{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66687/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66687","id":"gutenberg_66687","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66687","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Communism -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales -- Germany"],"text":"FAIRY TALES\n                                  for\n                           WORKERS\u2019 CHILDREN\n\n                                   by\n                          HERMINIA ZUR M\u00dcHLEN\n\n                TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY IDA DAILES\n            COVER DRAWINGS AND COLOR PLATES BY LYDIA GIBSON\n\n\n                            PUBLISHED BY THE\n                      DAILY WORKER PUBLISHING CO.\n              1113 West Washington Boulevard Chicago, Ill.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                             The Rose-bush\n                              The Sparrow\n                          The Little Grey Dog\n                                  Why?\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nDear Little Comrades:\n\nThe work of translating this little book of fairy tales for workers\u2019\nchildren is very small in comparison to the joy I get from the\nknowledge that you, my beloved young comrades, are going to enjoy it.\n\nYou have read many fairy tales, some of them very beautiful and some\nthat frightened you with their horrible giants and goblins. But never,\nI am sure, have you read such lovely stories about real everyday\nthings. You see poor people suffering around you every day; some of you\nhave yourselves felt how hard it is to be poor. You know that there are\nrich people in the world, that they do not work and have all the good\nthings of life. You also know that your fathers work hard and then\nworry about what will happen if they lose their jobs.\n\nComrade zur M\u00fchlen, who wrote these fairy tales, tells us in a\nbeautiful way how these things can be stopped. All of us who work must\nlearn that we can make the world a better place for workers and their\nchildren to live in if we will help one another. She shows us that the\nrich people who do not work but keep us enslaved are our enemies; we\nmust join together, we workers of the world, and stop these wrongs.\n\nEven the pretty, delicate Rose-bush knew how to use her thorns when the\nrich lady came near her. The little Sparrow died while seeking a better\nland for the Sparrow brothers, but he did not die in vain. The faithful\nlittle grey dog gave his life for the Negro boy who had saved him from\nbeing drowned; and the Crocodile proved that even an ugly, hungry beast\ncan be more kind than a rich slave-owner. And our little lonely friend\nPaul learned that he must not stop asking why things were wrong in the\nworld, but that he must make comrades of all the workers and teach them\nalso to ask why, until millions would be asking that question and\nseeking to find the answer to it.\n\nWhen you read these stories, I am sure you will want to lend the book\nto all your friends, so that they too may spend some happy hours with\nthe new friends you have found in the book.\n\n\nYour loving comrade,\n\nIda Dailes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROSE-BUSH\n\n\nThe Rose-bush did not know where she was born and where she spent her\nearly days\u2014it is a well known fact that flowers have a bad memory, but\nto make up for that they can see into the future. When she first became\nconscious of herself, she stood in the middle of a magnificent green\nlawn. To one side of her she saw a great white stone house, that\ngleamed through the branches of linden trees, to the other side stood a\nhigh trellised gate through which she could see the street.\n\nA thin tall man carefully tended the Rose-bush; he brought manure,\nbound the drooping twigs of the Rose-bush together with bark, brought\nwater for the thirsty roots of the Rose-bush to drink. The Rose-bush\nwas grateful to the man, and as the buds she was covered with opened\ninto dainty red roses, she said to her friend, \u201cYou have taken care of\nme, it is because of you that I have become so beautiful. Take some of\nmy loveliest blossoms in return.\u201d\n\nThe man shook his head. \u201cYou mean well, dear Rose-bush, and I would\ngladly take some of your beautiful blossoms for my sick wife. But I\ndare not do it. You don\u2019t belong to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t belong to you!\u201d exclaimed the Rose-bush. \u201cDon\u2019t I belong to\nthe person who has taken care of me and troubled himself about me? Then\nto whom do I belong?\u201d\n\nThe man pointed with his hand to the gleaming white house among the\ntrees and replied, \u201cTo the gracious lady who lives there.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat can\u2019t be,\u201d replied the Rose-bush. \u201cI have never seen this lady.\nIt is not she who has sprinkled water on me, loosened the earth at my\nroots, bound together my twigs. Then how can I belong to her?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has bought you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is something different. Then the poor woman must have worked hard\nto save so much money. Good! Half of my blossoms shall belong to her.\u201d\n\nThe man laughed a little sadly, saying, \u201cOh, beloved Rose-bush, you\ndon\u2019t yet know the world, I can see that. The lady did not lift a\nfinger to earn the money.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen how did she get it?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe owns a great factory in which countless workers drudge; from there\ncomes her wealth.\u201d\n\nThe Rose-bush became angry, lifted a bough up high, threatened the man\nwith her thorn-claws, shouting, \u201cI see you enjoy yourself at my expense\nbecause I am still young and inexperienced, telling me untruths about\nthe world of men. Still I am not so stupid, I have observed ants and\nbees, and know that to each belongs the things for which he has\nworked.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat may be so among bees and ants,\u201d the man sighed deeply, \u201cyet among\nmen it is different. There the people receive just enough to keep them\nfrom starving\u2014all else belongs to the master. The master builds\nsplendid mansions, plants lovely gardens, buys flowers.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that really true?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nThe man went back to his work and the Rose-bush began to meditate. Yet\nthe longer she thought, the worse her temper grew. Yes, even though she\nusually had very fine manners, she spoke roughly to a bee who wished to\nvisit her. The bee was still young and timid, and flew off in fright as\nfast as his wings could carry him. Then the Rose-bush was sorry for her\nrough behavior, because she was naturally friendly, and also because\nshe might have asked the bee whether the man had spoken the truth.\n\nWhile she was so engrossed in thought, suddenly some one shook her and\na mischievous voice asked, \u201cWell, my friend, what are you dreaming\nabout?\u201d\n\nThe Rose-bush looked up with her countless eyes and recognized the\nWind, that stood laughing before her shaking his head so that his long\nhair flew about.\n\n\u201cWind, beloved Wind!\u201d joyfully exclaimed the Rose-bush, \u201cYou come as\nthough you had been called. Tell me whether the man has spoken the\ntruth.\u201d And she reported everything the man had said to her.\n\nThe Wind suddenly became serious and whistled through his teeth so\nviolently that the branches of the Rose-bush began to tremble. \u201cYes,\u201d\ndeclared he, \u201call this is true, and even worse. I come here from all\nover the whole world and see everything. Often I am so seized with\nanger that I begin to rave; then the stupid people say, \u2018My! what a\nstorm!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the rich people can really buy everything?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d growled the wind. Then suddenly he laughed. \u201cNot me. They can\u2019t\ncapture and imprison me. I am the friend of the poor. I fly to all\nlands. In big cities, I station myself before ill-smelling cellars and\nroar into them \u2018Freedom! Justice!\u2019 To tired, overworked people I sing a\nlullaby, \u2018Be courageous, keep together, fight, you will conquer!\u2019 Then\nthey feel new strength, they know a comrade has spoken to them.\u201d He\ntittered, and all the leaves in the garden stirred. \u201cThe rich would\nlike to imprison me, because I carry the message, but I whistle at\nthem. At night I rattle their windows so that they become frightened in\ntheir soft beds, and then I cry, \u2018Ho ho, you idlers, your time is\ncoming. Make room for the workers of the world!\u2019 At that they are very\nfrightened, draw the silken covers over their ears, try to comfort\nthemselves: \u2018It was only the wind!\u2019\u201d\n\nThe Wind lifted one of his legs high and pushed it with all his weight\nagainst the magnificent white house. The windows clattered, many things\nin the house were broken, a woman\u2019s voice shrieked. The Wind laughed,\nthen drew his leg back and said to the Rose-bush: \u201cYou also can do\nsomething, you flowers. Do not bloom for the rich idlers, and the fruit\ntrees should not bear fruit. But you are pleasure-loving and lazy\ncreatures. Look at the Tulips that stand up so sturdily all day, always\nsaying nothing but \u2018How lovely we are!\u2019 They have no other interests.\u201d\n\nThe petals of the Rose-bush became a deeper red, so ashamed was she of\nher sister-flower.\n\nThe Wind noticed this and tried to comfort her. \u201cYou appear to be a\nsensible, kind-hearted bush. I shall visit you more often. Give me one\nof your petals as a parting gift.\u201d He took a deep red petal from a full\nblown rose. \u201cBe happy\u2014now I must leave.\u201d\n\nAt that moment two poorly-dressed pale children came along the street.\nThey stopped before the gate and cried as though with one voice, \u201cOh,\nthe beautiful roses!\u201d The little girl stretched her hands longingly\ntoward the blossoms.\n\n\u201cWind, beloved Wind,\u201d called the Rose-bush, as loud as she could.\n\u201cBefore you fly away, break off two of my loveliest roses and throw\nthem to the children. But be careful that the petals do not drop off.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think I am so clumsy?\u201d grumbled the insulted Wind, breaking off\ntwo handsome roses, and blew them lightly, gently to the children.\n\nThe children shouted joyfully, the Wind flew away, and the Rose-bush\nenjoyed the happiness of the children. Her enjoyment did not last long.\nAn angry voice scolded the children. \u201cWhat impudence is this, to steal\nthe flowers out of my garden!\u201d\n\nThe Rose-bush saw a silk-clad lady with fingers that were covered with\nrings threatening the children. Her smooth face was red with anger. The\nchildren were frightened and ran off crying.\n\nThe Rose-bush breathed deep with indignation and her breath blew\nsweeter perfume towards the lady\u2019s face. She stepped closer. \u201cAh, the\nbeautiful roses. I had better pick them, otherwise the rabble from the\nstreets will steal them. And they are such an expensive kind.\u201d\n\nAt this the Rose-bush became enraged, so that her blossoms blazed a\nfiery red. \u201cIf I were only strong as the wind,\u201d thought she, \u201cI would\nget hold of this evil woman and shake her so that she would become deaf\nand blind. Such a common creature has a whole garden full of the most\ngorgeous flowers and begrudges the children for two paltry roses. But\nyou shall not have even one of my blossoms, you bad woman, just wait.\u201d\n\nAnd as the woman bent down to pick the flowers, the Rose-bush hit her\nin the face with a twig, stretching out all her thorns like a cat\nstretches out its claws, and scratched up the woman\u2019s face.\n\nShe screamed aloud. The woman did not want to cease from her task, but\nthe Rose-bush was as willful as she; wherever the hand of the woman\nreached, a large thorn sprang out and scratched her till she bled.\n\nAt last the woman, with torn clothes, with scratched, dirty hands, had\nto turn back home.\n\nThe Rose-bush was completely tired from the heated struggle. Her many\ngreen arms hung limply, her flowers were paler, she sighed softly. Yet\nshe thought more deeply and arrived at a mighty resolution.\n\nLate in the evening the Wind came flying to bid the Rose-bush\ngood-night, and the Rose-bush said to him solemnly, \u201cListen to me,\nBrother Wind, I will follow your advice, I will no longer bloom for the\nidlers.\u201d\n\nThe Wind caressed the leaves and flowers of the Rose-bush with gentle\nhands, saying earnestly, \u201cPoor little Rose-bush, will you have the\nstrength for that? You will have to suffer a great deal.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied the Rose-bush, \u201cI know it. But I will have the strength.\nOnly you must come every day and sing your song of freedom, so as\nalways to renew my courage.\u201d\n\nThe Wind promised to do this.\n\nThen followed bad days for the Rose-bush, for she had decided not to\ndrink any water, that she might cease blooming. When her friend came\nwith the water pot she drew her little roots close to herself, that no\ndrops might touch them. Ah, how she suffered! she thought she would\nfaint. In the day-time the sun shone, and she became more thirsty every\nhour, always longing more for water. And at last, at evening came the\nlonged for drink, but she dared not sip the full draught, she had to\nturn away from the cool precious liquid, to thirst again. After a while\nshe thought she could not endure it. But the wind came flying, fanning\nher, singing softly and gently, \u201cBe brave, be brave! You will conquer!\u201d\n\nDay after day the Rose-bush gazed at the gleaming white house in which\nlived people who had everything they wanted and then looked at the\nstreet where others passed by with thin, pale faces that were tired and\nsad, and this brought new strength to her heart.\n\nShe became constantly more sick and more weak; her arms hung down\nfeebly, her blossoms dropped their petals, her leaves became wrinkled\nand yellow. The man who tended her watched her sadly and asked. \u201cWhat\nis wrong, my poor Rose-bush?\u201d and he tried every remedy he knew of to\nhelp her. But all in vain. One morning, instead of a handsome, blooming\nRose-bush, he found a miserable, withered, dead bush.\n\nThat could not remain there, the withered branches and flowers spoiled\nthe handsome garden. The gracious lady commanded that the Rose-bush be\nthrown out. As the man dug her up, the Rose-bush gathered her remaining\nstrength and whispered beseechingly, \u201cTake me home! Please, please take\nme home!\u201d\n\nThe man fulfilled her wish. He planted the Rose-bush in a flower pot\nand took her to the poor, small room where he lived. His sick wife sat\nup in bed and said, \u201cAh, the poor Rose-bush, she is as sick as I am,\nbut you will nurse us both back to health.\u201d\n\nThe withered leaves and twigs moaned, \u201cWater! Water!\u201d And the man\nunderstood them and brought in a jar of water. The Rose-bush drank. Oh!\nwhat delight this was! Eagerly her roots sucked up the water, the\ndelicious moisture passing through all her branches gave her new life.\nThe next morning she could lift up her branches; the sick woman was as\nhappy as a child and cried, \u201cShe will get well!\u201d\n\nAnd the Rose-bush really got well. In a short while she again became so\nbeautiful that the poor little room was as fragrant as a garden. The\npale cheeks of the woman became rosier every day, her strength was\nreturning. \u201cThe Rose-bush has made me well,\u201d said she, and all the\nflowers on the Rose-bush glowed deep red with joy when she heard these\nwords.\n\nThe man and his wife were kind people, they gladly shared the little\nthey had, and carefully broke off some roses to bring joy to tired\npeople in other lonely rooms.\n\nThe roses had other magic powers; the Rose-bush, in her days of\nstruggle and suffering, had learned the songs of the Wind. Now her\nflowers sang them very softly for their friends, \u201cKeep together! Fight!\nYou will conquer!\u201d Then the people said, \u201cHow strange! The perfume of\nthe flowers brings us new strength. We will fight together for a better\nworld.\u201d\n\nBut to the little children the roses sang in a tender, loving voice:\n\u201cLittle children, when you are grown up, you will no longer stand sadly\nbefore the gate. The whole world will belong to those who work, the\nwhole world!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPARROW\n\n\nQuarrel and disagreement ruled in the Sparrow family. Mother Sparrow\nsquatted unhappily in her nest all day and Father Sparrow swore and\ngrumbled and found fault with everything. The family that had once been\nso gay and happy was completely changed. And for all this misery the\nyoungest Sparrow was to blame. One evening at supper he had declared,\nbriefly and boldly, \u201cI\u2019m not going to school any more. I\u2019ve had enough\nof being insulted by those aristocrats. Above all, I\u2019m tired of all\nthis life. I want to go out into the world.\u201d He stuck up his bill and\nlooked at his parents defiantly.\n\nMother Sparrow was so shocked that all her feathers stood up. She\nstarted helplessly at her naughty son, and all she could do was to say\nweakly, \u201cPeep, peep.\u201d\n\nBut Father Sparrow opened his mouth so wide in anger that the worm he\nhad meant to eat slid quickly away. He was a person of action, did not\nbelieve in talking much, and proceeded to beat his son in the face with\nhis sharp beak.\n\nThe young Sparrow screamed more defiantly than ever, \u201cI won\u2019t stay here\nany longer. I\u2019ve had enough. I\u2019m going out into the world.\u201d\n\nThen Mother Sparrow found her voice again and said tearfully, \u201cYou\nwicked child! That\u2019s how you thank your parents for their love. Haven\u2019t\nwe brought you up well? You are the first sparrow in our village to\nattend Professor Swallow\u2019s school of architecture and learn to build\nartistic nests. You belong to the best society and mingle with\nSwallows, Starlings and Yellow-bills. And this is how you repay us.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t care a pin about fine society,\u201d replied the excited young\nSparrow. And he whistled defiantly, \u201cTweet, tweet!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo other Sparrow is studying such a respectable profession,\u201d\ndespairingly piped Mother Sparrow.\n\nThen the young Sparrow began to make such a fuss that the whole nest\nshook. \u201cA respectable profession, truly a beautiful profession. To\nbuild nests in which others live. To slave in the heat of the sun,\ncarrying straws from all over, to weave them together, to see that\neverything is just perfect\u2014and then the fine ladies and gentlemen move\nin, and throw me a little worm for my wages, hardly enough for a decent\nmeal. Above all, these fine people. The swallows, always dressed up in\ntheir frock-coats; the Yellow-bills, always showing off their fine\njewelry. And how they treat our own people, full of pride and scorn.\nCommon laborer, they call me. I\u2019ve had enough of it. I\u2019m as good as\nthey are, and maybe better.\u201d\n\nMother Sparrow shrank in horror, but Father Sparrow blew up until he\nnearly burst and shouted, \u201cBe silent, you lost soul, you\nwhipper-snapper. You talk like a Bolshevik. You forget that I am\nchairman of the Council of Jesters. My son must not rebel against law\nand order.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d exclaimed Mother Sparrow, \u201cand suppose the neighbors should hear\nyou! How dreadful!\u201d\n\nThe young Sparrow laughed shamelessly, seated himself on the edge of\nthe nest and whistled a revolutionary song.\n\nFather Sparrow rose hastily and grumbled in an undertone to his wife,\n\u201cSee to that young fool and make him behave. I must go to the meeting\nof the Singing Society.\u201d He flew away without one look at his naughty\nson.\n\nMother Sparrow sighed deeply and asked in a complaining voice, \u201cNow\nwhat is it you really want?\u201d\n\nThe young Sparrow came closer, nestled against his mother, and said\nwith a sweet smile, \u201cI want to go away little mother, far away. To\nforeign lands where it is always summer.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut son of my heart, you know that even the stupid children of men\nlearn in their schools that the Sparrow is not a migratory bird.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that to me? I can\u2019t stand it here any longer. Always seeing\nthe same things; in the distance the old church steeple, here before\nour noses the farm-house, and the dung-hill. No, I want to go away, far\naway.\u201d\n\nAt that he spread out his wings and pushed himself head first out of\nthe nest into space. It seemed very dangerous, but his wings carried\nhim safely through the air.\n\nBut the young Sparrow was by no means as joyous and light-hearted as he\nseemed to be. The words of his parents had aroused all sorts of doubts\nin his mind. \u201cMother was really right,\u201d he said to himself. \u201cThe\nSparrow is not a migratory bird. No one has ever heard of a Sparrow\nthat has flown across the great ocean and gone to foreign lands. But\nwhy shouldn\u2019t I be the first one to do this?\u201d he asked himself, with\ndefiant courage. \u201cSome one must always be the first one. If my venture\nsucceeds, I will have proven to all the Sparrow folk that they need not\nfreeze and starve in the winter-time, but can move to the warm\ncountries and live happily. Certainly, the ocean....\u201d The young\nSparrow\u2019s heart lost courage, he thought of what his teacher, the\nSwallow had once told him about the great, wild water that never seemed\nto end, about the angry frothy waves over which one had to fly daily.\nIf one\u2019s wings lost their strength, one fell down and was lost. One was\nswallowed by the waves.\n\nAt these thoughts the Sparrow almost wanted to give up the idea. He\nshrank together and began shivering. Then suddenly he thought how in\npast hard winters many wretched Sparrows had died of hunger and cold.\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d said he to himself. \u201cI must not be so cowardly. This matter\ndoes not concern only myself, but all my brother Sparrows, all the\nSparrows of future generations, who will live when I have been long\ndead. It will be worth every danger and every sacrifice if I can help\nthem to a happier life.\u201d\n\nAnd the brave young Sparrow decided to leave the next day.\n\nHe spent that night in his parents\u2019 nest, nestled close to his mother,\nwept a little secretly because it was hard for him to leave. Father\nreturned late, and he was quite drunk, threw himself on his bed so that\nit cracked and fell asleep immediately.\n\nThe grey-white sky began to turn rosy, morning came flying on the wings\nof the wind and brought light to the world. The young Sparrow awoke,\nlooked for the last time at his sleeping parents, and flew forth. He\nknew in which direction he must fly, for he remembered the stories of\nthe Swallows. Now he flew exactly that way.\n\nThe sun climbed higher into the heavens, it became hotter and hotter,\nthe poor Sparrow could hardly breathe. His wings were so tired and sore\nthat he could hardly lift them. Still he flew further. He had resolved\nnot to rest until the shadows would fall upon the earth.\n\nNever had he lived through so long a day. Vainly his bright little eyes\nexplored the heavens, but the great golden sphere of the sun shone\nbrightly, would not go down.\n\n\u201cI was a fool,\u201d thought the Sparrow. \u201cNow I might be sitting at home in\nour nest, or be bathing in the puddle by the cherry-tree. Ah, how\npleasant it would be to bathe; at this moment even the ocean would not\nbe too large.\u201d\n\nStill he flew steadily on. But now he flew slowly, every beat of his\nwings caused him dreadful pain. He began to hate the sun, this\nmerciless glowing red sphere that would not go down. To give himself\ncourage, he made up a little song, singing it very softly and moving\nhis tired wings in time to its rhythm.\n\n\n           \u201cMy cause is the cause of my brothers,\n            My strength must save them all;\n            If I fail I do wrong to the others,\n            And their chains will never fall.\u201d\n\n\nAt last, at last, great black shadows fell upon the earth. A refreshing\nbreeze came flying, coolly fanning the weary Sparrow, carrying him\ngently along on its mighty wings.\n\nAs the sun went down behind a blue hill, the tired Sparrow alighted on\na large meadow. He lay panting in the tall grass. The soft chirping of\nthe crickets lulled him to sleep; his eyes closed.\n\nRough, loud voices of men awakened him. Under a knotty old nut tree he\nsaw two ragged, dust-covered men seated. One of them pulled his torn\nboots off, looked woefully at his blistered feet and said, \u201cI can\u2019t run\nany more, I must rest a day.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust another half hour,\u201d the other man said comfortingly. \u201cJust to the\nnext railroad station. There we will hide in a freight car and ride\nuntil morning. Then it will not be far to the sea.\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow had listened carefully to their conversation. \u201cSo people\nget tired, too,\u201d thought he, \u201cand then they ride. I don\u2019t know what\nthat means, but I know that one does not tire oneself that way. If\npeople ride, why shouldn\u2019t Sparrows also ride?\u201d He decided to follow\nthe men, and since they left in a short time he flew after them.\n\nThey arrived at a house in front of which two shining bands were\nstretched on the ground. Now night had really come. All was hidden in\ndarkness, only the stars shone faintly in the sky. The Sparrow stayed\nnear the two men and waited.\n\nSuddenly something dreadful appeared. Through the darkness a gigantic\nblack beast came rattling, its red eyes shining so brightly that one\ncould see them from a great distance, it puffed and panted, the earth\nshook after it. It shrieked frightfully as it came near. Then suddenly\nit stopped. It let out clouds of smoke from its long black nose.\n\nThe Sparrow was astonished that neither of the two men, nor the rest of\nthe people, seemed to be afraid of the monster. On the contrary, they\nran up to it, disappearing in its smoke. Then the Sparrow saw that the\nmonster pulled some black houses behind it. He saw the two men sneak\ninto one of these houses and flew on to the roof of the same house.\nScarcely had he settled himself when the monster again began to puff\nand pant and started on its journey.\n\nThe poor Sparrow thought he would die of fright. The monster rushed\nwith such speed that the little bird could not hear or see. At home he\nhad often flown with the wind for the sport of it and had enjoyed the\nswift motion. But this was altogether different. He made himself very\nsmall, settled himself firmly, and believed his last hour had come. If\nmen called this rest they surely are strange creatures. Perhaps it\nwasn\u2019t so terrible where the people were. He was a clever Sparrow and\nwhen the monster stopped again to take breath, he flew down from the\nroof of the house and examined it. The door was not quite closed. The\nSparrow squeezed through the crack, entered a dark room where many\nboxes were piled. He squatted on one of the chests and waited to see\nwhat would happen.\n\nThe monster began to run again. The Sparrow laughed with joy; now he\nhad guessed right. He sat here quietly, comfortably, and the monster\nhad to slave to carry him further. So this is what people call \u201cto\nride.\u201d Truly, people are not so stupid as he had thought.\n\nThe countless feet of the monster pounded over the earth singing a\nrattling, rumbling, monotonous song. The Sparrow understood the words\nto mean \u201cInto the distance! Into the distance!\u201d For a while he listened\nto the song, then he fell asleep.\n\nHe must have slept a long time. When he awoke the sun was high in the\nsky and its rays came into the dark room through narrow cracks in the\ndoor. The Sparrow saw that his two acquaintances had hidden themselves\nbetween two tall boxes. They seemed to be in good humor, chatting with\none another and laughing.\n\n\u201cWe have traveled a good part of our journey without trouble,\u201d said the\nolder one. \u201cNow we only have to walk another day and ride another\nnight. Then we will reach the ocean.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long will we have to swim?\u201d\n\n\u201cAbout five days.\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow was frightened. Five days he would have to swim over the\nendless waters, five long days he could not rest or cease if he wished\nto save himself from sinking into the waves. How could he endure it? He\nbegan to reflect carefully. Could men swim so long in water? He had\nseen boys bathing in the village pond, yet they would come out of the\nwater in a short time and none of them ever remained in the water all\nday long. But perhaps there were also tame monsters which carried men\nover the water. Again he decided not to leave the two men and to do\neverything they did.\n\nWhen the two men jumped, unnoticed, off the freight train at a railway\nstation, the Sparrow followed them. He flew very close to them. He felt\nthat they were both his friends and so long as he would not leave them\nnothing would happen to him.\n\nAll day long the men journeyed, walking through fields and meadows,\nthrough little villages with queer pointed church steeples. The younger\nof the two men limped, he could only walk slowly. This was very\npleasing to the Sparrow, because he did not have to move fast, he could\nfly comfortably. When the men stopped, the Sparrow followed their\nexample, meantime seeking his food, as the long journey made him\nunusually hungry. He also chatted with a few strange birds, all of whom\nadvised him not to continue his dangerous journey. The migratory birds\nlooked him over scornfully, saying with a sneer, \u201cDo you believe you\ncan do the same as we distinguished people? To travel, to see the\nworld, to spend the winter in warm countries\u2014that is not for common\npeople.\u201d\n\nAn old blackbird minister, black-frocked and solemn, delivered a sermon\nto him from a branch. \u201cWe must obey God\u2019s commandments. God has\nordained that Sparrows must spend the winter in the north.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf God has decreed that all our people shall freeze and starve and\nthat only the aristocrats, the Capitalists, like the Swallows and\nStarlings, shall fly away to the warm places, I don\u2019t want to know\nanything about him!\u201d cried the Sparrow and his feathers bristled up in\nanger.\n\nThe old blackbird minister primped his shining feathers with his bill\nand growled senselessly. But the Sparrow was sad. \u201cHow cruel the birds\nare to one another,\u201d he thought to himself. \u201cI want to do something\nthat will help all and am just laughed at. Can\u2019t anybody understand\nme?\u201d\n\n\u201cHark, hark!\u201d called a soft voice from a great height, and a young Lark\nshot downward as swift as lightning to the side of the sad Sparrow. \u201cI\nunderstand you. Everybody jeers at me too, because I don\u2019t fly close to\nthe earth like they do, but always seek to fly higher and higher, into\nthe blue sky. Do not be downcast, beloved brother, you will reach your\ngoal.\u201d\n\nThe young Lark flew quite close to the Sparrow, looked at him and said,\n\u201cFly a little for me, brother, so I can see how strong your wings are.\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow flew up, hovering over the Lark.\n\nAs he returned she looked at him sadly and said earnestly, \u201cYour wings\ncannot carry you over the great ocean, my poor friend. But you must not\ngive up on account of that, you must do as men do, who cannot fly and\nyet travel all over the world. They have invented a sort of house that\nswims over the water. They call it a ship. You must....\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow did not wait to hear the end. The two men had left during\nthe conversation, and now the Sparrow saw them in the distance looking\nlike two dark spots. Frightened, he cried. \u201cMy two men have left me,\u201d\nand he flew after them as fast as he could.\n\nWhen it grew dark, the men once again sneaked into a freight train. The\nSparrow followed them and slept all night, while the black monster\nagain took him over hills and mountains, past rivers and streams.\n\nAs dawn came, the two men crept out of the train and the Sparrow flew\nafter them. They walked for a little while, then the Sparrow saw an\nimmense body of water lying before him. Endless, extending beyond his\nvision, this blue-gray body of water extended, and on its surface\nstormed wild, white-capped, monstrously high billows.\n\nSo this was the ocean! Never had the Sparrow felt so small and helpless\nas at the sight of this dreadful water. What was he in comparison to\nthis? A poor, helpless little bird, a tiny something. Deep sighs lifted\nhis little breast, from his bright eyes the tears fell. \u201cIf I were only\nat home, in the safe little nest,\u201d cried he to himself. \u201cI could creep\nunder mother\u2019s wings as I did when I was little.\u201d\n\nThe waves roared dismally, threateningly; the white froth squirted\nupwards. The two men walked unconcernedly on the damp, sandy ground.\nWith beating heart the Sparrow followed them. And then he saw something\nsurprising. In a great bay some strange things tossed. They were\nsomething like a house, but had few windows and tall chimneys from\nwhich streamed heavy grey smoke; some things that looked like a forest;\nbare trees without branches seemed to grow in it. Although these trees\nbore neither fruit not leaves, the Sparrow was delighted to see them.\nThey gave him confidence. He began to feel at home. But how strange it\nwas that these houses with trees on them were tossed up and down by the\nwaves. Suddenly the Sparrow remembered the words of the Lark. \u201cMen call\nthese houses that swim on the water \u2018ships\u2019.\u201d So these were ships! On\none of these tossing, swimming houses he would journey to warm lands.\n\nBut which should he choose?\n\nIt occurred to him that at home the largest trees could best withstand\nthe wind. Evidently the same was true of ships, and so he must choose\nthe largest.\n\nHis two friends went to a small ship, and the Sparrow piped, \u201cGood\nluck! Good luck!\u201d but they did not hear him.\n\nThe Sparrow flew on to an immense ship from whose chimneys streamed\ngreat clouds of grey smoke, and hid himself high up at the top of one\nof the leafless trees.\n\nWhat noise and excitement there was below. Countless people ran hither\nand thither, calling and shouting to one another; something rattled,\nsomething clattered, the great chimneys shrieked loudly. A bridge that\nattached the boat to the land flew up into the air, then fell into the\nboat with a bang. The boat started on its journey. Slowly, solemnly it\ncut through the water that bubbled on either side. The large house with\nthe leafless trees, the little bird\u2019s new home, swam away from the\nland.\n\nThe Sparrow\u2019s mind was quite confused with the noise and hurry. And now\nanother great fright came to him. Suddenly a young fellow climbed up\nhis tree. The Sparrow believed that he wanted to capture him, but the\nfellow didn\u2019t seem to notice him and after a little while climbed back.\nAs it grew dark, the boat became quiet and one could only hear the\nnoise of the waves. The Sparrow flew down from his tree and sat down on\nthe roof, where he soon fell asleep.\n\nWhen he awoke in the morning, he thought he would die of fear. The land\nhad disappeared. Wherever he looked he saw only water; great grey waves\nrolled against the ship, shaking it gently as a soft wind shakes the\nnests in the trees. Nowhere a tree, a shrub, a flower. The boat swam\nall alone on the great ocean, that would not end.\n\nThe poor Sparrow felt quite lonesome and deserted. \u201cIf I could just\nfind any bird,\u201d sighed he. \u201cEven if it were a haughty Swallow or a\nstrange Blackbird. At least I could speak with some one who knows my\nworld, who speaks my language.\u201d Finally he lost all his courage and\nbegan to weep bitterly.\n\n\u201cWho are you?\u201d suddenly asked a thin, piping voice, and the Sparrow\nbeheld a little mouse standing before him, who stared at him with large\nround eyes.\n\nThe Sparrow was happy, for he was acquainted with mice at home. He bent\ndown and hopefully answered the questions of the mouse.\n\n\u201cYou are a brave Sparrow,\u201d she said, after she had heard his story. \u201cI\nbid you welcome to my ship.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo your ship?\u201d exclaimed the Sparrow. \u201cI thought that the ship belongs\nto the people.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe people also believe that,\u201d replied the Mouse sharply. \u201cBut don\u2019t\nyou know that people believe that everything belongs to them?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true. The farmer at home believed that the church-steeple was\nhis, and yet it is quite clear that the church-steeple was made for us\nSparrows.\u201d\n\nWhile they were speaking thus, a very old mouse came over and began to\nspeak. \u201cNot all people believe that everything belongs to them,\u201d said\nshe learnedly. \u201cThere are also people who do not possess anything. You\ncan observe that on the ship. Above live people in large, beautiful\nrooms, and eat all day long. My mouth waters when I smell the rich\nfoods that are set before them.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut down below the people are crowded together, so that they can\nhardly find place to lie down at night, and many have only dry bread\nalong with them to eat on the whole journey. This stupid phrase \u2018my\nboat\u2019 you have also learned from men,\u201d she said scolding the mouse.\n\u201cYou know that the common things are ours. Don\u2019t let me hear false\nwords from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse me, grandmother,\u201d begged the young Mouse.\n\n\u201cYou are a stranger here,\u201d said the Grandmother Mouse to the Sparrow.\n\u201cWe will be helpful to you, so that you can endure the long journey. I\nadvise you not to fly to the rich people, they will play with you a day\nor two, and then forget you. Indeed, it is only among the poor people,\non the lower deck, that you will find a few breadcrumbs, and these\npeople will be good to you because they know how a poor, unfortunate\ncreature feels.\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow followed the advice of the wise Grandmother Mouse and soon\nrealized that she had spoken truthfully. The children were delighted\nwith him, and they spared him breadcrumbs from the few that were\nprovided for their own little mouths. And because they were children,\nthey understood the language of the Sparrow, and chatted with him. In\nthis way the Sparrow heard many sad stories. The children told of\npoverty and distress, how hard parents had to work and how often there\nwas nothing to eat at home. The honest Sparrow felt very sad to hear\nthis. \u201cThere must also be a beautiful land for men, where conditions\nare good and they do not have to hunger and freeze,\u201d said he to his\nlittle friend.\n\n\u201cPerhaps,\u201d said a pale little girl. \u201cBut we have not yet found the road\nto it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I am big,\u201d declared a little boy dressed in black, \u201cthen I will\ngo out to search for that land. When I find it I will lead all the poor\npeople to it.\u201d\n\nThe two mice also visited the Sparrow often, they always came towards\nevening, when all was quiet.\n\nSo passed a long time, and one day the Sparrow saw land in the\ndistance, saw houses and trees and knew that now his goal was reached.\n\nThe grey ocean had become quite blue and gleamed in the sunshine. It\nwas very hot, and Grandmother Mouse said that in this land there was no\nwinter.\n\nWhen the ship landed, the Sparrow flew after his friends for a while\nand then contemplated his new home.\n\nAll the people had brown faces and wore strange clothes. The faces of\nthe women were covered so that one could only see their large black\neyes. He also saw queer animals that walked on four legs and had great\nhumps on their backs. Even the trees were different than those at home,\nthere were some with long pointed leaves and brown fruit that the\nSparrow relished. There was plenty to eat; here no Sparrow had to\nsuffer hunger, and there was no snow or cold.\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t this also the right country for the poor people?\u201d the Sparrow\nasked himself. But then he saw that in this sunny land there were also\nrich and poor, that some were richly dressed and others wore rags, that\nsome lazy ones rode in handsome carriages and some dragged heavy\nburdens. And he thought, \u201cIt is much easier to find a Sparrow paradise\nthan a land in which people may enjoy happiness.\u201d This pained him,\nbecause on his journey he had learned to love the poor people. \u201cBut how\nstrange this is. People can tame wild animals to carry them through all\nlands, they know how to build houses that swim on the water and yet\nthey are so poor and destitute and let a few evil wretches take\neverything for themselves.\u201d\n\nNow that he had reached the warm country, the Sparrow rested from his\nlong and wearisome journey, flew about lazily, and spent each night in\na different tree.\n\nOne day he came to a beautiful green stream and flew along its course.\nHe came to a great, large plain. At first he thought he had reached the\nocean again, but as far as he could see lay fine yellow sand. In the\ndistance he saw something rising out of the sand which looked like a\nmonstrous animal. He flew closer to it and saw that it really was a\ngigantic creature with the head of a human being and two large paws. It\nwas made of grey-brown stone and was partly covered with sand.\n\nThe ugly animal lay quite still and grinned angrily. The Sparrow\ncurtseyed carefully: would the beast wish to eat him? But no, it\ngraciously acknowledged his greeting and said: \u201cI have been lying here\nthousands of years, yet I have never seen a bird like you. Who are you?\nWhat are you doing here?\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow related his story and the great beast listened patiently.\nThen the little bird inquired, \u201cWill you tell me who you are? We have\nno animals like you at home.\u201d\n\nThe great beast laughed and replied, \u201cPeople call me the Sphinx. I am\nso old that I have lost count of my years; have seen everything, know\neverything.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn my country the Owls say that, too,\u201d was the Sparrow\u2019s pert remark.\n\nThe Sphinx looked at him angrily. \u201cThe Owl is a conceited boaster!\u201d he\ncried excitedly.\n\n\u201cExcuse me!\u201d stammered the Sparrow, frightened. \u201cI did not wish to\ninsult you. You look much older than the Owl.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I am. I count my years by the thousands.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow much you must have seen!\u201d cried the Sparrow.\n\nThe Sphinx opened her gigantic mouth and yawned so hugely that the sand\nflew about her as though a whirlwind had hit it.\n\n\u201cSince the year 1000,\u201d said she. \u201cI always see the same; I see people\nwho have riches and joy, forcing their starving slaves to drudge. At\nfirst the slaves were driven with whips which the overseer used to beat\nthem with when they became tired from the heat of the sun. Often these\nslaves were kept at work with chains on their feet so that they should\nnot run away. Later the whips disappeared, the masters bragged of their\nkindness, saying, \u2018In these progressive times, no man is a slave.\u2019 But\nsecretly they concealed a dreadful whip, Hunger, and this drove the\npeople to slavery as surely as the whip they had used previously. I see\npeople pass here, rich strangers who visit this country out of\ncuriosity, and see the poor Arabs, who work as muleteers and drag heavy\nstones, and are barely kept alive with a few dates and a little corn,\njust like their ancestors thousands of years ago.\u201d\n\nThe Sphinx became silent, gazing gloomily at the desert. Then she spoke\nagain, \u201cFor thousands of years there were gorgeously dressed, jeweled\npriests here, who belonged in the same class as the rich people. They\npreached to the people, threatening them with the anger of the gods if\nthey became dissatisfied with their fate. Today these priests are\ndressed in black, but they also lie and stand by the rich ones, they\nalso worship a God who was a bad mechanic. It has always been the same,\nfor thousands of years.\u201d And again the Sphinx yawned.\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you also see into the future, wise Beast?\u201d bashfully questioned\nthe Sparrow.\n\n\u201cYes, I can also see that. Listen to my words, little bird. A day will\ncome when all slaves will arise in a dreadful struggle against their\noppressors. After long bloody battles they will conquer and then there\nwill be a new world, where everything belongs to all the people and all\npeople are free. Even today the earth trembles in happy expectation,\nand in the quiet night I feel its trembling. For thousands of years I\nhave not spoken to any being, I will only speak again when the day of\nfreedom dawns. Then my voice will join in the jubilations of the freed\npeople.\u201d\n\nThe Sparrow flew out of the desert where he could find nothing to eat,\nback to the green stream, and enjoyed many pleasant days there.\n\nOne day he was sitting on a stone on the bank of the stream, when he\nheard familiar voices, \u201cTweet! Tweet!\u201d\n\nHe looked up and saw three Swallows who flew slowly toward him.\n\n\u201cAre you here already?\u201d the Sparrow asked in surprise.\n\n\u201cCertainly, certainly,\u201d twittered the Swallows. \u201cAt home rough winds\nare blowing, the frost is in the meadows at night, winter is coming.\u201d\n\nHow frightened the Sparrow was at that. Here in this beautiful land\nwhere he had plenty of fat worms and warm sunshine, he had forgotten\nabout his Sparrow brothers. And in the meantime the deadly winter had\ncome! He must rush home to teach them how to reach the sunny land.\nWould he reach there in time? How selfish he had been; if Sparrows were\nfreezing and starving at home, it was his fault.\n\nEven while he was thinking this he spread out his little wings and flew\ntoward the ocean.\n\nIn the harbor many silvery-white Seagulls flew about, crying with\nshrill voices, \u201cA storm is coming! A storm is coming!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich ship is going north?\u201d he asked hastily.\n\n\u201cNone,\u201d answered a Seagull; but this was not true, they were\ndisagreeable birds and wanted to frighten the Sparrow.\n\nBut he believed them. \u201cThen I must fly over the ocean,\u201d thought he,\nfearfully. \u201cI must do it, for on me depends the life or death of my\nSparrow brothers. I must make good.\u201d\n\nSadly he looked back once more on the wonderland; then flew out on the\ngreat waters.\n\nWild waves dashed up, the storm howled and rain fell. In a few hours,\nthe Sparrow was so tired that he could no longer fly high. The billows\nmade his feathers wet, they were heavy with the water and drew him\ndeeper and deeper down. A monstrous wave reached out for him with white\narms and the Sparrow fell into the ocean and was swallowed by the\nwaves.\n\nFor that reason the Sparrows must still freeze and starve every winter,\nfor there has not been another courageous Sparrow to show them the way\nto the sunny country.\n\nBut had the Sparrow suffered so much and died in vain?\n\nNo, the little black-haired boy on the ship had paid special attention\nto the story which the Sparrow had told him and had listened to what\nthe Sparrow wanted to do for his Sparrow brothers, and this the little\nboy wanted to do for his fellow-humans. He grew up, and wherever\noppressed workers struggled against their oppressors, he was the\nleader. But the story of the black-haired boy, of his life and his\ndeath, is another tale and does not belong here.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE GREY DOG\n\n\nHe was an ugly grey dog with long silken-soft ears and a bushy tail. He\nwas born in a splendid stable that belonged to a rich man. This rich\nman lived on a large estate in which were fields and meadows. And in\nthese fields grew sugarcane, in great quantities, great, round, smooth\ncanes that contained the sweet sugar. On the sugar plantations worked\nhundreds of Negroes, men and women, and the Negroes belonged to the\nrich man who had bought them in the market as he would buy cattle, for\nthis story happened long ago, in those days when slavery existed in\nAmerica. The rich man could do anything he wished with his slaves. If\nhe was in a bad mood he would permit them to be whipped; if they dared\nto protest against this cruel treatment they were more cruelly\npunished\u2014they were stripped naked, smeared with honey, and tied to a\ntree. The smell of the honey attracted the bees that came in large\nswarms, settled on the body of the slave, sucked the honey and stung\nthe bound man till he collapsed with pain. Also, the master could sell\nhis slave, did this frequently, without the least consideration,\ntearing mother from child, separating man and wife, sister and brother.\nThe poor Negroes were completely helpless, they had to work all day\nlong in the hot sun, received very poor food, lived in wretched huts,\nseparated from the house of the rich man by a mighty river. Here lived\nthe Negroes, crowded together; the children played about in front of\nthese huts, played happily, because they did not yet know that they\nwere slaves and that a hard, difficult life awaited them.\n\nIn one of the Negro huts arrived the little grey dog who had been born\nin the splendid stable, and this is how it happened.\n\nOnce when the rich man walked through the stable, he noticed the little\ngrey dog who was playing in the straw. He examined the little dog, and\nsaid angrily to the coachman, \u201cWhat is this ugly little creature doing\nhere in my beautiful stable? Take it out, drown it in the river.\u201d\n\nThe coachman promised to do this; indeed he pitied the lively little\nanimal, but the master was strict and he did not dare to disobey the\ncommand. He called the little dog, who came running joyously, and\nstarted toward the river. As he came near the homes of the slaves, a\nlittle black boy ran out of one of the huts and cried, \u201cO, the lovely\nlittle animal! Where are you taking it?\u201d And he ran quite close to them\nand patted the dog, who mischievously jumped at him, barking.\n\n\u201cI must drown the dog,\u201d answered the coachman.\n\nAt that the eyes of the little boy filled with tears, he took the dog\nin his arms, held him close, and begged, \u201cDon\u2019t do it, just see how\ndarling he is!\u201d\n\n\u201cI must do it, Benjamin. The master has commanded me. If I don\u2019t obey\nhim he will punish me severely.\u201d\n\nThe little grey dog licked Benjamin\u2019s face, looked at him with his\nlarge eyes that seemed to implore him, \u201cSave me, save me!\u201d\n\n\u201cGive me the dog,\u201d pleaded Benjamin. \u201cI will hide him well so that the\nmaster will not see him.\u201d\n\nThe coachman thought for a moment, then replied, \u201cGood, you may hide\nhim. But,\u201d he said warningly, \u201cyou must not betray the fact that I have\ngiven him to you. If the master should ever see him, you must say that\nyou saved him from the river. Then he will give you a bad beating....\u201d\n\n\u201cThat doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d cried Benjamin eagerly. \u201cAs long as the little\ndog is allowed to live.\u201d\n\nThe coachman laughed, removed the string from the neck of the dog, and\nBenjamin ran to the hut with him, patting him, kissing him, full of\njoy. At evening when Benjamin\u2019s parents came home, he showed them the\ndog, and the parents also were happy because they had to be away from\nhome all day and always feared that the little boy might go to the\nriver, fall in and be drowned. But now he would stay near the huts with\nhis playfellow, so that he might hide himself quickly in case the rich\nman might pass by.\n\nIt was as though the little grey dog knew that Benjamin had saved his\nlife. He did not leave the side of the little boy, obeyed him, and\nshowed himself to be quite intelligent. Benjamin spoke to him like to a\nperson, and the dog looked at him as wisely as though he understood\nevery word.\n\nBenjamin\u2019s parents were young and strong, the best workers on the sugar\nplantation. Therefore the severe overseer was satisfied with them and\nbeat them less often than he did the other slaves. On that account they\nwere both, in spite of their hard life, satisfied, and in the evenings\nwhen they returned to their hut and their little Benjamin, all three of\nthem were gay and happy.\n\nBenjamin\u2019s mother Hannah was also an excellent seamstress, she knew how\nto weave pretty baskets from reeds and rushes, and was a very good\ncook.\n\nOne day the eldest daughter of the rich man, who lived with her husband\nin the north, come to visit her father. She was glad to see her old\nhome again and everything seemed to her more beautiful than in the\nnorth. She complained of the trouble she had in getting servants in the\ncity. \u201cThese whites are not nearly as desirable as the blacks,\u201d said\nshe. \u201cThey cannot be driven to work with whips. You should present me\nwith a good slave, father, so that it will be more comfortable for me.\nMy husband will be quite angry about it, for the people in the north\nare crazy, they claim that the blacks are also human beings, and that\nslavery must be abolished. But he loves me dearly, and will be glad if\nhe sees me happy.\u201d\n\nThe rich man thought a while and said, \u201cThe young slaves that I own are\nall clumsy, incapable; the old ones of course could not become\naccustomed to living in a large city and would be more trouble than\nhelp to you. Whom can I give you?\u201d\n\nHe considered for a moment, then cried happily, \u201cNow I know, Hannah is\njust the right one for you. How could I forget her? Of course, she has\na little boy....\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t want him,\u201d the daughter interrupted. \u201cMy dear little son must\nnot play with a dirty Negro child. You can keep Hannah\u2019s son here.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a good mother, my beloved child,\u201d said the rich man, moved.\n\u201cYou always think of your son. Good, Benjamin shall remain here and\nwhen you go back to the city tomorrow, I will give you Hannah to take\nalong. I will immediately tell the overseer, so that he may tell her to\nbe ready.\u201d\n\nAnd the rich man called a servant and bade him bring the overseer.\n\nAh, what a sad night that was in the little hut of the Negroes. Poor\nHannah hugged her little son close in her arms and cried as though her\nheart would break. Her husband Tom gazed at her with worried eyes and\nwas so miserable that he could not say a word. Hannah kept looking\nanxiously toward the little window, trembling with the fear of seeing\nthe first ray of light that meant that day was near, when she would\nleave her loved ones.\n\nThe little grey dog seemed to understand the grief of his friends, he\nnestled quite close to Hannah\u2019s coat, looking up at them with loving,\nclever eyes. Then Hannah cried loudly, \u201cIf they sell you, too, Tom,\nwhat will become of our poor child?\u201d The little dog laid his paw on\nlittle Benjamin as though to say, \u201cDon\u2019t fear, poor mother, I will take\ncare of him.\u201d\n\nHannah noticed this, sobbingly patted the shaggy head of the dog, and\nsaid to him, \u201cGuard my little boy, you good dog. We are all as helpless\nand deserted as you.\u201d\n\nThe following morning, poor Hannah, weeping bitterly, rode off with the\nyoung woman. Her family was not allowed to see her off, for Tom had to\nwork in the field and Benjamin, like all the slaves, was forbidden to\ncome near the house of the rich man.\n\nLittle Benjamin lived through many sad days. His father was so unhappy\nthat he no longer wanted to work, and many evenings he would return\nhome with his back all bloody. Instead of the caressing and joy to\nwhich Benjamin was accustomed there was an unaccustomed silence in the\nhouse. Tom sat sadly on the ground, sometimes stroking sadly the wooly\nhead of his little son, but never speaking. Only once in a while he\nwould cry out, \u201cHannah!\u201d and sigh deeply, while great tears rolled down\nhis black face. And sometimes he would clench his fist, looking so\nangry that Benjamin took the little dog and crawled into a corner with\nhim.\n\nThe overseer was always unsatisfied with Tom, he complained to the\nmaster of the laziness and obstinacy of the slave. Had poor Tom known\nthe results of his disobedience, he would have worked as industriously\nas he used to, in spite of his anger and unhappiness.\n\nThe rich man celebrated his birthday. There was a great feast, chickens\nand calves and lambs were roasted, rich foods could be smelled all\nthrough the house, the servants brought countless bottles from the\nwine-cellar. After supper the young guests danced in the large hall,\nthe older men seated themselves at a table and began to play cards.\n\nThe rich man had no luck, he lost again and again, until at last his\npurse was empty. \u201cOne more game,\u201d said he to his friend who had won all\nthe money, \u201cWe will gamble for my strongest and best slave.\u201d And he\nthought to himself, \u201cIf I lose Tom, that will not be a misfortune, for\nlately he is lazy and obstinate, anyhow.\u201d\n\nHis friend agreed. The whole life and fate of a human being depended\nupon a few cards, a bundle of paper. The rich man drew a card, his\nfriend did the same. They threw the cards on the table. The rich man\nhad lost.\n\nWhen Tom came to work the following morning, the overseer told him to\ngo to the house of the rich man, the master had sold him and his new\nmaster would take him to his estate at once.\n\nThat evening Benjamin waited in vain for the return of his father.\nNight came, it was quite dark, and his father did not come. Benjamin\nsat huddled on the threshold, peering anxiously into the darkness. The\nlittle grey dog lay near him. He was sad and quiet, he seemed to feel\nthat something was wrong. At last Benjamin could stand it no longer,\nran crying to the hut of a neighbor, and asked about his father. The\nstout negress informed him that a strange master had taken Tom with him\nthat morning; he was sold and would not return.\n\nBenjamin went home crying, afraid of the dark, holding the little dog,\nhis only friend, tight in his arms. And now something strange happened.\nWhen Benjamin, sobbing, started to tell the little dog of this sorrow,\nthe dog began to bark softly. But it was not an ordinary bark, but\nspeech, and Benjamin understood very well the words, \u201cDon\u2019t cry, little\nfriend, I will take care of you and guard you. And some day we will go\nto search for your parents.\u201d\n\nBenjamin was so astonished at this, that he stopped crying. \u201cWhat!\u201d\ncried he, surprised, \u201cyou can speak, like a human being?\u201d\n\nThe dog shook his shaggy head. \u201cYes, when the rich people act like wild\nbeasts against the poor people, we animals must help them. When a human\nbeing is very unhappy and forsaken, he understands our language and\nknows that we wish him well. I have not forgotten, little Benjamin,\nthat you saved my life. I want to thank you. Lie down on the straw,\nsleep, I will watch over you.\u201d\n\nA little comforted, the little boy obeyed, and the dog sat down near\nhim, guarding him all night, licking Benjamin\u2019s hand with his warm\ntongue occasionally.\n\nThen came hard times for little Benjamin. The stout lady who was his\nneighbor took him to her hut, but she was not good to him. She forced\nhim to carry water from the river in a heavy bucket, and made him do\nall kinds of hard work. And the worst was yet to come. One day the rich\nman passed by the huts of the Negroes and saw Benjamin. \u201cA strong boy,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cHe can work in the fields already.\u201d And from then on the\nlittle boy had to work in the fields in the heat of the sun till he\nthought he would die of weariness.\n\nAt evening, tired, he would crawl into the hut, bury his head in the\nhide of the grey dog, cry, and draw comfort from his only friend.\n\nOne evening, his back all bloody and his face swollen, Benjamin came\nhome. The overseer had been in a bad temper, had beaten the little boy\nwith a whip and hit him in the face with his fist.\n\n\u201cI want to die,\u201d cried Benjamin, while the dog softly and gently licked\nhis wounds. \u201cI can\u2019t stand it any longer. My parents are gone, I am\nentirely deserted, everyone is unkind to me. Dog, dear dog, what shall\nI do?\u201d\n\n\u201cRun away,\u201d replied the dog.\n\n\u201cWhere to? They will catch me and beat me again.\u201d\n\nThe dog thought hard for a while.\n\n\u201cWe must go north,\u201d said he at last. \u201cThere people are better than they\nare here. They do not want the Negroes to be slaves. We must run away\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know the way,\u201d complained Benjamin.\n\n\u201cI will lead you. Morning and night, when everybody is asleep, we will\ngo.\u201d\n\nAnd so it happened. The moon was a small white sickle in the sky, the\ngreat trees tossed weird, black shadows on the earth, all was deathly\nquiet, only once in a while the leaves rustled sleepily. Benjamin and\nthe dog ran softly on their tiptoes, out of the hut, and went toward\nthe great river. All night they wandered along the side of the river,\nand when morning came the dog looked for a safe hiding place, for the\nshort legs of little Benjamin had not carried him very far, and there\nwas still the danger that the servants of the rich man might trace him.\n\nWhile the dog was running restlessly back and forth to find a safe\nplace, Benjamin sat on the bank of the river, letting his tired,\nburning feet hang in the water. Suddenly he was dreadfully frightened\nand drew his feet back hastily. A large pointed head thrust itself\nthrough the water, a gigantic mouth opened, showing two rows of\ndreadful teeth, and a deep voice growled, \u201cA fine morsel, just right\nfor breakfast.\u201d\n\nBenjamin screamed aloud and the dog came running quickly to him. Though\nhe was himself a little frightened, he whispered to Benjamin, \u201cThat is\nan alligator. Step back and let me speak to him.\u201d\n\nThe little boy obeyed and the dog addressed himself with cajoling\ncourtesy to the alligator, saying, \u201cExcuse us for having come to your\nkingdom, mighty lord of the river, but we are fleeing from evil people\nand know that you with your power will be good enough to defend us.\u201d\n\nThe alligator felt flattered, drew his gigantic mouth into a friendly\ngrin, and replied politely, \u201cYou are a clever animal. I am truly more\nmighty than people, and,\u201d he agreed pensively, \u201cneither are we as bad\nas they. But this creature that sat with his feet hanging in the water\nis also a human being. Then why is he running away from his brothers?\u201d\nAnd the shiny, greenish eyes of the alligator looked distrustfully at\nthe dog.\n\n\u201cYou surely know, wise and mighty animal, that the rich people are\nmerciless to the poor, as though they were the wildest beasts. That is\nbecause there is no more greedy animal than this man. He is never\nsatisfied, he always wants more: food and drink and houses, but above\nall, gold. That makes him so mean. My little friend is a poor child who\nmust work for a rich man. He was torn away from his parents, and beaten\nuntil the blood flowed. I advised him to run away. And now we beg that\nyou help us, for any moment the servants of the rich man may appear and\ncapture my little friend.\u201d\n\nThe alligator shook his pointed head thoughtfully and said: \u201cPeople are\npeculiar creatures. No alligator would torment a little alligator,\nneither do we know the difference between rich and poor, and still it\nis said that we are evil animals. It is true that I would like to eat\nyour little friend for breakfast, yet I will be merciful to him. I will\nalso show you a safe hiding place. Do you see that little island? The\nservants of the rich man will not find you there.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe thank you, mighty animal; but how can we reach the island? The\nwater is rough and deep, and my little friend can\u2019t swim.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will carry you over on my back,\u201d answered the alligator.\n\nBenjamin and the dog seated themselves on the scaly back of the animal,\nand it began to swim. What a strange journey that was! The waves played\nover the back of the alligator and the dog was afraid that the\nalligator might change his mind and eat both of them for breakfast. For\nthat reason he spoke continuously to the alligator, flattered him,\npraised his goodness and declared solemnly that the alligators are the\nnoblest animals in the world. This trick did not fail in its purpose.\nWhen they landed on the island, the alligator called twelve of the\nstrongest alligators to him, instructing them that they must not harm a\nhair on the boy or the dog, that they were his guests. He also\ncommanded them to swim along the bank of the river  and stand guard,\nkeeping the people from coming to the island. This was well done, for\nwhen the sun was high in the heavens, five men appeared, sent by the\nrich man to look for Benjamin. One pointed to the island, started to go\ninto the water, when an immense alligator pushed his head out of the\nwater and the man crept back. \u201cHe can\u2019t be there,\u201d said the man to his\ncompanions. \u201cThe alligators here must have eaten him.\u201d\n\nBenjamin and the dog rested all day on the island. The little boy ate\nthe sweet berries that grew there, drank from a well, and at evening\nthe alligator carried them back again to the bank and bade them a\nfriendly farewell.\n\nToday traveling was more difficult than it had been yesterday, for\nBenjamin\u2019s feet were blistered, he groaned and complained at every\nstep. The dog comforted him, encouraged him, let him ride on his back a\nlittle while though the boy was too heavy and after a few minutes the\ndog\u2019s bones would crack and he would have to lie down. Deep sorrow\ntormented the dog, surely the servants of the rich man were somewhere\nin the neighborhood, determined not to return home without the boy. And\neven if they were not found, how far was it to the north? How will we\nget there if Benjamin is already too tired to go further?\n\nToward midnight they suddenly saw a fire burning on a meadow. People\nmust be there. The dog dragged the boy into some thick bushes, told him\nto keep still, crept softly toward the fire. A pot hung over the fire,\nand a blond man sat before it. Close by stood a wagon with large\nwheels, to which a brown horse was harnessed. The dog looked at the man\nvery searchingly. He looked different from the people at home, had a\nvery light skin, kind blue eyes; surely he was a northerner. But was he\na good man? Then the dog remembered that only very good people\nunderstand the language of animals, and the dog decided to tell him the\nstory of little Benjamin. Carefully he came closer to the fire and said\nsoftly, \u201cGood evening, man. Are you a northerner?\u201d\n\nThe man looked at him in surprise, but, oh joy, he had understood the\nwords and answered, \u201cGood evening, my friend. Yes, I am a northerner.\nDo you want to eat something? My supper will soon be ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not hungry,\u201d replied the dog. \u201cBut I want some help.\u201d And then he\ntold the story of little Benjamin.\n\nThe blond man became red with anger and his eyes sparkled. This made\nthe dog happy. \u201cHe is really a good man,\u201d thought he, \u201cfor only good\npeople are angered by the sufferings of other people.\u201d When he was\nthrough speaking, the man said, \u201cBring your little friend here quickly.\nMy horse has rested enough. We will ride off immediately so that no one\ncan capture Benjamin.\u201d\n\nHow happy the little grey dog was! In spite of his weariness, he danced\nwith joy, wagging his tail, and started toward the bushes where\nBenjamin was hidden. Then he saw something dreadful. A man came over\nthe meadow with a dog, which ran straight towards the bushes. The grey\ndog howled with fright. The blond man looked up, jumped forward and\ncalled to the dog, \u201cKeep the man back just a moment, and all will yet\nbe well.\u201d At that the dog ran toward the man. The man had reached the\nbush, with one bound the dog leaped at his throat, bit it hard, did not\nloosen his hold in spite of cuts and blows.\n\nIn the meantime the northerner had taken little Benjamin in his arms,\nran hastily toward the wagon, jumped in, and called to the dog, \u201cFollow\nus, we will wait for you in a safe place.\u201d Then he cracked his whip,\nstarted on the road, the brown horse galloped ahead for it knew\neverything that was going on.\n\nThe grey dog still gripped the man\u2019s throat, thinking every moment that\nif he could detain the man, it would be an advantage to the good man\nand little boy, and would save his friend. But the man, tired of\nwrestling, took a large knife from his pocket and plunged it deep into\nthe breast of the faithful dog. The dog whimpered piteously and fell\nheavily to the ground. His clouded eyes still saw, far off in the\ndistance, a tiny spot that kept growing smaller and smaller; that was\nthe wagon which was carrying little Benjamin to freedom.\n\nGreat joy filled the dog\u2019s heart. He wagged his bushy tail once more.\nThen he died.\n\nThe blond man and little Benjamin waited a long time in vain for the\ngrey dog. Benjamin wept bitterly, and his new friend comforted him:\n\u201cThe brave dog will come running back. All is well with him.\u201d\n\nBut though Benjamin was safe, he was always sad when he thought of his\nfriend. But he did not know that the little grey dog had died for him,\npaying his debt of gratitude to Benjamin with his life.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWHY?\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was a little boy, who had neither father nor\nmother, who lived in the poorhouse in a little village. He was the only\nchild in the whole house; all the others were broken-down old people\nwho were always gloomy and cranky, who liked best to sit quietly in the\nsun, and who would become angry whenever the little boy, while at play,\nwould bump against them or make too much noise.\n\nA sad life it was for little Paul. He never heard a kind word, no one\nloved him, and no one petted or comforted him whenever he was unhappy.\nInstead of that he was scolded every day and often he was even spanked.\nOne peculiarity of his particularly irritated the supervisors of the\npoorhouse: at every occasion he used to ask, \u201cWhy?\u201d always wanting to\nknow the cause for everything.\n\n\u201cYou mustn\u2019t always ask why,\u201d angrily declared the stout Matron who was\nin charge of the poorhouse. \u201cEverything is as it is, and therefore it\nis right.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why have I no parents like the other children of the village\nhave?\u201d insisted little Paul.\n\n\u201cBecause they are dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did they die?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause the good Lord willed it so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did the Lord will it so?\u201d\n\n\u201cKeep quiet, you good-for-nothing! Leave me alone with your eternal\nquestions.\u201d The fat woman was quite red with anger, because she knew no\nanswer to Paul\u2019s questions, and nothing angers ignorant persons more\nthan to be forced to say, \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\nBut no one was able to keep little Paul quiet. He looked right up into\nthe angry red face and asked further, \u201cWhy are you so impatient with\nme?\u201d\n\nSlap! and he got a box on the ears. He began to cry, ran away, and\nwhile running asked, \u201cWhy do you hit me?\u201d\n\nHe came to the chicken yard. There stood a big hen with many-colored\nfeathers, cackling aloud, proudly strutting. \u201cI have laid an egg! I\nhave laid an egg!\u201d And from all sides of the yard there sounded in\nchorus: \u201cI have laid an egg! I have laid an egg!\u201d The rooster, however,\nwas angry because the hens were so proud of having done something which\nhe could not do, and cried scornfully, \u201cI am the rooster, you are only\nhens!\u201d Along came Mary, the little blond servant of the poorhouse,\ngathered the eggs carefully into her blue apron, and carried them into\nthe house.\n\n\u201cWhere do all your eggs go to?\u201d Paul asked the speckled Hen.\n\n\u201cTo the city,\u201d she cackled.\n\n\u201cWho eats them there?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe rich people, the rich people.\u201d Thus spoke the hen proudly, as\nthough it were a special honor for her.\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t I ever have an egg?\u201d complained Paul. \u201cI am always so\nhungry, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause you are a poor Have-nothing.\u201d And the hen spread her plumage\nwith dignity, and cocked her eye defiantly at Paul over her crooked\nbeak.\n\n\u201cBut why am I a poor Have-nothing?\u201d\n\nNow the hen became angry as had the stout Matron, and raged: \u201cGet off\nwith you! You make me tired with your questions.\u201d\n\nDisappointed, Paul slipped quietly away. The garden door stood open,\nand he stepped out onto the road, strolling along aimlessly until he\ncame to the entrance of a cowshed. The shed belonged to a rich farmer.\n\nMany sleek cows, white and reddish brown, stood in a row and gazed\nbefore them with large, soft eyes. Paul, feeling very hungry, stepped\nup to the most friendly looking cow, and begged, \u201cDear Cow, will you\ngive me some of your milk to drink?\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare not do that,\u201d replied the Cow. \u201cThe milk belongs to the\nfarmer.\u201d\n\nThe little boy looked with astonishment at the Cow, then over the\nentire shed, slowly counting the animals: \u201cOne, two, three.\u201d Upon\nreaching twelve he stopped, for although there were many more cows, he\nstopped because the counting was too hard for him. In the poorhouse he\nwas taught to be gentle and obedient, but nothing else. \u201cTwelve cows,\u201d\nhe said thoughtfully. \u201cIs it possible that the farmer can drink the\nmilk of twelve cows?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no,\u201d the friendly Cow informed him. \u201cHe sells the milk in the\ncity.\u201d\n\nPaul remembered the words of the speckled hen, and he asked, \u201cDo the\npoor children there get any of the milk?\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious, Paul,\u201d sighed the Cow, \u201chow stupid and inexperienced\nyou still are! From the milk they make delicious whipped cream, which\nthen goes on cakes and puddings, and these are bought by rich people.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not by the poor\u2014don\u2019t they like to eat good cakes?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t ask me so many questions, little boy,\u201d replied the Cow.\n\u201cI am only a dumb Cow, and do not know what to answer you. Besides, you\nhad better go away. This is the time when the farmer comes to the barn,\nand should he see you it might mean a good beating for you.\u201d\n\nPaul stroked the shining hide of the friendly Cow, and pursued his way.\nOn and on he went, until he reached a great big wheat field through\nwhich the wind was blowing. It looked like softly moving golden waves.\nThe ears sang with soft voices, sounding very sad, and Paul\ndistinguished the words: \u201cSoon the reapers will be here with their\nscythes, z-z, and will cut us down, z-z-z. Then the people will bake us\ninto fine white bread, z-z-z.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho eats the white bread?\u201d asked Paul, who had never in his life\ntasted a piece of white bread.\n\n\u201cThe rich people, the rich people,\u201d sang the ears of wheat, swaying to\nthe rhythm of the wind.\n\n\u201cAh, again the rich people!\u201d exclaimed Paul. \u201cDoes everything in this\nworld belong to the rich people?\u201d\n\n\u201cEverything, everything,\u201d buzzed the ears.\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\nThis question seemed to amuse the ears very much and almost doubling\nwith laughter, they sang, \u201cHow silly, how stupid you are!\u201d However,\nthey failed to answer Paul\u2019s question. Paul was near to tears; he\nstamped angrily on the ground with his foot, and cried loudly, \u201cI\ndemand an answer to my questions. Is there no one to give me an\nanswer?\u201d\n\nJust then a Porcupine crept slowly across the road and said, \u201cThe\nwisest creature I know of is the Owl who lives in the great oak forest.\nWhy don\u2019t you go to her, you question mark.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t you tell me why...?\u201d\n\nThe Porcupine did not permit Paul to finish; impatiently he drew in his\nhead, shot out his quills, until he looked like a ball covered with\nspikes.\n\n\u201cI do not associate with people,\u201d he said, and his voice became as\nsharp as his quills. \u201cThey are too stupid for me. Go to the Owl, but be\nsure not to irritate her or she will gouge her eyes at you.\u201d\n\nNight fell, sending out its black shadows, and covered all the land. It\nwas dark in the forest and Paul became somewhat uneasy, yet this\nmysterious forest seemed more pleasant to him than the terrible\npoorhouse, and he walked on further.\n\nThe further he went the thicker and closer were the trees. Soon there\nwas no longer a path; but Paul pushed on over the soft carpet of green\nmoss. The fragrance of the forest was pleasant. Beneath the tall trees\ngrew delicious strawberries and the little boy picked them and\nrefreshed himself as he went along.\n\nAt last he came to a great oak, and saw the owl perched on one of the\nbranches. The Owl wore a large pair of spectacles and studied\nattentively a green sheet which she held in her claws.\n\nPaul halted beneath the tree and shouted, \u201cMrs. Owl! Mrs. Owl!\u201d\n\nBut the Owl was so deeply absorbed in her studies, that she did not\nhear, and only after he had repeated his call several times did she\nlook down. Uttering an angry cry, she glared down at Paul with fierce\nround eyes.\n\n\u201cWell, what is it you want?\u201d she asked. \u201cHow dare you disturb me in my\nstudies?\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse me, Mrs. Owl,\u201d begged Paul. \u201cThe Porcupine sent me to you. He\ntold me that you are the wisest creature he knows of. Surely, you will\nbe able to answer my questions.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat matter the opinions of the Porcupine to me? What have I to do\nwith your questions?\u201d growled the Owl. \u201cWhy should I waste my precious\ntime on such a stupid child as you? You know very well that I can see\nonly at night and the summer nights are so short that I have hardly\ntime enough for my studies. I, too, think over all kinds of questions.\nOne in particular has bothered me for countless years; I have grown old\nand grey over it, and yet no science in the world has helped me to\nsolve it.\u201d The Owl sighed deeply and her countenance became sorrowful.\n\n\u201cAnd just what is this question of yours?\u201d Paul inquired anxiously.\n\n\u201cDo you think, perhaps, that YOU can answer it, you young saucebox?\u201d\nsneered the Owl. \u201cAround this question hang all the other questions of\nthe world; it is: Why are all people so stupid?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre all people really so stupid?\u201d asked Paul, astonished.\n\n\u201cYes, and if you don\u2019t know that, why do you disturb me? Is it because\nyou have never seen anything that you are so idiotic?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery little,\u201d replied the little boy shamefacedly. \u201cYou ought to know,\ndear Mrs. Owl, that I live in a poorhouse, where there are only old\nfolks, and naturally they are all wise.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa, ha, ha,\u201d laughed the owl. It sounded most awful in the dark\nforest. \u201cHa, ha, ha! You are certainly another splendid example of the\nstupidity of mankind. So it is in the poorhouse that all people are\nwise? Well, we will see if you are right. Who is it that you like best\nin the poorhouse?\u201d\n\n\u201cMary.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is Mary?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe maid.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does she do?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe works all day long. She gets up at five o\u2019clock in the morning,\nand is the last one to go to bed.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen she most likely earns lots of money, wears beautiful clothes, and\neats good food?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no, she\u2019s as poor as a beggar, she patches her clothes over and\nover, and eats what other people leave.\u201d\n\n\u201cH-m-m. Well, why then does she work so hard if she gets nothing out of\nit?\u201d\n\nLittle Paul thought a while, finally he said, \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I know\u2014it is because she is stupid. Mary knows, too, that there\nare fashionable ladies who don\u2019t move a hand, who wear gorgeous\nclothes, eat costly food, live in luxury. Hasn\u2019t Mary ever asked\nherself: How is it that I, who work all day long have nothing, and\nthey, who do nothing have everything?\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe not.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, your Mary is stupid, very stupid. Whom do you still\nconsider wise, you little sheep?\u201d\n\n\u201cOld Jacob.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is this Old Jacob?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is an old laborer, he is eighty years old. He worked until his\nseventieth year. Now he can\u2019t do anything more, and has his hands and\nfeet and legs crippled by rheumatism.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe worked sixty years for others! A pretty long time. I suppose that\nOld Jacob is treated like a prince, everybody is terribly anxious to\nserve him? He has a wonderful soft bed for his tired limbs, gets\nspecial kind of food every day, lives well and happily?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no, the old matron always curses at him when he complains that the\nbread is too hard for his old teeth. And if he asks for a little\ntobacco, she gets angry and cries that he is unreasonable.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy then did Old Jacob work until he was seventy years old, if now\nwhen he\u2019s old he doesn\u2019t even live well?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause he is stupid. He knows also, just like Mary, that there are\nfine young gentlemen who do nothing at all and yet live like kings. Do\nyou see now, little imp, that people are stupid?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Paul sadly. \u201cBut I would like to ask you something, dear\nMrs. Owl. Why are there rich people in the world?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou really ought to be able to answer this question yourself after our\ntalk, little stupid head: Because the poor people are stupid.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why are they stupid?\u201d\n\nBut now the owl became angry, the same as the fat matron and the\nbrightly speckled hen.\n\n\u201cDidn\u2019t I tell you, little imp, you stupid little person, that I have\nbeen thinking about this question for years and years? Come back again\neighty years from now, perhaps I will answer you then.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why...?\u201d\n\n\u201cQuiet!\u201d the owl commanded little Paul. \u201cYou have stolen enough\nvaluable time from me already. Go to the Cuckoo!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere does she live?\u201d asked the frightened little boy.\n\nBut already the Owl had adjusted her spectacles, become absorbed in the\ngreen leaf, and gave no answer.\n\n\u201cOh, poor me!\u201d little Paul thought sadly. \u201cNow I am to go to the\nCuckoo, and I don\u2019t even know where she lives. Will the Cuckoo know\nmore than the Owl? And I am already so tired, my feet hurt me.\u201d\n\nHe sank down upon the soft green moss at the foot of a slender young\nbirch. Little by little he became very depressed. He was thinking how\nhe was altogether abandoned and alone, how nobody was good to him, and\nall at once he began to weep bitterly. Thereupon he became aware of a\nthin small voice coming from somewhere high up; it sounded like little\nbells of pure silver.\n\n\u201cWhy are you crying, little child?\u201d the silvery voice asked.\n\nPaul looked upward and he saw the most wonderful little creature he had\never beheld in his life. Upon a branch of the birch sat a fairy. She\nhad long golden-blond hair, which reached down to her feet, her little\nface was pale and delicate as moonlight, and her big eyes shone green\nlike the leaves of the birch. She fluttered down toward Paul very\nlightly, alighted on his shoulder, it was as though a light leaf\ntouched him, and stroked his face with her tiny white hands. Paul\u2019s\nheart warmed. How good it was to be touched by tender hands! His tears\nstopped, he stared at the little creature, and asked at last, \u201cWho are\nyou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a Dryad, I am the soul of the birchtree,\u201d declared the little\ncreature. \u201cAll day long I must sit in my tree, but when night comes I\nam free, I walk about on the earth, play with the other Dryads, my\nsisters. But tell me, for what reason are you sad?\u201d\n\nPaul told the Dryad of his unhappiness, saying at the end, \u201cI must\nalways ask why. The question burns in my heart, hurts me, and I believe\nif I ever receive an answer I will be happy. But now this question\nstands between me and all other people who do not ask the question like\na big wall and this makes me so lonesome.\u201d\n\nThe little Dryad laughed and her pretty face became sweeter and more\ntender than before.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, little Paul,\u201d she said softly. \u201cYou are not alone.\nHundreds and thousands ask the same question, sad and troubled. Put\nyour ear down to the earth and tell me what you hear.\u201d\n\nPaul obeyed. At first he heard only an indistinct sighing and\nwhispering, then he thought he heard a terrible weeping and crying, and\nat last he heard words.\n\n\u201cMother, I am hungry, why is there nothing to eat?\u201d cried a child\u2019s\nvoice.\n\n\u201cI am stifling in this hot city, why can\u2019t I go to the country like my\nrich schoolmates?\u201d murmured a boy\u2019s voice.\n\n\u201cI work all day, why are wages so low that I scarcely have enough to\nlive on?\u201d sobbed a woman\u2019s voice.\n\n\u201cWhy have the idlers everything and the workers nothing?\u201d said a man\u2019s\nvoice threateningly.\n\nAnd then all the voices rang together, crying, murmuring, sobbing,\nthreatening, \u201cWhy? Why?\u201d\n\nPaul sat up, looked at the little Dryad who sat very quietly near him\nand asked, \u201cWho are these people whom I heard?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are your people,\u201d replied the little Dryad. \u201cThat is your family.\nYou have heard all the languages in the world, you will hear questions\nfrom all mouths, angrily, anxiously, threateningly. Every day new\nvoices join the chorus, and when the thousands of voices become\nmillions and billions, then there will be an end to the misery and\npoverty and to those lazy parasites.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen will that be?\u201d asked Paul eagerly.\n\n\u201cThat I cannot tell you, I know only this\u2014every time I put my ear to\nthe earth, I find new voices added and that is how I know that the day\nis not far distant.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd can nothing be done to make the day come sooner?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course. There are many, many people who do not know yet how good it\nis for other people and how bad their lives are; who work like beasts\nand never ask why their honest labor brings a starvation wage. These\npoor blind people must be shown the truth, and this is not at all easy,\nbecause the poor are so tired from the day\u2019s work that they can hardly\nthink; and the rich do everything not to awaken questions in the minds\nof the workers. That is why they punish every one who asks, \u2018Why?\u2019 You\nhave already learned from your own experience, little Paul.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I must continue asking questions?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, little Paul, but do not ask the rich, they will not answer you\nbecause if they did they would have to say, \u2018The world is such a bad\nplace for poor people because we, the rich, are greedy, selfish, vile,\u2019\nand no person likes to say that about himself. But go to the poor\npeople, ask them, \u2018Why do you eat dry bread though you work hard, while\nthe idle rich eat cake? Why are your children pale, thin and ill while\nthe rich children are rosy, fat and healthy? Why does your long life of\ntoil end in the poorhouse, whereas the lazy grafters are well taken\ncare of in their old age, resting luxuriously from their lives of\nidleness?\u2019 Ask the poor people these questions so long and so often\nthat they will fall on the structure of injustice like a hammer and\nsmash it. Will you do it, little Paul?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied the boy with eyes alight.\n\nThe little Dryad kissed his forehead and said earnestly, \u201cYour life\nwill be hard, little Paul. The rich, who are afraid of losing what they\nhave robbed, will punish you. They will try to choke the question in\nyour throat, they will throw you into jail, that no one may hear your\nvoice. But you must not lose courage, for the question was not born in\nyou in vain, you are destined to speak before many thousands who are\ntoday still dumb. And you will find comrades, friends\u2014you will not be\nalone.\u201d\n\nThe little Dryad nodded laughingly to Paul, swept lightly upwards, and\nsat on a branch of the birch.\n\n\u201cAre you going already,\u201d asked little Paul, worried.\n\n\u201cYou must go home, little Paul. But you must always come back and I\nwill comfort you and help you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWait a little,\u201d begged Paul. \u201cThe Owl said in eighty years, not until\neighty years from now, she will be able to answer my question. That is\na long time. Did the Owl speak truly?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat depends on you people,\u201d replied the light, silvery voice of the\ntiny Dryad. \u201cPerhaps it will take you eighty years to become wise,\nperhaps if you, you and your comrades, do not stop asking questions, it\nmay only take fifty years. The great day of freedom may come in twenty,\nin ten years. Yes, perhaps even tomorrow.\u201d\n\nThe tiny Dryad disappeared into the tree, but all the tree called in\nlight, joyous voices to little Paul:\n\n\u201cTomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!\u201d","title":"Fairy Tales for Workers' Children","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15355}