to weapons! When the\nDragon King saw that even this brave warrior's arrows were powerless to\nkill the centipede, he lost heart and began to tremble with fear.\n\nThe warrior saw that he had now only one arrow left in his quiver, and\nif this one failed he could not kill the centipede. He looked across the\nwaters. The huge reptile had wound its horrid body seven times round the\nmountain and would soon come down to the lake. Nearer and nearer gleamed\nthe fire-balls of eyes, and the light of its hundred feet began to throw\nreflections in the still waters of the lake.\n\nThen suddenly the warrior remembered that he had heard that human saliva\nwas deadly to centipedes. But this was no ordinary centipede. This was\nso monstrous that even to think of such a creature made one creep with\nhorror. Hidesato determined to try his last chance. So taking his last\narrow and first putting the end of it in his mouth, he fitted the notch\nto his bow, took careful aim once more and let fly.\n\nThis time the arrow again hit the centipede right in the middle of its\nhead, but instead of glancing off harmlessly as before it struck home to\nthe creature's brain. Then with a convulsive shudder the serpentine body\nstopped moving, and the fiery light of its great eyes and hundred feet\ndarkened to a dull glare like the sunset of a stormy day, and then went\nout in blackness. A great darkness now overspread the heavens, the\nthunder rolled and the lightning flashed, and the wind roared in fury,\nand it seemed as if the world were coming to an end. The Dragon King and\nhis children and retainers all crouched in different parts of the\npalace, frightened to death, for the building was shaken to its\nfoundations. At last the dreadful night was over. Day dawned beautiful\nand clear. The centipede was gone from the mountain.\n\nThen Hidesato called to the Dragon King to come out with him on the\nbalcony, for the centipede was dead and he had nothing more to fear.\n\nThen all the inhabitants of the palace came out with joy, and Hidesato\npointed to the lake. There lay the body of the dead centipede floating\non the water, which was dyed red with its blood.\n\nThe gratitude of the Dragon King knew no bounds. The whole family came\nand bowed down before the warrior, calling him their preserver and the\nbravest warrior in all Japan.\n\nAnother feast was prepared, more sumptuous than the first. All kinds of\nfish, prepared in every imaginable way, raw, stewed, boiled and roasted,\nserved on coral trays and crystal dishes, were put before him, and the\nwine was the best that Hidesato had ever tasted in his life. To add to\nthe beauty of everything the sun shone brightly, the lake glittered like\na liquid diamond, and the palace was a thousand times more beautiful by\nday than by night.\n\nHis host tried to persuade the warrior to stay a few days, but Hidesato\ninsisted on going home, saying that he had now finished what he had come\nto do, and must return. The Dragon King and his family were all very\nsorry to have him leave so soon, but since he would go they begged\nhim to accept a few small presents (so they said) in token of their\ngratitude to him for delivering them for ever from their horrible enemy\nthe centipede.\n\nAs the warrior stood in the porch taking leave, a train of fish was\nsuddenly transformed into a retinue of men, all wearing ceremonial robes\nand dragon's crowns on their heads to show that they were servants of\nthe great Dragon King. The presents that they carried were as follows:\n\n First, a large bronze bell.\n Second, a bag of rice.\n Third, a roll of silk.\n Fourth, a cooking pot.\n Fifth, a bell.\n\nHidesato did not want to accept all these presents, but as the Dragon\nKing insisted, he could not well refuse.\n\nThe Dragon King himself accompanied the warrior as far as the bridge,\nand then took leave of him with many bows and good wishes, leaving the\nprocession of servants to accompany Hidesato to his house with the\npresents.\n\nThe warrior's household and servants had been very much concerned when\nthey found that he did not return the night before, but they finally\nconcluded that he had been kept by the violent storm and had taken\nshelter somewhere. When the servants on the watch for his return caught\nsight of him they called to every one that he was approaching, and the\nwhole household turned out to meet him, wondering much what the retinue\nof men, bearing presents and banners, that followed him, could mean.\n\nAs soon as the Dragon King's retainers had put down the presents they\nvanished, and Hidesato told all that had happened to him.\n\nThe presents which he had received from the grateful Dragon King were\nfound to be of magic power. The bell only was ordinary, and as Hidesato\nhad no use for it he presented it to the temple near by, where it was\nhung up, to boom out the hour of day over the surrounding neighborhood.\n\nThe single bag of rice, however much was taken from it day after day for\nthe meals of the knight and his whole family, never grew less--the\nsupply in the bag was inexhaustible.\n\nThe roll of silk, too, never grew shorter, though time after time long\npieces were cut off to make the warrior a new suit of clothes to go to\nCourt in at the New Year.\n\nThe cooking pot was wonderful, too. No matter what was put into it, it\ncooked deliciously whatever was wanted without any firing--truly a very\neconomical saucepan.\n\nThe fame of Hidesato's fortune spread far and wide, and as there was no\nneed for him to spend money on rice or silk or firing, he became very\nrich and prosperous, and was henceforth known as _My Lord Bag of Rice_.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE LITTLE HARE OF OKI\n\n_A Japanese Fairy Tale_\n\nRETOLD BY B. M. BURRELL\n\n\nAlice lived in New York, but she still had the nurse who had taken care\nof her when she was a tiny baby in far-away Japan. Nurse wore the\npicturesque kimono and obi of her native land, and looked so different\nfrom other people that friends often wondered how Alice could feel at\nhome with her. Love, however, is the same the world over, and no one\nloved Alice better than did her little Japanese nurse.\n\nWhen Papa and Mama were at dinner, and Alice and Nurse had the library\nall to themselves till bedtime, the little girl would often pull two\nchairs up to the fire and say coaxingly:\n\n\"There is just time for a story!\" And Nurse would smile her funny\nJapanese smile and begin:\n\n\"Long, long ago, when the great Japanese gods ruled from high heaven,--\"\n\nThis was the beginning Alice liked best, for it meant that a fairy tale\nwould follow. And Nurse would perhaps continue:\n\n\"--a little hare lived on the island of Oki. It was a beautiful island,\nbut the hare was not satisfied: he wished to get to the mainland. He did\nnot know how to manage this; but one day he thought of a plan. Hopping\ndown to the shore, he waited till a crocodile came out to sun himself,\nthen opened a conversation with him.\n\n\"'There are, I suppose, many crocodiles in the sea,' he began.\n\n\"'Many, many!' the crocodile answered.\n\n\"'Not so many, however, as there are hares on the island of Oki,'\nreturned the little hare.\n\n\"'The crocodiles in the sea outnumber the hares of Oki as the drops in\nthe sea outnumber the trees of the island,' declared the crocodile, in\nhis deepest voice.\n\n\"'It does not seem right for a little bit of a creature like myself to\ndiffer with your lordship,' said the hare, politely, 'but I should like\nto see a proof of your statement.'\n\n\"'How can we prove it?' the crocodile questioned.\n\n\"'You can call all your friends and place them from here to the\nmainland, each with his nose on the tail of the neighbor before him;\nthen I can easily jump from one to the other, counting as I go.'\n\n\"The crocodile agreed to this plan, thinking it a good one. 'But how can\nwe count the hares?' he asked.\n\n\"'That we will decide after I have numbered the crocodiles,' the hare\nsuggested.\n\n\"The crocodile was satisfied, and bade the hare come to the same place\nnext morning to do the counting. Of course the little animal was on hand\nbright and early.\n\n\"There stretched an unbroken line of crocodiles, a floating bridge to\nthe mainland!\n\n\"The little hare lost no time hopping across it, you may be sure. As he\nreached the last crocodile and prepared to jump to shore, his heart was\nso full of pride at the success of his ruse that he could not resist\ncrying aloud:\n\n\"'How I have fooled you big creatures! I wished for a bridge to the\nmainland, and you have served my need!' Then he jumped.\n\n\"The last crocodile opened his wide jaws and closed them again with a\nsnap. The hare was too quick to be caught, but the monster's teeth\ntouched him and tore off most of his fur! As the poor thing limped away,\na crocodile called after him:\n\n\"'You see what happens when you trifle with creatures stronger than\nyourself!'\n\n\"The little hare did not know much, but he felt that he was learning. He\nhad no heart to explore the beauties of the mainland now, but crawled\nunder a bush by the roadside and wished that some one would tell him how\nto cure his wounds.\n\n\"After some time he heard the noise of many people on the road. He crept\nout to see what was coming, and beheld a crowd of young men, carrying\nburdens as if they were on a journey. They were all tall and handsome,\nand wore beautiful clothes fit for princes.\n\n\"One of them spied the little hare and cried: 'Well, friend, why do you\nlook so sad?'\n\n\"The hare, proud of being called 'friend' by this fine gentleman, told\nhow he had deceived the crocodiles. The men laughed loudly, and one of\nthem said: 'Since you are so clever, it is strange that you do not know\nthe best way to cure your wounds. You should bathe in the salt sea, and\nthen climb a hill so that the Wind Goddess can blow upon you with her\ncool breath.'\n\n [Illustration: THE PRINCESS AND THE HARE]\n\n\"The little hare thanked the strangers for their advice, and then asked\nthem where they were journeying. They replied that they were eighty-one\nprinces, all wishing to marry the princess of that country. She was very\nrich, and the responsibility of managing her wealth and kingdom was too\nmuch for her; so she had given notice that she desired to marry a wise\nand noble prince whom she could trust to rule for her.\n\n\"'So wealth and power do not always bring content?' the hare questioned.\n\n\"'They would content us!' the eighty princes answered. (The eighty-first\nwas not present. He was of a kindly and gentle disposition, which caused\nhis brothers to laugh at and impose upon him. To-day they had given him\nmost of the luggage to carry, so he could not walk as fast as they.) As\nthey started on the way, one of the princes called to the hare:\n'Good-by! And don't forget to bathe your wounds in the salt sea!' And\nwith loud laughter they continued their journey.\n\n\"The little hare did not give himself time to forget. He hurried to the\nshore and let the waves roll over him, but instead of making him feel\nbetter, the biting salt water only increased his pain.\n\n\"'I must hurry to the Wind Goddess,' the poor hare thought.\n\n\"He climbed the high hill with difficulty and lay down on the top,\nhoping for relief from his suffering. But the stiff grass pricked his\nwounds, and the biting wind caused them to throb more painfully. At last\nhe realized that the cruel princes had deceived him, and he crawled back\nto his bush by the roadside, where he lay with closed eyes.\n\n\"A gentle voice roused him. 'Who has wounded you, little hare?' it\nasked.\n\n [Illustration: THE GOOD-NATURED PRINCE AND THE PRINCESS]\n\n\"The little hare looked up and saw a beautiful youth standing beside\nhim. His experience with men made him think that it would be best to fly\nfrom the stranger; but the young man's kind glance conquered his fear,\nand he answered: 'I left the island of Oki to see the wonders of the\nmainland, and I have fared badly from the exchange.' Then he told once\nmore how he had left the island, and also about the bad advice the\neighty princes had given him.\n\n\"The young man sighed. 'They used you ill, little creature,' he said.\n'You learned that it is foolish to meddle with beings stronger than\nyourself; now you see how wicked it is to torment those weaker. My\nbrother princes should have told you to bathe in the fresh water of the\nriver and to lie on the soft rushes. Now, good-by, little friend. May\ngood luck attend you!' And he walked quietly away, bending beneath the\nlarge burden he carried.\n\n\"The little hare knew that the stranger was the eighty-first of the\nprinces, and so for a time, he feared to follow his advice. But he was\nin such pain that he decided to go to the river, which flowed like a\nsilver ribbon through the fields toward the ocean. Into the cool water\nhe plunged and immediately felt better, as the sand and bitter salt of\nthe sea were washed from his wounds. Then he took a nap on the soft\nrushes.\n\n\"When he awoke he no longer was in pain, so he was filled with gratitude\ntoward the young prince who had given him such kind and wise advice. He\nsat up, feeling quite strong again, and tried to think of a way in which\nhe could repay his benefactor. In the distance he saw the roofs of the\nprincess's palace rising among the trees which surrounded it. This gave\nhim an idea, and he lost no time in carrying it out.\n\n\"Across the fields he hopped toward the palace, never stopping till he\nreached the garden wall. He crept in under the high gate, and there\nstood the princess under a cherry-tree covered with blossoms. The\nlittle hare went up to her and said respectfully:\n\n\"'Gracious Princess, I bring to you advice, if you will accept it from\nso insignificant a person as I.'\n\n\"'Speak, little hare,' the beautiful princess answered, for she knew\nthat the best things are often found in unexpected places, and things\nare not always what they seem to be.\n\n\"'Eighty princes are coming to-day as suitors for your hand. They are\ndressed in rich and beautiful robes, and their faces are gay and\nsmiling; but all that is only to hide the cruelty of their hearts.\nFollowing them is a young man who is as wise as he is kind and gentle.\nTurn the eighty from your gate, but honor the youngest suitor as greater\nthan they.'\n\n\"'How do you know all this?' the princess questioned.\n\n\"So the little hare told his story for the third time, speaking so\nearnestly that the princess could not fail to be impressed by it. She\nthanked him for his advice, and after giving him some tender leaves\nto eat, prepared to receive the eighty-one brothers. They came a few\nminutes later, resplendent in the magnificent clothes they had put on in\nthe princess's honor. Indeed, they all looked so handsome that she found\nit hard to believe the story of their cruelty. While they were talking\nof their journey to her kingdom, however, some of the princes told how\nthey had made sport of a little hare too stupid to know that salt was\nnot the best thing for open wounds, and she noticed that the youngest\nbrother was the only one who did not enjoy the story. At this, rage\nfilled her gentle heart.\n\n\"'Turn out the eighty princes!' she cried to her attendants; 'no one who\nis cruel to so small a creature as a little hare is fit to rule over a\nkingdom. But with you,' she added, turning to the youngest prince, 'will\nI share my throne, for you are a wise and merciful man.'\n\n\"You may be sure the youngest prince was happy to hear that, for, after\nonce seeing the beautiful princess, the thought of parting from her was\nlike lead in his breast.\n\n\"So the cruel brothers were drummed out of the palace with shouts of\nscorn; but the gentle prince and princess went into the garden to thank\nthe little hare. They could not find him, however, search as they would;\nfor as soon as he learned of the success of his plan, he had hopped away\nto see the world, wiser for his day's experiences.\"\n\n\"Is that all?\" Alice asked.\n\n\"That is all,\" Nurse answered. \"And now it is time for you to go to\nbed.\"\n\n [Illustration: Top of a steel war-hat\n Some of the eighty ill-natured and greatly dissatisfied princes\n Another war-hat]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: THE LITTLE BROTHER OF LOO-LEE LOO]\n\nBy MARGARET JOHNSON\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\n In flowery, fair Cathay,\n That kingdom far away,\n Where, odd as it seems, 't is always night when here we are\n having day,\n In the time of the great Ching-Wang,\n In the city of proud Shi-Bang,\n In the glorious golden days of old when sage and poet sang,\n\n There lived a nobleman who\n Was known as the Prince Choo-Choo.\n (It was long before the Chinaman wore his beautiful silken queue.)\n A learned prince was he,\n As rich as a prince could be,\n And his house so gay had a grand gateway, and a wonderful\n roof, sky-blue.\n\n His garden was bright with tints\n Of blossoming peach and quince,\n And a million flowers whose like has not been seen before or since;\n And set 'mid delicate odors\n Were cute little toy pagodas,\n That looked exactly as if you _might_ go in for ice-cream sodas!\n\n A silver fountain played\n In a bowl of carven jade,\n And pink and white in a crystal pond the waterlilies swayed.\n But never a flower that grew\n In the garden of Prince Choo-Choo\n Was half so fair as his daughter there, the Princess Loo-lee Loo.\n\n [Illustration: LOO-LEE LOO]\n\n Each day she came and sat\n Oh her queer little bamboo mat.\n (And I hope she carried a doll or two, but I can't be sure of that!)\n She watched the fountain toss,\n And she gazed the bridge across,\n And she worked a bit of embroidery fine with a thread of silken\n floss.\n\n [Illustration: LOO-LEE LOO AND LITTLE FING-WEE]\n\n She touched her wee guitar,\n The gift of her prince-papa,\n And she hummed a queer little Chinese tune with a Chinese tra-la-la!\n It was all that she had to do\n To keep her from feeling blue,\n For terribly lonely and dull sometimes was poor little Loo-lee Loo.\n\n Her father had kites to fly\n Far up in the free blue sky\n (For a Chinaman loves with this elegant sport his leisure to occupy);\n And what with his drums and gongs,\n And his numerous loud ding-dongs,\n He could have any day, in a princely way, a regular Fourth of July.\n\n Her mother, the fair Su-See,\n Was as busy as she could be,\n Though she never went out, except, perhaps, to a neighboring\n afternoon tea;\n She was young herself, as yet,\n And the minutes that she could get\n She spent in studying up the rules of Elegant Etiquette.\n\n So the princess nibbled her plums,\n And twirled her dear little thumbs,\n And lent sometimes a wistful ear to the beating of distant drums;\n Until one April day--\n _Tsing Ming_, as they would say--\n She saw at the gate a sight that straight took Loo-lee's breath away.\n\n [Illustration: SU-SEE]\n\n Two dimples, soft and meek,\n In a brown little baby cheek,\n Two dear little eyes that met her own in a ravishing glance oblique;\n A chubby hand thrust through\n The palings of bamboo--\n A little Celestial, dropped, it seemed, straight out of the\n shining blue.\n\n A playmate, a friend, a toy,\n A live little baby boy--\n Conceive, if you can, in her lonely state, the Princess\n Loo-lee's joy!\n How, as fast as her feet could toddle\n (Her shoes were a Chinese model),\n She hurried him in, and almost turned his dear little\n wondering noddle.\n\n \"Oh, is it,\" she bent to say\n In her courteous Chinese way,\n \"In my very contemptible garden, dear, your illustrious wish\n to play?\"\n And when he nodded his head\n She knew that he would have said,\n \"My insignificant feet are proud your honored estate to tread!\"\n\n Oh, then, but the garden rang\n With laughter and joy--ting, tang!\n There was never a happier spot that day in the realm of the\n great Ching-Wang!\n And oh, but it waned too soon,\n That golden afternoon,\n When the princess played with her Ray of the Sun, her darling\n Beam of the Moon!\n\n For when the shadows crept\n Where the folded lilies slept,\n Out into the garden all at once the prince her father stepped,\n With a dignified air benign,\n And a smile on his features fine,\n And a perfectly gorgeous gown of silk embroidered with flower\n and vine.\n\n A fan in his princely hand,\n Which he waved with a gesture bland\n (Instead of a gentleman's walking-stick it was carried, you\n understand),\n In splendor of girdle and shoe,\n In a glitter of gold and of blue,\n With the fair Su-See at his side came he, the lordly Prince\n Choo-Choo.\n\n The princess bent her brow\n In a truly celestial bow,\n Saluted her father with filial grace, and made him the grand kotow.\n (For every child that's bright\n Knows well the rule that's right,\n That to knock your head on the ground nine times is the way\n to be polite.)\n\n \"And, pray, what have we here?\"\n In language kind though queer\n The prince observed. \"It looks to me like a little boy, my dear!\"\n \"Why, that's what it is!\" in glee\n The princess cried. \"Fing-Wee--\n Most Perfectly Peerless Prince-Papa, a dear little brother for me!\"\n\n [Illustration: PRINCE CHOO-CHOO]\n\n Loud laughed the Prince Choo-Choo,\n And I fancy he said \"Pooh-pooh!\"\n (That sounds very much like a Chinese word, and expresses\n his feelings, too!)\n And the fair Su-See leaned low.\n \"My Bud of the Rose, you know\n If little Fing-Wee our son should be, your honors to him must go!\"\n\n But the princess's eyes were wet,\n For her dear little heart was set\n On having her way till she quite forgot her daughterly etiquette.\n \"Oh, what do I care!\" she said.\n \"If he only may stay,\" she plead,\n \"I will give him the half of my bowl of rice and all of my fish\n and bread!\"\n\n \"Dear, dear!\" said the Prince Choo-Choo,\n \"Now here is a how-do-you-do!\n Is there nothing, O Jasmine-Flower, instead? A parasol pink or blue?\n A beautiful big balloon?\"\n But she wept to the same old tune,\n \"I'd rather have little Fing-Wee, papa, than anything under the moon!\"\n\n Then the prince he called for lights,\n And he called for the Book of Rites,\n And all of the classical literature that he loved to read o' nights;\n And he read till the dawn of day\n In his very remarkable way,\n From end to beginning, from bottom to top, as only a Chinaman may.\n\n [Illustration: THE TORTOISE TEST]\n\n \"My father adopted a son,\n His father the same had done;\n Some thousands of years ago, it appears, the custom was thus begun.\"\n He stopped for a pinch of snuff;\n His logic was sound, though tough;\n You may rightfully follow what plan you please, if it's only\n antique enough!\n\n \"A son,\" he thoughtfully said,\n \"To serve me with rice and bread;\n To burn the paper above my grave and honor my aged head!\n Oh, try me the tortoise sign\n With a tortoise of ancient line:\n If he turns his toes straight in as he goes, the boy is certainly\n mine!\"\n\n Oho! but the garden rang\n On that wonderful night--ting, tang!\n When a banquet meet was served the \u00e9lite of the city of proud\n Shi-Bang!\n And all who passed that way\n Might read in letters gay\n As long as your arm: \"The Prince Choo-Choo adopts a son to-day!\"\n\n There was knocking of heads galore;\n There were trumpets and drums a score;\n The gay pavilions were lit with millions of lamps from ceiling\n to floor.\n And oh, but the chop-sticks flew\n In the palace of Prince Choo-Choo,\n And the gifts that were brought for the little Fing-Wee would\n fill me a chapter or two.\n\n [Illustration: \"AND THE GIFTS THAT WERE BROUGHT FOR THE LITTLE FING-WEE\n WOULD FILL ME A CHAPTER OR TWO\"]\n\n But with never a single toy,\n The princess cried for joy,\n Nor cared she a jot that they all forgot it was she who had\n found the boy!\n Her dear little heart it sang\n Like a bird in her breast--ting, tang!\n There was never a happier child that night in the realm of\n the great Ching-Wang!\n\n And her mother, the fair Su-See,\n She looked at the little Fing-Wee--\n There were mothers in China some thousands of years before you\n were born, trust me!\n She looked at the children two,\n And down in the dusk and the dew,\n With a tender mist in her eyes she kissed the Princess Loo-lee Loo!\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nTHE CURIOUS CASE OF AH-TOP\n\n(_A Chinese Legend_)\n\n [Illustration]\n\n\n The slant-eyed maidens, when they spied\n The cue of Ah-Top, gaily cried,\n \"It is some mandarin!\"\n The street-boys followed in a crowd;\n No wonder that Ah-Top was proud\n And wore a conscious grin!\n\n But one day Ah-Top's heart grew sad.\n \"My fate,\" he said, \"is quite too bad!\n My cue will hang behind me.\n While others may its beauty know,\n To me there's naught its grace to show,\n And nothing to remind me.\"\n\n [Illustration]\n\n At length he hit upon a plan,\n Exclaiming, \"I'm a clever man!\n I know what I will do:\n I'll simply wheel myself around,\n And then the pigtail will be found\n Where I can see it, too.\"\n\n He spun himself upon his toes,\n He almost fell upon his nose,\n He grew red in the face.\n But when Ah-Top could whirl no more,\n He found the pigtail as before,\n Resolved to keep its place.\n\n \"A'ha!\" he cried, \"I turned too slow.\n Next time, you see, I'll faster go.\n Besides, I stopped too soon.\n Now for a good one! Ah, but stay--\n I'll turn myself the other way!\"\n He looked like a balloon!\n\n So fast he whirled, his cue flew out\n And carried Ah-Top round about.\n An awful moment came--\n The helpless spinner could not stop!\n The poor man had become a top!\n This gave the toy its name.\n\n [Illustration: How it turned out.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL\n\n_A Hindu Tale_\n\n\nThe Jackal stood looking across the river where the crabs lay in the sun\non the sand.\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Jackal, \"if I could only swim, how good those crabs would\nbe! I wish I had a boat or a canoe!\"\n\nJust then the Camel came out of the woods. \"Now,\" said the Jackal, \"if I\ncan only get the Camel to take me across the river! I can ride high up\non his hump, and it will be just as good as a boat.\"\n\n\"Good morning, friend,\" said the Jackal to the Camel. \"Are you hungry? I\nknow a place where the sugar cane grows higher and sweeter than anywhere\nelse.\"\n\n\"Where? Where?\" cried the Camel. \"Tell me, and I will go there at once.\"\n\n\"I could take you to the place,\" said the Jackal, \"but it is across the\nriver, and I cannot swim.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Camel, \"that is all right. Get up on my back and I will\ntake you across, and you can show me where the sugar cane is.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said the Jackal, \"and I will look along the bank of the\nriver and see if I can find any fat crabs on that side.\"\n\n\"Jump up quickly,\" said the Camel, \"it makes me hungry just to think of\nsugar cane.\"\n\nSo the Jackal jumped up on the Camel's back, and the Camel swam across\nthe river, and the Jackal did not get the least bit wet, even the tip of\nhis tail. (The Jackal does not like to get even the tip of his tail\nwet.)\n\nWhen they were across the river the Camel went off to the patch of sugar\ncane, and the Jackal ate the crabs which lay out in the sun on the sand.\nIt was not long until he had eaten as many crabs as he could, and wanted\nto go back to the other side of the river. So he went to where the Camel\nstood in the cane patch.\n\n\"Why, have you finished your crabs?\" asked the Camel.\n\n\"Yes. I cannot eat another one. Let us go back.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Camel, \"I have hardly begun to eat yet.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the Jackal, \"I will go out to the edge of the patch\nand lie down and wait for you.\"\n\nBut the Jackal did not lie down. He was in a hurry to go home, now that\nhe had eaten all the crabs he wanted. So he said: \"I do not want to wait\nhere. I know a little song I can sing that will make that Camel hurry.\"\n\nSo he began to sing. Of course, the Camel did not pay any attention, but\nthe farmer heard, as the Jackal knew he would, and came running out with\nsticks to chase the Jackal. But the Jackal hid in the high cane, and the\nfarmer could not find him. He did find the Camel, however, and called to\nhis boys, and they beat the Camel with sticks and drove him out of the\ncane.\n\nWhen the farmer and his boys had gone, the Jackal came out of the cane\nand found the Camel lying on the sand bruised with the beating he had\ngotten.\n\n\"Oh, friend,\" he exclaimed, \"where have you been? I have been hunting\nfor you in the cane.\"\n\n\"Do not call me friend,\" said the Camel. \"Why did you sing that song\nthat made the farmer come out and beat me?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Jackal, \"did the farmer come out and beat you? That is\ntoo bad. But I always sing a song after dinner.\"\n\n\"Ah, do you?\" said the Camel. \"I did not know that. Very well. Let us go\nhome. Climb up while I am lying down.\"\n\nSo the Jackal climbed upon the Camel's back, and he entered the water\nand began to swim across the river, the Jackal riding high on the hump\nof the camel so as not to get wet, even to the tip of his tail.\n\nWhen they were about the middle of the stream the Camel said: \"I believe\nthat I shall roll over.\"\n\n\"Do not do that,\" exclaimed the Jackal, \"for I shall get wet and be\ndrowned.\"\n\n\"Maybe you will,\" said the Camel; \"but you see I always roll over after\ndinner.\"\n\nSo he rolled over in the water, and the Jackal got wet--first the tip of\nhis tail, and then all over, and was drowned.\n\n\n\n\nHASHNU THE STONECUTTER\n\n_A Japanese Story_\n\n\nHashnu the Stonecutter sat beside the highway cutting stone. It was hard\nwork, and the sun shone hot upon him.\n\n\"Ah me!\" said Hashnu, \"if one only did not have to work all day. I would\nthat I could sit and rest, and not have to ply this heavy mallet.\n\nJust then there was a great commotion, and Hashnu saw a crowd of people\ncoming up the road. When they drew nearer he noticed that one of them\nwas the King. On his right side rode soldiers, all arrayed in armor and\nready to do his bidding, while on the left rode courtiers, seeking to\nserve him and win his favor.\n\nAnd Hashnu, watching, thought what a fine thing it would be to be a\nKing, and to have soldiers to do his bidding, and courtiers to serve\nhim, and he said:\n\n \"Ah me, ah me,\n If Hashnu only a King could be.\"\n\nAt once he heard a voice say: \"Be thou the King.\"\n\nThen in a moment Hashnu found that he was no longer the stonecutter,\nsitting beside the highway with a heavy mallet in his hand, but the\nKing, dressed in armor, riding in the midst of soldiers and courtiers,\nand all about him doing homage.\n\nHe rode very proudly for a while, and his subjects bowed low before him.\nBut the armor was heavy, and the helmet pressed hard upon his brow, and\nhis head throbbed with the weight of it. He was indeed weary and faint\nwith the heat, because, though a King, the sun beat hot upon him!\n\nAnd he said to himself: \"Lo, I am the King, and yet the sun can make me\nfaint and weary. I had thought that to be a King was to be stronger than\nanything else, but the sun is stronger than the King!\"\n\nAnd as they rode further, and the sun still beat hard upon him, he said:\n\n \"Ah me, ah me,\n If Hashnu only the sun could be!\"\n\nThen he heard a voice say: \"Be thou the sun.\"\n\nAnd in a moment he was no longer the King, riding among his courtiers,\nbut the sun, blazing high in the heavens, shining hot upon the fields\nand the meadows. As he did not know how to shine, he allowed his rays to\nfall too fiercely upon the world, and grass and grain were dried up and\nwithered, and men lamented because of the cruelty of the heat. But\nHashnu thought he was doing great things, and was very proud, until a\ncloud came between him and the earth, so that his rays no longer fell\nupon the fields and the cities of men.\n\nAnd Hashnu said: \"Lo, I am the sun, and my rays fell upon the fields and\nthe cities, and all acknowledge my power. But the cloud is stronger than\nthe sun, for it shuts off my rays from the earth.\"\n\nThen, because the cloud would not go, but became heavier and blacker,\nHashnu lamented, and said:\n\n \"Ah me, ah me,\n If Hashnu only the cloud could be.\"\n\nAnd in a moment he was no longer the sun, shining fiercely upon the\nearth, but the cloud, riding in the sky, shutting off the rays of the\nsun, and pouring rain upon the fields and the meadows, filling the\nrivers and the streams to overflowing. But he did not know how to let\ndown the rain wisely, and it fell too heavily, and the rivers rose high\nand destroyed the fields and the cities, and the meadows were turned\ninto swamps, and the grain rotted in the ground, and the wind blew, and\ntrees were uprooted, and houses fell before it. But Hashnu cared for\nnone of these things, for he thought he was doing very finely indeed.\n\nBut as he looked down upon the earth he saw that a rock beside the\nhighway stood unmoved and firm, for all of his raining and blowing. And\nhe said: \"For all I am strong, and can blow down trees and destroy\ncities, and can pour my waters upon the earth and flood the fields and\nthe meadows, yet does that rock defy my power. I, Hashnu, would be\nstronger than the rock!\"\n\nBut the rock was unchanged, and Hashnu, lamenting, said:\n\n \"Ah me, ah me,\n If Hashnu only the rock could be!\"\n\nThen he heard a voice say: \"Be thou the rock.\"\n\nAnd in a moment he was no longer the cloud, with the wind blowing hard,\nand pouring water upon the earth, but the rock, fixed and unmoved beside\nthe highway. Now, at last, he felt that he was stronger than all. But\neven as he rejoiced, he felt the sharp point of a stonecutter's chisel,\nand heard the sound of his heavy mallet striking upon its head. Then he\nknew that, though the water had fallen upon the rock and been unable to\nchange it, and the wind had blown hard against it and had no effect, yet\nwould the stonecutter change and alter it, and make it take whatever\nshape he desired. And he said:\n\n \"Ah me, ah me,\n If Hashnu only the stonecutter could be!\"\n\nAnd he heard a voice say: \"Be thou thyself.\"\n\nThen Hashnu found himself again sitting beside the highway with a\nchisel in his hand, and a mallet on the ground beside him, and the rock\nbefore him. And the King had gone by, and the rays of the sun were now\nshadowed by the cloud, from which no rain fell, but only a grateful\nshade. And Hashnu said:\n\n\"The sun was stronger than the King, the cloud was stronger than the\nsun, the rock was stronger than the cloud, but I, Hashnu, am stronger\nthan all.\"\n\nAnd so he worked on, now well content to do each day his added task.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL[N]\n\n\nOnce upon a time a Tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get\nout through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he\nfailed.\n\nBy chance a poor Brahman came by. \"Let me out of this cage, oh, pious\none!\" cried the Tiger.\n\n\"Nay, my friend,\" replied the Brahman, mildly; \"you would probably eat\nme if I did.\"\n\n\"Not at all!\" declared the Tiger; \"on the contrary, I should be forever\ngrateful, and serve you as a slave!\"\n\nNow, when the Tiger sobbed, and sighed, and wept, and swore, the pious\nBrahman's heart softened; and at last he consented to open the door of\nthe cage. Out popped the Tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried: \"What\na fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being\ncooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!\"\n\nIn vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a\npromise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to\nquestion as to the justice of the Tiger's action.\n\nSo the Brahman asked first a Pipal Tree what it thought of the matter;\nbut the Pipal Tree replied coldly: \"What have you to complain about?\nDon't I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don't\nthey in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't\nwhimper--be a man!\"\n\nThen the Brahman, sad at heart, went farther afield till he saw a\nBuffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it\nanswered: \"You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave\nmilk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke\nme here, and give me refuse as fodder!\"\n\nThe Brahman, still more sad, asked the Road to give him its opinion.\n\n\"My dear sir,\" said the Road, \"how foolish you are to expect anything\nelse! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and\nsmall, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of\ntheir pipes and the husks of their grain!\"\n\nOn this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a\nJackal, who called out: \"Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look\nas miserable as a fish out of water!\"\n\nThe Brahman told him all that had occurred.\n\n\"How very confusing!\" said the Jackal, when the recital was ended;\n\"would you mind telling me again, for everything has got so mixed up?\"\n\nThe Brahman told it all over again, but the Jackal shook his head in a\ndistracted sort of way, and still could not understand.\n\n\"It's very odd,\" said he, sadly, \"but it all seems to go in at one ear\nand out of the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and\nthen perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.\"\n\nSo they returned to the cage, by which the Tiger was waiting for the\nBrahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.\n\n\"You've been away a long time!\" growled the savage beast, \"but now let\nus begin our dinner.\"\n\n\"Our dinner!\" thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked\ntogether with fright; \"what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!\"\n\n\"Give me five minutes, my lord!\" he pleaded, \"in order that I may\nexplain matters to the Jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.\"\n\nThe Tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again,\nnot missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.\n\n\"Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!\" cried the Jackal, wringing its\npaws. \"Let me see! How did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the\nTiger came walking by--\"\n\n\"Pooh!\" interrupted the Tiger, \"what a fool you are! I was in the cage.\"\n\n\"Of course!\" cried the Jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; \"yes!\nI was in the cage--no I wasn't--dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me\nsee--the Tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by--no,\nthat's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I\nshall never understand!\"\n\n\"Yes, you shall!\" returned the Tiger, in a rage at the Jackal's\nstupidity; \"I'll make you understand! Look here! I am the Tiger--\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord!\"\n\n\"And that is the Brahman!\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord!\"\n\n\"And that is the cage!\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord!\"\n\n\"And I was in the cage--do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes--no! Please, my lord--\"\n\n\"Well?\" cried the Tiger, impatiently.\n\n\"Please, my lord!--how did you get in?\"\n\n\"How!--why in the usual way, of course!\"\n\n\"Oh, dear me!--my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be\nangry, my lord, but what is the usual way?\"\n\nAt this the Tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried:\n\"This way! Now do you understand how it was?\"\n\n\"Perfectly!\" grinned the Jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, \"and\nif you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they\nwere!\"\n\n [N] From \"Indian Fairy Tales,\" edited by Joseph Jacobs; used\n by permission of the publishers, G. P. Putnam's Sons.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE WILLOW PATTERN PLATE\n\nRETOLD BY M. ALSTON BUCKLEY\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in China a rich and haughty mandarin, who\nhad great riches in lands, and horses, and priceless jewels. This great\nman had one lovely daughter with soft black eyes, and raven hair that\nscarcely could be told in texture from the silken robes she wore. The\nmandarin loved his daughter and showered dazzling jewels on her, and\nbought rich robes, heavy with choicest needlework, that she might wear\nthem.\n\nNow the mandarin had a faithful secretary, a young man named Chang,\nwhose every thought was given to the business of the man he served. But\nas he went about the house with downcast eyes, Chang saw the daughter of\nthe mandarin trip lightly to her father's side to whisper in the ear of\nher indulgent parent, or flash across the hall, or through the garden\nwhere she fed her goldfish in the lake, and when her mother called her\nname, Kong Lee, it seemed to him like sounds of liquid music. The\nmandarin talked always of his secretary, and said that he was honest and\ntrue and good, and told the truth and did his work as well as ever any\nman could do it.\n\nKong Lee learned to think of him and love him.\n\nBut the mandarin had a friend, a rich old man, who wished to marry Kong\nLee, and take her far away to be the mistress of his castle. Kong Lee\nrefused to marry this old man, and to punish her, her father shut her up\nin the top room of a lonely house that stood on the lake shore. From her\nwindows she could see the lake, and she could see the willow tree that\ndipped its drooping branches in the smooth, still water and seemed to\nhang its head and weep for her. And when the Spring came on and she\ncould hear the singing of the birds, she wished that she could go and\nwalk about the garden where she could see the sweet blossoms that hung\nlike a veil of pink over the peach trees. In her loneliness she wept,\nand wrote sad poetry, which she threw into the water.\n\nAll this time Chang grieved for her, and sent her gifts to comfort her,\nand when his work was done, he walked along the shore and thought of\nher. But one day Kong Lee caught sight of him standing on the shore, and\nshe thought, \"Chang will help me.\" So she took a cocoanut, and cut the\nshell in two and made a little boat of half of it. Then she made a\nlittle sail of fine, carved ivory, on the sail she wrote a message\nasking Chang to help her and threw the boat out of the window. The\nlittle skiff sailed out over the lake, then fell and splashed into the\nwater, the wind caught the sail and the small craft sailed bravely on.\nChang saw it, waded out, and caught it, read the message, and went to\nfind Kong Lee.\n\nKong Lee was waiting for him, and they fled in haste, taking her box of\njewels with them. The mandarin saw them, and taking a whip he hastened\nafter them to beat them back again, for he had great fear of his\nfriend's anger. But they were too swift for him, and reached the other\nside, where Chang's boat was waiting to take them to his house.\n\nThere they were married, and lived in happiness until the mandarin's\nwicked friend found where they were, and secretly, at night, sailed down\nthe lake and burned the house when they were sleeping. But their loving\nspirits became two doves that rested in the trees and flew about the\nplaces they had loved.\n\nAnd if you look at a blue china plate you will see there the house where\nKong Lee was shut up, the willow tree she watched, Kong Lee and Chang\nrunning across the bridge followed by her father with his whip, the\nfunny house-boat that carried them away to Chang's little house that\nalmost is hidden by the trees, and at the top, the pair of doves in\nwhich the Chinese poet believed the spirits of Kong Lee and Chang still\nlived.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: \"HA, HA, HA!\" HE SAID TO HIMSELF. \"HOW FOOLISH BROTHER\n FOX IS\"]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: BRER RABBIT _and_ HIS NEIGHBORS]\n\n\n\n\nBROTHER FOX'S TAR BABY[O]\n\nTRANSLATED BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS\n\n\nOnce upon a time Brother Fox and Brother Rabbit lived near each other in\nthe woods. But they had to go a long way each morning to get water from\na spring.\n\nOne day Brother Fox said to Brother Rabbit: \"What's the use of taking a\nlong walk every morning. Let us dig a well of our own.\"\n\n\"I shall no longer go to the spring,\" said Brother Rabbit. \"From this\ntime on I shall drink the dew from the grass and the flowers. Why should\nI work to dig a well?\"\n\nBrother Rabbit knew by the way Brother Fox talked that he was going to\ndig the well anyway.\n\n\"Just as you please,\" said Brother Fox. \"Then I will dig the well\nmyself. And I will drink the water all by myself.\"\n\nThe next morning Brother Fox began to dig a well by a big tree. He\nworked, and worked, and worked. Brother Rabbit was hiding in a bush near\nby and watching Brother Fox.\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha!\" he said to himself. \"How foolish Brother Fox is! I guess I\nshall soon have all the water I want. Ha, ha, ha!\"\n\nThat night, while Brother Fox was asleep, Brother Rabbit stole quietly\ndown to the well by the big tree, and drank and laughed, and drank and\nlaughed.\n\n\"I guess I can have all the water I want,\" said Brother Rabbit. \"Brother\nFox was foolish to do all the work.\"\n\nThe next day, when Brother Fox went to get some water, he saw rabbit\ntracks in the mud.\n\n\"Ah, ha! Brother Rabbit,\" said Brother Fox to himself, \"so that's the\nway you drink the dew from the grass and the flowers! Well, well, I\nthink I can catch you at your trick!\"\n\nBrother Fox ran home as fast as he could and made a great big doll of\nwood, as big as a baby. He covered the wooden doll with black, sticky\ntar. Then he put a little cap on its head. At sunset, he put the tar\nbaby out beside the well.\n\n\"I think I shall get Brother Rabbit this time,\" he said, as he went home\nlaughing to himself all the way.\n\nSoon Brother Rabbit came hopping through the bushes. He looked first\nthis way, then that. The least noise frightened him. When he saw the tar\nbaby, he sat up straight and peeped at it through the leaves.\n\n\"Hullo, there! Who are you?\" he said at last.\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\n\"Who are you, I say?\" he asked in a louder tone.\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nThen Brother Rabbit went right up close to the tar baby.\n\n\"Why don't you answer me?\" he shouted.\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\n\"See here!\" he shouted. \"Have you no tongue? Speak, or I'll hit you!\"\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nBrother Rabbit raised his right hand and--biff! his hand stuck fast.\n\n\"Here! What's this?\" he cried. \"Let me go, or I'll hit you again.\"\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nAt that--blip! he hit the tar baby with the other hand. That stuck fast,\ntoo.\n\n\"Listen to me, you rascal!\" cried Brother Rabbit. \"If you don't let me\ngo, I'll kick you!\"\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nBim! Brother Rabbit's right foot stuck fast.\n\n\"See here, you imp!\" he shrieked. \"If I kick you with my left foot,\nyou'll think the world has come to an end!\"\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nBom! the left foot stuck fast.\n\n\"Look out, now!\" Brother Rabbit screamed. \"Let me loose, or I'll butt\nyou into the well with my head! Let me go, I say!\"\n\nThe tar baby said nothing.\n\nBuff! Brother Rabbit's head stuck fast.\n\nAnd there was Brother Rabbit with both hands, and both feet, and his\nhead stuck fast.\n\nThe next morning Brother Fox came out to see how the tar baby was\ngetting along. He saw Brother Rabbit, and he laughed to himself until\nhis sides ached.\n\n\"Hey, Brother Rabbit!\" he called. \"What are you doing? How do you like\nmy tar baby? I thought you drank dew from the grass and the flowers! I\nhave you now, Brother Rabbit, I have you now.\"\n\n\"Let me go, Brother Fox!\" cried Brother Rabbit. \"Let me go! I am your\nfriend. Don't hurt me!\"\n\n\"Friend? You are a thief,\" said Brother Fox. \"Who wants a thief for a\nfriend?\" Then he ran quickly to his home in the woods and built a big\nfire.\n\nSoon Brother Fox tore Brother Rabbit loose from the tar baby, threw him\nover his shoulder, and started for the fire.\n\n\"Roast rabbit is good,\" said Brother Fox.\n\n\"Roast me! Burn me! Anything!\" said Brother Rabbit, \"Only don't throw me\ninto the brier patch.\"\n\n\"I've a mind to throw you into the well,\" said Brother Fox, as he turned\nand looked back.\n\n\"Drown me! Kill me! Anything! Only don't throw me into the brier patch,\"\nsaid Brother Rabbit. \"The briers will tear my flesh and scratch my eyes\nout. Throw me into the fire! Throw me into the well!\"\n\n\"Ah, ha, Brother Rabbit!\" said Brother Fox. \"So you don't like briers?\nThen here you go!\" and he threw Brother Rabbit away over into the brier\npatch.\n\nAs soon as Brother Rabbit touched the ground, he sat up and laughed, and\nlaughed, and laughed.\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha! Brother Fox!\" said Brother Rabbit. \"Thank you, dear Brother\nFox, thank you! I was born and reared in a brier patch.\"\n\nThen Brother Rabbit ran off in great glee, chuckling over the trick he\nhad played on Brother Fox.\n\n [O] From \"Evening Tales,\" by Frederic Ortoli; used by\n permission of the publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RABBIT AND THE PEAS\n\nBY MRS. M. R. ALLEN\n\n\nA long time ago there was a Bear that had a fine pea patch. He and his\nwife had to work in the field every day, so they left their little girl\nat home to keep house. One fine morning Br'er (which means \"Brother\")\nRabbit came up to the house and called the little girl: \"Mary, Mary,\nyour father and mother told me to come up here and tell you to put me in\nthe pea patch and let me have as many peas as I want.\" So Mary put him\nin, and he stayed there until nearly 12 o'clock, and then he begun\ncalling: \"Little girl, little girl, come and let me out; I'm full for\nthis time!\"\n\nSo she let him out, and he went home. At dinner when her father and\nmother came home and saw their pea patch they were angry, and said: \"Who\nhas been in these peas?\" \"Why, didn't you send Br'er Rabbit to get as\nmany as he wanted?\" said Mary. \"No, I didn't; no, I didn't;\" said Mr.\nBear. \"And the next time that rascal comes here with that sort of tale,\nyou just keep him in there until I come home.\"\n\nSo the next morning Br'er Rabbit came back again, and called: \"Mary,\nMary, your father told me to tell you to put me in the pea patch, and\nlet me have all the peas I want.\" \"All right,\" said Mary; \"come on.\" So\nshe put him in and fastened him up.\n\nAs it began to grow late, Mr. Rabbit began to call: \"Little girl, little\ngirl, come and let me out!\" \"All right,\" said Mary, \"when I put down my\nbread for supper.\" After a while he called again: \"Little girl, little\ngirl, come let me out!\" \"When I milk my cow,\" said Mary. When she\nfinished milking he called again, and she said: \"Wait till I turn my cow\nout.\"\n\nBy that time Mr. Bear came home and found him in his pea patch, and\nasked him what he was doing in there. \"Your little girl told me you said\nI might have some peas,\" said Br'er Rabbit. \"Well,\" said Mr. Bear, \"I'll\nput you in this box until I get rested and eat my supper, then I'll show\nyou a trick or two.\" So he locked him in the box and went to the house.\n\nAfter a while Br'er Fox came along the road, and Br'er Rabbit called\nhim, and Br'er Fox said: \"What are you doing in there?\" \"They are going\nto have a ball here to-night and want me to play the fiddle for them, so\nthey put me in here. I wouldn't disappoint them,\" said Br'er Rabbit.\n\"But, Br'er Fox, you always could beat me playing the fiddle. Now, they\noffer to pay two dollars for every tune. Suppose you take my place; my\nwife is sick and I must go home--if I can get off.\"\n\n\"All right,\" said Mr. Fox. \"I'm always willing to make money, and if you\ndon't want to stay I will take your place.\"\n\n [Illustration: \"WHO ARE YOU, I SAY?\" HE ASKED IN A LOUDER VOICE]\n\n\"Well, look on top of the box and get the key. I saw Mr. Bear put it\nthere,\" said Br'er Rabbit. So Br'er Fox unlocked the door, and Br'er\nRabbit hopped out and locked Br'er Fox in.\n\nSo after supper they all came out, and the little girl ran up to the box\nand looked in, and said: \"Oh, mamma! just come and see how this Rabbit\nhas growed!\"\n\nMr. Fox said: \"I ain't no Rabbit!\" \"Well,\" said Mr. Bear, \"how came you\nin there?\" \"Because Br'er Rabbit asked me to take his place, and play at\nyour ball to-night,\" said Mr. Fox.\n\n\"Well, Br'er Rabbit has fooled you badly, Fox. But I will have to whip\nyou, anyway, for letting him out. I'll help you find Br'er Rabbit.\"\n\"I'll hunt him till I die, to pay him back for fooling me so,\" said Mr.\nFox. So they all started out to find Br'er Rabbit.\n\nAnd they soon came upon him, and he began to run, and all of them after\nhim. And they got him in a tight place, and he ran up a hollow tree.\n\nAnd they had to go back for their axes. So they put a Frog at the tree\nto watch him to keep him from getting away. After they were gone, Mr.\nFrog looked up and saw Br'er Rabbit.\n\n [Illustration: THEY HAD TO GO LOOK FOR AXES. SO THEY PUT A FROG AT THE\n TREE TO WATCH]\n\n\"What's dat you chewing?\" said Mr. Frog. \"Tobacco,\" said Br'er Rabbit.\n\"Give me some,\" said Mr. Frog. \"Well,\" said Br'er Rabbit, \"look up here\nand open your eyes and mouth wide.\" So he filled the Frog's eyes full of\ntrash. And while Mr. Frog was rubbing his eyes trying to get the trash\nout so he could see, Br'er Rabbit ran out and got away.\n\nWhen Mr. Bear and Mr. Fox got back with their axes, they asked Mr. Frog:\n\"Whar's Mr. Rabbit?\" He said: \"He's in dar.\" They cut down the tree and\ndidn't find him. Then they asked Mr. Frog again: \"Whar's Mr. Rabbit?\"\n\"He's in dar,\" said Mr. Frog. So they split the tree open, and still\ndidn't find him. And they asked Mr. Frog again, \"Whar's Mr. Rabbit, I\nsay?\" \"He's in dar,\" said Mr. Frog.\n\n\"Now, Mr. Frog,\" they said, \"you have let Mr. Rabbit get away, and we\nare going to kill you in his place.\"\n\nSo Mr. Frog said: \"Wait till I go to my praying ground, and say my\nprayers.\" So they told him he might have five minutes.\n\nAnd there was a pond near by, and a log on the edge of it. So when Frog\ngot on the log he bowed his head and said: \"Ta-hoo! ta-hoo! ta-h-o-o!\"\nSplash! and he was gone! And the Bear and Fox were outwitted again.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: BR'ER RABBIT'S FISHING]\n\nBR'ER RABBIT'S FISHING[P]\n\n\nOne day, Br'er Rabbit, and Br'er Fox, and Br'er Bear, and Br'er Coon,\nand all the rest of them were clearing up a new piece of ground to plant\nsome corn.\n\nThe sun got sort of hot, and Br'er Rabbit he got tired; but he didn't\nsay so, 'cause he 'fraid the others'd call him lazy, so he kept on\nclearing away the rubbish and piling it up, till by-and-by he holler out\nthat he got a thorn in his hand. Then he took and slipped off, and\nhunted for a cool place to rest in.\n\nAfter a while Br'er Rabbit he see a well, with a bucket hanging in it.\n\n\"That looks cool,\" says Br'er Rabbit, says he, \"and cool I 'spects it\nis. I'll just about get in there and take a nap,\" says he. And with that\nin he jumped.\n\nNo sooner was Br'er Rabbit in, than the bucket began to go down, and\nthere was no wusser scared beast since the world began than this here\nBr'er Rabbit was _then_. He fairly shook with fright. He know where he\ncome from, but he dunno where he going. Presently he feel the bucket hit\nthe water, and there it sat. Br'er Rabbit he keep mighty still, 'cause\nhe dunno what be going to happen next. He just lay there, and shook and\nshivered.\n\nNow, Br'er Fox he always kep' one eye on Br'er Rabbit and, when Br'er\nRabbit slipped off the new ground, Br'er Fox he sneaked after him. He\nknew Br'er Rabbit was after something or other, and he took and crept\noff to watch him. Br'er Fox see Br'er Rabbit come to the well and stop,\nand then he see him jump into the bucket, and then, lo and behold, he\nsee him go down out of sight.\n\nBr'er Fox was the most astonished fox that ever you set eyes on. He sat\noff there in the bushes, and he think and think, but he make no heads or\ntails of this kind of business. Then he says to himself, says he:\n\n\"Well, if this don't beat my times,\" says he, \"then Joe's dead and Sal's\na widder,\" says he. \"Right down there in that well Br'er Rabbit keeps\nhis money hid, and if it ain't that, then he's been and gone and\ndiscovered a gold mine; and if it ain't that, then I'm a-going to see\nwhat _is_ there,\" says he.\n\nBr'er Fox crept up a little nigher, he did, and he listen, but he hear\nnothing, and he kept on getting nigher, and yet he hear nothing.\nBy-and-by he get up close. He peep down; he see nothing, and he hear\nnothing.\n\nAll this while Br'er Rabbit was nearly scared out of his skin, and he\n'fraid to move, 'cause the bucket might keel over and spill him out into\nthe water.\n\nThen old Br'er Fox holler out:\n\n\"Hallo, Br'er Rabbit! Who you visiting down there?\" says he.\n\n\"Who? Me? Oh, I'm just a-fishing, Br'er Fox,\" says Br'er Rabbit, says\nhe. \"I just said to myself that I'd sort of surprise you all with a lot\nof fishes for dinner; and so here I is, and here's the fishes. I'm\nfishing, Br'er Fox,\" says Br'er Rabbit, says he.\n\n\"Is there many of 'em down there, Br'er Rabbit?\" says Br'er Fox.\n\n\"Lots of 'em, Br'er Fox. Scores and scores of 'em. The water is just\nalive with 'em. Come down, and help me haul 'em up, Br'er Fox,\" says old\nBr'er Rabbit, says he.\n\n\"How 'm I going to get down, Br'er Rabbit?\"\n\n\"Jump into the other bucket, Br'er Fox. It'll fetch you down all safe\nand sound.\"\n\nBr'er Rabbit he talk so happy and talk so sweet, that Br'er Fox he jump\ninto the bucket, he did, and as he went down, of course his weight\npulled Br'er Rabbit up. When they passed one another half-way down,\nBr'er Rabbit he sing out:\n\n \"Good-by, Br'er Fox, take care of your clothes,\n For this is the way the world goes;\n Some goes up, and some goes down,\n You'll get to the bottom all safe and soun'.\"\n\nWhen Br'er Rabbit get out, he gallop off and tell the folks what the\nwell belong to that Br'er Fox was down in there muddying up the drinking\nwater, and then he gallop back to the well and holler down to Br'er Fox:\n\n \"Here comes a man with a great big gun;\n When he hauls you up, you cut and run.\"\n\nBut in about half an hour both of them were back in the new ground,\nworking as if they never heard of no well, 'cept that every now and then\nBr'er Rabbit burst out and laugh, and old Br'er Fox he'd get a spell of\nthe dry grins.\n\n [P] From \"More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit,\" published by\n Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their\n permission.\n\n\n\n\nBR'ER POSSUM LOVES PEACE\n\n\nOne night Br'er Possum called for Br'er Coon, and they rambled forth to\nsee how the others were getting along. Br'er Possum he ate his fill of\nfruit, and Br'er Coon he scooped up a lot of frogs and tadpoles. They\nambled along, just as sociable as a basket of kittens, till by-and-by\nthey heard Mr. Dog talking to himself off in the woods.\n\n\"S'pose he runs upon us, Br'er Possum, what you going to do?\" says Br'er\nCoon.\n\nBr'er Possum sort of laugh round the corners of his mouth.\n\n\"Oh, if he comes, Br'er Coon, I'm going to stand by you,\" says Br'er\nPossum. \"What are _you_ going to do?\" says he.\n\n\"Who? Me?\" says Br'er Coon. \"If he runs up on to me, I lay I'll give him\na twist,\" says he.\n\nMr. Dog he came and he came. He didn't wait to say How-d'ye-do. He just\nsailed into the two of them. The very first pass he made, Br'er Possum\nfetched a grin from ear to ear, and keeled over as if he was dead. Then\nMr. Dog he sailed into Br'er Coon, but Br'er Coon was cut out for that\nkind of business, and he fairly wiped up the face of the earth with Mr.\nDog. When Mr. Dog got a chance to make himself scarce, he took it, and\nwhat was left of him went skaddling through the woods as if it was shot\nout of a gun. Br'er Coon he sort of licked his clothes into shape, and\nracked off, and Br'er Possum he lay as if he was dead, till by-and-by he\nlooked up, sort of careful-like, and when he found the coast clear he\nscrambled up and scampered off as if something was after him.\n\nNext time Br'er Possum met Br'er Coon, Br'er Coon refused to reply to\nhis How-d'ye-do, and this made Br'er Possum feel mighty bad, 'cause they\nused to make so many excursions together.\n\n\"What makes you hold your head so high?\" says Br'er Possum, says he.\n\n\"I ain't running with cowards these days,\" says Br'er Coon. \"When I\nwants you, I'll send for you,\" says he.\n\nThen Br'er Possum got very angry. \"Who's a coward?\" says he.\n\n\"You is,\" says Br'er Coon, \"that's who. I ain't associating with them\nwhat lies down on the ground and plays dead when there's a free fight\ngoing on,\" says he.\n\nThen Br'er Possum grin and laugh fit to kill hisself.\n\n\"Lor'! Br'er Coon, you don't think I done that 'cause I was afraid, does\nyou?\" says he. \"Why, I were no more afraid than you is this minute. What\nwas there to be skeered at?\" says he. \"I knew you'd get away with Mr.\nDog if I didn't, and I just lay there watching you shake him, waiting to\nput in when the time came,\" says he.\n\n [Illustration: BR'ER POSSUM LAY AS IF HE WAS DEAD]\n\nBr'er Coon turn up his nose.\n\n\"That's a mighty likely tale,\" says he. \"When Mr. Dog no more than\ntouched you before you keeled over and lay there stiff,\" says he.\n\n\"That's just what I was going to tell you about,\" says Br'er Possum. \"I\nweren't no more skeered 'n you is now, and I was going to give Mr. Dog a\nsample of my jaw,\" says he, \"but I'm the most ticklish chap that ever\nyou set eyes on, and no sooner did Mr. Dog put his nose down among my\nribs than I got to laughing, and I laugh till I hadn't no more use of my\nlimbs,\" says he; \"and it's a mercy for Mr. Dog that I _was_ ticklish,\n'cause a little more and I'd have ate him up,\" says he. \"I don't mind\nfighting, Br'er Coon, any more than you does, but I'm blessed if I can\nstand tickling. Get me in a row where there ain't no tickling allowed,\nand I'm your man,\" says he.\n\nAnd to this day Br'er Possum's bound to surrender when you touch him in\nthe short ribs, and he'll laugh even if he knows he's going to be\nsmashed for it.\n\n\n\n\nBR'ER FOX TACKLES OLD BR'ER TARRYPIN[Q]\n\n\nOne day Br'er Fox struck up with Br'er Tarrypin right in the middle of\nthe big road. Br'er Tarrypin he heard Br'er Fox coming, and he say to\nhisself that he'd sort of better keep one eye open; but Br'er Fox was\nmonstrous polite, and he begin, he did, and say he hadn't seen Br'er\nTarrypin this ever so long.\n\n\"Hallo, Br'er Tarrypin, where you been this long-come-short?\" says Br'er\nFox, says he.\n\n\"Lounging round,\" says Br'er Tarrypin.\n\n\"You don't look sprucy, like you did, Br'er Tarrypin,\" says Br'er Fox.\n\n\"Lounging round and suffering,\" says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.\n\nThen the talk sort of run on like this:\n\n\"What ails you, Br'er Tarrypin? Your eye look mighty red,\" says Br'er\nFox.\n\n\"Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is. _You_ ain't been lounging\nround and suffering,\" says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.\n\n\"_Both_ eyes red, and you look like you is mighty weak, Br'er Tarrypin,\"\nsays Br'er Fox, says he.\n\n\"Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is,\" says Br'er Tarrypin, says\nhe.\n\n\"What ails you now?\" says Br'er Fox.\n\n\"Took a walk the other day, and Mr. Man come along and set the field on\nfire. Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is,\" says Br'er Tarrypin,\nsays he.\n\n\"How you get out of the fire, Br'er Tarrypin?\" says Br'er Fox.\n\n\"Sat and took it, Br'er Fox,\" says Br'er Tarrypin, says he, \"sat and\ntook it; and the smoke got in my eye, and the fire scorched my back,\"\nsays Br'er Tarrypin, says he.\n\n\"Likewise it burn your tail off,\" says Br'er Fox, says he.\n\n\"Oh, no, there's my tail, Br'er Fox,\" says Br'er Tarrypin, and with that\nhe uncurl his tail from under his shell, and no sooner did he do that\nthan Br'er Fox grab at it and holler out:\n\n\"Oh, yes, Br'er Terrapin! Oh, yes! And so you's the one what lam me on\nthe head the other day, is you? You's in with Br'er Rabbit, is you?\nWell, I'm going to out you.\"\n\nBr'er Tarrypin he beg and he beg, but it weren't no use. Then he beg\nBr'er Fox not to drown him. Br'er Fox ain't making no promise. Then he\nbeg Br'er Fox to burn him, 'cause now he used to fire. Br'er Fox he say\nnothing. By-and-by Br'er Fox drag Br'er Tarrypin off little ways below\nthe spring, and he souse him under the water.\n\nThen Br'er Tarrypin he began to holler out:\n\n\"Turn loose that stump-root and catch hold of me!\"\n\nBr'er Fox he holler back:\n\n\"I ain't got hold of no stump-root, and I is got hold of you.\"\n\n\"Catch hold of me, I'm a-drowning--I'm a-drowning; turn loose that\nstump-root and catch hold of me!\"\n\nSure enough, Br'er Fox turned loose Br'er Tarrypin's tail, and Br'er\nTarrypin he went down to the bottom!\n\nWas Br'er Tarrypin drowned, then? Not a bit of it. Is _you_ drowned when\nyour mammy tucks you up in bed?\n\n [Illustration: BY-AND-BY BR'ER FOX DRAG BR'ER TARRYPIN OFF]\n\n [Q] From \"More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit,\" published by\n Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their\n permission.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: HOW COUSIN WILDCAT SERVED BR'ER FOX]\n\nHOW COUSIN WILDCAT SERVED BR'ER FOX[R]\n\n\nBr'er Rabbit and Br'er Fox had both been paying calls one evening at the\nsame house. They sat there, and after a while Br'er Rabbit looked out,\nand said:\n\n\"Now then, folks and friends, I must say good-by. Cloud coming up\nyonder, and before we know it, the rain'll be a-pouring.\"\n\nThen Br'er Fox he up and says he 'spects _he_ better be getting on,\n'cause he doesn't want to get his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes wet. So\nthey set out.\n\nWhile they were going down the big road, talking at one another, Br'er\nFox he took and stopped, and said:\n\n\"Look here, Br'er Rabbit, look here! If my eyes don't deceive, here's\nthe tracks where Mr. Dog's been along, and they're quite fresh!\"\n\nBr'er Rabbit he sidle up and look. Then he say:\n\n\"That there track ain't never fit Mr. Dog's foot. What's more,\" says he,\n\"I been acquainted with him what made that track too long ago to talk\nabout.\"\n\n\"Br'er Rabbit, please, sir, tell me his name.\"\n\nBr'er Rabbit he laughs, as if he was making light of something or other.\n\n\"If I makes no mistakes, Br'er Fox, the poor creature what made that\ntrack is Cousin Wildcat; no more and no less.\"\n\n\"How big is he, Br'er Rabbit?\"\n\n\"Just about your heft, Br'er Fox.\" Then Br'er Rabbit make like talking\nto himself. \"Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, to be sure! Many and many's the\ntimes I see my old grand-daddy kick and cuff Cousin Wildcat. If you want\nsome fun, Br'er Fox, now's the time.\"\n\nBr'er Fox he up and axed how he's going to have any fun.\n\nBr'er Rabbit he say: \"Easy enough. Just go and tackle old Cousin\nWildcat, and lam him round.\"\n\nBr'er Fox he sorter scratch his ear, and say: \"Eh, eh, Br'er Rabbit, I'm\n'fraid. His track too much like Mr. Dog.\"\n\nBr'er Rabbit he sat flat down in the road, and holler, and laugh. \"Shoo,\nBr'er Fox!\" says he, \"who'd ha' thought you so skeery? Just come and\nlook at these here tracks. Is there any sign of claw anywheres?\"\n\nBr'er Fox was obliged to agree that there weren't no sign of claw. Br'er\nRabbit say: \"Well, then, if he ain't got no claw, how's he going to hurt\nyou, Br'er Fox?\"\n\nBr'er Fox took another good look at the track, and then he and Br'er\nRabbit put out to follow it up.\n\nThey kept on and on, till by-and-by they ran up with the creature. Br'er\nRabbit he holler out mighty biggity: \"Hallo, there! what you doing?\"\n\nThe creature look round, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit say:\n\"Oh, you needn't look so sulky! We'll make you talk before we've done\nwith you! Come, now, what you doing there?\"\n\nThe creature rub hisself against a tree just as you see these here house\ncats rub against a chair, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit\nholler: \"What you come bothering us for when we ain't been bothering\nyou? You thinks I don't know who you is, but I does. I'll let you know I\ngot a better man here than what my grand-daddy been, and I'll be bound\nhe'll make you talk.\"\n\nThe creature leaned harder against the tree, and sort of ruffled up his\nbristles, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit he say: \"Go up,\nBr'er Fox, and if he refuse to speak, slap him down. That's the way my\ngrand-daddy did. If he dares to run, I'll just whirl in and catch him.\"\n\nBr'er Fox he look sort of dubious, but he start toward the creature. Old\nCousin Wildcat walk all round the tree rubbing hisself, but he ain't\nsaying nothing. Br'er Fox he went up a little nigher. Cousin Wildcat\nstop rubbing on the tree, and sat upon his behind legs with his front\npaws in the air, and balances hisself by leaning against the tree, but\nhe ain't saying nothing.\n\nBr'er Rabbit he squall out: \"Oh, you needn't put up your hands, and try\nand beg off. That's the way you fooled my old grand-daddy; but you can't\nfool me. All your sitting up and begging ain't going to help you. Hit\nhim, Br'er Fox! If he runs, I'll catch him!\"\n\nBr'er Fox he sort of took heart. He sidled up toward him, and just as he\nwas making ready to slap him, old Cousin Wildcat drew back, and fetched\nBr'er Fox a wipe across the stomach.\n\nThat there Cousin Wildcat fetched him a wipe across the stomach, and you\nmight have heard him squall for miles and miles. Little more and the\ncreature would have torn Br'er Fox in two. Once the creature made a pass\nat him, Br'er Rabbit knew what was going to happen, yet all the same he\ntook and hollered:\n\n\"Hit him again, Br'er Fox! hit him again! I'm a-backing you, Br'er Fox!\nHit him again!\"\n\nWhile Br'er Rabbit was going on in this way, Br'er Fox was squatting on\nthe ground, holding his stomach with both hands and moaning:\n\n\"I'm ruined, Br'er Rabbit! I'm ruined! Fetch the doctor! I'm teetotally\nruined!\"\n\nAbout this time Cousin Wildcat took and went for a walk. Br'er Rabbit\nmake like he astonished that Br'er Fox is hurted. He took and examine\nthe place, and he up and say: \"It look to me, Br'er Fox, that that\nowdacious villain took and struck you with a reaping hook.\"\n\nWith that Br'er Rabbit lit out for home, and when he got out of sight he\ntook and shook his hands, just like a cat when she gets the water on her\nfoots. Then he laugh and laugh till he can laugh no more.\n\n [R] From \"More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit,\" published by\n Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their\n permission.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: \"'HELLO!'\"]\n\nPLANTATION STORIES\n\nBY GRACE MACGOWAN COOKE\n\n\nI.--MRS. PRAIRIE-DOG'S BOARDERS\n\nTexas is a near-by land to the dwellers in the Southern States. Many of\nthe poorer white people go there to mend their fortunes; and not a few\nof them come back from its plains, homesick for the mountains, and with\nthese fortunes unmended. Daddy Laban, the half-breed, son of an Indian\nfather and a negro mother, who sometimes visited Broadlands plantation,\nhad been a wanderer; and his travels had carried him as far afield as\nthe plains of southwestern Texas. The Randolph children liked, almost\nbetter than any others, the stories he brought home from these extensive\ntravels.\n\n\"De prairie-dog a mighty cur'ous somebody,\" he began one day, when\nthey asked him for a tale. \"Hit lives in de ground, more samer dan a\nground-hog. But dey ain't come out for wood nor water; an' some folks\nthinks dey goes plumb down to de springs what feeds wells. I has knowed\ndem what say dey go fur enough down to find a place to warm dey\nhands--but dat ain't de tale I'm tellin'.\n\n\"A long time ago, dey was a prairie-dog what was left a widder, an' she\nhad a big fambly to keep up. 'Oh, landy!' she say to dem dat come to\nvisit her in her 'fliction, 'what I gwine do to feed my chillen?'\n\n\"De most o' de varmints tell Miz. Prairie-Dog dat de onliest way for her\nto git along was to keep boarders. 'You got a good home, an' you is a\ngood manager,' dey say; 'you bound to do well wid a boardin'-house.'\n\n\"Well, Miz. Prairie-Dog done sent out de runners to run, de fliers to\nfly, de crawlers to crawl, an' tell each an' every dat she sot up a\nboardin'-house. She say she got room for one crawler and one flier, an'\ndat she could take in a whole passel o' runners.\n\n\"Well, now you knows a flier 's a bird--or hit mought be a bat. Ef\nyou was lookin' for little folks, hit mought be a butterfly. Miz.\nPrairie-Dog ain't find no fliers what wants to live un'neath de ground.\nBut crawlers--bugs an' worms an' sich-like--dey mostly does live\nun'neath de ground, anyhow, an' de fust pusson what come seekin'\nhouse-room with Miz. Prairie-Dog was Brother Rattlesnake.\n\n\"'I dest been flooded out o' my own house,' Mr. Rattlesnake say; 'an' I\nlike to look at your rooms an' see ef dey suits me.'\n\n\"'I show you de rooms,' Miz. Prairie-Dog tell 'im. 'I bound you gwine\nlike 'em. I got room for one crawler, an' you could be him; but--'\n\n\"Miz. Prairie-Dog look at her chillen. She ain't say no more--dest look\nat dem prairie-dog gals an' boys, an' say no more.\n\n\"Mr. Rattlesnake ain't like bein' called a crawler so very well; but he\nlooks at dem rooms, an' 'low he'll take 'em. Miz. Prairie-Dog got\nsomethin' on her mind, an' 'fore de snake git away dat somethin' come\nout. 'I's shore an' certain dat you an' me can git along,' she say,\n'ef--ef--ef you vow an' promish not to bite my chillen. I'll have yo'\nmeals reg'lar, so dat you won't be tempted.'\n\n\"Old Mr. Rattlesnake' powerful high-tempered--yas, law, he sho' a mighty\nquick somebody on de trigger. Zip! he go off, dest like dat--zip!\nBr-r-r! 'Tempted!' he hiss at de prairie-dog woman. He look at dem\nprairie-dog boys an' gals what been makin' mud cakes all mornin' (an'\ndest about as dirty as you-all is after you do de same). 'Tempted,' he\nsay. 'I should hope not.'\n\n\"For, mind you, Brother Rattlesnake is a genterman, an' belongs to de\nquality. He feels hisself a heap too biggity to bite prairie-dogs. So\n_dat_ turned out all right.\n\n\"De next what come to Miz. Prairie-Dog was a flier.\"\n\n\"A bird?\" asked Patricia Randolph.\n\n\"Yes, little mistis,\" returned the old Indian. \"One dese-hyer little,\nround, brown squinch-owls, what allers quakes an' quivers in dey speech\nan' walk. 'I gits so dizzy--izzy--wizzy! up in de top o' de trees,' de\nlittle brown owl say, as she swivel an' shake. 'An' I wanted to git me a\nhome down on de ground, so dat I could be sure, an' double sure, dat I\nwouldn't fall. But dey is dem dat says ef I was down on de ground I\nmight fall down a hole. Dat make me want to live in yo' house. Hit's\ndown in de ground, ain't hit? Ef I git down in yo' house dey hain't no\nplace for me to fall off of, an' fall down to, is dey?' she ax.\n\n [Illustration: \"I WANTED TO GIT ME A HOME DOWN ON DE GROUND, SO DAT I\n COULD BE SURE, AN' DOUBLE SURE, DAT I WOULDN'T FALL,\" SAYS MIZ. BROWN\n OWL]\n\n\"Miz. Prairie-Dog been in de way o' fallin' down-stairs all her life;\ndat de onliest way she ever go inter her house--she fling up her hands\nan' laugh as you pass her by, and she drap back in de hole. But she tell\nde little brown owl dat dey ain't no place you could fall ef you go to\nde bottom eend o' her house. So, what wid a flier an' a crawler, an' de\noldest prairie-dog boy workin' out, she manage to make tongue and buckle\nmeet. I's went by a many a prairie-dog hole an' seen de owl an' de\nrattlesnake what boards wid Miz. Prairie-Dog. Ef you was to go to Texas\nyou'd see de same. But nobody in dat neck o' woods ever knowed how dese\nfolks come to live in one house.\"\n\n\"Who told _you_, Daddy Laban?\" asked Pate Randolph.\n\n\"My Injun gran'mammy,\" returned the old man. \"She told me a many a tale,\nwhen I lived wid my daddy's people on de Cherokee Res'vation. Sometime I\ngwine tell you 'bout de little fawn what her daddy ketched for her when\nshe 's a little gal. But run home now, honey chillens, or yo' mammy done\nthink Daddy Laban stole you an' carried you plumb away.\"\n\n\nII.--SONNY BUNNY RABBIT'S GRANNY\n\nOf all the animal stories which America, the nurse-girl, told to the\nchildren of Broadlands plantation, they liked best those about Sonny\nBunny Rabbit.\n\n\"You listen now, Marse Pate an' Miss Patty an' my baby child, an' I\ngwine tell you de best tale yit, 'bout de rabbit,\" she said, one lazy\nsummer afternoon when they were tired of playing marbles with\nchina-berries.\n\n\"You see, de fox he mighty hongry all de time for rabbit meat; yit, at\nde same time, he 'fraid to buck up 'gainst a old rabbit, an' he always\npesterin' after de young ones.\n\n\"Sonny Bunny Rabbit' granny was sick, an' Sonny Bunny Rabbit' mammy want\nto send her a mess o' sallet. She put it in a poke, an' hang de poke\nround de little rabbit boy's neck.\n\n [Illustration: \"'WHAR YOU PUTTIN' OUT FOR? AN' WHO ALL IS YOU GWINE SEE\n ON T' OTHER SIDE DE HILL?'\" AX MR. FOX]\n\n\"'Now, my son,' she says, 'you tote dis sallet to yo' granny, an' don't\nstop to play wid none o' dey critters in de Big Woods.'\n\n\"'Yassum, mammy,' say Sonny Bunny Rabbit.\n\n\"'Don't you pass de time o' day wid no foxes,' say Mammy Rabbit.\n\n\"'Yassum, mammy,' say Sonny Bunny Rabbit.\n\n\"Dest as he was passin' some thick chinkapin bushes, up hop a big red\nfox an' told him howdy.\n\n\"'Howdy,' say Sonny Bunny Rabbit. He ain't study 'bout what his mammy\ntell him now. He 'bleege to stop an' make a miration at bein' noticed by\nsech a fine pusson as Mr. Fox. 'Hit's a fine day--an' mighty growin'\nweather, Mr. Fox.'\n\n\"'Hit am dat,' say de fox. 'Yaas, suh, hit sho'ly am dat. An' whar you\nputtin' out for, ef I mought ax?' he say, mighty slick an' easy.\n\n\"Now right dar,\" said America, impressively, \"am whar dat little rabbit\nboy fergit his teachin'. He act like he ain't know nothin'--an ain't\nknow dat right good. 'Stead o' sayin', 'I's gwine whar I's gwine--an'\ndat's whar I's gwine,' he answer right back: 'Dest 'cross de hill, suh.\nWon't you walk wid me, suh? Proud to have yo' company, suh.'\n\n [Illustration: \"'COME BACK HYER, YOU RABBIT TRASH, AN' HE'P ME OUT O'\n DIS TROUBLE!'\" HE HOLLER]\n\n\"'An' who-all is you gwine see on t' other side de hill?' ax Mr. Fox.\n\n\"'My granny,' answer Sonny Bunny Rabbit. 'I totin' dis sallet to her.'\n\n\"'Is yo' granny big?' ax de fox. 'Is yo' granny old?' he say. 'Is yo'\ngranny mighty pore? Is yo' granny tough?' An' he ain't been nigh so\nslick an' sof' an' easy any mo' by dis time--he gittin' mighty hongry\nan' greedy.\n\n\"Right den an dere Sonny Bunny Rabbit wake up. Yaas, law! He come to he\nsenses. He know mighty well an' good dat a pusson de size o' Mr. Fox\nain't got no reason to ax ef he granny tough, less'n he want to git he\nteef in her. By dat he recomember what his mammy done told him. He look\nall 'bout. He ain't see no he'p nowhars. Den hit come in Sonny Bunny\nRabbit' mind dat de boys on de farm done sot a trap down by de pastur'\nfence. Ef he kin git Mr. Fox to jump inter dat trap, his life done save.\n\n\"'Oh, my granny mighty big,' he say; 'but dat 's 'ca'se she so fat she\ncain't run. She hain't so mighty old, but she sleep all de time; an' I\nain't know is she tough or not--you dest better come on an' find out,'\nhe holler. Den he start off on er long, keen jump.\n\n\"Sonny Bunny Rabbit run as hard as he could. De fox run after, most\nnippin' his heels. Sonny Bunny Rabbit run by de place whar de fox-trap\ndone sot, an' all kivered wid leaves an' trash, an' dar he le'p high in\nthe air--an' over it. Mr. Fox ain't know dey ary trap in de grass; an',\nblam! he stuck he foot squar' in it!\n\n\"'Oh-ow-ow! Hi-hi-hi! Hi-yi! Yi-yi-yi!' bark de fox. 'Come back hyer,\nyou rabbit trash, an' he'p me out o' dis trouble!' he holler.\n\n\"'Dat ain't no trouble,' say Sonny Bunny Rabbit, jumping high in de\ngrass. 'Dat my granny, what I done told you 'bout. Ain't I say she so\nfat she cain't run? She dest love company so powerful well, dat I 'spect\nshe holdin' on to you to hear you talk.'\n\n\"An' de fox talk,\" America giggled, as she looked about on her small\naudience.\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: MR. SNOWBIRD SPENDS CHRISTMAS DAY WITH BR'ER RABBIT]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration: AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES]\n\n\n\n\nROBIN REDBREAST\n\n\nThere was once a hunter who had only one son, and when his son grew up\nhe said to him: \"My son, I am growing old, and you must hunt for me.\"\n\n\"Very well, father,\" said his son, and he took his father's bow and\narrows and went out into the woods. But he was a dreamy boy, and forgot\nwhat he had come for, and spent the morning wondering at the beautiful\nflowers, and trees, and mosses, and hills, and valleys that he saw. When\nhe saw a bird on a tree, he forgot that he had come to shoot it, and lay\nlistening to its song; and when he saw a deer come down to drink at the\nstream he put down his bow and arrows and began to talk to the deer in\nthe deer's own language. At last he saw that the sun was setting. Then\nhe looked round for his bow and arrows, and they were gone!\n\nWhen he got home to the wigwam, his father met him at the door and said:\n\"My son, you have had a long day's hunting. Have you killed so much that\nyou had to leave it in the woods? Let us go and fetch it together.\"\n\nThe young man looked very much ashamed of himself, and said: \"Father, I\nforgot all about the hunting. The woods, and the sky, and the flowers,\nand the birds, and the beasts were so interesting that I forgot all\nabout what you had sent me to do.\"\n\nHis father was in a terrible rage with him, and in the morning he sent\nhim out again, with new bow and arrows, saying: \"Take care that you\ndon't forget this time.\"\n\nThe son went along saying to himself: \"I mustn't forget, I mustn't\nforget, I mustn't forget.\" But as soon as a bird flew across the path he\nforgot all about what his father had said, and called to the bird in the\nbird's own language, and the bird came and sat on the tree above him,\nand sang to him so beautifully all day that the young man sat as if he\nwas dreaming till sunset.\n\n\"Oh dear!\" said the young man, \"what shall I do? My father will kill me\nif I go back without anything to eat.\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" said the bird; \"if he kills you, we shall give you\nfeathers and paint, and you can fly away and be a bird like ourselves.\"\n\nWhen the young man reached the village he scarcely dared to go near his\nfather's wigwam; but his father saw him coming, and ran to meet him,\ncalling out in a hurry; \"What have you brought? What have you brought?\"\n\n\"I have brought nothing, father; nothing at all,\" said the boy.\n\nHis father was angrier than ever, and in the morning he said: \"Come with\nme. No more bow and arrows for you, and not a bite to eat, till I have\ntaught you to be a hunter like any other good Indian.\" So he took his\nson into the middle of the forest, and there built for him a little\nwigwam, with no door, only a little hole in the side.\n\n\"There!\" said his father, when the young man was inside, and the wigwam\nwas laced up tight. \"When you have lived and fasted in this wigwam for\ntwelve days, the spirit of a hunter will come into you.\"\n\nEvery day the young man's father came to see him, and every day the\nyoung man begged for food, till at last, on the tenth day, he could only\nbeg in a whisper.\n\n\"No!\" said his father. \"In two days more you can both hunt and eat.\"\n\nOn the eleventh day, when the father came and spoke to his son, he got\nno answer. Looking through the hole, he saw the lad lying as if he was\ndead on the ground; but when he called out aloud his son awoke, and\nwhispered: \"Father, bring me food! Give me some food!\"\n\n\"No,\" said his father. \"You have only one day more to wait. To-morrow\nyou will hunt and eat.\" And he went away home to the village.\n\nOn the twelfth day the father came loaded with meal and meat. As he\ncame near to the wigwam he heard a curious chirping sound, and when he\nlooked through the hole in the wigwam he saw his son standing up inside,\nand painting his breast with bright red paint.\n\n\"What are you doing, my son? Come and eat! Here is meal and meat for\nyou. Come and eat and hunt like a good Indian.\"\n\nBut the son could only reply in a chirping little voice: \"It is too\nlate, father. You have killed me at last, and now I am becoming a bird.\"\nAnd as he spoke he turned into the o-pe-che--the robin redbreast--and\nflew out of the hole and away to join the other birds; but he never flew\nvery far from where men live.\n\nThe cruel father set out to go back to his wigwam; but he could never\nfind the village again, and after he had wandered about a long time he\nlay down in the forest and died; and soon afterward the redbreast found\nhim, and buried him under a heap of dry leaves. Every year after that,\nwhen the time of the hunter's fast came round, the redbreast perched on\nhis father's empty wigwam and sang the song of the dead.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THREE WISHES\n\n\nOnce upon a time there were three brothers who set out on a visit to\nGoose-cap, the wise one, who said that any one might come and see him,\nand get a wish--just one wish, no more. The three brothers were seven\nyears on the journey, climbing mountains that seemed to have no top, and\nscrambling through forests full of thorn-bushes, and wading through\nswamps where the mosquitoes tried to eat them up, and sailing down\nrivers where the rapids broke up their rafts and nearly drowned them.\n\nAt the end of seven years they heard Goose-cap's dogs barking, so then\nthey knew they were on the right road; and they went on for three months\nmore, and the barking got a little louder every day, till at last they\ncame to the edge of the great lake. Then Goose-cap saw them, and sailed\nover in his big stone canoe and took them to his island.\n\nYou never saw such a beautiful island as that was, it was so green and\nwarm and bright; and Goose-cap feasted his visitors for three days and\nnights, with meats and fruits that they had never tasted before. Then he\nsaid: \"Tell me what you want, and why you have taken so much trouble to\nfind me.\"\n\nThe youngest brother said: \"I want to be always amusing, so that no one\ncan listen to me without laughing.\"\n\nThen the great wise one stuck his finger in the ground, and pulled up a\nroot of the laughing-plant and said: \"When you have eaten this you will\nbe the funniest man in the tribe, and people will laugh as soon as you\nopen your lips. But see that you don't eat it till you get home.\"\n\nThe youngest brother thanked him, and hurried away; and going home was\nso easy that it only took seven days instead of seven years. Yet the\nyoung man was so impatient to try his wish that on the sixth morning he\nate the root. All of a sudden he felt so light-headed that he began to\ndance and shout with fun: and the ducks that he was going to shoot for\nbreakfast flew away laughing into the reeds over the river, and the deer\nran away laughing into the woods, and he got nothing to eat all day.\n\nNext morning he came to the village where he lived, and he wanted to\ntell his friends how hungry he was; but at the first word he spoke they\nall burst out laughing, and as he went on they laughed louder and\nlouder--it seemed so funny, though they couldn't hear a word he said,\nthey made so much noise themselves. Then they got to laughing so hard\nthat they rolled over and over on the ground, and squeezed their sides,\nand cried with laughing, till they had to run away into their houses and\nshut their doors, or they would have been killed with laughing. He\ncalled to them to come out and give him something to eat, but as soon as\nthey heard him they began to laugh again; and at last they shouted that\nif he didn't go away they would kill him. So he went away into the woods\nand lived by himself; and whenever he wanted to hunt he had to tie a\nstrap over his mouth, or the mock-bird would hear him and begin to\nlaugh, and all the other birds and beasts would hear the mock-bird and\nlaugh and run away.\n\nThe second brother said to Goose-cap; \"I want to be the greatest of\nhunters without the trouble of hunting. Why should I go after the\nanimals if I could make them come to me?\"\n\nGoose-cap knew why; still, he gave the man a little flute, saying: \"Be\nsure you don't use it till after you have got home.\"\n\nThen the hunter set off; but on the sixth day he was getting so near\nhome that he said to himself: \"I'm sure Goose-cap couldn't hear me now\nif I blew the flute _very_ gently, just to try it.\" So he pulled out\nthe flute and breathed into it as gently as ever he could--but as soon\nas his lips touched it the flute whistled so long and loud that all the\nbeasts in the country heard it and came rushing from north and south and\neast and west to see what the matter was. The deer got there first, and\nwhen they saw it was a man with bow and arrows they tried to run away\nagain; but they couldn't, for the bears were close behind, all round,\nand pushed and pushed till the deer were all jammed up together and the\nman was squeezed to death in the middle of them.\n\nThe eldest brother, when the other two had set off for home, said to\nGoose-cap: \"Give me great wisdom, so that I can marry the Mohawk chief's\ndaughter without killing her father or getting killed myself.\" You see,\nthe eldest brother was an Algonquin, and the Mohawks always hated the\nAlgonquins.\n\nGoose-cap stooped down on the shore and picked up a hard clam-shell; and\nhe ground it and ground it, all that day and all the next night, till he\nhad made a beautiful wampum bead of it. \"Hang this round your neck by a\nthread of flax,\" he said, \"and go and do whatever the chief asks you.\"\n\nThe eldest brother thanked him, and left the beautiful island, and\ntraveled seven days and seven nights till he came to the Mohawk town. He\nwent straight to the chief's house, and said to him, \"I want to marry\nyour daughter.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the chief, \"you can marry my daughter if you bring me\nthe head of the great dragon that lives in the pit outside the gate.\"\n\nThe eldest brother promised he would, and went out and cut down a tree\nand laid it across the mouth of the pit. Then he danced round the pit,\nand sang as he danced a beautiful Algonquin song, something like this:\n\"Come and eat me, dragon, for I am fat and my flesh is sweet and there\nis plenty of marrow in my bones.\" The dragon was asleep, but the song\ngave him beautiful dreams, and he uncoiled himself and smacked his lips\nand stretched his head up into the air and laid his neck on the log.\nThen the eldest brother cut off the head; snick-snack, and carried it to\nthe chief.\n\n\"That's right,\" said the chief; but he was angry in his heart, and next\nmorning, when he should have given away his daughter, he said to the\nAlgonquin: \"I will let you marry her if I see that you can dive as well\nas the wild duck in the lake.\"\n\nWhen they got to the lake the wild duck dived and stayed under water for\nthree minutes, but then it had to come up to breathe. Then the eldest\nbrother dived, and turned into a frog, and stayed under water so long\nthat they were sure he was drowned; but just as they were going home,\nsinging for joy to be rid of him, he came running after them, and said:\n\"Now I have had my bath and we can go and get married.\"\n\n\"Wait till the evening,\" said the chief, \"and then you can get married.\"\n\nWhen the evening came, the Northern Lights were dancing and leaping in\nthe sky, and the chief said: \"The Northern Lights would be angry if you\ngot married without running them a race. Run your best and win, and\nthere will be no more delay.\"\n\nThe Northern Lights darted away at once to the west, and the eldest\nbrother ran after them; and the chief said to his daughter: \"They will\nlead him right down to the other side of the world, and he will be an\nold man before he can get back, so he won't trouble us any more.\" But\njust as the chief finished speaking, here came the Algonquin running up\nfrom the east. He had turned himself into lightning and gone right round\nthe world; and the night was nearly gone before the Northern Lights came\nup after him, panting and sputtering.\n\n\"Yes, my son,\" said the chief; \"you have won the race; so now we can go\non with the wedding. The place where we have our weddings is down by the\nriver at the bottom of the valley, and we will go there on our\ntoboggans.\"\n\nNow the hillside was rough with rocks and trees, and the river flowed\nbetween steep precipices, so nobody could toboggan down there without\nbeing broken to pieces. But the eldest brother said he was ready, and\nasked the chief to come on the same toboggan.\n\n\"No,\" said the chief, \"but as soon as you have started I will.\"\n\nThen the Algonquin gave his toboggan a push, and jumped on, and didn't\neven take the trouble to sit down. The chief waited to see him dashed to\npieces; but the toboggan skimmed down the mountain side without touching\na rock or a tree, and flew across the ravine at the bottom, and up the\nhillside opposite; and the Algonquin was standing straight up the whole\ntime. When he got to the top of the mountain opposite he turned his\ntoboggan round and coasted back as he had come. And when the chief saw\nhim coming near and standing up on his toboggan, he lost his temper and\nlet fly an arrow straight at the young man's heart; but the arrow stuck\nin Goose-cap's bead, and the Algonquin left it sticking there and took\nno notice. Only when he got to the top he said to the chief, \"Now it's\nyour turn,\" and put him on the toboggan and sent him spinning down into\nthe valley. And whether the chief ever came up again we don't know; but\nat any rate his daughter married the Algonquin without any more fuss,\nand went home with him.\n\n\n\n\nTHE JOKER\n\n\nThis story is about Lox. He called himself the joker, and he was very\nproud of his jokes; but nobody else could see anything in them to laugh\nat.\n\nOne day he came to a wigwam where two old Indians were taking a nap\nbeside the fire. He picked out a burning stick, held it against their\nbare feet, and then ran out and hid behind the tent. The old men sprang\nup, and one of them shouted to the other:\n\n\"How dare you burn my feet?\"\n\n\"How dare _you_ burn _my_ feet?\" roared the other, and sprang at his\nthroat.\n\nWhen he heard them fighting Lox laughed out loud, and the old men ran\nout to catch the man who had tricked them. When they got round the tent\nthey found nothing but a dead coon. They took off its skin, and put its\nbody into the pot of soup that was boiling for dinner. As soon as they\nhad sat down, out jumped Lox, kicking over the pot and putting out the\nfire with the soup. He jumped right into the coon's skin and scurried\naway into the wood.\n\nIn the middle of the forest Lox came upon a camp where a party of women\nwere sitting round a fire making pouches.\n\n\"Dear me,\" said Lox, looking very kind. (He had put on his own skin by\nthis time.) \"That's very slow work! Now, when I want to make a pouch I\ndo it in two minutes, without sewing a stitch.\"\n\n\"I should like to see you do it!\" said one of the women.\n\n\"Very well,\" said he. So he took a piece of skin, and a needle and\ntwine, and a handful of beads, and stuffed them in among the burning\nsticks. In two minutes he stooped down again and pulled a handsome pouch\nout of the fire.\n\n\"Wonderful!\" said the women; and they all stuffed their pieces of\nbuckskin and handfuls of beads into the fire.\n\n\"Be sure you pull the bags out in two minutes,\" said Lox. \"I will go and\nhunt for some more buckskin.\"\n\nIn two minutes the women raked out the fire, and found nothing but\nscraps of scorched leather and half-melted glass. Then they were very\nangry, and ran after the joker; but he had turned himself into a coon\nagain and hidden in a hollow tree. When they had all gone back to their\nruined work he came down and went on his mischievous way.\n\nWhen he came out of the wood he saw a village by the side of a river.\nOutside one of the wigwams a woman was nursing a baby, and scolding it\nbecause it cried.\n\n\"What a lot of trouble children are,\" said Lox. \"What a pity that people\ndon't make men of them at once, instead of letting them take years to\ngrow up.\"\n\nThe woman stared. \"How can a baby be turned into a man?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, it's easy enough,\" said he. So she lent him her baby, and he took\nit down to the river and held it under the water for a few minutes,\nsaying magical words all the time; and then a full-grown Indian jumped\nout of the water, with a feather head-dress, and beaded blankets, and a\nbow and quiver slung over his back.\n\n\"Wonderful! Wonderful!\" said his mother, and she hurried back to the\nvillage to tell her friends the secret. The last thing Lox saw as he\nhurried away into the wood was a score of mothers drowning their\nchildren.\n\nOn the path in front of him Lox spied a couple of maidens, and they were\ntrying to reach the fruit that grew on a wild plum-tree. The joker\nstepped on one side and broke a twig off another plum-tree and stuck it\nin his hair. The twig sprouted fast, and grew into a little plum-tree\nwith big plums hanging from its twigs. He went along the path, picking\nand eating the plums as he walked, till he came up with the girls.\n\n\"Wonderful!\" said they. \"Do you think we could get plums like that?\"\n\n\"Easily,\" said he and he broke off two little twigs. \"Stick these in\nyour hair, and you will have head-dresses like mine.\"\n\nAs soon as the twigs were stuck in their hair the little plum-trees\nbegan to grow, and the maidens danced with joy, and picked the juicy\nplums and ate them. But the trees went on growing, and the roots twisted\nin among the maidens' hair and clutched their heads like iron fingers.\nThe girls sat down, for they couldn't carry all that weight standing.\nAnd still the trees grew, till the girls lay down on the ground and\nscreamed for some one to come and rescue them. Presently their father\ncame along, and he pulled his axe out of his belt and chopped off the\ntrees, and tugged at the roots till they came off--but all the maidens'\nhair came off too. By this time Lox took care to be scampering away\nthrough the wood in the shape of a coon.\n\nWhen he came near the next village Lox put on a terrified face and began\nto run; and he rushed into the middle of the village, shouting: \"The\nplague is coming! The plague is coming!\"\n\nAll the people flocked out of their wigwams, crying: \"Where is it coming\nfrom? Which way shall we fly?\"\n\n\"Stay where you are and make your minds easy,\" said Lox. \"I have a charm\nthat will keep off all the plagues under the sun. As soon as I have\nspoken the words, every man must kiss the girl nearest him.\" Then he\nstretched up his hands toward the sun and said some gibberish; and when\nhe stopped and let his arms fall, each man made a rush and kissed the\ngirl who happened to be nearest.\n\nBut there were not quite as many girls as there were men, and one old\nbachelor was so slow and clumsy that every girl had been kissed before\nhe could catch one.\n\n\"Never mind,\" said Lox cheerfully. \"You go to the next village and try\nagain.\"\n\nSo the old bachelor set out, plod, plod, plodding through the woods. But\nLox turned himself into a coon again, and scampered from tree to tree,\nand got first to the village. When he told the people the plague was\ncoming, and they asked how they could avoid it, he said: \"When I have\nspoken my charm, all the girls must set upon any stranger that comes to\nthe village, and beat him.\" Then he flung his arms up and began talking\nhis gibberish. Presently the old bachelor came up, hot and panting, and\nstood close to the handsomest girl he could see, all ready to kiss her\nas soon as the charm ended. But as soon as Lox finished, the maidens all\nset upon the stranger, and beat him till he ran away into the woods.\n\nThen the people made a great feast for Lox; and when he had eaten his\nfill of deer-meat and honey, he marched off to play his tricks somewhere\nelse. He had not gone very far when he came to the Kulloo's nest. Now\nthe Kulloo was the biggest of the birds, and when he spread his wings\nhe made night come at noonday; and he built his nest of the biggest\npine-trees he could find, instead of straws. The Kulloo was away, but\nhis wife was at home trying to hatch her eggs. Lox was not hungry; but\nhe turned himself into a serpent, and crept into the nest and under Mrs.\nKulloo's wing, and bit a hole in every egg and ate up the little\nKulloos. When he had done this, he was so heavy and stupid that he\ncouldn't walk very far before he had to lie down and go to sleep.\n\nPresently the Kulloo came home.\n\n\"How are you getting on, my dear?\" he said.\n\n\"Not very well, I'm afraid,\" she said. \"The eggs seem to get cold, no\nmatter how close I sit.\"\n\n\"Let me take a turn while you go and stretch your wings,\" said the\nKulloo. But when he sat down on the empty eggs they all broke with a\ngreat crash.\n\nThe Kulloo flew off in a terrible rage to find the wretch who had eaten\nup the eggs, and very soon he spied Lox snoring on the grass.\n\n\"Now I've caught him,\" said the Kulloo; \"it's Lox, the mischief-maker.\"\n\nHe pounced down, and caught hold of Lox by the hair and carried him a\nmile up into the sky, and then let go. Of course, Lox was broken into\npieces when he struck the earth, but he just had time as he fell to say\nhis strongest magic:\n\n \"Backbone! Backbone!\n Save my backbone!\"\n\nSo as soon as the Kulloo was out of sight the arms and legs and head\nbegan to wriggle together round the backbone, and then in a twinkling\nLox was whole again.\n\n\"I shouldn't like that to happen very often,\" he said, looking himself\nover to see if every piece had joined in the right place. \"I think I'll\ngo home and take a rest.\"\n\nBut he had traveled so far that he was six months' journey from his\nhome; and he had made so many enemies, and done so much mischief, that\nwhenever he came into a village and asked food and shelter the people\nhooted and pelted him out again. The birds and the beasts got to know\nwhen he was coming, and kept so far out of his way that he couldn't get\nenough to eat, not even by his magic. Besides, he had wasted his magic\nso much that scarcely any was left. The winter came on, and he was cold\nas well as hungry, when at last he reached a solitary wigwam by a frozen\nriver. The master of the wigwam didn't know him, so he treated him\nkindly, and said, when they parted next morning:\n\n\"You have only three days more to go; but the frost-wind is blowing\ncolder and colder, and if you don't do as I say you will never get home.\nWhen night comes, break seven twigs from a maple-tree and stand them up\nagainst each other, like the poles of a wigwam, and jump over them. Do\nthe same the next night, and the night after that if you are not quite\nhome; but you can only do it thrice.\"\n\nAway went the joker, swaggering through the woods as if nothing had\nhappened to him, for now he was warm and full. But soon the wind began\nto rise, and it blew sharper and sharper, and bit his face, and pricked\nin through his blanket.\n\n\"I'm not going to be cold while I know how to be warm,\" said he; and he\nbuilt a little wigwam of sticks, and jumped over it. The sticks blazed\nup, and went on burning furiously for an hour. Then they died out\nsuddenly. Lox groaned and went on his way. In the afternoon he stopped\nagain, and lit another fire to warm himself by; but again the fire went\nout. When night came on he made his third fire wigwam; and that one\nburned all night long, and only went out when it was time for him to\nbegin the day's march.\n\nAll day he tramped over the snow, never daring to stop for more than a\nfew minutes at a time for fear of being frozen to death. At night he\nbuilt another little wigwam; but the twigs wouldn't light, however often\nhe jumped over them. On he tramped, getting more and more tired and\ndrowsy, till at last he fell in his tracks and froze. And that was the\nend of Lox and his jokes.\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE MOCCASIN'S RIDE ON THE THUNDER-HORSE\n\nBY COLONEL GUIDO ILGES\n\n\n\"Little Moccasin\" was, at the time we speak of, fourteen years old, and\nabout as mischievous a boy as could be found anywhere in the Big Horn\nmountains. Unlike his comrades of the same age, who had already killed\nbuffaloes and stolen horses from the white men and the Crow Indians,\nwith whom Moccasin's tribe, the Uncapapas, were at war, he preferred to\nlie under a shady tree in the summer, or around the camp-fire in winter,\nlistening to the conversation of the old men and women, instead of going\nupon expeditions with the warriors and the hunters.\n\nThe Uncapapas were a very powerful and numerous tribe of the great Sioux\nNation, and before Uncle Sam's soldiers captured and removed them, and\nbefore the Northern Pacific Railroad entered the territory of Montana,\nthey occupied the beautiful valleys of the Rosebud, Big and Little\nHorn, Powder and Redstone rivers, all of which empty into the grand\nYellowstone Valley. In those days, before the white man had set foot\nupon these grounds, there was plenty of game, such as buffalo, elk,\nantelope, deer, and bear; and, as the Uncapapas were great hunters and\ngood shots, the camp of Indians to which Little Moccasin belonged always\nhad plenty of meat to eat and plenty of robes and hides to sell and\ntrade for horses and guns, for powder and ball, for sugar and coffee,\nand for paint and flour. Little Moccasin showed more appetite than any\nother Indian in camp. In fact, he was always hungry, and used to eat at\nall hours, day and night. Buffalo meat he liked the best, particularly\nthe part taken from the hump, which is so tender that it almost melts in\nthe mouth.\n\nWhen Indian boys have had a hearty dinner of good meat, they generally\nfeel very happy and very lively. When hungry, they are sad and dull.\n\nThis was probably the reason why Little Moccasin was always so full of\nmischief, and always inventing tricks to play upon the other boys. He\nwas a precocious and observing youngster, full of quaint and original\nideas--never at a loss for expedients.\n\nBut he was once made to feel very sorry for having played a trick, and I\nmust tell my young readers how it happened.\n\n\"Running Antelope,\" one of the great warriors and the most noted orator\nof the tribe, had returned from a hunt, and Mrs. Antelope was frying for\nhim a nice buffalo steak--about as large as two big fists--over the\ncoals. Little Moccasin, who lived in the next street of tents, smelled\nthe feast, and concluded that he would have some of it. In the darkness\nof the night he slowly and carefully crawled toward the spot, where\nMistress Antelope sat holding in one hand a long stick, at the end of\nwhich the steak was frying. Little Moccasin watched her closely, and\nseeing that she frequently placed her other hand upon the ground beside\nher and leaned upon it for support, he soon formed a plan for making her\ndrop the steak.\n\nHe had once or twice in his life seen a pin, but he had never owned one,\nand he could not have known what use is sometimes made of them by bad\nwhite boys. He had noticed, however, that some of the leaves of the\nlarger varieties of the prickly-pear cactus-plant are covered with many\nthorns, as long and as sharp as an ordinary pin.\n\nSo when Mrs. Antelope again sat down and looked at the meat to see if it\nwas done, he slyly placed half-a-dozen of the cactus leaves upon the\nvery spot of ground upon which Mrs. Antelope had before rested her left\nhand.\n\nThen the young mischief crawled noiselessly into the shade and waited\nfor his opportunity, which came immediately.\n\nWhen the unsuspecting Mrs. Antelope again leaned upon the ground, and\nfelt the sharp points of the cactus leaves, she uttered a scream, and\ndropped from her other hand the stick and the steak, thinking only of\nrelief from the sharp pain.\n\nThen, on the instant, the young rascal seized the stick and tried to run\naway with it. But Running Antelope caught him by his long hair, and gave\nhim a severe whipping, declaring that he was a good-for-nothing boy, and\ncalling him a \"coffee-cooler\" and a \"squaw.\"\n\nThe other boys, hearing the rumpus, came running up to see the fun, and\nthey laughed and danced over poor Little Moccasin's distress. Often\nafterward they called him \"coffee-cooler\"; which meant that he was\ncowardly and faint-hearted, and that he preferred staying in camp around\nthe fire, drinking coffee, to taking part in the manly sports of hunting\nand stealing expeditions.\n\nThe night after the whipping, Little Moccasin could not sleep. The\ndisgrace of the whipping and the name applied to him were too much for\nhis vanity. He even lost his appetite, and refused some very nice\nprairie-dog stew which his mother offered him.\n\nHe was thinking of something else. He must do something brave--perform\nsome great deed which no other Indian had ever performed--in order to\nremove this stain upon his character.\n\nBut what should it be? Should he go out alone and kill a bear? He had\nnever fired a gun, and was afraid that the bear might eat him. Should he\nattack the Crow camp single-handed? No, no--not he; they would catch him\nand scalp him alive.\n\nAll night long he was thinking and planning; but when daylight came, he\nhad reached no conclusion. He must wait for the Great Spirit to give him\nsome ideas.\n\nDuring the following day he refused all food and kept drawing his belt\ntighter and tighter around his waist every hour, till, by evening, he\nhad reached the last notch. This method of appeasing the pangs of\nhunger, adopted by the Indians when they have nothing to eat, is said to\nbe very effective.\n\nIn a week's time Little Moccasin had grown almost as thin as a\nbean-pole, but no inspiration had yet revealed what he could do to\nredeem himself.\n\nAbout this time a roving band of Cheyennes, who had been down to the\nmouth of the Little Missouri, and beyond, entered the camp upon a\nfriendly visit. Feasting and dancing were kept up day and night, in\nhonor of the guests; but Little Moccasin lay hidden in the woods nearly\nall the time.\n\nDuring the night of the second day of their stay, he quietly stole to\nthe rear of the great council-tepee, to listen to the pow-wow then going\non. Perhaps he would there learn some words of wisdom which would give\nhim an idea how to carry out his great undertaking.\n\nAfter \"Black Catfish,\" the great Cheyenne warrior, had related in the\nflowery language of his tribe some reminiscences of his many fights and\nbrave deeds, \"Strong Heart\" spoke. Then there was silence for many\nminutes, during which the pipe of peace made the rounds, each warrior\ntaking two or three puffs, blowing the smoke through the nose, pointing\ntoward heaven and then handing the pipe to his left-hand neighbor.\n\n\"Strong Heart,\" \"Crazy Dog,\" \"Bow-String,\" \"Dog-Fox,\" and \"Smooth\nElkhorn\" spoke of the country they had just passed through.\n\nThen again the pipe of peace was handed round, amid profound silence.\n\n\"Black Pipe,\" who was bent and withered with the wear and exposure of\nseventy-nine winters, and who trembled like some leafless tree shaken by\nthe wind, but who was sound in mind and memory, then told the Uncapapas,\nfor the first time, of the approach of a great number of white men, who\nwere measuring the ground with long chains, and who were being followed\nby \"Thundering Horses,\" and \"Houses on Wheels.\" (He was referring to the\nsurveying parties of the Northern Pacific Railway Company, who were just\nthen at work on the crossing of the Little Missouri.)\n\nWith heart beating wildly, Little Moccasin listened to this strange\nstory and then retired to his own blankets in his father's tepee.\n\nNow he had found the opportunity he so long had sought! He would go\nacross the mountains, all by himself, look at the thundering horses and\nthe houses on wheels. He then would know more than any one in the tribe,\nand return to the camp,--a hero!\n\nAt early morn, having provided himself with a bow and a quiver full of\narrows, without informing any one of his plan he stole out of camp,\nand, running at full speed, crossed the nearest mountain to the East.\n\nAllowing himself little time for rest, pushing forward by day and night,\nand after fording many of the smaller mountain-streams, on the evening\nof the third day of his travel he came upon what he believed to be a\nwell-traveled road. But--how strange!--there were two endless iron rails\nlying side by side upon the ground. Such a curious sight he had never\nbeheld. There were also large poles, with glass caps, and connected by\nwire, standing along the roadside. What could all this mean?\n\nPoor Little Moccasin's brain became so bewildered that he hardly noticed\nthe approach of a freight-train drawn by the \"Thundering Horse.\"\n\nThere was a shrill, long-drawn whistle, and immense clouds of black\nsmoke; and the Thundering Horse was sniffing and snorting at a great\nrate, emitting from its nostrils large streams of steaming vapor.\nBesides all this, the earth, in the neighborhood of where Little\nMoccasin stood, shook and trembled as if in great fear; and to him the\nterrible noises the horse made were perfectly appalling.\n\nGradually the snorts, and the puffing, and the terrible noise lessened,\nuntil, all at once, they entirely ceased. The train had come to a\nstand-still at a watering tank, where the Thundering Horse was given its\ndrink.\n\nThe rear car, or \"House on Wheels,\" as old Black Pipe had called it,\nstood in close proximity to Little Moccasin,--who, in his bewilderment\nand fright at the sight of these strange moving houses, had been unable\nto move a step.\n\nBut as no harm had come to him from the terrible monster, Moccasin's\nheart, which had sunk down to the region of his toes, began to rise\nagain; and the curiosity inherent in every Indian boy mastered fear.\n\nHe moved up, and down, and around the great House on Wheels; then he\ntouched it in many places, first with the tip-end of one finger, and\nfinally with both hands. If he could only detach a small piece from the\nhouse to take back to camp with him as a trophy and as a proof of his\ndaring achievement! But it was too solid, and all made of heavy wood and\niron.\n\nAt the rear end of the train there was a ladder, which the now brave\nLittle Moccasin ascended with the quickness of a squirrel to see what\nthere was on top.\n\nIt was gradually growing dark, and suddenly he saw (as he really\nbelieved) the full moon approaching him. He did not know that it was the\nheadlight of a locomotive coming from the opposite direction.\n\nAbsorbed in this new and glorious sight, he did not notice the starting\nof his own car, until it was too late, for, while the car moved, he\ndared not let go his hold upon the brake-wheel.\n\nThere he was, being carried with lightning speed into a far-off, unknown\ncountry, over bridges, by the sides of deep ravines, and along the\nslopes of steep mountains.\n\nBut the Thundering Horse never tired nor grew thirsty again during the\nentire night.\n\nAt last, soon after the break of day, there came the same shrill whistle\nwhich had frightened him so much on the previous day; and, soon after,\nthe train stopped at Miles City.\n\nBut, unfortunately for our little hero, there were a great many white\npeople in sight; and he was compelled to lie flat upon the roof of his\ncar, in order to escape notice. He had heard so much of the cruelty of\nthe white men that he dared not trust himself among them.\n\nSoon they started again, and Little Moccasin was compelled to proceed on\nhis involuntary journey, which took him away from home and into unknown\ndangers.\n\nAt noon, the cars stopped on the open prairie to let Thundering Horse\ndrink again. Quickly, and without being detected by any of the trainmen,\nhe dropped to the ground from his high and perilous position. Then the\ntrain left him--all alone in an unknown country.\n\nAlone? Not exactly; for, within a few minutes, half-a-dozen Crow\nIndians, mounted on swift ponies, are by his side, and are lashing him\nwith whips and lassoes.\n\nHe has fallen into the hands of the deadliest enemies of his tribe, and\nhas been recognized by the cut of his hair and the shape of his\nmoccasins.\n\nWhen they tired of their sport in beating poor Little Moccasin so\ncruelly, they dismounted and tied his hands behind his back.\n\nThen they sat down upon the ground to have a smoke and to deliberate\nabout the treatment of the captive.\n\nDuring the very severe whipping, and while they were tying his hands,\nthough it gave him great pain, Little Moccasin never uttered a groan.\nIndian-like, he had made up his mind to \"die game,\" and not to give his\nenemies the satisfaction of gloating over his sufferings. This, as will\nbe seen, saved his life.\n\nThe leader of the Crows, \"Iron Bull,\" was in favor of burning the hated\nUncapapa at a stake, then and there; but \"Spotted Eagle,\" \"Blind Owl,\"\nand \"Hungry Wolf\" called attention to the youth and bravery of the\ncaptive, who had endured the lashing without any sign of fear. Then the\ntwo other Crows took the same view. This decided poor Moccasin's fate;\nand he understood it all, although he did not speak the Crow language,\nfor he was a great sign-talker, and had watched them very closely during\ntheir council.\n\n [Illustration: \"WHEN THEY HAD GONE ABOUT FIVE MILES FROM CAMP, THEY\n CAME UPON A PRETTY LITTLE MOUSE-COLORED PONY\"]\n\nBlind Owl, who seemed the most kind-hearted of the party, lifted the boy\nupon his pony, Blind Owl himself getting up in front, and they rode at\nfull speed westward to their large encampment, where they arrived after\nsunset.\n\nLittle Moccasin was then relieved of his bonds, which had benumbed his\nhands during the long ride, and a large dish of boiled meat was given to\nhim. This, in his famished condition, he relished very much. An old\nsquaw, one of the wives of Blind Owl, and a Sioux captive, took pity on\nhim, and gave him a warm place with plenty of blankets in her own tepee,\nwhere he enjoyed a good rest.\n\nDuring his stay with the Crows, Little Moccasin was made to do the work\nwhich usually falls to the lot of the squaws; and which was imposed upon\nhim as a punishment upon a brave enemy, designed to break his proud\nspirit. He was treated as a slave, made to haul wood and draw water, do\nthe cooking, and clean game. Many of the Crow boys wanted to kill him,\nbut his foster-mother, \"Old Looking-Glass,\" protected him; and, besides,\nthey feared that the soldiers of Fort Custer might hear of it, if he was\nkilled, and punish them.\n\nMany weeks thus passed, and the poor little captive grew more despondent\nand weaker in body every day. Often his foster-mother would talk to him\nin his own language, and tell him to be of good cheer; but he was\nterribly homesick and longed to get back to the mountains on the\nRosebud, to tell the story of his daring and become the hero which he\nhad started out to be.\n\nOne night, after everybody had gone to sleep in camp, and the fires had\ngone out, Old Looking-Glass, who had seemed to be soundly sleeping,\napproached his bed and gently touched his face. Looking up, he saw that\nshe held a forefinger pressed against her lips, intimating that he must\nkeep silence, and that she was beckoning him to go outside.\n\nThere she soon joined him; then, putting her arm around his neck, she\nhastened out of the camp and across the nearest hills.\n\nWhen they had gone about five miles away from camp, they came upon a\npretty little mouse-colored pony, which Old Looking-Glass had hidden\nthere for Little Moccasin on the previous day.\n\nShe made him mount the pony, which she called \"Blue Wing,\" and bade him\nfly toward the rising sun, where he would find white people who would\nprotect and take care of him.\n\nOld Looking-Glass then kissed Little Moccasin upon both cheeks and the\nforehead, while the tears ran down her wrinkled face; she also folded\nher hands upon her breast and looking up to the heavens, said a prayer,\nin which she asked the Great Spirit to protect and save the poor boy in\nhis flight.\n\nAfter she had whispered some indistinct words into the ear of Blue Wing\n(who seemed to understand her, for he nodded his head approvingly), she\nbade Little Moccasin be off, and advised him not to rest this side of\nthe white man's settlement, as the Crows would soon discover his\nabsence, and would follow him on their fleetest ponies.\n\n\"But Blue Wing will save you! He can outrun them all!\"\n\nThese were her parting words, as he galloped away.\n\nIn a short time the sun rose over the nearest hill, and Little Moccasin\nthen knew that he was going in the right direction. He felt very happy\nto be free again, although sorry to leave behind his kind-hearted\nfoster-mother, Looking-Glass. He made up his mind that after a few\nyears, when he had grown big and become a warrior, he would go and\ncapture her from the hated Crows and take her to his own tepee.\n\nHe was so happy in this thought that he had not noticed how swiftly time\npassed, and that already the sun stood over his head; neither had he\nurged Blue Wing to run his swiftest; but that good little animal kept up\na steady dog-trot, without, as yet, showing the least sign of being\ntired.\n\nBut what was the sudden noise which was heard behind him? Quickly he\nturned his head, and, to his horror, he beheld about fifty mounted Crows\ncoming toward him at a run, and swinging in their hands guns, pistols,\nclubs, and knives!\n\nHis old enemy, Iron Bull, was in advance, and under his right arm he\ncarried a long lance, with which he intended to spear Little Moccasin,\nas a cruel boy spears a bug with a pin.\n\nMoccasin's heart stood still for a moment with fear; he knew that this\ntime they would surely kill him if caught. He seemed to have lost all\npower of action.\n\nNearer and nearer came Iron Bull, shouting at the top of his voice.\n\nBut Blue Wing now seemed to understand the danger of Moccasin's\nsituation; he pricked up his ears, snorted a few times, made several\nshort jumps, to fully arouse Moccasin, who remained paralyzed with fear,\nand then, like a bird, fairly flew over the prairie, as if his little\nhoofs were not touching the ground.\n\nLittle Moccasin, too, was now awakened to his peril, and he patted and\nencouraged Blue Wing; while, from time to time, he looked back over his\nshoulder to watch the approach of Iron Bull.\n\nThus they went, on and on; over ditches and streams, rocks and hills,\nthrough gulches and valleys. Blue Wing was doing nobly, but the pace\ncould not last forever.\n\nIron Bull was now only about five hundred yards behind and gaining on\nhim.\n\nLittle Moccasin felt the cold sweat pouring down his face. He had no\nfire-arm, or he would have stopped to shoot at Iron Bull.\n\nBlue Wing's whole body seemed to tremble beneath his young rider, as if\nthe pony was making a last desperate effort, before giving up from\nexhaustion.\n\nUnfortunately, Little Moccasin did not know how to pray, or he might\nhave found some comfort and help thereby; but in those moments, when a\nterrible death was so near to him, he did the next best thing: he\nthought of his mother and his father, of his little sisters and\nbrothers, and also of Looking-Glass, his kind old foster-mother.\n\nThen he felt better and was imbued with fresh courage. He again looked\nback, gave one loud, defiant yell at Iron Bull, and then went out of\nsight over some high ground.\n\nKi-yi-yi-yi! There is the railroad station just in front, only about\nthree hundred yards away. He sees white men around the buildings, who\nwill protect him.\n\nAt this moment Blue Wing utters one deep groan, stumbles, and falls to\nthe ground. Fortunately, though, Little Moccasin has received no hurt.\nHe jumps up, and runs toward the station as fast as his weary legs can\ncarry him.\n\nAt this very moment Iron Bull with several of his braves came in sight\nagain, and, realizing the helpless condition of the boy, they all gave a\nshout of joy, thinking that in a few minutes they would capture and kill\nhim. But their shouting had been heard by some of the white men, who at\nonce concluded to protect the boy, if he deserved aid.\n\nLittle Moccasin and Iron Bull reached the door of the station-building\nat nearly the same moment; but the former had time enough to dart inside\nand hide under the table of the telegraph operator.\n\nWhen Iron Bull and several other Crows rushed in to pull the boy from\nunderneath the table, the operator quickly took from the table-drawer a\nrevolver, and with it drove the murderous Crows from the premises.\n\nThen the boy had to tell his story, and he was believed. All took pity\nupon his forlorn condition, and his brave flight made them his friends.\n\nIn the evening Blue Wing came up to where Little Moccasin was resting\nand awaiting the arrival of the next train, which was to take him back\nto his own home.\n\nLittle Moccasin threw his arms affectionately around Blue Wing's neck,\nvowing that they never would part again in life.\n\nThen they both were put aboard a lightning express train, which look\nthem to within a short distance of the old camp on the Rosebud.\n\nWhen Little Moccasin arrived at his father's tepee, riding beautiful\nBlue Wing, now rested and frisky, the whole camp flocked around him; and\nwhen he told them of his great daring, of his capture and his escape,\nRunning Antelope, the big warrior of the Uncapapas and the most noted\norator of the tribe, proclaimed him a true hero, and then and there\nbegged his pardon for having called him a \"coffee-cooler.\" In the\nevening Little Moccasin was honored by a great feast and the name of\n\"Rushing Lightning,\" _Wakee-watakeepee_, was bestowed upon him--and by\nthat name he is known to this day.\n\n [Illustration: A YOUNG AGASSIZ]\n\n\n\n\n [Illustration]\n\nWAUKEWA'S EAGLE\n\nBY JAMES BUCKHAM\n\n\nOne day, when the Indian boy Waukewa was hunting along the\nmountain-side, he found a young eagle with a broken wing, lying at the\nbase of a cliff. The bird had fallen from an aerie on a ledge high\nabove, and being too young to fly, had fluttered down the cliff and\ninjured itself so severely that it was likely to die. When Waukewa saw\nit he was about to drive one of his sharp arrows through its body, for\nthe passion of the hunter was strong in him, and the eagle plunders many\na fine fish from the Indian's drying-frame. But a gentler impulse came\nto him as he saw the young bird quivering with pain and fright at his\nfeet, and he slowly unbent his bow, put the arrow in his quiver, and\nstooped over the panting eaglet. For fully a minute the wild eyes of the\nwounded bird and the eyes of the Indian boy, growing gentler and softer\nas he gazed, looked into one another. Then the struggling and panting of\nthe young eagle ceased; the wild, frightened look passed out of its\neyes, and it suffered Waukewa to pass his hand gently over its ruffled\nand draggled feathers. The fierce instinct to fight, to defend its\nthreatened life, yielded to the charm of the tenderness and pity\nexpressed in the boy's eyes; and from that moment Waukewa and the eagle\nwere friends.\n\nWaukewa went slowly home to his father's lodge, bearing the wounded\neaglet in his arms. He carried it so gently that the broken wing gave no\ntwinge of pain, and the bird lay perfectly still, never offering to\nstrike with its sharp beak the hands that clasped it.\n\nWarming some water over the fire at the lodge, Waukewa bathed the broken\nwing of the eagle and bound it up with soft strips of skin. Then he made\na nest of ferns and grass inside the lodge, and laid the bird in it. The\nboy's mother looked on with shining eyes. Her heart was very tender.\nFrom girlhood she had loved all the creatures of the woods, and it\npleased her to see some of her own gentle spirit waking in the boy.\n\nWhen Waukewa's father returned from hunting, he would have caught\nup the young eagle and wrung its neck. But the boy pleaded with him so\neagerly, stooping over the captive and defending it with his small\nhands, that the stern warrior laughed and called him his \"little\nsquaw-heart.\" \"Keep it, then,\" he said, \"and nurse it until it is well.\nBut then you must let it go, for we will not raise up a thief in the\nlodges.\" So Waukewa promised that when the eagle's wing was healed and\ngrown so that it could fly, he would carry it forth and give it its\nfreedom.\n\nIt was a month--or, as the Indians say, a moon--before the young eagle's\nwing had fully mended and the bird was old enough and strong enough to\nfly. And in the meantime Waukewa cared for it and fed it daily, and the\nfriendship between the boy and the bird grew very strong.\n\n [Illustration: \"HE STOOPED OVER THE PANTING EAGLET\"]\n\nBut at last the time came when the willing captive must be freed. So\nWaukewa carried it far away from the Indian lodges, where none of the\nyoung braves might see it hovering over and be tempted to shoot their\narrows at it, and there he let it go. The young eagle rose toward the\nsky in great circles, rejoicing in its freedom and its strange, new\npower of flight. But when Waukewa began to move away from the spot, it\ncame swooping down again; and all day long it followed him through the\nwoods as he hunted. At dusk, when Waukewa shaped his course for the\nIndian lodges, the eagle would have accompanied him. But the boy\nsuddenly slipped into a hollow tree and hid, and after a long time the\neagle stopped sweeping about in search of him and flew slowly and sadly\naway.\n\n [Illustration: \"THE YOUNG EAGLE ROSE TOWARD THE SKY\"]\n\nSummer passed, and then winter; and spring came again, with its flowers\nand birds and swarming fish in the lakes and streams. Then it was that\nall the Indians, old and young, braves and squaws, pushed their light\ncanoes out from shore and with spear and hook waged pleasant war against\nthe salmon and the red-spotted trout. After winter's long imprisonment,\nit was such joy to toss in the sunshine and the warm wind and catch\nsavory fish to take the place of dried meats and corn!\n\nAbove the great falls of the Apahoqui the salmon sported in the cool,\nswinging current, darting under the lee of the rocks and leaping full\nlength in the clear spring air. Nowhere else were such salmon to be\nspeared as those which lay among the riffles at the head of the Apahoqui\nrapids. But only the most daring braves ventured to seek them there,\nfor the current was strong, and should a light canoe once pass the\ndanger-point and get caught in the rush of the rapids, nothing could\nsave it from going over the roaring falls.\n\nVery early in the morning of a clear April day, just as the sun was\nrising splendidly over the mountains, Waukewa launched his canoe a\nhalf-mile above the rapids of the Apahoqui, and floated downward, spear\nin hand, among the salmon-riffles. He was the only one of the Indian\nlads who dared fish above the falls. But he had been there often, and\nnever yet had his watchful eye and his strong paddle suffered the\ncurrent to carry his canoe beyond the danger-point. This morning he was\nalone on the river, having risen long before daylight to be first at the\nsport.\n\nThe riffles were full of salmon, big, lusty fellows, who glided about\nthe canoe on every side in an endless silver stream. Waukewa plunged his\nspear right and left, and tossed one glittering victim after another\ninto the bark canoe. So absorbed in the sport was he that for once he\ndid not notice when the head of the rapids was reached and the canoe\nbegan to glide more swiftly among the rocks. But suddenly he looked up,\ncaught his paddle, and dipped it wildly in the swirling water. The canoe\nswung sidewise, shivered, held its own against the torrent, and then\nslowly, inch by inch, began to creep upstream toward the shore. But\nsuddenly there was a loud, cruel snap, and the paddle parted in the\nboy's hands, broken just above the blade! Waukewa gave a cry of\ndespairing agony. Then he bent to the gunwale of his canoe and with the\nshattered blade fought desperately against the current. But it was\nuseless. The racing torrent swept him downward; the hungry falls roared\ntauntingly in his ears.\n\nThen the Indian boy knelt calmly upright in the canoe, facing the mist\nof the falls, and folded his arms. His young face was stern and lofty.\nHe had lived like a brave hitherto--now he would die like one.\n\nFaster and faster sped the doomed canoe toward the great cataract. The\nblack rocks glided away on either side like phantoms. The roar of the\nterrible waters became like thunder in the boy's ears. But still he\ngazed calmly and sternly ahead, facing his fate as a brave Indian\nshould. At last he began to chant the death-song, which he had learned\nfrom the older braves. In a few moments all would be over. But he would\ncome before the Great Spirit with a fearless hymn upon his lips.\n\nSuddenly a shadow fell across the canoe. Waukewa lifted his eyes and saw\na great eagle hovering over, with dangling legs, and a spread of wings\nthat blotted out the sun. Once more the eyes of the Indian boy and the\neagle met; and now it was the eagle who was master!\n\nWith a glad cry the Indian boy stood up in his canoe, and the eagle\nhovered lower. Now the canoe tossed up on that great swelling wave that\nclimbs to the cataract's edge, and the boy lifted his hands and caught\nthe legs of the eagle. The next moment he looked down into the awful\ngulf of waters from its very verge. The canoe was snatched from beneath\nhim and plunged down the black wall of the cataract; but he and the\nstruggling eagle were floating outward and downward through the cloud of\nmist. The cataract roared terribly, like a wild beast robbed of its\nprey. The spray beat and blinded, the air rushed upward as they fell.\nBut the eagle struggled on with his burden. He fought his way out of the\nmist and the flying spray. His great wings threshed the air with a\nwhistling sound. Down, down they sank, the boy and the eagle, but ever\nfarther from the precipice of water and the boiling whirlpool below. At\nlength, with a fluttering plunge, the eagle dropped on a sand-bar below\nthe whirlpool, and he and the Indian boy lay there a minute, breathless\nand exhausted. Then the eagle slowly lifted himself, took the air under\nhis free wings, and soared away, while the Indian boy knelt on the sand,\nwith shining eyes following the great bird till he faded into the gray\nof the cliffs.\n\n [Illustration: \"WAUKEWA AND THE STRUGGLING EAGLE WERE FLOATING OUTWARD\n AND DOWNWARD THROUGH THE CLOUD OF MIST\"]\n\n\n\n\nA HURON CINDERELLA\n\nBY HOWARD ANGUS KENNEDY\n\n\nMany years ago there was an Indian chief who had three daughters; and\nthey lived in a lodge by the side of the Ottawa River--not in a wigwam,\nmind you, but a good old Huron lodge, like a tunnel, made of two rows of\nyoung trees bent into arches and tied together at the top, with walls of\nbirch-bark. Oh! it was an honorable old lodge, with more cracks in the\nbirch-bark than you could count, all patched and smeared with pitch.\n\nThe chief had three sons too, but they were killed in a great fight with\nthe Iroquois. When the brave Hurons used up all their arrows they threw\ndown their bows and rushed on the Iroquois with their tomahawks. They\nscreamed and howled like eagles and wolves, and the Iroquois were so\nfrightened that they wanted to run away, but their own magic-man threw a\nspell upon them, so that they couldn't turn round or run, and they had\nto stand and fight. The Iroquois were cousins of the Hurons, and came of\na brave stock; and as the Hurons were few compared to the Iroquois, few\nas the thumbs compared to the fingers, the Hurons were beaten, and only\ntwenty men of the tribe escaped down the river, and none of the women\nexcept the chief's three daughters.\n\nNow the two eldest daughters were very proud, and loved to make a fine\nshow before the young men of the tribe. One day a brave young man came\nto the lodge and asked the chief to give him a daughter for a wife.\n\nThe chief said, \"It is not right for me to give my daughter to any but a\nchief's son.\" However, he called his eldest daughter and said to her,\n\"This young man wants you for a wife.\"\n\nThe eldest daughter thought in her mind: \"I am very handsome, and one\nday a chief's son will come and ask for me; but my clothes are old and\ncommon. I will deceive this young man.\" So she said to him: \"If you want\nme for your wife, get me a big piece of the fine red cloth that the\nwhite men bring to the fort far down the river.\"\n\nThe young man was brave, as we have said, and he took his birch-bark\ncanoe and paddled down the river day after day for seven days, only\nstopping to paddle up the creeks where the beavers build their dams; and\nwhen he stopped at the foot of the great rapids, where the white men lay\nbehind stone walls in fear of the Iroquois, his canoe was deep and heavy\nwith the skins of the beavers. The white men were at war with the\nIndians, and, though he was no Iroquois, his heart grew cold in his\nbreast. But he did not tremble; he marched in at the watergate, and the\nwhite men were glad to see his beaver skins, and gave him much red cloth\nfor them; so his heart grew warm again, and he paddled up the river with\nhis riches. Twelve days he paddled, for the current was strong against\nhim; but at last he stood outside the old lodge, and called the chief's\neldest daughter to come out and be his wife. When she saw how red was\nhis load, she was glad and sorry--glad because of the cloth, and sorry\nbecause of the man.\n\n\"But where are the beads?\" said she.\n\n\"You asked me for no beads,\" said he.\n\n\"Fool!\" said she. \"Was it ever heard that a chief's daughter married in\nclothing of plain red cloth? If you want me for your wife, bring me a\ndouble handful of the glass beads that the Frenchmen bring from over the\nsea--red and white and blue and yellow beads!\"\n\nSo the brave paddled off in his canoe down the river. When he came to\nthe beavers' creeks he found the dams and the lodges; but the beavers\nwere gone. He followed them up the creeks till the water got so shallow\nthat the rocks tore holes in his canoe, and he had to stop and strip\nfresh birch-bark to mend the holes; but at last he found where the\nbeavers were building their new dams; and he loaded his canoe with their\nskins, and paddled away and shot over the rapids, and came to the white\nman's fort. The white men passed their hands over the skins and felt\nthat they were good, and gave him a double handful of beads. Then he\npaddled up the river, paddling fast and hard, so that when he stood\nbefore the old chief's lodge he was very thin.\n\nThe eldest daughter came out when he called, and said: \"It is a shame\nfor such an ugly man to have a chief's daughter for his wife. You are\nnot a man; you are only the bones of a man, like the poles of the lodge\nwhen the bark is stripped away. Come back when you are fat.\"\n\nThen he went away to his lodge, and ate and slept and ate and slept till\nhe was fat, and he made his face beautiful with red clay and went and\ncalled to the chief's daughter to come and marry him. But she called out\nto him, saying:\n\n\"A chief's daughter must have time to embroider her clothes. Come back\nwhen I have made my cloth beautiful with a strip of beadwork a\nhand's-breadth wide from end to end of the cloth.\"\n\n [Illustration: FLUTE PLAYER\n FROM A PAINTING BY J. H. SHARP]\n\nBut she was very lazy as well as proud, and she took the cloth to her\nyoungest sister, and said: \"Embroider a beautiful strip, a\nhand's-breadth wide, from end to end of the cloth.\"\n\nNow the chief's youngest daughter was very beautiful; so her sisters\nwere jealous and made her live in the dark corner at the back of the\nlodge, where no man could see her; but her eyes were very bright, and by\nthe light of her eyes she arranged the beads and sewed them on so that\nthe pattern was like the flowers of the earth and the stars of heaven,\nit was so beautiful. But when the youngest daughter had fallen asleep at\nnight her eldest sister came softly and took away the cloth and picked\noff the beads.\n\nIn the morning she went to her youngest sister and said, \"Show me the\nwork you did yesterday.\"\n\nAnd the youngest sister cried, and said, \"Truly I worked as well as I\ncould, but some evil one has picked out the beads.\"\n\nThen her sister scolded her, and pricked her with the needle, and said,\n\"You are lazy! Embroider this cloth, and do it beautifully, or I shall\nbeat you!\"\n\nThis she did day after day, and whenever the young man came to see if\nshe was dressed for the wedding she showed him the cloth, and it was not\nfinished.\n\nNow there was another brave young man in that village, and he came and\nasked the chief for his second daughter.\n\nThe second daughter was as proud as the first, and said to herself, \"One\nday a great chief's son will come, and I will marry him.\" But she said\nto the young man, \"If you want me for your wife, you must build me a new\nlodge, and cover the door of it with a curtain of beaver-skins.\"\n\nThe young man smiled in his heart, for he said to himself, \"This is\neasy; this is child's play.\" So he built a new lodge, and hung a curtain\nof beaver-skins over the door.\n\nBut when the chief's daughter saw the curtain, she said, \"I should be\nashamed to live behind a curtain of plain beaver-skins like that! Go and\nhunt for porcupines, that the curtain may be embroidered with their\nquills.\"\n\nSo he took his bow and his arrows and went away through the woods to\nhunt. Twelve days he marched, till he came to the porcupines' country.\nWhen the porcupines saw him coming; they ran to meet him, crying out,\n\"Don't kill us! We will give you all the quills that you want.\" And\nwhile he stood doubting, the porcupines turned round, and shot their\nprickly quills out at him so that they stuck in his body. And the\nporcupines ran away into hiding before he could shoot.\n\nThen the young man, because he had been gone so long already, did not\nchase the porcupines, but left the quills sticking in his body and went\nback to the village, saying to himself, \"She will see how brave I am,\nthat I care nothing for the pain of the porcupine quills.\"\n\nBut when the chief's daughter saw him she only laughed and said:\n\n\"You cannot deceive me! It was never heard that a chief's daughter\nmarried a man who was not brave. If you were brave, you would have\ntwenty Iroquois scalps hanging from your belt. It is easy to hunt\nporcupines; go and hunt the Iroquois, that I may embroider the curtain\nblack and white with the porcupine-quills and the Iroquois hair.\"\n\nThen the young man's heart grew cold; but he took his bow and arrows and\nwent through the woods; and when he came near the Iroquois town he lay\ndown on his face and slipped through the bushes like a snake. When an\nIroquois came to hunt in the woods, he shot the Iroquois and took his\nscalp; and this he did till he had twenty scalps on his belt.\n\nNow all the time that he lay in the bushes by the Iroquois town he ate\nnothing but wild strawberries, for the blueberries were not yet ripe; so\nwhen he came to his own village and called to the chief's second\ndaughter, she said:\n\n\"You are an ill-looking man for a chief's daughter to marry. You are\nlike a porcupine-quill yourself. Nevertheless, I am not like my sister,\nand I will marry you as soon as the curtain is embroidered.\"\n\nThen she took the curtain of beaver-skin and gave it to her youngest\nsister, and said:\n\n\"Embroider this curtain with quills, black and white, and criss-cross,\nso that it shall be more beautiful than the red cloth and the beadwork.\"\n\nSo the youngest sister, when she had done her day's work on the cloth,\nand was tired and ready to sleep, took the quills and the hair and began\nto embroider the curtain, black and white, in beautiful patterns like\nthe boughs of the trees against the sky, till she could work no longer,\nand fell asleep with her chin on her breast.\n\nThen her second sister came with her mischievous fingers and picked out\nall the embroidery of quills and hair, and in the morning came and shook\nher and waked her, and said, \"You are lazy! you are lazy! Embroider this\ncurtain!\"\n\nIn this way the youngest sister's task was doubled, and she grew thin\nfor want of sleep; yet she was so beautiful, and her eyes shone so\nbrightly, that her sisters hated her more and more, for they said to\nthemselves, \"If a great chief's son comes this way, he will see her eyes\nshining even in the dark at the back of the lodge.\"\n\nOne day, when the chief looked out of his door, he saw a new lodge\nstanding in the middle of the village, covered with buckskin, and\npainted round with pictures of wonderful beasts that had never been seen\nin that country before. There was a fire in front of the lodge, and the\nhaunch of a deer was cooking on the fire. When the chief went and stood\nand looked in at the door, the lodge was empty, and he said, \"Whose can\nthis lodge be?\"\n\nThen a voice close by him said, \"It is the lodge of a chief who is\ngreater than any chief of the Hurons or any chief of the Iroquois.\"\n\n\"Where is he?\" asked the old chief.\n\n\"I am sitting beside my fire,\" said the voice; \"but you cannot see me,\nfor your eyes are turned inward. No one can see me but the maiden I have\ncome to marry.\"\n\n\"There are no maidens here,\" said the old chief, \"except my daughters.\"\n\nThen he went back to his lodge, where his two elder daughters were\nidling in the sun, and told them:\n\n\"There is a great chief come to seek a wife in my tribe. His magic is so\nstrong that no one can see him except the maiden whom he chooses to\nmarry.\"\n\nThen the eldest daughter got up, snatched the red cloth out of her\nyoungest sister's hand, wrapped it round her, smeared red clay over her\nface, and ran to the new lodge and called to the great chief to come and\nlook at her.\n\n\"I am looking at you now,\" said a voice close beside her; \"and you are\nvery ugly; you have been dipping your face in the mud. And you are very\nlazy, for your embroidery is not finished.\"\n\n\"Great chief,\" said she, \"I will wash the clay from my face, and I will\ngo and finish the embroidery and make a robe fit for a maiden who is to\nmarry the great chief.\"\n\nThen the voice said, \"How can you marry a man you cannot see?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, \"I can see you as plainly as the lodge and the fire. I\ncan see you quite plainly, sitting beside the fire.\"\n\n\"Then tell me what I am like,\" said he.\n\n\"You are the handsomest of men,\" she said, \"straight of back and brown\nof skin.\"\n\n\"Go home,\" said the voice, \"and learn to speak truth.\"\n\nWhen she came back to the lodge, she flung the red cloth down on the\nground without speaking.\n\nThen the old chief said to his second daughter, \"Your sister has failed;\nit must be you that the great chief will marry.\"\n\nSo the second daughter picked up the beaver curtain and flung it round\nher, and ran to the empty lodge; and, being crafty, she cried aloud as\nshe came near, \"Oh! What a handsome chief you are!\"\n\n\"How do you know I am handsome?\" said the voice. \"Tell me what clothes I\nwear.\"\n\nSo she guessed in her mind, and, looking on the painted lodge, she said,\n\"A robe of buckskin, with wonderful animals painted on it.\"\n\n\"Go home,\" said the voice, \"and learn to speak truth.\"\n\nThen she slunk away home, and squatted on the ground before the lodge,\nwith her chin on her breast.\n\nNow, when the youngest daughter saw that both her sisters had failed,\nshe said to herself, \"They tell me I am very thin and ugly, but I will\ngo and try if I can see this great chief.\" So she pushed aside a corner\nof the birch-bark, slipped out at the back of the lodge, and stole away\nto the painted lodge; and there, sitting by his fire on the ground, she\nsaw a wonderful great chief, with skin as white as midwinter snow,\ndressed in a long robe of red and blue and green and yellow stripes.\n\nHe smiled on her as she stood humbly before him, and said, \"Tell me now,\nchief's daughter, what I am like, and what I wear!\"\n\nAnd she said, \"Your face is like a cloud in the north when the sun\nshines bright from the south; and your robe is like the arch in the sky\nwhen the sun shines on the rain.\"\n\nThen he stood up and took her for his wife, and carried her away to live\nin his own country.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRE BRINGER[S]\n\nBY MARY AUSTIN\n\n\nThey ranged together by wood and open swale, the boy who was to be\ncalled Fire Bringer, and the keen, gray dog of the wilderness, and saw\nthe tribesmen catching fish in the creeks with their hands, and the\nwomen digging roots with sharp stones. This they did in Summer, and\nfared well; but when Winter came they ran nakedly in the snow, or\nhuddled in caves of the rocks, and were very miserable. When the boy saw\nthis he was very unhappy, and brooded over it until the Coyote noticed\nit.\n\n\"It is because my people suffer and have no way to escape the cold,\"\nsaid the boy.\n\n\"I do not feel it,\" said the Coyote.\n\n\"That is because of your coat of good fur, which my people have not,\nexcept they take it in the chase, and it is hard to come by.\"\n\n\"Let them run about, then,\" said the counselor, \"and keep warm.\"\n\n\"They run till they are weary,\" said the boy; \"and there are the young\nchildren and the very old. Is there no way for them?\"\n\n\"Come,\" said the Coyote, \"let us go to the hunt.\"\n\n\"I will hunt no more,\" the boy answered him, \"until I have found a way\nto save my people from the cold. Help me, O counselor!\"\n\nBut the Coyote had run away. After a time he came back and found the boy\nstill troubled in his mind.\n\n\"There is a way, O Man Friend,\" said the Coyote, \"and you and I must\ntake it together, but it is very hard.\"\n\n\"I will not fail of my part,\" said the boy.\n\n\"We will need a hundred men and women, strong, and swift runners.\"\n\n\"I will find them,\" the boy insisted, \"only tell me.\"\n\n\"We must go,\" said the Coyote, \"to the Burning Mountain by the Big Water\nand bring fire to our people.\"\n\nSaid the boy: \"What is fire?\"\n\nThen the Coyote considered a long time how he should tell the boy what\nfire is. \"It is,\" said he, \"red like a flower, yet it is no flower;\nneither is it a beast, though it runs in the grass and rages in the wood\nand devours all. It is very fierce and hurtful, and stays not for\nasking; yet if it is kept among stones and fed with small sticks, it\nwill serve the people well and keep them warm.\"\n\n\"How is it to be come at?\"\n\n\"It has its lair in the Burning Mountain; and the Fire Spirits guard it\nnight and day. It is a hundred days' journey from this place, and\nbecause of the jealousy of the Fire Spirits no man dare go near it. But\nI, because all beasts are known to fear it much, may approach it without\nhurt, and, it may be, bring you a brand from the burning. Then you must\nhave strong runners for every one of the hundred days to bring it safely\nhome.\"\n\n\"I will go and get them,\" said the boy; but it was not so easily done as\nsaid. Many there were who were slothful, and many were afraid; but the\nmost disbelieved it wholly.\n\n\"For,\" they said, \"how should this boy tell us of a thing of which we\nhave never heard!\" But at last the boy and their own misery persuaded\nthem.\n\nThe Coyote advised them how the march should begin. The boy and the\ncounselor went foremost; next to them the swiftest runners, with the\nothers following in the order of their strength, and speed. They left\nthe place of their home and went over the high mountains where great\njagged peaks stand up above the snow, and down the way the streams led\nthrough a long stretch of giant wood where the somber shade and the\nsound of the wind in the branches made them afraid. At nightfall, where\nthey rested, one stayed in that place, and the next night another\ndropped behind; and so it was at the end of each day's journey. They\ncrossed a great plain where waters of mirage rolled over a cracked and\nparching earth, and the rim of the world was hidden in a bluish mist. So\nthey came at last to another range of hills, not so high, but tumbled\nthickly together; and beyond these, at the end of the hundred days, to\nthe Big Water, quaking along the sand at the foot of the Burning\nMountain.\n\nIt stood up in a high and peaked cone, and the smoke of its burning\nrolled out and broke along the sky. By night the glare of it reddened\nthe waves far out on the Big Water, when the Fire Spirits began their\ndance.\n\nThen said the counselor to the boy who was soon to be called the Fire\nBringer: \"Do you stay here until I bring you a brand from the burning;\nbe ready and right for running, and lose no time, for I shall be far\nspent when I come again, and the Fire Spirits will pursue me.\"\n\n [Illustration: THE COYOTE STOLE THE FIRE AND BEGAN TO RUN AWAY WITH IT\n DOWN THE SLOPE OF THE BURNING MOUNTAIN]\n\nThen he went up the mountain, and the Fire Spirits, when they saw him\ncome, were laughing and very merry, for his appearance was much against\nhim. Lean he was, and his coat much the worse for the long way he had\ncome. Slinking he looked, inconsiderable, scurvy, and mean, as he has\nalways looked, and it served him as well then as it serves him now. So\nthe Fire Spirits only laughed, and paid him no further heed.\n\nAlong in the night, when they came out to begin their dance about the\nmountain, the Coyote stole the fire and began to run away with it down\nthe slope of the Burning Mountain. When the Fire Spirits saw what he had\ndone, they streamed out after him red and angry in pursuit, with a sound\nlike a swarm of bees.\n\nThe boy saw them come, and stood up in his place clean-limbed and taut\nfor running. He saw the sparks of the brand stream back along the\nCoyote's flanks as he carried it in his mouth, and stretched forward on\nthe trail, bright against the dark bulk of the mountain like a falling\nstar. He heard the singing sound of the Fire Spirits behind, and the\nlabored breath of the counselor nearing through the dark. Then the good\nbeast panted down beside him, and the brand dropped from his jaws.\n\nThe boy caught it up, standing bent for the running as a bow to speeding\nthe arrow. Out he shot on the homeward path, and the Fire Spirits\nsnapped and sung behind him. Fast as they pursued he fled faster, until\nhe saw the next runner stand up in his place to receive the brand.\n\nSo it passed from hand to hand, and the Fire Spirits tore after it\nthrough the scrub until they came to the mountains of the snows. These\nthey could not pass; and the dark, sleek runners with the\nbackward-streaming brand bore it forward, shining star-like in the\nnight, glowing red through sultry noons, violet pale in twilight glooms,\nuntil they came in safety to their own land. Here they kept it among\nstones, and fed it with small sticks, as the Coyote had advised, until\nit warmed them and cooked their food.\n\nAs for the boy by whom fire came to the tribes, he was called the Fire\nBringer while he lived; and after that, since there was no other with so\ngood a right to the name, it fell to the Coyote; and this is the sign\nthat the tale is true, for all along his lean flanks the fur is singed\nand yellow as it was by the flames that blew backward from the brand\nwhen he brought it down from the Burning Mountain.\n\nAs for the fire, that went on broadening and brightening, and giving out\na cheery sound until it broadened into the light of day.\n\n [S] From \"The Basket Woman,\" by Mary Austin; used by\n permission of the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin Company.\n\n\n\n\nSCAR FACE\n\n_An Indian Tale_\n\n\nThe mother of Scar Face the Youth was Feather Woman, who had fallen in\nlove with Morning Star, and vowed that she would marry none other. To\nthis she held true, despite the laughter and jibes of her friends. And\none morning when she walked in the fields very, very early, that she\nmight see Morning Star before the sun hid his brightness, she met a\nhandsome youth who told her that he was Morning Star, and that he had\ncome to earth for a day, impelled by her love.\n\nSo Feather Woman went back to Skyland with Morning Star, and by-and-by a\nlittle son was born to her. At first she had been very happy in Skyland,\nbut there were times when she was sad because of the camp of the\nBlackfeet, which she had left.\n\nNow, in Skyland Feather Woman often dug in the garden, and she had been\ncautioned not to uproot the turnip, lest evil befall. After she was\ngiven this charge she looked long at the turnip and wondered what evil\nmight come from its uprooting. At last she took her flint and dug around\nthe least bit, not wanting to uproot it; but hardly had she loosened the\nturnip when it came out of the ground, and she looked down through the\nhole which it had made in the sky and saw the camp of the Blackfeet\nspread before her.\n\nSuddenly she began to weep for her friends; and when her father-in-law,\nthe Sun, saw her weeping, he said: \"You have dug up the turnip and have\nlooked down at the camp of the Blackfeet. Now must you return thither.\"\n\nSo the star-weavers made a net, and Feather Woman and her child, the son\nof Morning Star, were let down into the camp of the Blackfeet.\n\nAt first she was very happy, but soon she began to grieve for Morning\nStar, and at last she died of sorrow because she could not return to\nSkyland. Morning Star could not come to earth, for it had been given to\nhim to come but that one time when impelled by her love.\n\nAnd so the little son of Feather Woman and Morning Star was left all\nalone. And across his face was a great scar, which had been made there\nwhen he had been let down from Skyland in the net woven by the\nstar-weavers. Because of this scar he was named, and because of it he\nwas very ugly, so that the children of the tribe were afraid of him, and\nthe older folks hated him; they said that evil must be in his heart that\nhe should have so ugly a face.\n\nBut there was no evil in the heart of Scar Face, and he hunted and\nfished alone, and became a great hunter, bringing home much meat to the\ntribe.\n\nBut he was not happy, because of the unfriendliness of the tribe. The\nChief had a very beautiful daughter, and all the young men of the tribe\nloved her; and Scar Face, too, loved her, and longed to marry her.\n\nSo at last he went to her and told her of his love, and asked her to\nmarry him; and she, thinking to jest, said: \"I will marry you when you\ntake that ugly scar from your face.\"\n\nAt this Scar Face was more sad than he had been before, for he did not\nsee how it was possible to get rid of the scar. But he loved the Chief's\ndaughter very much, and at last he went to the old Medicine Man of the\ntribe to ask him what he could do to get rid of the scar.\n\n\"You can do nothing,\" replied the Medicine Man. \"The scar was put there\nby the Sun, and only the Sun can take it away.\"\n\n\"Then I will go to the Sun and ask him to take away the scar,\" said Scar\nFace.\n\n\"If you will do that,\" replied the Medicine Man, \"you must journey far\nto the west, where the land ends and where the Big Water is. And when\nyou come to the Big Water at sunset you will see a long trail, marked by\na golden light, which leads to the home of the Sun. Follow the trail.\"\n\nSo Scar Face set out and went to where the land ends and the Big Water\nis. And he sat by the Big Water until sunset, and he saw the trail as\nthe Medicine Man had said. Then he followed the trail, and came at last\nto Skyland, where he was greeted by Morning Star, who knew him at once\nfor his son.\n\nMorning Star was most glad at the coming of his son, and they hunted and\nfished together. And one day when they were hunting they came to a deep\ncavern in which was a dreadful serpent, which attacked Morning Star and\nwould have killed him but that Scar Face quickly cut off its head.\n\nThen the Sun was grateful to Scar Face for saving the life of his son,\nMorning Star, and he removed the scar from the face of his grandson,\nwhich he had put there in anger at the child's mother.\n\nThen Scar Face went back to the tribe of the Blackfeet, and he was the\nmost handsome of all the youths; and the daughter of the Chief loved\nhim, and he had no difficulty in persuading her to marry him. Because he\nloved his father, Morning Star, he took her with him and set out again\nfor the place where the land ends and the Big Water begins; and together\nthey followed the trail marked by golden light until they came at last\nto Skyland. There they lived and were happy; and Morning Star shone with\nespecial brightness on the camp of the Blackfeet for their sake.\n\n\n\n\nWHY THE BABY SAYS \"GOO\"\n\nRETOLD BY EHRMA G. FILER\n\n\nOn a sloping highland near the snow-capped mountains of the North was an\nIndian village. The Chief of the village was a very brave man, and he\nhad done many wonderful things.\n\nThese were the days of magic and witchery. The Ice Giants had attempted\nto raid the land; some wicked Witches had tried to cast an evil spell\nover the people; and once a neighboring colony of Dwarfs had tried to\ninvade the village.\n\nBut the brave Chief had fought and conquered all these forces of evil\nand magic. He was so successful and so good that the people loved him\nvery much. They thought he could do anything.\n\nThen before long the Chief himself began to be proud and vain. He had\nconquered everyone; so he thought he was the greatest warrior in the\nworld.\n\nOne day he boastfully said: \"I can conquer anything or any person on\nthis earth.\"\n\nNow, a certain Wise Old Woman lived in this village. She knew one whom\nthe Chief could not conquer. She decided it was best for the Chief to\nknow this, for he was getting too vain. So one day she went to the Chief\nand told him.\n\n\"Granny, who is this marvelous person?\" asked the Chief, half angrily.\n\n\"We call him Wasis,\" she solemnly answered.\n\n\"Show him to me,\" said the Chief. \"I will prove that I can conquer him.\"\n\nThe old grandmother led the way to her own wigwam. A great crowd\nfollowed to see what would happen.\n\n\"There he is,\" said the Wise Old Woman; and she pointed to a dear little\nIndian baby, who sat, round-eyed and solemn, sucking a piece of sugar.\n\nThe Chief was astonished. He could not imagine what the old woman meant,\nfor he was sure he could make a little baby obey him. This Chief had no\nwife, and knew nothing about babies. He stepped up closer to the baby,\nand looking seriously at him said:\n\n\"Baby, come here!\"\n\nLittle Wasis merely smiled back at him and gurgled, \"Goo, Goo,\" in true\nbaby fashion.\n\nThe Chief felt very queer. No one had ever answered him so before. Then\nhe thought, perhaps the baby did not understand; so he stepped nearer\nand said kindly: \"Baby, come here!\"\n\n\"Goo, Goo!\" answered baby, and waved his little dimpled hand.\n\nThis was an open insult, the Chief felt; so he called out loudly: \"Baby,\ncome here at once!\"\n\nThis frightened little Wasis, and he opened his little mouth and began\nto cry. The Chief had never before heard such a noise. He drew back, and\nlooked helplessly around.\n\n\"You see, little Wasis shouts back war-cries,\" said the Wise Old Woman.\n\nThis angered the Chief, and he said: \"I will overcome him with my magic\npower.\"\n\nThen he began to mutter queer songs, and to dance around the baby.\n\nThis pleased little Wasis, and he smiled and watched the Chief, never\nmoving to go to him. He just sat and sucked his sugar.\n\nAt last the Chief was tired out. His red paint was streaked with sweat;\nhis feathers were falling, and his legs ached. He sat down and looked at\nthe old woman.\n\n\"Did I not say that baby is mightier than you?\" said she. \"No one is\nmightier than he. A baby rules the wigwam, and everyone obeys him.\"\n\n\"It is truly so,\" said the Chief, and went outside.\n\nThe last sound he heard as he walked away was the \"Goo, Goo\" of little\nWasis as he crowed in victory. It _was_ his war-cry. All babies mean\njust that when they gurgle so at you.\n\n [Illustration: Copyright by E. M. Newman\n INDIAN GROUP]","title":"Boys and Girls Bookshelf (Vol 2 of 17): Folk-Lore, Fables, And Fairy Tales","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":232827}