THE CHILD'S WORLD

Success with the Child's World Readers is in no way reliant on using the chart, manual, or cards.

Modern reading teachers, however, understand the time and effort that can be saved for both their students and themselves by using cards, charts, and manuals, and they expect the publisher to offer these materials in a convenient format and at a reasonable price.

The following resources are provided with the hope that they will help both trained and untrained teachers be more effective in their work.

Child's World Reader Charts, $6.00
(10 stunning charts in color 27x37—20 lessons)

Child's World Manual, 75c
(Suggestions and outlines for the first 5 grades)

Child's World Word Cards, $1.00
(129 cards—258 words in Primer vocabulary)

Child's World Phrase Cards, $0.75
(48 cards—96 phrases)

Child's World Phonic Cards, 80¢
(80 cards printed on both sides)

Johnson Publishing Company

Richmond, VA.

For permission to use copyrighted material, the authors and publishers thank The Independent for "Who Loves the Trees Best?" by Alice M. Douglas; Oliver Herford and the Century Company for "The Elf and the Dormouse"; the American Folklore Society for "How Brother Rabbit Fooled the Whale and the Elephant," by Alcee Fortier; Outlook for "Making the Best of It," by Frances M. Fox, and "Winter Nights," by Mary F. Butts; Harper Brothers for "The Animals and the Mirror," from Told by the Sand Man; Rand McNally & Company for "Little Hope's Doll," from Stories of the Pilgrims, by Margaret Pumphrey; Daughady & Company for "Squeaky and the Scare Box," from Christmas Stories, by Georgene Faulkner; D.C. Heath & Company for "The Little Cook's Reward," from Stories of the Old North State, by Mrs. L.A. McCorkle; Charles Scribner's Sons for "A Good Play" and "Block City," by Robert Louis Stevenson, "The Glad New Year," from Rhymes and Jingles, by Mary Mapes Dodge, "A Christmas Wish" and "Rock-a-by-Lady," by Eugene Field; Houghton Mifflin Company for permission to adapt selections from Hiawatha; Doubleday, Page & Company for "The Sand Man," by Margaret Vandergrift, from The Posy Ring—Wiggin and Smith; James A. Honey for "The Monkey's Fiddle," from South African Tales; Maud Barnard for "Donal and Conal"; and Maud Barnard and Emilie Yonker for their versions of Epaminondas.

Life of General Robert E. Lee
For Third and Fourth Grades

Life of General Thomas J. Jackson
For Third and Fourth Grades

Life of Washington
For Fourth and Fifth Grades

Life of General N.B. Forrest
For Fifth Grade

Life of General J.E.B. Stuart
For Fifth and Sixth Grades

Soldier Life in the Army of Northern Virginia
For Fifth Grade

Tennessee History Stories
For Grades 3 and 4

North Carolina History Stories
For Fourth and Fifth Grades

Texas History Stories
For Fifth and Sixth Grades

Half-Hours in Southern History
For 6th and 7th Grades

The Yemassee (Complete Edition)
For Seventh and Eighth Graders

(Ask for a catalog that includes a list of other supplementary reading)

JOHNSON PUBLISHING COMPANY
RICHMOND, VA.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Flora J. Cooke

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Flora J. Cooke

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Alice May Douglas

LEAVES IN AUTUMN

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Henry Ward Beecher

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, George Cooper

HOW MARY GOT A NEW DRESS

THE PLAID DRESS

THE GODDESS OF THE SILKWORM

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Hans Christian Andersen

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, William Brighty Rands

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Juliana H. Ewing

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Oliver Herford

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Italian Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Arabian Nights

GIVING THANKS

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Grimm

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Southern Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Southern Folktale

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Eugene Field

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Classic Story Reimagined

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Old English Rhyme

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Georgene Faulkner

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Mary Mapes Dodge

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Frances M. Fox

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, F.A. Walker

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Eastern Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Mary F. Butts

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Margaret Pumphrey

NAHUM PRINCE

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Mrs. L.A. McCorkle

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Charles Myall

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, The Indian Tar-Baby Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Southern Indian Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Robert Louis Stevenson

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Robert Louis Stevenson

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, African Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Grimm

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Gabriel Setoun

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Grimm

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Hans Christian Andersen

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Adapted from Alfred de Musset

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Lucy Larcom

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Classic Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Irish Story

WHO TOLD THE NEWS?

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Inspired by Longfellow

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Indian Myth

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Grimm

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Emily Nesbit

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Gabriel Setoun

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Old English Story

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, English Ballad (adapted)

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, English Ballad (adapted)

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Eugene Field

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, Margaret Vandergrift

A DICTIONARY

SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS

Long ago, on a high hill in Greece, Philemon and Baucis lived.

They were poor, but they were never unhappy. They had several beehives from which they collected honey, and many vines from {10} that provided grapes. One old cow supplied them with all the milk they needed, and they had a small field where they grew grain.

The old couple had everything they needed and were always willing to share whatever they had with anyone in need. No stranger was ever turned away from their door.

At the base of the hill was a lovely village, surrounded by nice roads and lush pastures. But it was filled with wicked, selfish people who had no love in their hearts and only cared about themselves.

At the time of this story, the people in the village were really busy. Zeus, who they thought ruled the world, had announced that he was going to visit them. They were getting ready for a big feast and doing everything they could to make things look nice for his arrival.

One evening, right before dark, two homeless people entered the valley. They went to every house, asking for food and a place to stay; but {11} the residents were either too busy or too exhausted to help them. They were only focused on the arrival of Zeus.

Footsore and tired, the two beggars finally made their way up the hill to the hut of Philemon and Baucis. These kind people had eaten very little, as they were saving their best food for Zeus.

When they saw the beggars, Philemon said, "These guys definitely need food more than Zeus. They look like they’re starving."

"Definitely, they do!" Baucis replied, and she hurried off to get dinner ready for the guests.

She spread her best white tablecloth on the table and brought out bacon, herbs, honey, grapes, bread, and milk. She arranged everything on the table in her finest dishes and called the strangers in.

Then what do you think happened? The dishes that the strangers touched turned to gold. The pitcher was never empty, even though they drank glass after glass of milk. The loaf {12} of bread always stayed the same size, even though the strangers kept cutting slice after slice.

"These travelers are unusual," the old couple whispered to each other. "They do amazing things."

That night, Philemon and Baucis slept on the floor so the strangers could have their one bed. In the morning, they accompanied the travelers to the bottom of the hill to make sure they started their journey safely.

"Now, good people," said one of the strangers, "we appreciate you, and whatever you want will be yours."

As he said this, his face shone like the sun. Then Philemon and Baucis realized that Zeus had spoken to them.

"Grant, O Zeus, that one of us does not outlive the other," they shouted together.

"Your wish is granted," said Zeus, "and even more. Go back home and be happy."

Philemon and Baucis headed home, and, wow! their hut had transformed into a stunning castle.

The elderly couple turned to thank their guests, but they were gone.

In this castle, Philemon and Baucis lived for many years. They always did everything they could to help others and were so happy that they never thought about wanting anything for themselves. {14}

As the years went by, the couple became very old and frail. One day, Baucis said to Philemon, "I wish we could live forever and always be together."

"Ah, that's my wish too!" sighed old Philemon.

The next morning, the marble palace was gone; Baucis and Philemon were gone; but there on the hilltop stood two beautiful trees, an oak and a linden.

No one knew what happened to the good people. After many years, though, a traveler resting under the trees heard them whispering to one another.

"Baucis," whispered the oak tree.

"Philemon," replied the lime tree.

There the trees stood through sun and rain, always ready to spread their leafy shade over every weary stranger who passed by.

—FLORA J. COOKE.

Long ago, the poplar extended its branches like other trees. It experimented with how far it could stretch them.

Once at sunset, an old man walked through the forest where the poplar trees stood. The trees were settling down for the night, and it was getting dark.

The man had something hidden under his cloak. It was a pot of gold—the same pot of gold that sits at the end of the rainbow. He had stolen it and was searching for a place to stash it. A poplar tree stood beside the path.

"This is the perfect spot to hide my treasure," the man said. "The branches extend out perfectly, and the leaves are big and dense. How lucky that the trees are all asleep!"

He put the pot of gold in the thick branches and then ran away quickly.

The gold belonged to Iris, the beautiful girl who had a rainbow bridge to the earth. The next morning, she realized her precious pot was gone. {16} It usually sat at the base of the rainbow, but it wasn’t there now.

Iris rushed off to tell her father, the mighty Zeus, about her loss. He promised that he would help her find the pot of gold.

He called a messenger, the fast-paced Mercury, and said, "Go quickly, and don’t come back until you’ve found the treasure."

Mercury zoomed down to earth like the wind. He quickly reached the forest and stirred the trees awake.

"Iris has lost her precious pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow. Have any of you seen it?" he asked.

The trees were really sleepy, but they all shook their heads.

"We haven't seen it," they said.

"Hold up your branches," said Mercury. "I need to make sure that the pot of gold isn’t hidden among them."

All the trees lifted their branches. The poplar next to the path was the first to {17} lift his. He was a genuine tree and knew he had nothing to conceal.

Down fell the pot of gold. The poplar tree was so surprised! He hung his branches in shame. Then he raised them high in the air.

"Forgive me," he said. "I don't know how it ended up there; but from now on, I’ll always keep my branches up. Then everyone can see that I have nothing hidden."

Since then, the branches have always grown straight up, and everyone knows that the poplar is a reliable and upright tree.

—FLORA J. COOKE.

—ALICE MAY DOUGLAS.

Once a pair of birds came to our fields. They had never built a nest or seen a winter.

Oh, how beautiful everything was! The fields were filled with flowers, the grass was tall, and bees were buzzing all around.

One of the birds started singing, and the other bird said, "Who told you to sing?"

He replied, "The flowers and the bees informed me. The blue sky told me, and you told me."

"When did I tell you to sing?" his friend asked.

"Every time you brought in soft grass for the nest," he replied. "Every time your gentle wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to line it."

Then his friend asked, "What are you singing about?"

"I’m singing about everything," he replied. "I sing because I’m happy."

By and by, five little speckled eggs were in the nest, and the mother bird asked, "Is there anything in the whole world as pretty as my eggs?"

A week or two later, the mother said, "Oh, what do you think has happened? One of my eggs has been peeping and moving."

Soon another egg shifted, then another, and another, until five eggs had hatched.

The little birds were so hungry that it kept {22} the parents busy feeding them. Off they both flew. As soon as the little birds heard them coming back, five yellow mouths opened up wide.

"Can anyone be happier?" said the father bird to the mother bird. "We'll live in this tree forever. It's a tree that brings joy."

The very next day, one of the birds fell out of the nest, and in no time, a cat ate it. Only four were left, and the parent birds were really sad. There was no singing all that day, or the next.

Soon the little birds were big enough to fly. The first bird that tried his wings flew from one branch to another. His parents praised him, and the other baby birds wondered how he had done it.

The little kid was so proud of it that he tried again. He flew and flew and couldn't stop flying. Finally, he crashed right down by {23} the kitchen door. A little boy grabbed him and took him into the house.

Now only three birds were left. The sun didn't seem bright to the birds anymore, and they didn't sing as often.

In no time, the other birds figured out how to use their wings, and they flew further and further away. They found their own food and built their own nests.

Then the old birds sat quietly and stared at each other for a long time. Finally, the mother bird asked, "Why aren’t you singing?"

"I can't sing," the dad bird replied. "I can only think and think!"

"What are you thinking?"

"I’m thinking about how everything changes. The leaves are falling, and soon there won’t be a roof over our heads. The flowers are all gone. Last night there was a frost. Almost all the birds have flown away, and I’m restless. Something is calling me, and I feel like I have to fly away, too."

"Let's fly away together!" the mother bird said.

Then they quietly floated up into the air. They glanced to the north; in the distance, they spotted the snow approaching. They looked to the south; there, they saw green leaves.

All day they flew. All night they kept flying until they discovered a land with no winter. There, it was summer all the time; flowers were always blooming and birds were always singing.

—HENRY WARD BEECHER

—GEORGE COOPER.

Mary lived a long time ago. She was a little girl when your great-great-grandmother was also a little girl.

In those days, all clothing had to be made at home. Aunt Dinah, Aunt Chloe, and Aunt Dilsey were busy spinning and weaving to create clothes for the entire plantation.

One day, Mary's mom said, "Aunt Dilsey, Mary needs a new dress, and I want you to weave some fabric right away. Can you weave some really nice fabric?"

"Yes, ma'am," Aunt Dilsey said. "I have some cotton I've been saving to make her a dress."

Aunt Dilsey took out the cards and carded the cotton until it was smooth and fine. Then she attached a roll of this cotton to the spindle and set the wheel spinning with a "Zum-m-m-m—Zum-m-m-m!"

Mary stood and watched the elderly woman.

"Aunt Dilsey," she said, "the spinning wheel sings a song, and I know what it says. Grandmother told me. It says,

"And that means you, sweetie," said Aunt Dilsey.

When the yarn was ready, Aunt Dilsey secured it in the loom and started weaving. The threads went over and under, over and under. As Aunt Dilsey wove, she hummed. Mary stood by and sang this song,

After the fabric was woven, Aunt Dilsey took it out of the loom. Then she bleached it until it was as white as snow. Now it was ready to be made into a dress.

"Mom, can you tell me how you're going to make the dress?" Mary asked. "Will it have ruffles like Sue's? Will it have any trimming? And how many buttons are you going to put on it? Sue's dress has twelve; I know because I counted them."

Mother didn't reply to all these questions; she just smiled as the scissors went snip, snip into the fabric. But she did cut out ruffles, {29} and Aunt Maria started to hem them.

By and by, Grandma came into the room.

"Mary," she said, "here's some lace I got in England. Mom can put it on your dress."

How happy Mary was! She danced with joy.

Mother put on the lace, and Grandma made the buttonholes. How many do you think she made? Well, she made twelve!

When the dress was done, it was just like Sue's. Except it was a lot nicer, because Mary's dress had three ruffles and Sue's only had two! Plus, there was the lace from England!

"I want a warm plaid dress," said a little girl. "The days are getting colder, and the frost will be here soon. But how can I get it? Mom says she can’t buy one for me."

The old white sheep in the meadow heard her, and he bleated to the shepherd, "The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. I'll give my wool. Who else will help?"

The kind shepherd said, "I will." Then he took the old white sheep to the stream and washed its wool. Once it was clean and white, he said, "The little girl wants a cozy plaid dress. The sheep has given its wool, and I’ve cleaned it up. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the shearers. "We will bring our shears and shear the wool."

The shearers trimmed the soft wool from the old sheep, and then they shouted, "The little girl needs a new dress. The sheep has given its {31} wool. The shepherd has washed it, and we have sheared it. Who else will help?"

"We will," shouted the carders. "We will comb it out straight and smooth."

Soon they held up the wool, carded straight and smooth, and they shouted, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given its wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it, and we have carded it. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the spinners. "We will turn it into thread."

"Whirr, whirr!" The spinning wheels moved so quickly, always making a sound.

Soon the spinners said, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given its wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it, and we have spun it into thread. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the dyers. "We will dye it in beautiful colors."

Then they dipped the woven threads into bright dye: red, blue, green, and brown.

As they laid out the wool to dry, the dyers shouted, "The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has provided its wool. The shepherd has cleaned the wool. The shearers have sheared it. The carders have carded it. The spinners have spun it, and we have dyed it with bright, beautiful colors. Who else will help?"

"We will," said the weavers. "We'll turn it into fabric."

"Clickety-clack! clickety-clack!" went the {33} loom, as the colored thread was woven back and forth. Before long, it turned into beautiful plaid fabric.

Then the little girl's mom sewed the dress. It was a beautiful plaid dress, and the little girl loved wearing it. Every time she put it on, she thought of her friends who had helped her—the sheep, the shearers, the carders, the spinners, the dyers, the weavers, and her beloved mom.

Hoangti was the emperor of China. He had a beautiful wife named Si-ling. The emperor and his wife cared for their people and always considered their happiness.

In those days, the Chinese people wore clothes made from animal skins. Gradually, animals became rare, and the people were unsure of what to wear. The emperor and empress tried unsuccessfully to find alternative ways to clothe them.

One morning, Hoangti and his wife were in the beautiful palace garden. They walked back and forth, talking about their people.

Suddenly the emperor said, "Look at those worms on the mulberry trees, Si-ling. They look like they're spinning."

Si-ling looked, and sure enough, the worms were spinning. A long thread was coming from the mouth of each one, and each little worm was wrapping this thread around its body.

Si-ling and the emperor stood still and {35} watched the worms. "This is amazing!" said Si-ling.

The next morning, Hoangti and the empress strolled under the trees again. They found some worms still weaving threads. Others had already formed their cocoons and were fast asleep. In a few days, all the worms had spun cocoons.

"This is truly an amazing thing!" said Si-ling. "Wow, each worm has a thread on its body that's long enough to make its own house!"

Si-ling thought about this day after day. One morning as she and the emperor walked under the trees, she said, "I think I might be able to figure out how to weave those long threads into cloth."

"But how can you untangle the threads?" asked the emperor.

"I'll find a way," Si-ling said. And she did; but she had to try a lot of times.

She placed the cocoons in a warm spot, and the little sleepers quickly died. Then the cocoons {36} were put into boiling water to soften the threads. After that, the long threads could be easily unwound.

Now Si-ling had to come up with a new idea; she needed to figure out how to turn the threads into fabric. After many attempts, she created a loom—the first one that had ever existed. She taught others how to weave, and before long, hundreds of people were producing cloth from the silkworm threads.

The people afterwards referred to Si-ling as "The Goddess of the Silkworm." And whenever the emperor walked with her in the garden, they enjoyed watching the silkworms spin threads for the benefit of their community.

It was spring. The flax was in full bloom, showcasing delicate little blue flowers that swayed in the breeze.

"People say I look great," said the flax. "They say I'm nice and tall and that I'll make a beautiful piece of linen. I'm so happy! No one in the world could be happier."

"Oh, yes," said the fence post, "you can grow and be happy, and you can sing, but you don't understand the world like I do. I have knots in me." And it creaked;

"No, it isn’t over," said the flax. "The sun will shine, and the rain will fall, and I will keep growing. No, no, the song isn’t over."

One day, some men came with sharp reaping hooks. They grabbed the flax by the head and cut it off at the roots. This was very painful, you can be sure.

Then the flax was soaked in water and almost drowned. After that, it was placed on a fire and nearly burned. All of this was terrible. But the flax only said, "You can't be happy all the time. By going through tough times as well as good ones, we become wiser."

After the flax was cut, soaked, and roasted, it was placed on a spinning wheel. "Whir-r-r, whir-rr-r," went the spinning wheel; it spun so quickly that the flax could barely keep up.

"I have been really happy in the sunshine and the rain," it said. "If I'm in pain now, I have to be okay with it."

At last, the flax was placed in the loom. Before long, it turned into a beautiful piece of white linen.

"This is really amazing," said the flax. "How silly the fence post was with its song of—

The song isn't over, I'm sure. It has only just started.

"After everything I’ve been through, I’m finally made into beautiful linen. I’m so strong and fine, and I'm long and white! This is even better than being a flowering plant. I’ve never been happier than I am right now."

After a while, the linen was cut into pieces and sewn together with needles. It wasn't fun, but eventually there were twelve nice white aprons.

"Look," said the flax, "I have become something. Now I will be of some use in the world. That's the only way to be happy."

Years went by, and the fabric was so threadbare that it could barely hold together.

"The end has to come soon," said the flax.

At last, the linen fell apart into rags and tatters; it was torn into shreds and boiled in water. The flax thought the end had come.

But no, the end wasn't here yet. After being turned into pulp and dried, the flax transformed into beautiful white paper.

"This is a surprise, a wonderful surprise," it said. "I feel better than ever, and I’m going to have great things written about me. I’m so happy!"

And sure enough, the most beautiful stories and poems were written on it. People read the stories and poems, and they became wiser and better. Their children and their children's children read them too, so the song didn't end.

—HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

—William Brighty Rands.

As everyone knows, fairies are always just. They are kind to others, and in return, they expect others to be kind to them. In some countries across the sea, there are fairies called Hillmen.

Now, there was a housewife who loved to make deals. She only gave away things she had no use for, and always expected to receive something back in return.

One day, a Hillman knocked on her door.

"Can you lend us a saucepan?" he asked. "There's a wedding on the hill, and all the pots are being used."

"Is he getting one?" whispered the servant who opened the door.

"Yeah, for sure," replied the housewife. "You have to be friendly. Get the saucepan for him, girl."

The maid turned to grab a good saucepan from the shelf, but the housewife stopped her.

"Not that, not that," she whispered. "Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, but that's fine. The Hillmen are so tidy and quick that they'll definitely fix it before sending it back home. I can satisfy the fairies and save sixpence on repairs, too."

The maid brought the old saucepan that had been kept aside until the tinker's next visit and handed it to the Hillman. He thanked her and left.

When the saucepan was returned, it had been carefully fixed, just as the housewife expected.

At night, the maid filled the pot with milk and put it on the stove to heat for the children's dinner. After a few moments, the milk was so scorched and burnt that no one wanted to touch it. Even the pigs turned it down.

"Ah, you good-for-nothing!" shouted the housewife. "That's a quart of milk wasted all at once."

"And that's two pence," shouted a strange little voice that seemed to come from the chimney.

The housewife filled the saucepan again and put it on the stove. It hadn't been there more than two minutes before it boiled over and got burnt and smoky like before.

"The pan must be dirty," the woman grumbled, clearly annoyed. "I’ve wasted two full quarts of milk."

"And that's four pence!" added the strange little voice from the chimney.

The saucepan was scrubbed clean; then it was filled with milk for the third time and placed over the heat. Once again, the milk bubbled over and was ruined.

Now the housewife was really annoyed. "I've never had anything like this happen since I started running a household," she exclaimed. "Three quarts of milk wasted!"

"And that's sixpence," shouted the strange little voice from the chimney. "You didn't manage to save the tinkering after all, mom!"

With that, the Hillman himself tumbled down the chimney and ran off laughing. But from that point on, the saucepan was just as good as any other.

—JULIANA H. EWING.

—OLIVER HERFORD.

Good King John of Atri loved his people a lot and wanted to see them happy. However, he knew that some were not; he realized that many were suffering injustices that were not addressed. This made him sad.

One day, the king came up with an idea to help his people. He had a large bell installed in a tower in the marketplace. He made the rope so long that even a child could reach it.

Then the king sent messengers through the streets to explain to the people why he had placed the bell in the marketplace. The messengers blew their trumpets loudly, and the people came out of their homes to hear the announcement.

"Listen up," shouted a herald, "whenever someone is wronged, all they have to do is ring the big bell in the square. A judge will go to the tower to hear the complaint, and he will make sure justice is served."

"Long live our great king!" shouted the crowd. "Now our grievances will be addressed."

And so it happened. Whenever someone was wronged, he rang the bell in the tower. The judge donned his elaborate robes and went there. He listened to the complaint, and the guilty were punished.

The people in Atri were really happy now, and the days flew by. The bell stayed in its spot year after year, and it was rung many times. Eventually, the rope got so worn that it was barely reachable.

The king said, "Well, a child couldn't reach the rope now, and a mistake can't be fixed. I need to replace it."

So he ordered a rope from a faraway town. Back then, it took a long time to travel from one town to another. What should they do if someone wanted to ring the bell before the new rope arrived?

"We need to fix the rope somehow," said a man.

"Here," said another, "take this piece of grapevine and tie it to the rope. That way, it will be long enough for anyone to reach."

This was done, and for a while, the bell was rung like that.

One hot summer afternoon, everything was completely quiet. Everyone was inside, taking their midday break.

Suddenly, they were awakened by the ringing bell:

The judge woke up from a deep sleep, rolled over on his couch, and listened. Could it be the sound of justice?

Once more, the sound came:

It was the bell of justice. The judge put on his ornate robes and, out of breath, rushed to the marketplace.

There he saw an unusual sight: a poor horse, starving and thin, pulling at the vines that were attached to the bell. A large crowd had gathered around.

"Whose horse is this?" the judge asked.

"It belongs to the wealthy soldier who lives in the castle," said a man. "He has served his owner faithfully for many years and has saved his life numerous times. Now that the horse is too old to work, the owner has abandoned him. He roams through the paths and fields, foraging for whatever food he can find."

"His demand for justice will be heard," said the judge. "Bring the soldier to me."

The soldier tried to laugh it off. Then he got angry and said quietly, "You should be able to do whatever you want with your own things."

"For shame!" exclaimed the judge. "Hasn't the {52} horse served you for many years? And hasn't he saved your life? You need to provide him with a good shelter, the best grain, and the finest pasture. Take the horse home and be as loyal to him as he has been to you."

The soldier hung his head in shame and walked the horse away. The crowd cheered and clapped.

"King John is awesome," they shouted, "and so is the bell of Atri!"

—Italian Story.

One day at noon, a poor man was riding down a road. He was tired and hungry and wanted to stop and take a break. Spotting a tree with low branches, he tied his horse to one of them. Then he sat down to eat his lunch.

Soon a wealthy man came by and began to tie his horse to the same tree.

"Don't tie your horse to that tree," shouted the poor man. "My horse is wild and he might hurt yours. Tie him to a different tree."

"I'll tie my horse wherever I want," the rich man responded; and he tied his horse to the same tree. Then he also sat down to eat.

Very soon, the men heard a loud noise. They looked up and saw that their horses were kicking and fighting. Both men hurried to stop them, but it was too late; the rich man's horse was dead.

"Look at what your horse has done!" yelled the {54} wealthy man angrily. "But you will make up for it! You will make up for it!"

Then he brought the man in front of a judge.

"Oh, wise judge," he shouted, "I've come to you for justice. I had a beautiful, kind, gentle horse that was killed by this man's vicious horse. Make him pay for the horse or send him to prison."

"Not so fast, buddy," the judge said. "There are two sides to every case."

He turned to the poor guy. "Did your horse take out this man's horse?" he asked.

The man didn't respond.

The judge asked in surprise, "Are you speechless? Can't you speak?"

But no words came from the poor man's lips.

Then the judge faced the wealthy man.

"What else can I do?" he asked. "You can see for yourself that this poor guy can't talk."

"Oh, but he can," shouted the wealthy man. "He talked to me."

"Definitely!" said the judge. "When?"

"He talked to me when I tied my horse to the tree."

"What did he say?" the judge asked.

"He said, 'Don't tie your horse to that tree. My horse is wild and could hurt yours.'"

"0 ho!" said the judge. "This poor man warned you that his horse was dangerous, and you tied your horse close to his anyway. This changes things. You're the one at fault, not him."

The judge turned to the poor man and said, "Hey, why didn’t you answer my questions?"

"Oh, wise judge," said the poor man, "if I had told you that I warned him not to tie his horse near mine, he would have denied it. So how could you have known which one of us to trust? I let him share his own version, and now you know the truth."

This speech impressed the judge. He praised the poor man for his wisdom and sent the rich man away empty-handed.

—Arabian Story.

A farmer's cabbage garden.

TIME: A lovely spring morning.

(The hedgehog is standing by his door, looking at the cabbage field that he believes is his.)

HEDGEHOG: Honey, have you gotten the kids ready yet?

WIFE: Just finished, my dear.

HEDGEHOG: Alright, come outside and let’s check out our cabbage patch.

(Wife steps outside.)

HEDGEHOG: Great harvest, right? We should be celebrating.

WIFE: The cabbage is good enough, but I don’t understand why we should be so happy.

HEDGEHOG: Why, my dear, there's a tremble in your voice. What’s wrong?

WIFE: I guess I shouldn’t let it bother me, but those awful hares really stress me out.

HEDGEHOG: What are they up to now?

WIFE: Doing? What aren’t they doing? Just yesterday, I brought my cute little kids out here to grab some cabbage leaves. We were eating like well-mannered hedgehogs do, and those awful rabbits nearly made us cry.

HEDGEHOG: What did they do?

WIFE: They came to our cabbage patch and laughed, saying, "Oh, look at the little duck-legged creatures! Aren't they adorable?" Then one of them jumped over a cabbage just to upset us.

HEDGEHOG: Yeah, they're mean, I know, but we won't really pay attention to them. I'll get {60} even with them around one of these days. Ah, here comes one of them now.

WIFE: Yeah, and he laughed at me yesterday. He said, "Good morning, Madam Shortlegs." I won't talk to him. I'll just hide until he walks past.

(Wife hides behind a cabbage.)

HEDGEHOG: Good morning, sir.

HARE: Are you talking to me?

HEDGEHOG: Of course; do you see anyone else here?

HARE: How dare you talk to me?

HEDGEHOG: Just being friendly.

HARE: I'm going to ask you not to talk to me from now on. I think I’m too good to pay attention to hedgehogs.

HEDGEHOG: That's just weird.

HARE: What's strange?

HEDGEHOG: I just told my wife that we wouldn't even notice you.

HARE: You really wouldn't even notice me, you silly, short-legged, duck-legged thing!

HEDGEHOG: Well, my legs are just as good as yours, sir.

HARE: As good as mine! Who's ever heard of something like that? You can barely do anything but crawl.

HEDGEHOG: That might be true, but I'm up for a race with you anytime.

HARE: Haha! Hoho! A race against a hedgehog! Wow, wow, wow!

HEDGEHOG: Are you scared to run with me?

HARE: Of course not. It won't be a race at all, but I'll run just to show you how ridiculous you are.

HEDGEHOG: Great! You run in that groove; I'll run in this one. We'll see who reaches the fence first. Let's start from the far end of the groove.

HARE: I'll race to the stream and back while you get there. Go ahead.

HEDGEHOG: I wouldn't hang around too long if I were you.

HARE: Oh, I’ll be back before you finish the row.

(The hare runs off to the stream.)

HEDGEHOG: Babe, babe, did you catch what I said to the hare?

WIFE: Did I hear that? I definitely did. What are you thinking? Have you lost your mind?

HEDGEHOG: You shouldn't talk to me like that. What do you know about a man's work? Come here and let me tell you a little secret.

(He whispers and then walks to the far end of the furrow. His wife laughs.)

WIFE: Ha, ha! I get it. I get it. Your brains are just fine.

as my grandmother used to say. The hare will find that out today.

(She bends down at the end of the furrow. The hare comes back and takes its spot.)

HARE: So, are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: Of course, I'm ready and waiting.

(The hare runs as fast as the wind. The hedgehog starts off with him, but stops and crouches down in the furrow. When the hare gets to the other end, the hedgehog's wife raises her head.)

WIFE: So, here I am.

HARE: What does this mean?

WIFE: It means what it means.

HARE: Let’s give it another shot. Are you ready?

WIFE: Yes, I am.

(The hare runs back quickly. The wife gets startled, but then stops and bends down. The hare reaches the other end. The hedgehog raises his head.)

HEDGEHOG: I'm here.

HARE: I don't get this.

HEDGEHOG: I totally understand.

HARE: Alright, let’s give it another shot. Are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: I'm always prepared.

(Again the wife lifts her head and the hare is confused.)

WIFE: You see I'm here.

HARE: I just can't believe it.

WIFE: A totally simple thing.

HARE: We'll give it another shot. You can't defeat me again.

WIFE: Don't brag. You should save your energy for the race; you'll need it.

(When the hare gets to the other side of the field, the hedgehog raises his head.)

HARE: This is really weird.

HEDGEHOG: Should we run again? You look a bit tired, but I'm totally good to go.

HARE (breathing heavily): No, no! The race is yours.

HEDGEHOG: Are you going to keep calling my wife and kids names?

HARE: No way! I'm never doing that again.

HEDGEHOG: Sure thing. And if you ever want to race, just come find me, buddy hare.

HARE (walking off shaking his head): That's really weird. I hope none of the other hares find out about this race.

WIFE (as she meets the hedgehog): I thought I might hurt myself from laughing. As my grandmother used to say,

— GRIMM.

Epaminondas had a nice grandmother who cooked at "the big house." He loved visiting her because she always gave him something to take back home.

One day when Epaminondas visited his grandma, she was baking a cake and gave him a piece to eat. As he was leaving, grandma said, "Epaminondas, you can take a slice home to your mom."

Epaminondas grabbed it in his small hands and squeezed it as tight as he could, running all the way home. When his mom saw him, she said, "What's that, Epaminondas?"

"Cake, Mom. Grandma sent it to you."

"Cake!" shouted his mom. "Epaminondas, don't you know that's not how you carry cake? When your grandma gives you cake, put it in your hat; then put your hat on your head and come home. Do you hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mom."

The next time Epaminondas visited his grandma, she was churning butter, and she gave him a lump of fresh butter to take to his mom.

Epaminondas thought to himself, "What did mom say? Oh, right! I remember. She said, 'Put it in your hat, put the hat on your head, and come home.' I'll do exactly what she told me."

Epaminondas placed the stick of butter in his hat, put the hat on his head, and headed home.

It was a hot day, and before long, the butter started to melt. Drip, drip, drip, it fell into his ears. Drip, drip, drip, it landed in his eyes. Drip, drip, drip, it slid down his back. When Epaminondas got home, there was no butter left in his hat. It was all on him.

Looking at him closely, his mom said, "Epaminondas, what on earth is that dripping from your hat?"

"Butter, Mom. Grandma sent it to you."

"Butter!" his mom exclaimed. "Oh, Epaminondas! Don't you know how to carry butter? {69} You have to wrap it in a cabbage leaf and take it to the spring. Then, you need to cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water. After you do that, take the butter in your hands and come home. Do you hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mom."

The next time Epaminondas visited his grandma, she wasn't baking a cake and she wasn't churning. She was sitting in a chair knitting.

She said, "Epaminondas, check the woodshed, and you'll find something you'll like."

Epaminondas looked in the woodshed, and there he found four little puppies. He played with them all afternoon, and when he started home, his grandma gave him one.

Epaminondas remembered what his mom had told him. He wrapped the puppy in a large cabbage leaf and took it to the spring. He kept cooling it in the water, cooling it in the water, and cooling it in the water. Then, he picked it up in his hands and headed home.

When his mom saw him, she said, "Epaminondas, what do you have in your hands?"

"A puppy, Mom."

"A puppy!" his mom exclaimed. "Oh, Epaminondas! Why are you acting so silly? That's not how you carry a puppy. The right way to carry a puppy is to tie a string around its neck and let it walk on the ground. Then you hold the other end of the string in your hand and walk home. Do you understand me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mom."

Epaminondas was determined to be right this time; he took a piece of string and put it in his pocket to have it ready.

The next day, some guests came to see Epaminondas's mom, and she had no bread for dinner. She called Epaminondas and said, "Run to 'the big house' and ask your grandma to send me a loaf of bread for dinner."

"Sure thing, Mom," said Epaminondas. And off he ran.

Granny gave him a freshly baked loaf— a nice, brown, crusty loaf. This time, Epaminondas was definitely going to do what his mom had told him.

He proudly took out his string and tied it to the loaf. Then he placed the loaf on the ground, and holding the other end of the string in his hand, he headed home.

When he got home, his mom took one look at what was tied to the end of the string.

"What did you bring, Epaminondas?" she cried.

"Bread, Mom. Grandma sent it to you."

"Oh, Epaminondas! Epaminondas! How could you be so careless?" cried his mom. "Now I have no bread for dinner. I'll have to go get some myself."

She went into the house and grabbed her bonnet. When she came out, she said, "Epaminondas, do you see those three mince pies I put on the doorstep to cool? Well, now, listen to me, Epaminondas. Be careful how you step on those pies!"

"Yes, mom."

His mom went down the road; Epaminondas walked to the door and looked out. "Mom told me to be careful how I step on those mince pies," he said, "so I need to be careful about it. I'll step right in the middle of each one."

And he really did!

When his mom came home, there were no pies for dinner.

Now she was completely angry, and then something happened. I don't know what it was, and you don't know either, but we can make a guess.

Poor Epaminondas! — Southern Story.

One day, Brother Rabbit was hopping along the sand, lippety, lippety, lippety. He was on his way to a beautiful cabbage field. Along the way, he spotted the whale and the elephant chatting together.

Brother Rabbit said, "I want to know what they’re talking about." So he crouched down behind some bushes and listened.

This is what Brother Rabbit heard the whale say:

"You are the biggest creature on land, Brother Elephant, and I am the biggest creature in the sea. If we team up, we can dominate all the animals in the world. We can do things our way in everything."

"Sounds great, sounds great," trumpeted the elephant. "That works for me. You take the sea, and I'll take the land."

"That's a deal," said the whale, as he swam away.

Brother Rabbit laughed to himself. "They're not going to control me," he said, as he ran off.

Brother Rabbit soon returned with a really long and strong rope and his big drum. He tucked the drum away in some bushes. Then, grabbing one end of the rope, he walked up to the elephant.

"Oh, dear Mr. Elephant," he said, "you're big and strong; could you please do me a favor?"

The elephant was happy, and he trumpeted, "Sure, sure. What is it?"

"My cow is stuck in the mud by the shore, and I can't pull her out," said Brother Rabbit. "If you help me, it would mean a lot to me. You're so strong, I'm sure you can get her out."

"Sure, sure," trumpeted the elephant.

"Thanks," said the rabbit. "Take this rope in your trunk, and I'll tie the other end to my cow. Then I'll beat my drum to let you know when to pull. You have to pull as hard as you can because the cow is really heavy."

"Huh!" trumpeted the elephant, "I'll pull her out, or break the rope."

Brother Rabbit tied the rope to the elephant's trunk and ran off, lippety, lippety.

He ran until he reached the shore where the whale was. Bowing, Brother Rabbit said, {76} "Oh, mighty and amazing Whale, could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" asked the whale.

"My cow is stuck in the mud on the bank," said Brother Rabbit, "and I can't get her out. But you can help. If you would be so kind as to assist me, I would really appreciate it."

"Of course," said the whale, "of course."

"Thanks," said Brother Rabbit, "grab this rope, and I'll tie the other end to my cow. Then I'll beat my big drum to let you know when to pull. You need to pull as hard as you can because my cow is really heavy."

"Don't worry," said the whale, "I could pull a dozen cows out of the mud."

"I know you can," said the rabbit kindly. "Just make sure to start off gently. Then pull harder and harder until you get her out."

The rabbit took off into the bushes where he had stashed the drum and started to beat on it. {77} Then the whale started pulling, and the elephant joined in too. In a minute, the rope was pulled taut, as stiff as a metal bar.

"This is a really heavy cow," said the elephant, "but I'll pull her out." Planting his front feet firmly on the ground, he gave a huge tug.

But the whale had no way to steady himself.

"Wow," he said. "That cow must really be stuck." Swishing his tail in the water, he made a powerful pull.

He pulled harder; the elephant pulled harder. Soon the whale found himself sliding toward the shore. He was so annoyed with the cow that he dove head first down to the bottom of the sea.

That was a yank! The elephant was yanked off his feet and came sliding and slipping toward the ocean. He was really angry.

"That cow must be really strong to pull me like this," he said. "I'll get ready."

Kneeling on the ground, he wrapped {78} the rope around his waist. Then he started to pull with all his strength, and soon the whale emerged from the water.

Then each saw that the other was holding the rope.

"What's going on?" shouted the whale. "I thought I was pulling Brother Rabbit's cow."

"That's what I thought," said the elephant. "Brother Rabbit is mocking us. He needs to pay for this. I forbid him to eat a single blade of grass on land because he played a trick on us."

"And I won't let him drink a drop of water in the sea," said the whale.

But Little Rabbit sat in the bushes and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

"Of course I care," he said. "I can get all the fresh stuff I want, and I’m not a fan of salt water."

—Southern Folktale.

—Eugene Field.

Long ago, in a distant city, there was a large church. The tower of this church was so tall that it seemed to touch the clouds, and in the tall tower, there were three amazing bells. When they rang, they created beautiful music.

There was something odd about these bells. They only rang on Christmas Eve, and no one knew who rang them. Some believed it was the wind blowing through the tower. Others thought the angels rang them when a gift made the Christ Child happy.

Although the people didn’t know what was ringing the bells, they loved to hear them. They would come from miles away to listen to the beautiful music. After they had heard the bells, they would leave the church, quiet but happy. Then everyone would return home feeling that Christmas had truly arrived.

One Christmas Eve, the people in the church waited and waited, but the bells didn't ring. Quietly and sadly, they went home. Year after year, Christmas came and went. Almost a hundred years went by, and during all that time, the bells never rang.

People sometimes asked each other, "Do you think the bells ever actually rang?"

"Yeah," said an old man. "I've often heard my dad talk about how beautifully they rang on Christmas Eve. There was more love in the world back then."

Every Christmas Eve, the church was filled with people who waited and listened. They hoped that the bells would ring again like they had long ago. Even though many gifts were placed on the altar, the bells still did not ring. {84}

Christmas was just around the corner again, and everyone was excited.

Not far from the city, two little brothers lived on a farm—Pedro and Little Brother.

Their dad was poor and didn’t have anything to offer at the altar. But Pedro had saved all his money, and he had one shiny silver coin. His dad had promised the little boys that they could go to church on Christmas Eve and bring the gift.

It was pretty dark when the guys set off towards the city. The snow was coming down hard, but they buttoned up their small jackets tightly and walked quickly. They weren't far from the church when they heard a soft whine of distress. Little Brother, clinging to Pedro in fear, said, "What is it, Pedro, what is it?"

Pedro dashed across the street, and there under a small pile of snow, guess what he found? A little black and white dog, shivering from the cold and almost starving. Pedro opened his jacket and tucked the dog inside to keep it warm.

"You'll have to go to the church by yourself, Little Brother," Pedro said. "I need to take this little dog back to the farm and feed it, or it will die."

"But I don't want to go by myself, Pedro," said Little Brother.

"Could you please take my gift to the altar, Little Brother? I really want it to be there tonight."

"Yes, Pedro, I will," Little Brother replied.

He accepted the gift and headed towards the church. Pedro turned around and went back home.

When Little Brother arrived at the big stone church and looked up at the tall tower, he felt he couldn’t go in by himself. He stood outside for a while, watching the people as {86} they went inside. Finally, he slipped in quietly and took a seat in a corner.

When Little Brother entered the church, everyone was already seated. They sat in silence, hoping that finally the bells would ring again like they used to in the past.

The organ played a Christmas song. The choir and the congregation stood up, and everyone sang the classic anthem together. Then a serious voice said, "Now bring your gifts to the altar."

The king stood up and walked forward with a dignified stride. Bowing before the altar, he placed his golden crown on it. Then he confidently returned to his seat. Everyone listened, but the bells did not chime.

Then the queen got up and, with an air of superiority, walked to the front. She took off her stunning jewels from her neck and wrists and placed them on the altar. Everyone listened, but the bells didn’t chime.

Then the soldiers marched forward proudly. They took their jeweled swords from their belts and placed them on the altar. Everyone listened, but the bells didn’t ring.

Then the wealthy men rushed forward. They counted large amounts of gold and placed them on the altar in a professional manner. Everyone listened, but the bells didn’t ring.

"Can I go all by myself to the front of the church and put this small gift on the altar?" said Little Brother. "Oh, how can I? how can I?"

Then he said, "But I told Pedro I would, and I have to."

So he quietly moved around the outer aisle. He snuck up to the altar and gently placed the silver coin right on the edge.

And listen! What do you think we heard? The bells, the bells!

Oh, how happy the people were! And how happy Little Brother was! He ran out of the church and down the road toward the farm.

Pedro had warmed up the dog and fed it, and was now heading to the city. He hoped to see the people coming out of the church.

Down the road, Little Brother came running. Throwing himself into Pedro's arms, he cried, "Oh, Pedro, Pedro! The bells, the bells! I wish you could have heard them; they rang when I put your gift on the altar."

"I did hear them, Little Brother," Pedro said. "Their sound reached me across the snow—the sweetest music I've ever heard."

Long years later, when Pedro became a man, he was a great musician. Lots of people came to hear him play.

Someone said to him one day, "How can you play so beautifully? I’ve never heard music like this before."

"Ah," Pedro said, "but you never heard the Christmas bells like I did that Christmas night so many years ago."

—A Classic Story Reimagined.

—OLD ENGLISH RHYME.

Once upon a time, a family of mice lived in the pantry wall. There was a dad mouse, a mom mouse, and three little baby mice.

One little mouse had bright, sharp eyes and could see everything, even in the darkest corners. He was called Sharpeyes. His brother could smell anything, no matter where it was hidden, and he was called Sniffy. The baby mouse had such a squeaky little voice that he was named Squeaky. He was always singing, "Ee-ee-ee!"

Mother mouse was very smart, and she had taught her babies to run and hide when they saw the old cat approaching. She had also taught them not to go near a trap. The little mice listened to their mother, and they were happy in their home in the pantry wall.

They had a lot of fun together. I could {91} not tell you about all of them, but I'm going to share what happened at their Christmas party and what went down with Squeaky.

It was the night before Christmas. The stockings were hung by the chimney, and the tall tree stood in the living room. The kids were asleep, and the parents had gone upstairs to bed.

In the pantry wall, the little mice were all wide awake.

"Ee-ee-ee!" squeaked Squeaky; "why can't we sneak into the big room and check out the tall Christmas tree? The kids have been talking about it for days, and we’ve never seen one. Mom, please let us go see it."

"Yeah," said Sniffy, "let's go. Everything smells amazing. The kids and the cook made long strings of popcorn today. I found a little on the pantry floor, and I want more."

"I looked out of our hole," said Sharpeyes, "and I saw cake and candy all set up for the {92} kids. Oh, I really want a taste of those goodies! Please let us have a Christmas party."

"Well," said mother mouse, "I'll ask your dad. If he says it's safe, we'll go."

When mom mouse asked dad mouse, he said, "I'll go out first and check everywhere. If it's safe, I'll come back for you."

So, Father Mouse quietly made his way through the pantry, down the long hallway, and into the living room. The cat was nowhere to be found. Father Mouse hurried back to the pantry and called out, "The cat isn't around; come and check out the tree."

Then all the mice came scampering out of the hole in the wall. They crept through the pantry, down the long hallway, and into the living room. When they saw the tall Christmas tree, they squeaked over and over in their excitement. Then they ran around and around the tree to see what was on it.

On the floor, they saw an amazing dollhouse. "How great it would be to live there!" they exclaimed.

They ran up and down the stairs, sat in the chairs, and lay down in the beds. Oh, they had a great time!

Then Sniffy said, "I can smell that delicious popcorn again. Let's climb up into the Christmas tree and grab some."

They climbed up into the tree. They nibbled {94} the popcorn; they nibbled the candy; they nibbled the nuts; and they nibbled the cakes.

Soon Sharpeyes shouted, "Come here, I see a mouse! I see a mouse! But he doesn't look anything like our family."

"I definitely wouldn't," sniffed Sniffy; "and he smells really good!"

"Hey, he tastes great!" squeaked Squeaky; and they all started eating the chocolate mouse.

Then they found another candy mouse—a cute pink one. They were so busy eating it that they forgot to watch and listen; then—bang! The door opened, and the lights were turned on.

With a squeak, the mice hurried down from the tree; then they ran along the hall, through the pantry, and back to their home. There was the father mouse, and the mother mouse, and Sharpeyes, and Sniffy. But where was Squeaky?

Now, as Squeaky tried to climb down the tree, he fell head over heels. Down, down, down he went until he landed in a strange box. An ugly man with black hair and black whiskers appeared to be jumping out of the box.

When Squeaky saw the lights turn on, he hid under the dress of this strange man. He lay very, very still because he had been taught to stay quiet when danger was near. He heard voices. The father and mother had returned.

"Yes," the father was saying; "it would have been a shame to forget this train. I want it to come right out from under the tree. Help me set the track down, mom."

When the train was exactly where it needed to be, the mother turned to the beautiful tree.

"Wow, check out that Jack-in-the-box," she said. "The guy is hanging out. That’s not okay. I’m going to close the box. Teddy needs to see the guy pop out."

The mother pushed the man with the black hair down, down, into the box and shut the lid. Poor Squeaky felt the springs close down on him and squeaked, "Ee-ee-"

"That was a great squeak," said the dad. "The toys are amazing these days."

"Yeah," the mom said, as she turned off the light. "When I was a kid, we didn’t have toys like these."

"I’m stuck in a trap," said poor Squeaky, "but there isn't even a scrap of cheese in it. I’m curious what kind of trap this is; nothing seems to hurt me. Well, I’m safe for now, and I hope I’ll get out soon."

Squeaky lay in the box all night, wondering what Sniffy and Sharpeyes were up to. The next morning, he heard kids shouting, "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" And soon the toys were taken down, one by one. Then there was such a racket—drums pounding, horns honking, kids cheering. You should have heard it.

"Check out our new dollhouse!" shouted one kid.

"Check out my new train! It goes so fast!" shouted another.

"And look at my beautiful doll!" shouted another. "She can open and close her eyes."

By and by, the mom took the box from the tree. "Come here, Teddy," she said. "Here’s a scare box. We’re going to have some fun. Watch me open the lid."

Teddy stood next to his mom and watched intently.

"Are you ready?" his mom asked. "Okay, let's count. One, two, three!"

The lid flew open, and out jumped the man with the black hair and black whiskers. And with a squeak of joy, the mouse jumped out too.

"Ee-ee-ee!" he shouted, as he ran away.

"Yay!" said the Jack-in-the-box.

"Whee-ee-ee!" shouted the boy with joy.

"Oh, a mouse! A mouse!" cried the mother. Then she threw the box on the floor and jumped up on her chair.

"Where? Where?" shouted all the kids.

But they only saw the tip of Squeaky's tail as he dashed across the hallway to the pantry. In no time, he was safe in the hole in the pantry wall.

The kids' dad laughed as he helped their mom get down from the chair.

"Well," he said, "how did you like Teddy's scare box?"

—GEORGENE FAULKNER.

—MARY MAPES DODGE.

"What a gloomy day it is!" complained the old gray goose to the brown hen. They were standing at the henhouse window watching the snow fall, which blanketed every nook and cranny of the farmyard.

"Yes, definitely," said the brown hen. "I would almost be okay with being turned into a chicken pie on a day like this."

She had barely finished speaking when Pekin duck said irritably, "I'm so hungry that I'm almost starving."

A small group of chickens all crowded together cried out sadly, "And we're so thirsty!"

In fact, all the birds in the henhouse looked upset and restless. It's no surprise they felt that way since they hadn't eaten or drunk anything since early morning. The cold wind howled around their home. Hour after hour passed, but no one came near the henhouse.

The handsome white rooster, however, seemed just as happy as ever. That says a lot, because there’s never been a more cheerful guy on a farm. Sunshine, rain, or snow didn’t bother him at all, and he crowed just as happily in bad weather as he did when it was nice.

"Well," he said, laughing as he looked around the henhouse, "you all seem to be in a bad mood."

Nobody replied to the white rooster, but a couple of quiet clucks came from some of the hens. They quickly tucked their heads back under {102} their wings, as if embarrassed for having said anything at all.

This was too much for the white rooster. He stood first on one yellow foot and then on the other. Turning his head from side to side, he said, "What's the point of looking so sad? Anyone would think you expected to be eaten by a gang of hungry foxes."

Just then, a brave little white bantam rooster jumped down from his perch. He walked confidently over to the big rooster and stirred up quite a commotion in the henhouse by saying:

"We're energetic enough when our crops are thriving, but when we're starving, it’s a miracle we can even hold our heads up. If I ever see that farmer's kid again, I'll—I'll—I'll poke his foot!"

"You won't see him until he feeds us," said the white rooster, "and then I guess you'll peck his corn."

"Oh no!" groaned the brown hen. "Don't even mention a peck of corn."

"Ma'am," said the white rooster, bowing low, "your problem is mine too—I’m hungry as well. But we could be in a worse situation. We could be in a crate on our way to the market. It's true we haven't eaten anything today, but at least we have enough space to stretch our wings."

"Yeah, that's true," said the brown hen. And all the feathered family—even the tiniest chicks—spread their wings and seemed a bit happier.

"Alright then," continued the rooster, "how about we have some music to lift our spirits and help the time go by until it's time to roost? Let's all crow together. Oh, I apologize, ladies; I'm sorry you can't crow. Let's sing a cheerful song. Would you please kick off a cheerful tune, Mrs. Brown Hen?"

The brown hen shook herself proudly, tossed her head back and began, “Cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck!” In less than two minutes, everyone in the henhouse had joined her. The white {104} rooster was the loudest of all, and the little bantam rooster stretched his neck and did his best.

Now, the horses, cows, and sheep were nearby. They heard the joyful voices and joined in the big chorus. The pigs tried hard to sing louder than everyone else.

Higher and higher, stronger and stronger, rose the chorus. Louder and louder quacked the ducks. Shriller and shriller squealed the pigs.

They were all so happy that they completely forgot about their hunger until the door of the henhouse swung open, and in walked three chubby kids. Each was holding a dish of warm chicken feed.

"Don't stop your music, Mr. Rooster," said the little girl, who was bundled up so much that you could hardly see her sweet little face.

"You see, we were so lonely that we didn’t know what to do. We heard you all singing out here, and we laughed and laughed until we almost cried. Then we went to tell {105} Jack about you. He was lonely too because he’s sick with a sore throat, you know. He said, 'Wow, those poor hens! They haven't been fed since morning! Go and feed them.' And so we came."

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" said the white rooster. "This is what happens when you make the best of things. Cock-a-doodle-doo!" And no one asked him to stop crowing.

—FRANCES M. FOX.

Aunt Susan sent a vintage mirror to the barn to be stored in the loft, along with some other old furniture. The farm boy placed it on the barn floor until he could find time to put it away. The mirror was wide and long, and it was set in a dark wooden frame.

An old duck wandered into the barn and saw herself in the mirror. "There's another duck," she said. "I wonder who she is."

And she walked toward the reflection. "She seems pretty friendly," the duck continued. "She’s coming closer to me. What big feet she has, but her feathers look really nice."

Just then she bumped into the mirror. "Wow!" she exclaimed; "if that duck isn't in a glass case! What are you doing in there?"

"Well, you don't have to answer if you don't {107} want to," she said, walking away. "A display case is a good spot for you."

Just then, a pig came by and, sniffing around, ended up in front of the mirror.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, thinking he saw another pig. His nose pressed against the glass, and he took a step back.

"So you're in a glass pen," he said. "You're not very good-looking, and your nose isn't as long as mine; I don't understand why you have a glass pen."

And off he went to tell the other pigs about the very ordinary-looking pig.

Kitty came next and walked in front of the mirror, turning her head and swinging her tail. She had seen a mirror before and knew what it was. The cat wanted to look in the mirror, but when she saw the dog coming in the door, she didn't want him to think she was vain.

The dog walked over to the mirror and stared at his reflection. He looked silly, even though he {108} had seen a mirror before, just not as frequently as the cat.

"Thought it was just another dog, did you?" she laughed. "Here comes the donkey. Let's hide behind those barrels and see what he does."

The donkey walked up to the mirror.

"If they don't have another donkey!" he said. "I guess I should say something first, since I've lived here for so long. Look, he’s coming to meet me. That’s really nice of him."

Bump! His nose bumped into the glass.

"Well, I guess I should just give up!" he said. "You're in a glass case, but I don't get why. You're just an ordinary-looking creature, and your ears aren't even as long as mine." Then he walked away, clearly annoyed.

The cat kept rolling around, and the dog tucked his head into his paws. "Have you ever seen anything so hilarious?" he said to the cat.

"Hush!" she said, "Here's the rooster."

The rooster froze when he saw himself in the mirror.

"Well, where did you come from?" he asked, puffing up his feathers. He walked right up to the mirror and lunged at the other rooster. Bang! He crashed into the glass.

"In a glass case, are you?" he said. He {110} stretched out his neck and looked really fierce. "You should be; you look ridiculous—your feathers are all messed up, and you're not nearly as good-looking as I am."

And off he went, pleased that he was better looking than the other rooster.

"Oh no!" laughed the cat. "I’m definitely going to scream. They all think they look better than their reflections. Here comes the turkey. Let’s see what he does."

The turkey walked slowly over to the mirror and checked out his reflection.

"Now," he asked, "where in the world did they get you? You’re an old, bald-headed thing, and your feathers need some oil. You look like last year’s turkey." And off he strutted.

The cat and the dog leaned against the barrels and laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

"Stay still," said the dog. "Here comes the speckled hen and her chicks."

Speckled hen walked around, picking up {111} bits of corn. Suddenly, she looked up and saw the mirror.

"There’s a hen with a bunch of chicks, but they aren’t as cute as mine," she said, walking toward the mirror. "Where do you live? I know you don’t belong here." And she looked closer at the other hen.

Click! Her bill hit the glass.

"Well, if she isn't in a glass coop!" the hen said, taking a step back. "If the master has bought her and those chicks, there’s going to be trouble. Wow! One of the chicks is bow-legged, and they look really scrawny."

Then she called to her chicks and walked out of the barn.

"Oh no! Oh no!" chuckled the dog; "they all think the same. They really are a full of themselves bunch. Here comes the goose."

The goose walked over to the mirror.

"Well, well! If there isn't a new goose!" {112} she said, "and she is walking toward me. I should be friendly."

Snap! Her beak hit the mirror.

"Oh, you’re in a glass box!" she said. "Are you here to stay?" And she stretched out her neck.

"My, but you have a long neck!" she continued, "and your feathers are nice and smooth. I guess you can’t hear anything in that box."

Then she walked away, nodding goodbye. The other goose, of course, nodded too, and goosey left feeling satisfied.

"She’s not as much of a fool as the others," the cat remarked.

"The peacock is coming," said the dog. "Be quiet."

In walked the peacock. Spotting what he thought was another bird, he fanned out his stunning tail to its full width. He strutted around, but he didn't say a single word.

"Now, what do you think about that?" asked the dog. "Did he realize that he was {113} looking in a mirror, or was that why he wouldn’t talk to another bird?"

"I don't know," said the cat, "but here comes the goat. Hide, fast!"

Billy was pounding across the boards when he suddenly spotted the other goat. He stared at him for a moment. "I'll show him," he said, charging at the mirror with his head lowered.

Bang! Smash! Crash! and Billy jumped back, a very surprised goat.

"Now you’ve really done it," said the horse, who had been watching the whole time from his stall. "All the animals are going to get out and run away."

"What are you talking about?" the dog said, laughing so hard he could barely speak. "There are no animals in there. That's a mirror; you see yourself when you're in front of it."

"Are you really saying that those animals have all been looking at themselves and criticizing their own appearance?" the horse asked, his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

"Of course," said the cat. "Can’t you see that Billy broke the mirror?"

"Well, that’s the best I’ve ever heard," said the horse, laughing, "but I wish I had known that was a mirror before Billy broke it. I’d really like to know how I look."

"You might not have recognized yourself; the others didn't," said the dog.

—F.A. WALKER.

Ali's barbershop.

Morning.

WOODCUTTER: I just brought in a load of wood on my donkey. Do you want to buy it, good barber?

ALI: Well, let me check. Is it good wood?

WOODCUTTER: The best in the country.

ALI: I'll give you five shekels for all the wood on the donkey.

WOODCUTTER: Sounds good. I'll stack the wood by your door.

(Lays wood at doorway.)

Now, good sir, give me the money.

ALI: Hold on, my good friend. I need your wooden pack saddle, too. That was the deal. I said, "All the wood on your donkey." Honestly, the saddle is made of wood.

WOODCUTTER: Who has ever heard of such a deal? Surely you can't be serious! You wouldn't treat a poor woodcutter like this. It's impossible.

ALI: Hand over the saddle, or I’ll have you thrown in jail. And take this—and this—and this!

(Ali hits the woodcutter.)

WOODCUTTER: Ah, what should I do? What should I do? I know. I'll go to the caliph himself.

Caliph's Palace.

One hour later.

COURTIER: My lord, a good woodcutter is at the door and asks for permission to enter your presence.

CALIPH: Let him come in. No one is too poor to be welcomed by me.

(Courtier goes out and comes back with the woodcutter, who kneels and kisses the ground. Then he stands with his arms folded.)

CALIPH: Tell me, my good man, what brought you here? Has someone wronged you?

WOODCUTTER: That's a great injustice, my lord. The wealthy barber Ali bought a load of wood from me. He offered me five shekels for all the wood on my donkey. After I unloaded it, I asked for my payment, but he refused to {118} pay me until I gave him my pack saddle. He claimed the deal included "all the wood on the donkey," arguing that the saddle counts as wood. He threatened to imprison me if I didn’t give up the saddle, then he took it and drove me away with blows.

CALIPH: That's a really strange story. The barber has the law on his side, and yet you have the right on yours. The law must be followed, but—come here and let me whisper something to you.

(The woodcutter listens with a smile and bows deeply before leaving the room.)

Barbershop.

A few days later.

ALI: Ah! here comes my foolish friend the woodcutter. I guess {119} he’s here to argue about the wood. No, he’s smiling.

WOODCUTTER: Good day to you, friend Ali. I have come to ask if you would be so kind as to shave me and a friend from the countryside.

ALI: Oh, yeah, I guess so.

WOODCUTTER: How much will you charge?

One shekel for both.

(To himself.)

The poor guy can’t afford that amount.

WOODCUTTER. Alright. Give me a shave first.

(Ali shaves him.)

ALI: Now that you're shaved, where's your friend?

WOODCUTTER: He's standing outside. He'll come in right away.

(He goes out and comes back with his donkey.)

This is my friend. Shave him.

ALI (in a rage): Shave him! Shave a donkey, really? Is it not enough that I have to stoop to touch you? And then you insult me by asking me to shave your donkey! Get out of here!

Caliph's Palace.

30 minutes later.

CALIPH: So, my friend, did you do what I asked?

WOODCUTTER: Yeah, and Ali wouldn't shave my donkey.

CALIPH (to Courtier): Tell Ali to come to me right away and bring his razors.

(Courtier leaves and comes back with Ali.)

CALIPH: Why did you turn down shaving this man's friend? Wasn’t that part of your deal?

ALI (kissing the ground): It’s true, O caliph, that was the agreement, but who ever had a donkey as a companion before?

CALIPH: That's true, but who ever thought of saying that a pack saddle is part of a load of wood? No, no, it's the woodcutter's turn now. Shave his donkey right away.

(Ali suds up the beast and shaves him in front of the entire court, then sneaks away amidst the laughter of the onlookers.)

CALIPH: Now, my honest woodcutter, here is a bag of gold for you. Always remember that the caliph is happy to hear the complaints of his people, both poor and rich, and will fix their wrongs if he can.

WOODCUTTER: Long live the Caliph!

COURTIERS: Long live the Caliph!

—EASTERN STORY.

—MARY F. BUTTS.

It was Saturday morning. Elizabeth Brown sat by a window in the big kitchen, making a pink dress for little Hope's doll.

On the chair next to her was the doll, but you probably wouldn't think to call it that. It didn't have curly hair or eyes that opened and closed. Back then, no child had toys like ours. Hope's doll was made from a corncob; the face was painted on a piece of linen stretched over a ball of wool at the end of the cob.

Little Hope was taking her morning nap. When Elizabeth finished sewing the last neat stitches, she dressed the doll and placed it on the bed next to the little girl. Hope was so happy when she woke up and saw it! She thought it was the most beautiful doll in the world.

"What are you going to name your doll, Hope?" asked Elizabeth.

"I'll name her after my mom," Hope said. "I'll call her Mary Ellen."

Hope played all afternoon with her doll and was very happy. When the sunset gun went off, she had to stop playing. With the Puritans, the Sabbath started at sunset, and no child could play after they heard the gun.

The little maid kissed her baby and went into the bedroom to find a warm spot for it to stay until the next evening. There lay father's Sunday coat; what warmer place could she find for Mary Ellen than its big pocket?

After breakfast the next day, everyone got ready to go to the meeting. Master Brown filled the small tin foot stove with hot coals from the {125} hearth; then he took his gun from its hook. Back then, no man went anywhere without his gun—not even to church, because the Indians could show up at any time.

Sometimes the sound of a gunshot was the call to worship. More often, a large drum, played on the steps of the meeting house, signaled to the people that it was time to gather.

At the sound of the drum, Master Brown and his wife, along with Elizabeth and Hope, headed to church. From every house in the village, men, women, and children emerged. They were always prepared when the drum started to play, because no one was ever late to the service back then.

Master Brown guided his family to their pew and opened a small door to let them in. The pew was quite similar to a big box with seats along the sides.

The church was cold because there was no fire. The children warmed their fingers and toes by the strange little foot stove their dad had brought from home.

When everyone was seated, the minister climbed the steps to his elevated pulpit. The sermon was always super long—at least three hours. The kids couldn’t grasp what it was all about, and it was really tough for them to sit still and listen quietly.

Elizabeth was four years older than Hope, so she felt like a little woman. She sat up next to her mom and watched the minister most of the time; but sometimes she had to blink hard to stay awake. When she thought she couldn’t let her feet dangle for another minute, she would slide down to the footstool to rest.

Elizabeth often felt embarrassed by Hope, who couldn't sit still for ten minutes. She attempted to pay attention to the sermon but couldn't. When Hope started to fidget a bit, her mother shook her head at her. She stayed still for a few minutes but quickly became restless again.

Presently, she started to feel sleepy and rested her head on her father’s arm for a quick nap. Just then, she noticed something in his pocket. A {127} happy smile spread across Hope's face; she was fully awake now. Sliding her hand into the spacious pocket, she pulled out Mary Ellen and smoothed her wrinkled dress.

Master Brown was focused entirely on the sermon, and even Mistress Brown didn’t notice Hope for a while. When she finally did, what do you think she saw? Hope was standing on the seat, showing her doll to the little girl in the pew behind her.

Oh, how embarrassed her mother was! She quickly pulled her little daughter down and whispered, "Do you want the tithingman to come? Well, sit down and listen." Taking Mary Ellen, she slipped the doll into her muff.

Little Hope sat down and listened. She didn’t even turn around when the kind lady behind them dropped a peppermint over the high-backed pew for her. She was really scared of the tithingman, who was sitting on a high seat. He had a long rod with a hard knob on one end and a squirrel's tail on the other.

When he noticed a woman nodding off during the sermon, he walked over to her pew and tickled her face with the furry end of the rod. She would wake up suddenly and feel, oh! so embarrassed. She would be really thankful that the pew had such high sides to cover her reddening face.

Perhaps you think the boys sitting on the other side of the church were having fun. But there was the tithingman again. When he saw a boy whispering or playing, he would hit him on the head with the knob end of the rod. The {129} whispering would stop immediately, as the rod often caused tears and left a headache.

Besides keeping the boys from playing and the adults from going to sleep, the tithingman had to turn the hourglass. Back then, very few people could afford clocks, but everyone had an hourglass. It took the fine sand exactly one hour to pour from the top part of the glass into the bottom part.

When the sand had completely run out, the tithingman flipped the hourglass over, and the sand started to measure another hour. The hourglass was always turned three times before the minister finished the service. Then the men grabbed their muskets and foot stoves, the women tightly wrapped their long capes around themselves, and everyone headed home.

At sunset, the Puritan Sabbath came to a close. The women took out their knitting and spinning or got ready for Monday's laundry, while the kids could play until bedtime.

—MARGARET PUMPHREY.

More than a hundred years ago, our country was at war with England. George Washington was leading our army. As you know, he and his men were fighting for our country's freedom.

The English army was bigger than ours, and General Washington needed all the soldiers he could gather. The regular troops were with him.

In a small town in Vermont, all the strong, able-bodied men had gone to fight. News arrived that the English and the Americans were about to clash in battle. The Americans needed more troops and called for volunteers. Older men with gray hair and long beards stepped up. Young boys with smooth faces and barely-there facial hair joined in too. There wasn't a single boy in the village over thirteen who didn't volunteer.

Even lame Nahum Prince stepped up. {131} He took out his grandfather's old gun and joined the line with the others. He stood as straight and tall as he could—as a soldier should stand.

Soon the captain walked along the line to check on the volunteers. When he spotted Nahum, he said, "No, no, Nahum, you can't go; you know you can't. Come on, you wouldn't be able to walk a mile. Go home, kid."

Just then, the kind old minister arrived. "Yes, Nahum," he said, "you need to stay home. Who knows, you might find a more important job to do for your country right here?"

And lame Nahum fell out of the line.

Then the volunteers set off, every man and boy in the village except Nahum Prince. Poor Nahum! His heart was heavy.

"What can I do for my country in this small village?" he thought to himself. "Oh, I wish I could be a soldier!"

He walked slowly and sadly toward his home. Just as he passed the blacksmith shop, {132} three horsemen rode up to the door.

"Where's the blacksmith?" one asked.

"He and all the guys have gone to join the army," said Nahum. "There's not a single man or boy in town except for me. I wouldn't be here if I weren't disabled."

"We can't get this horse shod," the rider said to the others. "We won't make it there on time."

"Sure, I can put on a shoe," said Nahum.

"Then it's good you're here," said the man. "Fire up the forge and put on the shoe."

Nahum started the fire, pumped the coals with the bellows, and soon put on the shoe.

"You did a great thing today, my boy," said the rider as he thanked Nahum and rode off.

The following week, the boys came home and talked about a huge battle. They shared how the Americans were about to lose when Colonel Seth Warner, leading a group of soldiers, rode in just in time to turn things around.

Nahum said nothing, but he knew that Colonel Warner wouldn’t have gotten there in time if he hadn’t set that shoe. And it was really Nahum Prince and Colonel Seth Warner who won the battle of Bennington.

Betty lived a really long time ago on a farm in North Carolina. She knew how to tidy up the house, wash the dishes, sew, and cook. She also knew how to knit, spin, and weave.

One day, Betty's dad said, "Let's go to town tomorrow. President Washington is traveling through the South, and someone told me today that he'll be in Salisbury tomorrow."

"Yeah," said Betty's brother Robert, "and our group has been invited to march in the parade. One of the guys is going to give a welcome speech."

"I would like to go," said their mother, "but I can't leave home."

"Oh, yes, you can, Mom," Betty said. "I've stayed here alone many times, and I can do it again tomorrow. You go with Dad, and I'll handle everything."

The next morning, everyone on the property was {135} up before the sun. Robert was so eager to head to town that he could hardly eat any breakfast. Mom was so excited that she forgot to put coffee in the coffee pot.

At last, everyone had gone, and Betty was by herself. "I wish I could see the President," she said, "and I really want to see his amazing coach. Dad says it's nicer than the Governor's. Four men ride in front of it and four behind it. The servants wear white and gold. I wish I could see it all!"

While Betty was talking to herself, she wasn't just sitting around. She washed the dishes and cleaned the house. Then, since it wasn't time to make dinner yet, she sat down on the shaded porch.

"I wonder if General Washington looks like his picture," she said. "Oh, if only I could see him!"

But what was that sound? Betty stood up and shaded her eyes with her hands as she looked down the road. Four horsemen were galloping along. Then came a grand white coach, decorated with gold and pulled by four white horses. Four horsemen followed the coach, and lastly, several Black servants came behind.

All stopped at the gate. A tall, attractive man got out of the coach and walked up the path. Betty felt like she couldn't move or say anything. However, she recalled everything {137} her mother had taught her and made a slight curtsy as the gentleman reached the steps.

"Good morning, my little maid," he said. "I know it's late, but could you please get an old man some breakfast?"

Betty's cheeks turned as pink as the rose by the porch. She did another curtsy and said, "Of course, I will. I’m the only one home right now because Dad, Mom, and Robert went to Salisbury to see the famous Washington. But I’m sure I can whip up some breakfast for you. Dad says I’m a good cook."

"I know you are, and that you’re as lively as you are lovely. Just give me some breakfast, and I promise you’ll see Washington before your dad, mom, or brother Robert does."

"I'll do my best, sir," Betty said.

The other men arrived and settled on the porch, chatting while Betty worked. She grabbed her mom's whitest cloth and the silverware from England, quickly setting the table. {138} She brought out a loaf of fresh bread and a jar of honey. Then, she dashed over to the spring house to get some yellow butter and rich milk. She had fresh eggs laid by her own hens, which she dropped into boiling water. Finally, she sliced up some delicious ham.

When everything was set, Betty went to the porch and welcomed the strangers inside. Her cheeks now matched the color of the red rose by the gate.

The visitors enjoyed all the delicious food Betty had made. As the tall, handsome guy got up to leave, he leaned over and kissed her. "My lovely little cook," he said, "you can tell your brother Robert that you met Washington before he did, and that he kissed you, too."

You might think that Betty did share the story. She shared it with her kids, and they passed it on to their kids, and I’m sharing it with you today.

—Mrs. L.A. McCorkle.

—CHARLES MYALL.

Many hundreds of moons ago, there was a severe drought. The streams and lakes were drying up. Water was so scarce that the animals held a council to figure out what they should do.

"I hope it rains soon to fill the streams and lakes," Great Bear said. "If it doesn’t, all the animals will have to move to a place with more water."

"I know where there's a lot of water," said Wild Goose.

"I do, too," said Wild Duck.

Most of the animals didn't want to leave. "It's fine for the ducks and geese to go," said Wild Cat; "they like to be on the move. It's fine for Great Bear to leave; he can sleep through the winter just as soundly in one hollow tree as in another. But we don't want to abandon our hunting grounds."

"If we go to a new country," said Gray Wolf, "we'll have to create new paths."

"And we’ll need to clear new land," said Big Beaver, who had to chop down the trees when they cleared the land.

All this time, the Rabbit stayed quiet. "Hey, Brother Rabbit," Great Bear asked, "what do you think about this?"

Brother Rabbit didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, and he looked too tired to think about anything.

Great Bear asked again, "What do you think, Brother Rabbit? Should we head to where the ducks and geese found that has plenty of water?"

"Oh," replied Brother Rabbit, "I don't mind the drought. I drink the dew on the grass in the early morning; I don't need to go where there's more water."

And he closed his eyes again.

"Well," said Red Deer, "if there's enough dew for Brother Rabbit every morning, there {142} is definitely enough for us. We don't need to go to another country."

"Those are wise words, my brother," said Brown Terrapin.

All the others said, "Those are wise words, my brother," and the council was finished. The animals were happy because they believed they wouldn’t have to leave their homes.

Days went by, and it still didn’t rain. The animals realized that the dew wasn’t enough to quench their thirst. They were worried that, in the end, they would have to move to another country.

Still, the Rabbit looked sleek and plump. He claimed that he got all the water he needed from the dew on the grass in the early morning.

"You sleep in too much," he said. "By the time you wake up, the sun has dried up the dew."

After that, the animals came out earlier than before, but they couldn’t get enough water {143} from the morning dew. They didn’t understand why the Rabbit looked so healthy.

One day, Gray Wolf said to Wild Cat, "Let’s follow Rabbit and see where he gets all that dew so he’s never thirsty."

That night, they camped in the woods close to Rabbit's hut to keep track of him on the trail. They stayed awake all night, worried they might oversleep.

Very early in the morning, Brother Rabbit came out of his hut and ran quickly down the hill. Wild Cat and Gray Wolf followed as fast and as quietly as they could.

The dew was on the grass and leaves, but Brother Rabbit didn’t stop to gather it. Instead, he ran down the hill and pushed aside a pile of brush. Wild Cat and Gray Wolf were hiding behind some bushes and watching him.

Brother Rabbit drank from a small spring. Then he filled a jar with clear, fresh water, covered the spring with brush again, and headed up the hill to his hut.

Ah! now Gray Wolf and Wild Cat understood why Brother Rabbit didn't care about the drought; and they came up with a plan to get back at him for being so selfish.

They collected tar and resin from the pine trees and used them to create a huge wolf. After placing it near the spring, they hid again in the bushes to see what would happen.

Early the next morning, Brother Rabbit came running down the hill to get more water. He stopped when he saw the tar wolf by his spring.

"What are you doing here, Gray Wolf?" he asked. Of course, there was no answer.

"Does my brother have no ears?" asked Brother Rabbit.

As the wolf remained silent, Brother Rabbit got angry. "Answer me, Gray Wolf," he shouted. But there was no response.

Then Brother Rabbit slapped the tar wolf with his right front paw. It stuck tight, and Brother Rabbit couldn’t pull it away.

"Let me go," he shouted, "or I’ll hit you with the other paw."

He slapped the tar wolf with his left front paw. That also got stuck.

Now Brother Rabbit was really mad. "Let me go, Gray Wolf," he shouted. "Let me go, I said!"

As Grey Wolf wouldn’t let him go, Brother {146} Rabbit kicked the sticky wolf, first with one of his back paws and then with the other. Both were stuck tight, so he was held by all four paws.

Just then, Gray Wolf and Wild Cat emerged from their hiding spot.

"We've caught you, Brother Rabbit," they said. "Now we're going to take you to the council and tell them how you tried to hoard all the water for yourself."

They brought Brother Rabbit to the council house and called for Great Bear and all the other animals. Soon everyone arrived, and the council started. Gray Wolf explained that he had seen Brother Rabbit go to the spring, uncover it, get some water, and then cover it up again.

The animals agreed that Brother Rabbit should be punished, but they couldn't figure out how.

"Burn him alive," said Gray Wolf.

"I’m totally fine with that," Brother Rabbit said, {147} smiling. "Fire is my friend and won't hurt me."

"We might cut off his head," Brown Terrapin said.

"Alright," said the Rabbit calmly. "Go ahead. It won't hurt me, because a better head will grow back."

He said he wasn't afraid of any of the things mentioned.

"Are you not afraid of anything?" Great Bear finally asked. "Is there nothing that can hurt you?"

"There's only one thing I'm scared of," Brother Rabbit said quietly. "I'm scared you'll throw me into the brier patch. Please don’t throw me in the brier patch."

"Let him go in the thorny bushes!" shouted all the animals.

How scared Brother Rabbit looked now!

"Oh, Gray Wolf," he pleaded, "burn me; chop off my head. Do anything else to me, but please don't toss me into the thorny bramble."

The more he pleaded, the quicker Gray Wolf rushed to the thicket. The other animals trailed closely behind. They were all chatting about the tricks Brother Rabbit had pulled on them and how they had never managed to get back at him.

When they reached the edge of the thorny bush, Brother Rabbit begged more than ever.

"Good Wolf," he shouted, "do anything else to me, but don’t toss me into the thorn bushes!"

Gray Wolf laughed and tossed Brother Rabbit deep into the patch.

Brother Rabbit landed on his feet and took off running through the thorns. He called back, "Thanks a lot, good Wolf! You put me right on my path! I grew up in the thicket. I grew up in the thicket!"

He was running so fast that by the time he said this, he was out of view.

—THE INDIAN TAR-BABY STORY.

The rabbit loved to play pranks on the other animals. More than anything, he enjoyed pranking the wolf. Eventually, the wolf got fed up and said he would get back at the rabbit.

One day, he saw the rabbit running through a field.

"Now," said the wolf, "I'm going to get back at you for all the tricks you've pulled on me. I'm going to cut off your ears and use them as spoons to stir my hominy pot. As soon as I sharpen this stone, your ears are coming off!"

While the wolf sharpened the stone, he sang in his rough voice a song something like this:

When he performed,

the rabbit could almost feel the sharp stone cutting into his ears. But he was a brave little rabbit and stayed quiet.

At last, the wolf paused its singing for a moment.

Then the rabbit said, "Brother Wolf, I know a new dance. Don’t you want me to teach it to you?"

"Yeah, when I've cut off your ears," said the wolf.

Then he continued singing,

"After my ears are cut off," said the rabbit, "I can never dance again."

Now the wolf knew that the rabbit could sing and dance better than any other animal, and he really wanted to learn the new {151} dance. He kept sharpening the stone, but he didn’t sing while he worked.

After a while, he asked, "Is the new dance as beautiful as the Snake Dance?"

"Oh, a lot prettier," answered the rabbit.

"Is it as beautiful as the Turkey Dance?"

"Oh, way more beautiful than the Turkey Dance."

"Is it as beautiful as the Eagle Dance?"

"Oh, way cuter than the Eagle Dance."

The wolf asked if the new dance was as beautiful as the other dances he had seen, and the rabbit replied that it was much more beautiful.

This made the wolf happy because he wanted to have a new dance for the green corn festival.

"You can teach me the dance now," he said. "I can chop off your ears later."

"Alright," said the rabbit. "Tap your foot to keep the beat, and watch me dance."

So the wolf stood in the middle of the field, tapping his foot and shaking a rattle while the rabbit danced around him and sang,

Then the rabbit made a circle in the middle of the field. He said to the wolf, "Now, you dance around this circle and sing just like I do."

He made a bigger ring for himself and danced just out of reach of the wolf. The wolf thought this was the best dance he had ever seen. He and the rabbit danced faster and faster and sang louder and louder.

As the rabbit danced, he inched closer and closer to the edge of the field. The wolf was dancing so fast and singing so loudly that he didn’t notice this.

The rabbit kept singing,

At last, Brother Rabbit reached the edge of the field; then he jumped into the blackberry bushes and ran away. The wolf tried to chase him, but he was so dizzy that he couldn't run. And the rabbit got away without having his ears cut off.

—SOUTHERN INDIAN STORY.

—ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

—ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

Once upon a time, there was a massive famine in the land, and Monkey couldn’t find any food. There were no bulbs, no beans, no insects, or anything else to eat.

At last, Monkey thought to himself, "Why should I starve to death here? My uncle Orangutan has plenty of food; I’ll go to him, and he’ll give me something to eat and a place to stay."

So he set out and soon arrived at the place where the orangutan lived. For a long time, Monkey was happy in his new home, but eventually, he heard that there was no longer a famine in his homeland. Then he decided to return.

Before he started, the orangutan gave him a gift of a fiddle and a bow and arrow,

"With this bow and arrow, you can take down any animal," he said. "With this fiddle, you can make anything dance until you tell it to stop."

Thanking his uncle for the gifts, Monkey started his journey home. Along the way, he ran into Brother Wolf.

"What’s up, Brother Wolf?" asked Monkey.

When Wolf told him the news, Monkey asked, "What have you been up to today?"

"Oh," said Wolf, "I've been tracking a deer all morning, but I haven't been able to get close enough to catch it. Now I'm weak with hunger."

"I can help you," said Monkey. "I have a magic bow and arrow. Just show me the deer, and I'll take it down."

When Wolf showed him the deer, Monkey nocked an arrow to the bow and took aim. As soon as the arrow left the bow, the deer dropped dead.

Monkey and Wolf sat down and enjoyed a nice feast. While Wolf ate, he thought about the magic bow and arrow and plotted to take them from Monkey.

"First, I’ll ask for them," he said to himself. {158} "If Monkey doesn’t give them to me, I’ll use force."

When Wolf finished eating, he said to Monkey, "Can you please pass me the bow and arrow?"

"I won't," said Monkey. "They were a gift from my dear uncle; why should I give them to you?"

"Alright," said Wolf. "I'm stronger than you, and I'll take them by force."

Wolf was just about to grab the bow and arrow from Monkey when Jackal showed up. Then Wolf came up with a new plan.

He shouted to Jackal, "Help! Help! Monkey stole my magic bow and arrow!"

Jackal ran over to them. Wolf shared his side of the story, and Monkey shared his.

"I can't believe either of you," said Jackal. "Let's take this issue to the court. There, Lion, Tiger, and the other animals will listen to both of you; maybe they can figure out who the magic bow and arrow really belong to. To stop you two from fighting, I should probably hold onto the bow and arrow."

Monkey gave them to Jackal, and all three headed to court. When they arrived, Lion was sitting on the throne. The other animals of the jungle were gathered around.

Monkey told his story first. Standing in front of the throne, he made a low bow and said, "The great famine, my lord, forced me out of my country, and I had to seek refuge with my uncle. When I started my journey home, he gave me this bow and arrow. Finding Wolf nearly starving, I shot a deer for him. Instead of being grateful for the food, he tried to steal the bow and arrow from me. I am here to ask that you give them back."

"He isn't telling the truth," shouted Wolf.

Then Jackal said, "I think the bow and arrow belong to Wolf; he and Monkey were fighting over them when I arrived. They decided to let you settle it, King Lion. I’m sure you’ll make sure justice is served."

Wolf looked really innocent and didn’t say anything.

King Lion stood up and asked, "What do you think? Who do the bow and arrow belong to?"

"To Wolf!" they all shouted.

"Stealing is a crime that needs to be punished," said King Lion. "What should we do?"

"Let Monkey be hanged," they all shouted.

Monkey still had his magic fiddle. Holding it in his hand, he made a deep bow and said: {161} "Please allow me to play a tune on my fiddle before I'm hanged, O King."

Now, all the animals loved a cheerful song, and knowing that Monkey was an excellent musician, they shouted, "Let him play."

Monkey set the fiddle under his chin, drew the bow across the strings, and started playing "Cockcrow." This was a popular tune with the court. At the first notes, everyone nodded their heads to the beat of the music. As Monkey continued to play, the entire court began to dance.

Round and round they spun like a whirlwind. Again and again, the tune of "Cockcrow" played, getting quicker and quicker. The dancers whirled faster and faster until one by one, they collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

Monkey saw none of this. With his eyes closed and his head resting gently against the fiddle, he played continuously, keeping time with his foot.

Wolf was the first to shout, "Please stop, Cousin Monkey. For the love of everything, stop."

But Monkey didn’t seem to hear him. Over and over again, the magical notes of "Cockcrow" rang out.

King Lion had gone round and round with his young wife so many times that both were ready to drop. At last, as he passed Monkey, he roared, "Stop, ape! My whole kingdom is yours if you will just stop playing."

"I don’t want it," said Monkey. "Make Wolf admit that he tried to steal my bow and arrow. Then I’ll stop playing."

"I confess! I confess!" panted Wolf, who was about to collapse.

"Good," shouted King Lion, as the music came to an end. "Monkey is innocent. Let him have his bow and arrow."

"Punish the Wolf!" cried the animals.

So Wolf was thoroughly beaten and kicked out of the court. Then Monkey left happily, taking his magic gifts with him.

—African Story.

There were once two brothers who went out to try to make their fortune. They squandered their time and money on all kinds of silly things, and before long they were almost broke.

After the two brothers had been gone for a while, their younger brother, who had always been seen as the family's fool, decided to go out and find his fortune.

One day, while he was walking through a village far from home, he ran into his two brothers.

"Where are you headed?" they asked.

"I’m going to find my fortune," he replied.

"Ha, ha! How silly you are!" they shouted. "With all our cleverness and knowledge, we haven't been able to make our fortune. It's foolish of you to even try." And they laughed and mocked him.

Nevertheless, the three brothers chose to travel together. As they continued on their journey, they {164} noticed a large ant hill by the side of the road. The two older brothers were about to destroy it when the simple one said, "Leave the little ants alone. I won’t let you bother them."

They continued on their journey until they reached a pond where two ducks were swimming. The two older brothers were about to catch them, when the simple-minded one said, "Leave them alone. I won’t let you kill them."

Soon the three arrived at a tree with a wild bee's nest in its trunk. The two older brothers wanted to steal the honey. They started to make a fire under the tree to smoke out the bees. The simpleton said, "Leave the poor bees alone. I won't let you take their honey."

At last, the three brothers arrived at a castle that seemed completely frozen in time. There wasn't a single person in sight. They strolled down the large, open hall, but still, they saw no one.

"The castle has to be enchanted," the brothers said to each other.

After going through many rooms, they arrived at a door with three locks. In the center of the door was a small grate that allowed them to see into the room beyond.

They saw a small man dressed in gray sitting at a table. They called out to him twice, but he didn’t respond. They called again a third time. Then he got up, unlocked the three locks, and came out.

He didn't say a word but guided them to a table where a feast was laid out. After they had eaten and drank as much as they wanted, the old man showed each of them to a bedroom. They got a good night's rest there.

The next morning, the little gray man came to the oldest brother and signaled for him to follow. He took him to a room that had a stone table, and on the table lay three stone tablets.

On the table by the tablets, it said:

"This castle is under a spell. Before the spell can be lifted, three tasks must be completed. The person who completes these three tasks will marry the youngest and most cherished of the three princesses who are now sleeping in the castle."

When the oldest brother read this, the old man handed him the first tablet. It had the following written on it:

"In the forest, tucked away under the thick moss, are the pearls that belonged to the princesses. There are a thousand of them. They must be collected by sunset. If even one pearl is missing, then anyone who has searched for them will be turned to stone."

The oldest brother searched all day long, but by sunset, he had only found a hundred pearls. So, he turned to stone.

The next day, the second brother gave it a shot, but by sunset he had only found two hundred pearls. So, he was turned to stone as well.

Then it was the simpleton's turn. He searched all day among the moss, but he didn’t do any better than his brothers. Finally, he sat down on a stone and started to cry.

As he sat there, the king of the ants, whose life he had once saved, arrived with five thousand ants. Before long, the tiny creatures had located every single pearl and stacked them in a pile.

The little gray man then handed the simpleton the second tablet. On it was written the second task:

"The key that unlocks the room where the princesses are sleeping is at the bottom of the lake. Whoever has completed the first task must retrieve the key."

When the fool arrived at the lake, the ducks he had saved were swimming on it. They immediately dove down into the depths and brought up the key.

The simpleton showed the key to the little gray man, who then gave him the third tablet. On it was written the third task:

"The one who has collected the pearls and discovered the key to the chamber can now marry the youngest and beloved princess. However, he must first identify which one she is. The princesses look exactly the same, but there is one difference. Before they went to sleep, the eldest had sugar, the second had syrup, and the youngest had honey."

The fool put down the tablet with a sigh. "How can I figure out which princess ate the honey?" he wondered.

However, he inserted the key he had found into the lock and opened the door. Inside the room, the three princesses were lying down. Ah, which one was the youngest?

Just then, the queen bee flew in through the window and tasted the lips of all three. When she reached the lips that had sipped the honey, she lingered there. At that moment, the young man realized that this was the youngest and dearest princess.

So the enchantment was finally broken. The sleepers woke up, and those who had been turned to stone came back to life. The simple guy married the youngest and most beloved princess and became king after her father's death. His two brothers, who now regretted their actions, married the other two princesses and lived happily ever after.

—GRIMM.

—GABRIEL SETOUN.

Once upon a time, there was a king and queen who were very unhappy because they had no children. But finally, a little girl was born, and their sadness turned into joy. All the bells in the kingdom rang to announce the happy news.

The king hosted a christening party so magnificent that nothing like it had ever been seen before. He invited all the fairies he could find in the kingdom—there were seven of them—to attend the christening as godmothers. He hoped that each one would bestow a wonderful gift upon the princess.

When the christening was finished, the feast began. In front of each fairy was a plate with a spoon, a knife, and a fork—all made of pure gold. But just as the fairies were about to sit down at the table, a very old fairy who hadn’t been invited entered the hall. She had left the kingdom fifty years {173} ago and hadn’t been seen or heard from until that moment.

The king immediately ordered a plate to be brought for her, but he couldn't provide a gold one like the others had. This upset the old fairy, and she sat there grumbling to herself.

Her angry threats were overheard by a young fairy who was sitting nearby. This kind godmother, worried that the old fairy might give the child an unfortunate gift, hid behind a curtain. She did this because she wanted to be the last to speak and maybe even change the old fairy's gift.

At the end of the feast, the youngest fairy stepped up and said, "The princess will be the most beautiful woman in the world."

The second person said,

"She will have a temperament as sweet as an angel."

The third one said,

"She will have a wonderful grace in everything she does or says."

The fourth one said,

"She will sing like a nightingale."

The fifth one said,

"She will dance like a flower in the breeze."

The sixth one said,

"She will play music like nothing ever heard on earth."

Then it was the old fairy's turn. Shaking her head in anger, she said,

"When the princess turns seventeen, she will prick her finger on a spindle, and—she—will—die!"

At this, all the guests shook with fear, and many started to cry. The king and queen cried the hardest of all.

Just then, the wise young fairy stepped out from behind the curtain and said, "Don’t be sad, King and Queen. Your daughter won’t die. I can't change what my older sister has done; the princess will indeed prick her finger on the spindle, but she won't die. She’ll fall into a deep sleep that will last a hundred years. After that, a prince will come and wake her up."

Suddenly, all the fairies disappeared.

The king, wanting to protect his child from this misfortune, ordered that all spindles be burned. They did this, but it was all for nothing.

One day when the princess was seventeen, the king and queen left her alone in the castle. She explored the palace and eventually came to a small room at the top of a tower. There, an old woman—so old and deaf that she had never heard of the king's command—was sitting and spinning.

"What are you doing, dear old woman?" asked the princess.

"I'm dizzy, my lovely child."

"Ah," said the princess. "How do you do that? Let me see if I can spin too."

She had just picked up the spindle when, somehow, it pricked her finger. The princess collapsed on the floor. The old woman called for help, and people rushed in from all directions, but nothing could be done.

When the good young fairy heard the news, she quickly made her way to the castle. She knew that the princess would have to sleep for a hundred years and would be scared if she woke up all alone. So the fairy tapped her magic wand on everyone in the palace except the king and the queen. Ladies, gentlemen, pages, waiting maids, footmen, grooms in the stable, and even the horses—she touched them all. They all fell asleep right where they were when she touched them. Some of the gentlemen were bowing to the ladies, the ladies were busy embroidering, the grooms were currying their horses, and the cook was scolding the kitchen boy.

The king and queen left the castle, instructing that no one should approach it. However, this order wasn’t necessary. Soon, a dense forest grew around the castle that neither people nor animals could get through.

A lot can change in a hundred years. The king had no other child, and when he died, his throne went to another royal family. Even the tale of the sleeping princess was nearly forgotten.

One day, the son of the reigning king went hunting and spotted towers rising above a dense forest. He asked what they were, but nobody could tell him.

At last, an old peasant was found who said, "Your highness, fifty years ago my father told me that there’s a castle in the woods where a princess sleeps—the most beautiful princess who ever lived. They said she must sleep there for a hundred years until she’s awakened by a prince."

At this, the young prince decided to find out the truth for himself. He jumped off his horse and started to push his way through the forest. To his surprise, the stiff branches parted for him, then closed again, not letting any of his companions follow.

A stunning palace stood in front of him. In the courtyard, the prince saw horses and men who looked lifeless. But he wasn’t scared and confidently entered the palace. There were guards as still as stone, gentlemen {179} and ladies, pages and footmen, some standing, some sitting, but all like statues.

At last, the prince arrived at a golden room, where he saw on a bed the most beautiful sight anyone could ever see—a princess around seventeen years old who looked like she had just fallen asleep. Shaking with emotion, the prince knelt beside her and woke her with a kiss. And just like that, the spell was broken.

The princess looked at him with curious eyes and said, "Is it really you, my prince? I’ve waited a long time for you."

So happy were the two that they talked for hours on end. Meanwhile, everyone in the palace woke up and returned to what they were doing when they fell asleep. The gentlemen continued bowing to the ladies, and the ladies resumed their embroidery. The grooms kept currying their horses, the cook continued scolding the kitchen boy, and the servants started serving dinner. Then the head lady-in-waiting, who was about to faint from hunger, told the princess out loud that dinner was ready.

The prince took the princess's hand, and they all went into the big hall for dinner. That evening, the prince and princess got married. The next day, the prince brought his bride to his father's palace, and there they lived happily ever after.

—GRIMM.

It was summer. The countryside looked beautiful at the moment. The cornfields were swaying in yellow, the wheat was golden, the oats were still green, and the hay was piled up in the meadows. Beyond the fields, you could see vast forests and shimmering ponds.

In the brightest spot stood an old farmhouse, surrounded by deep canals. Large burdocks grew at the water's edge. It was just as wild there as in the thickest woods, and in this cozy spot sat a duck on her nest, waiting for her eggs to hatch.

At last, one eggshell after another started to crack. From each little egg came "Cheep! cheep!" and then a little duckling's head.

"Quack! quack!" said the duck; and all the babies quacked too. Then they looked all around. The mother let them look as much as they wanted, because green is good for the eyes.

"Wow, the world is so big!" said all the little ducklings.

"Do you think this is everything in the world?" asked the mother. "It goes on for quite a distance beyond the garden and into the parson's field, but I’ve never gone that far. I hope you’re all out. No, not all of you; that big egg is still unbroken. I'm really tired of sitting here for so long." Then the duck sat down again.

"Well, how's it going?" asked an old duck who had come to pay her a visit.

"There’s one big egg that’s taking forever to hatch," replied the mother. "But you should see the ducklings. They’re the best I’ve ever seen; they all look just like their dad."

"Let me see the egg that won't hatch," said the old duck. "I can guarantee it's a turkey's egg. I was fooled like that once. Oh, you're going to have a lot of trouble because a turkey won't go into the {183} water. Yes, that's definitely a turkey's egg. Just leave it be and teach the other kids how to swim."

"No, I will sit on it a bit longer," said the mother duck.

"Suit yourself," said the old duck, and she walked away.

At last, the big egg cracked. "Cheep! cheep!" said the little one, and fell out. How big it was! How ugly it was!

"I wonder if it could be a baby turkey," said the mother. "Well, we'll find out when we go to the pond. It has to go into the water, even if I have to push it in myself."

Next day, the mother duck and all her little ones went down to the water. Splash! She jumped in, and all the ducklings followed. They swam around easily, and the ugly duckling swam with them.

"No, it's not a turkey," said the mother duck. "Look how well he can use his legs. He's my own child! And he’s not that ugly either."

Then she took her family to the duck yard. As they walked, she told the ducklings how to behave.

"Stay close to me, so no one steps on you," she said. "Come on; don’t turn your toes in. A well-mannered duck turns its toes out, just like your dad and mom. Lower your heads in front of that old duck over there. She’s the most distinguished duck here. You can tell by the red rag around her leg. That’s a big honor, the highest honor a duck can have. It means the owner doesn’t want to lose her. Now bend your necks and say 'Quack!'"

They did that, but the other ducks didn’t seem happy to see them.

"Look!" they shouted. "Here comes another group, as if there weren't enough of us already. And oh man, that big one is so ugly! We can't take him."

Then one of the ducks flew at the ugly duckling and bit him on the neck.

"Leave him alone," said the mother; "he's not doing any harm."

"Maybe not," said the duck who had bitten the poor duckling, "but he's too ugly to stay here. He has to be pushed out."

"Those kids are really cute," said the old duck with the rag around her leg. "They're all adorable except for that one. What a shame!"

"Yes," replied the mother duck, "he isn't handsome, but he's good-natured, and he {186} swims just as well as the others. I believe he'll grow up to be attractive. Maybe he just stayed in the egg for too long."

"Well, make yourselves at home," said the old duck. "If you find an eel's head, you can bring it to me."

And they made themselves at home—all except for the poor ugly duckling. His life was completely miserable. The ducks pecked at him, and the hens bullied him. It was like that on the first day, and it just got worse each day.

The poor duckling was really unhappy. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, so he ran away. As he jumped over the fence, he startled the little birds in the bushes.

"That's because I'm so ugly," thought the duckling.

He flew on until he reached a moor where some wild ducks lived. They laughed at him and swam away.

Some wild geese flew by and laughed at the duckling, too. Just then, some guns {187} went bang! bang! The hunters were everywhere. The hunting dogs jumped splash! into the swamp, and one rushed close to the duckling. The dog looked at him and kept going.

"Well, I can be thankful for that," he sighed. "I’m so ugly that even the dog won’t bite me."

When everything was quiet, the duckling set off again. A storm was raging, and he found shelter in a rundown hut. An old woman lived there with her cat and her hen. The old woman couldn't see well, and she thought he was a fat duck. She kept him for three weeks, hoping to get some duck eggs, but the duckling didn't lay any.

After a while, the fresh air and sunshine poured in through the open door, and the duckling yearned to be out on the water. The cat and the hen laughed when he shared his wish.

"You must be out of your mind," said the hen. "I don’t want to swim. The cat doesn’t want to, and I’m sure our owner doesn’t either."

"You don’t get me," said the duckling. "I’m going out into the big world."

"Yeah, go ahead," said the hen.

And the duckling left. He swam in the water and dove, but all the animals still ignored him because he was so ugly; and the poor duckling felt really lonely.

Now winter arrived, and it quickly got really cold. Snow and sleet fell, and the ugly duckling had a really tough time.

One evening, a whole flock of beautiful white birds flew out of the bushes. They were swans. They made a strange sound, and as they spread their large wings, they flew off to warmer places and open lakes.

The ugly duckling felt really out of place, and he let out such a loud cry that it scared him. He couldn’t stop thinking about those beautiful, happy birds. He didn’t know where they had gone, but he wished he could have gone with them.

The winter got really cold—super cold. The duckling swam around in the water to avoid freezing, but every night the space where he swam got smaller and smaller. Eventually, he was stuck fast in the ice.

Early the next morning, a farmer found the duckling and brought him to the farmhouse. There, in a warm room, the duckling started to feel better. The children wanted to play with him, but he was scared of them.

In his panic, he flapped into the milk container, splattering milk everywhere in the room. The woman clapped her hands at him, which made him even more scared. He darted into the butter tub and then into the flour barrel.

How did he look then! The kids laughed and shouted. The woman chased him with the fire tongs. The door was wide open, and the duckling slipped out into the snow.

It was a harsh, brutal winter, and he almost froze. Finally, the warm sun started to shine, and the larks began to sing. The duckling flapped {190} his wings and realized they were strong. He took off and flew over the meadows and fields.

Soon he found himself in a beautiful garden where the apple trees were in full bloom, and the long branches of the willow trees hung over the shores of the lake. Right in front of him, he saw three gorgeous white swans gliding effortlessly across the water.

"I'll soar with those beautiful birds," he said. "They'll probably kill me because I'm so ugly, but it doesn't matter. It's better to be killed by them than to be bitten by the ducks and pecked by the hens."

So he dove into the water and swam toward the beautiful birds. They noticed the duckling and glided down toward him. He lowered his head and said, "End my life, oh, end my life."

But what did he see in the clear water? It was his own reflection, and suddenly he wasn’t a clumsy dark-gray bird anymore, but a—swan, a beautiful white swan. It doesn’t matter if you were born in a duck yard, if you’ve only spent {191} time in a swan's egg. The other swans swam around him to welcome him.

Some little kids came into the garden with corn and other grains that they tossed into the water. The smallest one exclaimed, "Oh, look! There's a new swan, and it's more beautiful than any of the others."

The ugly duckling was shy and initially hid his head under his wing. Then he felt so happy that he lifted his neck and said, "I never imagined I could be this happy when I was an ugly duckling."

—HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

I was born a blackbird in a leafy thicket by a meadow. My dad took great care of our family, pecking around all day for insects. He brought them home to my mom, holding them by the tail so he wouldn't crush them. He had a lovely voice, too, and every evening he sang beautiful songs.

I should have been happy, but I wasn’t. I ate very little and felt weak; from the start, I was different from my siblings. They had shiny black feathers, while mine were a dull gray. This made my dad upset every time he saw them.

When I molted for the first time, he watched me closely. While the feathers were coming off and I was bare, he was kind; but my new feathers drove him crazy with anger. I wasn’t surprised. I was no longer even gray; I had turned snow white. {193} I was a white blackbird! Had anything like this ever happened in a blackbird family before?

It really upset me to see my dad so bothered because of me. But it's tough to stay down for long, and one bright spring day I opened my mouth to sing. As soon as I hit the first note, my dad shot up into the air like a firework.

"What do I hear?" he exclaimed. "Is that how a blackbird sings? Do I sing that way?"

"I whistle as best as I can," I replied.

"That's not how we whistle in my family," my dad said. "We've been whistling for a really long time and know how to do it. It's not just about being white; you have to make that awful sound. The truth is, you're not a blackbird."

"I will leave home," I replied, choking back tears. "I will go far away where I can survive on earthworms and spiders."

"Do whatever you want," my dad said. "You're not a blackbird."

I took off early the next morning and was lucky enough to find shelter under an old gutter. It rained heavily that night. Just as I was about to go to bed, a very wet bird flew in and sat down next to me. His feathers were grayish like mine, but he was much bigger than me.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "I seem to be a blackbird, but I'm actually white."

"I am the best bird in the world," he said. "I’m a carrier pigeon and I deliver messages."

Then I noticed that a travel bag was hanging from his neck.

"Maybe I'm a pigeon," I said, "since I'm not a blackbird."

"No," he replied, "someone like you could never be a pigeon."

The next morning, the pigeon jumped out of the gutter and flew away as fast as the wind. {195} Since I was feeling lonely, I decided to follow him. He flew faster and faster, but I managed to keep up for quite a while. Finally, I ran out of energy and collapsed in a meadow.

I was shocked by the fall. When I came to my senses, two birds were standing nearby looking at me. One was a delicate little magpie; the other was a gentle-eyed turtle dove. The magpie kindly offered me some berries she had picked.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"A blackbird or a pigeon," I said with sadness. "I can't tell which."

"Are you serious?" she exclaimed. "You’re such a magpie."