Category: Autumn Stories

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Posted on July 13, 2016September 2, 2016 by Sea

Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 3-4 Year Olds)

Illustration -Arthur Rackham

Once upon a time there were Three Bears, who lived together in a house of their own, in a wood. One of them was a Little, Small Wee Bear; and one was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great, Huge Bear. They had each a pot for their porridge, a little pot for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized pot for the Middle Bear, and a great pot for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had each a chair to sit in; a little chair for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the Middle Bear; and a great chair for the Great, Huge Bear. And they had each a bed to sleep in; a little bed for the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and a middle-sized bed for the Middle Bear; and a great bed for the Great, Huge Bear.

One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their porridge-pots, they walked out into the wood while the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their mouths, by beginning too soon to eat it. And while they were walking, a little old Woman came to the house. She could not have been a good, honest old Woman; for first she looked in at the window, and then she peeped in at the keyhole; and seeing nobody in the house, she lifted the latch. The door was not fastened, because the Bears were good Bears, who did nobody any harm, and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So the little old Woman opened the door, and went in; and well pleased she was when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a good little old Woman, she would have waited till the Bears came home, and then, perhaps, they would have asked her to breakfast; for they were good Bears–a little rough or so, as the manner of Bears is, but for all that very good-natured and hospitable. But she was an impudent, bad old Woman, and set about helping herself.

So first she tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was too hot for her; and she said a bad word about that. And then she tasted the porridge of the Middle Bear, and that was too cold for her; and she said a bad word about that too. And then she went to the porridge of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot, nor too cold, but just right; and she liked it so well, that she ate it all up: but the naughty old Woman said a bad word about the little porridge-pot, because it did not hold enough for her.

Then the little old Woman sate down in the chair of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was too hard for her. And then she sate down in the chair of the Middle Bear, and that was too soft for her. And then she sate down in the chair of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and that was neither too hard, nor too soft, but just right. So she seated herself in it, and there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down she came, plump upon the ground. And the naughty old Woman said a wicked word about that too.
Then the little old Woman went upstairs into the bed-chamber in which the three Bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great, Huge Bear; but that was too high at the head for her. And next she lay down upon the bed of the Middle Bear; and that was too high at the foot for her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little, Small, Wee Bear; and that was neither too high at the head, nor at the foot, but just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there till she fell fast asleep.
By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool enough; so they came home to breakfast. Now the little old Woman had left the spoon of the Great, Huge Bear, standing in his porridge.

“Somebody has been at my porridge!”
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice. And when the Middle Bear looked at his, he saw that the spoon was standing in it too. They were wooden spoons; if they had been silver ones, the naughty old Woman would have put them in her pocket.
“Somebody has been at my porridge!”
said the Middle Bear in his middle voice.
Then the Little, Small, Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon in the porridge-pot, but the porridge was all gone.
“Somebody has been at my porridge, and has eaten it all up!”
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
Upon this the Three Bears, seeing that some one had entered their house, and eaten up the Little, Small, Wee Bear’s breakfast, began to look about them. Now the little old Woman had not put the hard cushion straight when she rose from the chair of the Great, Huge Bear.

“Somebody has been sitting in my chair!”
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And the little old Woman had squatted down the soft cushion of the Middle Bear.
“Somebody has been sitting in my chair!”
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.

And you know what the little old Woman had done to the third chair.
“Somebody has been sitting in my chair and has sate the bottom out of it!”
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.
Then the Three Bears thought it necessary that they should make farther search; so they went upstairs into their bedchamber. Now the little old Woman had pulled the pillow of the Great, Huge Bear, out of its place.

“Somebody has been lying in my bed!”
said the Great, Huge Bear, in his great, rough, gruff voice.
And the little old Woman had pulled the bolster of the Middle Bear out of its place.

“Somebody has been lying in my bed!”
said the Middle Bear, in his middle voice.

And when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was the bolster in its place; and the pillow in its place upon the bolster; and upon the pillow was the little old Woman’s ugly, dirty head,–which was not in its place, for she had no business there.

“Somebody has been lying in my bed,–and here she is!”
said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.

The little old Woman had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff voice of the Great, Huge Bear; but she was so fast asleep that it was no more to her than the roaring of wind, or the rumbling of thunder. And she had heard the middle voice, of the Middle Bear, but it was only as if she had heard some one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little, small, wee voice of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, it was so sharp, and so shrill, that it awakened her at once. Up she started; and when she saw the Three Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself out at the other, and ran to the window. Now the window was open, because the Bears, like good, tidy Bears, as they were, always opened their bedchamber window when they got up in the morning. Out the little old Woman jumped. The Three Bears never saw anything more of her.

The Turnip

Posted on July 13, 2016September 7, 2016 by Sea

The Turnip
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 3-4 Year olds)
*Audio file at the end

Screen Shot 2014-07-23 at 2.34.42 PM

There were once two brothers who both served as soldiers, one of
them was rich, and the other poor. Then the poor one, to escape
from his poverty, doffed his soldier’s coat, and turned farmer.
He dug and hoed his bit of land, and sowed it with turnip-seed.
The seed came up, and one turnip grew there which became large and
strong, and visibly grew bigger and bigger, and seemed as if it
would never stop growing, so that it might have been called the
princess of turnips, for never was such an one seen before, and
never will such an one be seen again.
At length it was so enormous that by itself it filled a whole
cart, and two oxen were required to draw it, and the farmer had
not the least idea what he was to do with the turnip, or whether
it would be a fortune to him or a misfortune. At last he thought,
if you sell it, what will you get for it that is of any importance,
and if you eat it yourself, why, the small turnips would do you
just as much good. It would be better to take it to the king, and
make him a present of it.
So he placed it on a cart, harnessed two oxen, took it to the
palace, and presented it to the king. What strange thing is
this, said the king. Many wonderful things have come before my
eyes, but never such a monster as this. From what seed can this
have sprung, or are you a favorite of good fortune and have met
with it by chance. Ah, no, said the farmer, no favorite
am I. I am a poor soldier, who because he could no longer
support himself hung his soldier’s coat on a nail and took to
farming land. I have a brother who is rich and well known to you,
lord king, but I, because I have nothing, am forgotten by everyone.
Then the king felt compassion for him, and said, you shall be
raised from your poverty, and shall have such gifts from me that
you shall be equal to your rich brother. Then he bestowed
on him much gold, and lands, and meadows, and herds, and made him
immensely rich, so that the wealth of the other brother could
not be compared with his. When the rich brother heard what the
poor one had gained for himself with one single turnip, he
envied him, and thought in every way how he also could come by a
similar piece of luck. He set about it in a much more cunning
way, however, and took gold and horses and carried them to the
king, and made certain the king would give him a much larger
present in return. If his brother had got so much for one
turnip, what would he not carry away with him in return for such
beautiful things as these. The king accepted his present, and
said he had nothing to give him in return that was more rare and
excellent than the great turnip. So the rich man was obliged to
put his brother’s turnip in a cart and have it taken to his home.
There, he did not know on whom to vent his rage and anger, until
bad thoughts came to him, and he resolved to kill his brother.
He hired murderers, who were to lie in ambush, and then he went
to his brother and said, dear brother, I know of a hidden
treasure, we will dig it up together, and divide it between us.
The other agreed to this, and accompanied him without suspicion.
While they were on their way the murderers fell on him, bound
him, and would have hanged him to a tree. But just as they were
doing this, loud singing and the sound of a horse’s feet were
heard in the distance. On this their hearts were filled with
terror, and they pushed their prisoner hastily into the sack, hung
it on a branch, and took to flight. He, however, worked up there
until he had made a hole in the sack through which he could put his
head. The man who was coming by was no other than a traveling
student, a young fellow who rode on his way through the wood
joyously singing his song. When he who was aloft saw that someone
was passing below him, he cried, good day. You have come at
a lucky moment. The student looked round on every side, but did
not know whence the voice came. At last he said, who calls
me. Then an answer came from the top of the tree, raise your
eyes, here I sit aloft in the sack of wisdom. In a short time
have I learnt great things, compared with this all schools are
a jest, in a very short time I shall have learnt everything, and
shall descend wiser than all other men. I understand the stars,
and the tracks of the winds, the sand of the sea, the healing of
illness, and the virtues of all herbs, birds and stones. If
you were once within it you would feel what noble things issue
forth from the sack of knowledge.
The student, when he heard all this, was astonished, and said,
blessed be the hour in which I have found you. May not I also
enter the sack for a while. He who was above replied as if
unwillingly, for a short time I will let you get into it, if
you reward me and give me good words, but you must wait an hour
longer, for one thing remains which I must learn before I do it.
When the student had waited a while he became impatient, and begged
to be allowed to get in at once, his thirst for knowledge was
so very great. So he who was above pretended
at last to yield, and said, in order that I may come forth from
the house of knowledge you must let it down by the rope, and
then you shall enter it. So the student let the sack down,
untied it, and set him free, and then cried, now draw me up at
once, and was about to get into the sack. Halt, said the other,
that won’t do, and took him by the head and put him upside down
into the sack, fastened it, and drew the disciple of wisdom up
the tree by the rope. Then he swung him in the air and said, how
goes it with you, my dear fellow. Behold, already you feel wisdom
coming, and you are gaining valuable experience. Keep perfectly
quiet until you become wiser. Thereupon he mounted the student’s
horse and rode away, but in an hour’s time sent someone to let
the student out again.

Listen to the audio from LibriVox here:

The Little Red Hen

Posted on July 13, 2016October 24, 2016 by Sea

The little red Hen
Retold by FLORENCE WHITE WILLIAMS
(Ideal for 4 Year Olds)

little_red_hen-1

A Little Red Hen lived in a barnyard. She spent almost all of her time
walking about the barnyard in her picketty-pecketty fashion,
scratching everywhere for worms.

She dearly loved fat, delicious worms and felt they were absolutely
necessary to the health of her children. As often as she found a worm
she would call “Chuck-chuck-chuck!” to her chickies.

When they were gathered about her, she would distribute choice morsels
of her tid-bit. A busy little body was she!

A cat usually napped lazily in the barn door, not even bothering
herself to scare the rat who ran here and there as he pleased. And as
for the pig who lived in the sty–he did not care what happened so
long as he could eat and grow fat.

One day the Little Red Hen found a Seed. It was a Wheat Seed, but the
Little Red Hen was so accustomed to bugs and worms that she supposed
this to be some new and perhaps very delicious kind of meat. She bit
it gently and found that it resembled a worm in no way whatsoever as
to taste although because it was long and slender, a Little Red Hen
might easily be fooled by its appearance.

Carrying it about, she made many inquiries as to what it might be. She
found it was a Wheat Seed and that, if planted, it would grow up and
when ripe it could be made into flour and then into bread.

When she discovered that, she knew it ought to be planted. She was so
busy hunting food for herself and her family that, naturally, she
thought she ought not to take time to plant it.

So she thought of the Pig–upon whom time must hang heavily and of the
Cat who had nothing to do, and of the great fat Rat with his idle
hours, and she called loudly:

“Who will plant the Seed?”

But the Pig said, “Not I,” and the Cat said, “Not I,” and the Rat
said, “Not I.”

“Well, then,” said the Little Red Hen, “I will.”

And she did.

Then she went on with her daily duties through the long summer days,
scratching for worms and feeding her chicks, while the Pig grew fat,
and the Cat grew fat, and the Rat grew fat, and the Wheat grew tall
and ready for harvest.

So one day the Little Red Hen chanced to notice how large the Wheat
was and that the grain was ripe, so she ran about calling briskly:
“Who will cut the Wheat?”

The Pig said, “Not I,” the Cat said, “Not I,” and the Rat said, “Not
I.”

“Well, then,” said the Little Red Hen, “I will.”

And she did.

She got the sickle from among the farmer’s tools in the barn and
proceeded to cut off all of the big plant of Wheat.

On the ground lay the nicely cut Wheat, ready to be gathered and
threshed, but the newest and yellowest and downiest of Mrs. Hen’s
chicks set up a “peep-peep-peeping” in their most vigorous fashion,
proclaiming to the world at large, but most particularly to their
mother, that she was neglecting them.

Poor Little Red Hen! She felt quite bewildered and hardly knew where
to turn.

Her attention was sorely divided between her duty to her children and
her duty to the Wheat, for which she felt responsible.

So, again, in a very hopeful tone, she called out, “Who will thresh
the Wheat?”

But the Pig, with a grunt, said, “Not I,”
and the Cat, with a meow, said, “Not I,” and
the Rat, with a squeak, said, “Not I.”

So the Little Red Hen, looking, it must be admitted, rather
discouraged, said, “Well, I will, then.”

And she did.

Of course, she had to feed her babies first, though, and when she had
gotten them all to sleep for their afternoon nap, she went out and
threshed the Wheat. Then she called out: “Who will carry the Wheat to
the mill to be ground?”

Turning their backs with snippy glee,
that Pig said, “Not I,”

and that Cat said, “Not I,” and that Rat said, “Not I.”

So the good Little Red Hen could do nothing but say, “I will then.”
And she did.

Carrying the sack of Wheat, she trudged off to the distant mill. There
she ordered the Wheat ground into beautiful white flour. When the
miller brought her the flour she walked slowly back all the way to her
own barnyard in her own picketty-pecketty fashion.

She even managed, in spite of her load, to catch a nice juicy worm now
and then and had one left for the babies when she reached them. Those
cunning little fluff-balls were _so_ glad to see their mother. For the
first time, they really appreciated her.

After this really strenuous day Mrs. Hen retired to her slumbers
earlier than usual–indeed, before the colors came into the sky to
herald the setting of the sun, her usual bedtime hour.

She would have liked to sleep late in the morning, but her chicks,
joining in the morning chorus of the hen yard, drove away all hopes of
such a luxury.

Even as she sleepily half opened one eye, the thought came to her that
to-day that Wheat must, somehow, be made into bread.

She was not in the habit of making bread, although, of course, anyone
can make it if he or she follows the recipe with care, and she knew
perfectly well that she could do it if necessary.

So after her children were fed and made sweet and fresh for the day,
she hunted up the Pig, the Cat and the Rat.

Still confident that they would surely help her some day she sang out,
“Who will make the bread?”

Alas for the Little Red Hen! Once more her hopes were dashed! For the
Pig said, “Not I,”

the Cat said, “Not I,” and the Rat said, “Not I.”

So the Little Red Hen said once more, “I will then,” and she did.

Feeling that she might have known all the time that she would have to
do it all herself, she went and put on a fresh apron and spotless
cook’s cap. First of all she set the dough, as was proper. When it was
time she brought out the moulding board and the baking tins, moulded
the bread, divided it into loaves, and put them into the oven to bake.
All the while the Cat sat lazily by, giggling and chuckling.

And close at hand the vain Rat powdered his nose and admired himself
in a mirror.

In the distance could be heard the long-drawn snores of the dozing
Pig.

At last the great moment arrived. A delicious odor was wafted upon the
autumn breeze. Everywhere the barnyard citizens sniffed the air with
delight.

The Red Hen ambled in her picketty-pecketty way toward the source of
all this excitement.

Although she appeared to be perfectly calm, in reality she could only
with difficulty restrain an impulse to dance and sing, for had she not
done all the work on this wonderful bread?

Small wonder that she was the most excited person in the barnyard!

She did not know whether the bread would be fit to eat, but–joy of
joys!–when the lovely brown loaves came out of the oven, they were
done to perfection.

Then, probably because she had acquired the habit, the Red Hen called:
“Who will eat the Bread?”

All the animals in the barnyard were watching hungrily and smacking
their lips in anticipation, and the Pig said, “I will,” the Cat said,
“I will,” the Rat said, “I will.”

But the Little Red Hen said,

“No, you won’t. I will.”

And she did.

Sweet Porridge

Posted on July 13, 2016October 28, 2016 by Sea

Sweet Porridge
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 3 Year olds)

There was a poor but good little girl who lived alone with her
mother, and they no longer had anything to eat. So the child went
into the forest, and there an aged woman met her who was aware of her
sorrow, and presented her with a little pot, which when she said,
cook, little pot, cook, would cook good, sweet porridge, and when she
said, stop, little pot, it ceased to cook. The girl took the pot
home to her mother, and now they were freed from their poverty and
hunger, and ate sweet porridge as often as they chose. Once on a
time when the girl had gone out, her mother said, cook, little pot,
cook. And it did cook and she ate till she was satisfied, and then
she wanted the pot to stop cooking, but did not know the word. So it
went on cooking and the porridge rose over the edge, and still it
cooked on until the kitchen and whole house were full, and then the
next house, and then the whole street, just as if it wanted to
satisfy the hunger of the whole world, and there was the greatest
distress, but no one knew how to stop it. At last when only one
single house remained, the child came home and just said, stop,
little pot, and it stopped and gave up cooking, and whosoever wished
to return to the town had to eat his way back.

Wolf and Seven Kids

Posted on July 13, 2016September 7, 2016 by Sea

Wolf and Seven Kids
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 4-5 Year Olds)

There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day
she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called
all seven to her and said, dear children, I have to go into the
forest, be on your guard against the wolf, if he comes in, he will
devour you all – skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often
disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice
and his black feet. The kids said, dear mother, we will take good
care of ourselves, you may go away without any anxiety. Then the old
one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.

It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and called,
open the door, dear children, your mother is here, and has brought
something back with her for each of you. But the little kids knew
that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. We will not open the door,
cried they, you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice,
but your voice is rough, you are the wolf. Then the wolf went away
to a shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this
and made his voice soft with it. Then he came back, knocked at the
door of the house, and called, open the door, dear children, your
mother is here and has brought something back with her for each of
you. But the wolf had laid his black paws against the window, and
the children saw them and cried, we will not open the door, our
mother has not black feet like you, you are the wolf. Then the wolf
ran to a baker and said, I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over
them for me. And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to
the miller and said, strew some white meal over my feet for me. The
miller thought to himself, the wolf wants to deceive someone, and
refused, but the wolf said, if you will not do it, I will devour you.
Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly,
this the way of mankind.

So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked
at it and said, open the door for me, children, your dear little
mother has come home, and has brought every one of you something back
from the forest with her. The little kids cried, first show us your
paws that we may know if you are our dear little mother. Then he put
his paws in through the window, and when the kids saw that they were
white, they believed that all he said was true, and opened the door.
But who should come in but the wolf they were terrified and wanted to
hide themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the
bed, the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth
into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh
into the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great
ceremony, one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The
youngest, who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not
find. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off,
laid himself down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began
to sleep. Soon afterwards the old goat came home again from the
forest. Ah. What a sight she saw there. The house-door stood wide
open. The table, chairs, and benches were thrown down, the
washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts and pillows were
pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they were nowhere
to be found. She called them one after another by name, but no one
answered. At last, when she caame to the youngest, a soft voice
cried, dear mother, I am in the clock-case. She took the kid out,
and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others.
Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.

At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with
her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree
and snored so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on
every side and saw that something was moving and struggling in his
gorged belly. Ah, heavens, she said, is it possible that my poor
children whom he has swallowed down for his supper, can be still
alive. Then the kid had to run home and fetch scissors, and a needle
and thread and the goat cut open the monster’s stomach, and hardly
had she make one cut, than one little kid thrust its head out, and
when she cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were
all still alive, and had suffered no injury whatever, for in his
greediness the monster had swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing
there was. They embraced their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor
at his wedding. The mother, however, said, now go and look for some
big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast’s stomach with them
while he is still asleep. Then the seven kids dragged the stones
thither with all speed, and put as many of them into his stomach as
they could get in, and the mother sewed him up again in the greatest
haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once stirred.

When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his
legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he
wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move
about, the stones in his stomach knocked against each other and
rattled. Then cried he, what rumbles and tumbles against my poor
bones. I thought ’twas six kids, but it feels like big stones. And
when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the
heavy stones made him fall in, and he had to drown miserably. When
the seven kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried
aloud, the wolf is dead. The wolf is dead, and danced for joy round
about the well with their mother.

Mother Holle

Posted on July 13, 2016October 24, 2016 by Sea

Mother Holle
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Year olds)

There was once a widow who had two daughters – one of
whom was pretty and industrious, whilst the other was ugly
and idle. But she was much fonder of the ugly and idle one,
because she was her own daughter. And the other, who was a
step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and be the
cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a
well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.

Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her
blood, so she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off, but it
dropped out of her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to
weep, and ran to her step-mother and told her of the mishap. But
she scolded her sharply, and was so merciless as to say, since
you have let the shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again.

So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do.
And in the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the
shuttle. She lost her senses. And when she awoke and came to
herself again, she was in a lovely meadow where the sun was
shining and many thousands of flowers were growing. Across this
meadow she went, and at last came to a baker’s oven full of bread,
and the bread cried out, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall
burn. I have been baked a long time. So she went up to it, and
took out all the loaves one after another with the bread-shovel.

After that she went on till she came to a tree covered with apples,
which called out to her, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are
all ripe. So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain,
and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had
gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.

At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman
peeped. But she had such large teeth that the girl was
frightened, and was about to run away. But the old woman called
out to her, what are you afraid of, dear child. Stay with me.
If you will do all the work in the house properly, you shall be
the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well,
and shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly – for then there
is snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.

As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage
and agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the
satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously
that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a
pleasant life with her. Never an angry word. And to eat she had
boiled or roast meat every day.

She stayed some time with mother holle, before she became sad.
At first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found
at length that it was home-sickness. Although she was many thousand
times better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be
there. At last she said to the old woman, I have a longing for
home, and however well off I am down here, I cannot stay any
longer. I must go up again to my own people. Mother holle said,
I am pleased that you long for your home again, and as you have
served me so truly, I myself will take you up again. Thereupon
she took her by the hand, and led her to a large door. The door
was opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the
doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold clung
to her, so that she was completely covered over with it.

You shall have that because you have been so industrious, said
mother holle, and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle
which she had let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed,
and the maiden found herself up above upon the earth, not far
from her mother’s house.

And as she went into the yard the cock was sitting on the well,
and cried –
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your golden girl’s come back to you.

So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with
gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister.
The girl told all that had happened to her, and as soon as the
mother heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very
anxious to obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter.
She had to seat herself by the well and spin. And in order that
her shuttle might be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a
thorn bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw her shuttle
into the well, and jumped in after it.

She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked
along the very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again
cried, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall burn. I have been
baked a long time. But the lazy thing answered, as if I had any
wish to make myself dirty. And on she went. Soon she came to the
apple-tree, which cried, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are all
ripe. But she answered, I like that. One of you might fall on
my head, and so went on. When she came to mother holle’s house
she was not afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and
she hired herself to her immediately.

The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed
mother holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking
of all the gold that she would give her. But on the second day
she began to be lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then
she would not get up in the morning at all. Neither did she make
mother holle’s bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to
make the feathers fly up. Mother holle was soon tired of this, and
gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was willing enough to go,
and thought that now the golden rain would come. Mother holle led
her also to the great door, but while she was standing beneath it,
instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch was emptied over her.
That is the reward for your service, said mother holle, and shut
the door.

So the lazy girl went home, but she was quite covered with pitch,
and the cock on the well, as soon as he saw her, cried out –
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your dirty girl’s come back to you.

But the pitch clung fast to her, and could not be got off as long
as she lived.

Little Red Cap AKA Little Red Ridding-hood

Posted on July 13, 2016September 8, 2016 by Sea

Little Red Cap
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Year Olds)

10233849_f520

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved
by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have
given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red
velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear
anything else. So she was always called little red-cap.

One day her mother said to her, come, little red-cap, here
is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your
grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good.
Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk
nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may
fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will
get nothing. And when you go into her room, don’t forget
to say, good-morning, and don’t peep into every corner before
you do it.

I will take great care, said little red-cap to her mother, and
gave her hand on it.

The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the
village, and just as little red-cap entered the wood, a wolf
met her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was,
and was not at all afraid of him.

“Good-day, little red-cap,” said he.

“Thank you kindly, wolf.”

“Whither away so early, little red-cap?”

“To my grandmother’s.”

“What have you got in your apron?”

“Cake and wine. Yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick
grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger.”

“Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?”

“A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood. Her house
stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just
below. You surely must know it,” replied little red-cap.

The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature. What a
nice plump mouthful, she will be better to eat than the old
woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both. So he walked
for a short time by the side of little red-cap, and then he
said, “see little red-cap, how pretty the flowers are about here.
Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not
hear how sweetly the little birds are singing. You walk gravely
along as if you were going to school, while everything else out
here in the wood is merry.”

Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams
dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers
growing everywhere, she thought, suppose I take grandmother a
fresh nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the
day that I shall still get there in good time. And so she ran
from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever
she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one
farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper into
the wood.

Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother’s house and
knocked at the door.

“Who is there?”

“Little red-cap,” replied the wolf. “She is bringing cake and
wine. Open the door.”

“Lift the latch,” called out the grandmother, “I am too weak, and
cannot get up.”

The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without
saying a word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and
devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in
her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.

Little red-cap, however, had been running about picking flowers,
and when she had gathered so many that she could carry
no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the
way to her.

She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and
when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that
she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at
other times I like being with grandmother so much. She called
out, “good morning,” but received no answer. So she went to the
bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with
her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.

“Oh, grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have.”

“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply.

“But, grandmother, what big eyes you have,” she said.

“The better to see you with,” my dear.

“But, grandmother, what large hands you have.”

“The better to hug you with.”

“Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have.”

“The better to eat you with.”

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was
out of bed and swallowed up red-cap.

When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in
the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The
huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how
the old woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.

So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw
that the wolf was lying in it. Do I find you here, you old
sinner, said he. I have long sought you. Then just as he was going
to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have
devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so
he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut
open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two
snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he made two
snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah, how
frightened I have been. How dark it was inside the wolf. And
after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely
able to breathe. Red-cap, however, quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so
heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.

Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s
skin and went home with it. The grandmother ate the cake and
drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but
red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by
myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has
forbidden me to do so.

It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking cakes
to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to
entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her guard,
and went straight forward on her way, and told her grandmother
that she had met the wolf, and that he had said good-morning to
her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if they had
not been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten
her up. Well, said the grandmother, we will shut the door, that
he may not come in. Soon afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried,
open the door, grandmother, I am little red-cap, and am bringing
you some cakes. But they did not speak, or open the door, so
the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last
jumped on the roof, intending to wait until red-cap went home in
the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the
darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In
front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the
child, take the pail, red-cap. I made some sausages yesterday,
so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough. Red-cap
carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the smell
of the sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped
down, and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could
no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and slipped down
from the roof straight into the great trough, and was drowned.
But red-cap went joyously home, and no one ever did anything
to harm her again.

Bremen Town Musicians

Posted on July 13, 2016September 7, 2016 by Sea

Bremen Town Musicians
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Years Old)

Herrfurth_Bremer_Stadtmusikanten

A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks
to the mill indefatigably for many a long year. But his
strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit
for work. Then his master began to consider how he might
best save his keep. But the donkey, seeing that no good wind
was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to bremen. There,
he thought, I can surely be a town-musician. When he had walked
some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping like
one who had run till he was tired. What are you gasping so for,
you big fellow, asked the donkey.

Ah, replied the hound, as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and
no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to
flight, but now how am I to earn my bread.

I tell you what, said the donkey, I am going to bremen, and
shall be town-musician there. Go with me and engage yourself
also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat
the kettle-drum.

The hound agreed, and on they went.
Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face
like three rainy days. Now then, old shaver, what has gone
askew with you, asked the donkey.

Who can be merry when his neck is in danger, answered the cat.
Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to
stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than
hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I
ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go.
Go with us to bremen. You understand night-music, you
can be a town-musician.

The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the
three fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting
upon the gate, crowing with all his might. Your crow goes
through and through one, said the donkey. What is the matter.
I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on
which our lady washes the christ-child’s little shirts, and
wants to dry them, said the cock. But guests are coming for
sunday, so the housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that
she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening
I am to have my head cut off. Now I am crowing at the top of
my lungs while still I can.

Ah, but red-comb, said the donkey, you had better come away
with us. We are going to bremen. You can find something better
than death everywhere. You have a good voice, and if we make
music together it must have some quality.

The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together.
They could not reach the city of bremen in one day, however,
and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to
pass the night. The donkey and the hound laid themselves down
under a large tree, the cat and the cock settled themselves in
the branches. But the cock flew right to the top, where he was
most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on all four
sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark burning.
So he called out to his companions that there must be a house
not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, if so, we
had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad. The
hound thought too that a few bones with some meat on would do
him good.

So they made their way to the place where the light was, and
soon saw it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to
a well-lighted robbers, house. The donkey, as the biggest, went
to the window and looked in.

What do you see, my grey-horse, asked the cock. What do I
see, answered the donkey. A table covered with good things to
eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.
That would be the sort of thing for us, said the cock. Yes,
yes. Ah, if only we were there, said the donkey.

Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage
to drive away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan.
The donkey was to place himself with his fore-feet upon the
window-ledge, the hound was to jump on the donkey’s back, the
cat was to climb upon the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly
up and perch upon the head of the cat.

When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform
their music together. The donkey brayed, the hound barked,
the cat mewed, and the cock crowed. Then they burst through the
window into the room, shattering the glass. At this horrible din,
the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost
had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The
four companions now sat down at the table, well content with
what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a
month.

As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light,
and each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his
nature and what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon
some straw in the yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon
the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock perched himself
upon a beam of the roof. And being tired from their long walk,
they soon went to sleep.

When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that
the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared
quiet, the captain said, we ought not to have let ourselves
be frightened out of our wits, and ordered one of them to go
and examine the house.

The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light
a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for
live coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But
the cat did not understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting
and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the
back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his
leg. And as he ran across the yard by the dunghill, the donkey
gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cock, too, who had
been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down
from the beam, cock-a-doodle-doo.

Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and
said, ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who
spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws. And by
the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg.
And in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with
a wooden club. And above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who
called out, bring the rogue here to me. So I got away as well
as I could.

After this the robbers never again dared enter the house.
But it suited the four musicians of bremen so well that they
did not care to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who
last told this story is still warm.

The Three Billy Goats Gruff

Posted on July 13, 2016October 28, 2016 by Sea

The Three Billy Goats Gruff
Norway
(Ideal for 4-5 Year Olds)

Once upon a time there were three billy goats, who were to go up to the hillside to make themselves fat, and the name of all three was “Gruff.”

On the way up was a bridge over a cascading stream they had to cross; and under the bridge lived a great ugly troll , with eyes as big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker.

So first of all came the youngest Billy Goat Gruff to cross the bridge.

“Trip, trap, trip, trap!” went the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll .

“Oh, it is only I, the tiniest Billy Goat Gruff , and I’m going up to the hillside to make myself fat,” said the billy goat, with such a small voice.

“Now, I’m coming to gobble you up,” said the troll.

“Oh, no! pray don’t take me. I’m too little, that I am,” said the billy goat. “Wait a bit till the second Billy Goat Gruff comes. He’s much bigger.”

“Well, be off with you,” said the troll.

A little while after came the second Billy Goat Gruff to cross the bridge.

Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap, went the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“Oh, it’s the second Billy Goat Gruff , and I’m going up to the hillside to make myself fat,” said the billy goat, who hadn’t such a small voice.

“Now I’m coming to gobble you up,” said the troll.

“Oh, no! Don’t take me. Wait a little till the big Billy Goat Gruff comes. He’s much bigger.”

“Very well! Be off with you,” said the troll.

But just then up came the big Billy Goat Gruff .

Trip, trap, trip, trap, trip, trap! went the bridge, for the billy goat was so heavy that the bridge creaked and groaned under him.

“Who’s that tramping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“It’s I! The big Billy Goat Gruff ,” said the billy goat, who had an ugly hoarse voice of his own.

“Now I ‘m coming to gobble you up,” roared the troll.

Well, come along! I’ve got two spears,
And I’ll poke your eyeballs out at your ears;
I’ve got besides two curling-stones,
And I’ll crush you to bits, body and bones.

That was what the big billy goat said. And then he flew at the troll, and poked his eyes out with his horns, and crushed him to bits, body and bones, and tossed him out into the cascade, and after that he went up to the hillside. There the billy goats got so fat they were scarcely able to walk home again. And if the fat hasn’t fallen off them, why, they’re still fat; and so,

Snip, snap, snout.
This tale’s told out.

The City Mouse and the Country Mouse

Posted on July 13, 2016October 23, 2016 by Sea

The City Mouse and the Country Mouse
an Aesop Fable
(Ideal for 3 Year Olds)

A country mouse invited his cousin who lived in the city to come visit him. The city mouse was so disappointed with the sparse meal which was nothing more than a few kernels of corn and a couple of dried berries.

“My poor cousin,” said the city mouse, “you hardly have anything to eat! I do believe that an ant could eat better! Please do come to the city and visit me, and I will show you such rich feasts, readily available for the taking.”

So the country mouse left with his city cousin who brought him to a splendid feast in the city’s alley. The country mouse could not believe his eyes. He had never seen so much food in one place. There was bread, cheese, fruit, cereals, and grains of all sorts scattered about in a warm cozy portion of the alley.

The two mice settled down to eat their wonderful dinner, but before they barely took their first bites, a cat approached their dining area. The two mice scampered away and hid in a small uncomfortable hole until the cat left. Finally, it was quiet, and the unwelcome visitor went to prowl somewhere else. The two mice ventured out of the hole and resumed their abundant feast. Before they could get a proper taste in their mouth, another visitor intruded on their dinner, and the two little mice had to scuttle away quickly.

“Goodbye,” said the country mouse, “You do, indeed, live in a plentiful city, but I am going home where I can enjoy my dinner in peace.”

Rumplestilskin

Posted on July 11, 2016September 8, 2016 by Sea

Rumplestilskin
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Year Olds)

Illustration -Ann Anderson

Ann Anderson

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful
daughter. Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the
king, and in order to make himself appear important he said
to him, I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold. The
king said to the miller, that is an art which
pleases me well, if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring
her to-morrow to my palace, and I will put her to the test.

And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room
which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a
reel, and said, now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning
early you have not spun this straw into gold during the night,
you must die. Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and
left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller’s daughter,
and for the life of her could not tell what to do, she had no
idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew more and
more frightened, until at last she began to weep.

But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man,
and said, good evening, mistress miller, why are you crying so.
Alas, answered the girl, I have to spin straw into gold, and I do
not know how to do it. What will you give me, said the
manikin, if I do it for you. My necklace, said the girl. The
little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the
wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was
full, then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times
round, and the second was full too. And so it went on until
the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels
were full of gold.

By daybreak the king was already there, and
when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his
heart became only more greedy. He had the miller’s daughter
taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger,
and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued
her life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was
crying, when the door opened again, and the little man appeared,
and said, what will you give me if I spin that straw into gold
for you. The ring on my finger, answered the girl. The little
man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by
morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.

The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had
not gold enough, and he had the miller’s daughter taken into
a still larger room full of straw, and said, you must spin this,
too, in the course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall
be my wife.

Even if she be a miller’s daughter, thought he, I could not
find a richer wife in the whole world.

When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third
time, and said, what will you give me if I spin the straw for
you this time also. I have nothing left that I could give,
answered the girl. Then promise me, if you should become queen,
to give me your first child. Who knows whether that will
ever happen, thought the miller’s daughter, and, not knowing
how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the
manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more spun the
straw into gold.

And when the king came in the morning, and found all as he
had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller’s
daughter became a queen.

A year after, she brought a beautiful child into the world,
and she never gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he
came into her room, and said, now give me what you promised.

The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the
riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the
manikin said, no, something alive is dearer to me than all the
treasures in the world. Then the queen began to lament and cry,
so that the manikin pitied her. I will give you three days,
time, said he, if by that time you find out my name, then shall
you keep your child.

So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that
she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to
inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be.
When the manikin came the next day, she began with caspar,
melchior, balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one
after another, but to every one the little man said, that is not
my name. On the second day she had inquiries made in the
neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she
repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. Perhaps
your name is shortribs, or sheepshanks, or laceleg, but he
always answered, that is not my name.

On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, I
have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to
a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare
bid each other good night, there I saw a little house, and
before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire
quite a ridiculous little man was jumping, he hopped upon
one leg, and shouted –
to-day I bake, to-morrow brew,
the next I’ll have the young queen’s child.
Ha, glad am I that no one knew
that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.

You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the
name. And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and
asked, now, mistress queen, what is my name, at first she
said, is your name Conrad? No. Is your name Harry? No.
Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?

The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that, cried
the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so
deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in
rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that
he tore himself in two.

Jorinda and Joringel

Posted on July 11, 2016September 7, 2016 by Sea

Jorinda and Joringel
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 1st Grade)
*Audio file at the end

jorinde_und_joringel_by_gold_seven

There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and dense
forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch dwelt all
alone. In the day-time she changed herself into a car or a
screech-owl, but in the evening she took her proper shape
again as a human being. She could lure wild beasts and birds
to her, and then she killed and boiled and roasted them. If
anyone came within one hundred paces of the castle he was
obliged to stand still, and could not stir from the place until
she bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden came
within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and shut her
up in a wicker-work cage, and carried the cage into a room in the
castle. She had about seven thousand cages of rare birds in
the castle.

Now, there was once a maiden who was called jorinda, who was
fairer than all other girls. She and a handsome youth named
joringel had promised to marry each other. They were still in
the days of betrothal, and their greatest happiness was being
together. One day in order that they might be able to talk
together in peace they went for a walk in the forest. Take
care, said joringel, that you do not go too near the castle.
It was a beautiful evening. The sun shone brightly between
the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the forest, and
the turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the beech trees.

Jorinda wept now and then. She sat down in the sunshine and
was sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too. They were as
sad as if they were about to die. Then they looked around them,
and were quite at a loss, for they did not know by which way
they should go home. The sun was still half above the
mountain and half under.

Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the
castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with
deadly fear. Jorinda was singing,

my little bird, with the necklace red,
sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
he sings that the dove must soon be dead,
sings sorrow, sor – jug, jug, jug.

Joringel looked for jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale,
and sang, jug, jug, jug. A screech-owl with glowing eyes
flew three times round about her, and three times cried, to-whoo,
to-whoo, to-whoo.

Joringel could not move. He stood there like a stone, and
could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.
The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly
afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow
and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of
which reached to her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the
nightingale, and took it away in her hand.

Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot. The
nightingale was gone. At last the woman came back, and said
in a hollow voice, greet you, zachiel. If the moon shines on
the cage, zachiel, let him loose at once. Then joringel was
freed. He fell on his knees before the woman and begged that
she would give him back his jorinda, but she said that he
should never have her again, and went away. He called, he wept,
he lamented, but all in vain, hooh, what is to become of me.

Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange village, where
he kept sheep for a long time. He often walked round and round
the castle, but not too near to it. At last he dreamt one
night that he found a blood-red flower, in the middle of
which was a beautiful large pearl. That he picked the flower
and went with it to the castle, and that everything he touched
with the flower was freed from enchantment. He also dreamt
that by means of it he recovered his jorinda.

In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over hill and
dale for such a flower. He sought until the ninth day, and then,
early in the morning, he found the blood-red flower. In the
middle of it there was a large dew-drop, as big as the finest
pearl.

Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the castle. When
he was within a hundred paces of it he was not held fast, but
walked on to the door. Joringel was full of joy. He touched the
door with the flower, and it sprang open. He walked in through
the courtyard, and listened for the sound of the birds. At
last he heard it. He went on and found the room from whence it
came, and there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven
thousand cages.

When she saw joringel she was angry, very angry, and scolded
and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not come within
two paces of him. He did not take any notice of her, but went
and looked at the cages with the birds. But there were many
hundred nightingales, how was he to find his jorinda again.
Just then he saw the old woman quietly take away a cage with
a bird in it, and go towards the door.

Swiftly he sprang towards her, touched the cage with the flower,
and also the old woman. She could now no longer bewitch anyone.
And jorinda was standing there, clasping him round the neck,
and she was as beautiful as ever. Then all the other birds
were turned into maidens again, and he went home with his jorinda,
and they lived happily together for a long time.

Listen to the audio from LibriVox here:

The Coyote and the Blackbirds

Posted on July 11, 2016October 23, 2016 by Sea

The Coyote and the Blackbirds

Once upon a time a Coyote lived near an open wood. As he went to walk one day near the edge of the wood, he heard the Blackbirds (the Indian name means “seeds of the prairie”) calling excitedly:

“Bring my bag! Bring my bag! It is going to hail!”

The Coyote, being very curious, came near and saw that they all had buckskin bags to which they were tying lassos, the other ends of which were thrown over the boughs of the trees. Very much surprised, the Coyote came to them and asked:

“Blackbird-friends, what are you doing?”

“Oh, friend Coyote,” they replied, “we are making ourselves ready, for soon there will be a very hard hail-storm, and we do not wish to be pelted to death. We are going to get into these bags and pull ourselves up under the branches, where the hail cannot strike us.”

“That is very good,” said the Coyote, “and I would like to do so, too, if you will let me join you.”

“Oh, yes! just run home and get a bag and a lasso, and come back here and we will help you.” said the Pah-táhn, never smiling.

So the Coyote started running for home, and got a large bag and a lasso, and came back to the Blackbirds, who were waiting. They fixed the rope and bag for him, putting the noose around the neck of the bag so that it would be closed tight when the rope was pulled. Then they threw the end of the lasso over a strong branch and said:

“Now, friend Coyote, you get into your bag first, for you are so big and heavy that you cannot pull yourself up, and we will have to help you.”

The Coyote crawled into the bag, and all the Blackbirds taking hold of the rope, pulled with all their might till the bag was swung clear up under the branch. Then they tied the end of the lasso around the tree so the bag could not come down, and ran around picking up all the pebbles they could find. “Mercy! How the hail comes!” they cried excitedly, and began to throw stones at the swinging bag as hard as ever they could.

“Mercy!” howled the Coyote, as the pebbles pattered against him. “But this is a terrible storm, Blackbird-friends! It pelts me dreadfully! And how are you getting along?”

“It is truly very bad, friend Coyote,” they answered, “but you are bigger and stronger than we, and ought to endure it.” And they kept pelting him, all the time crying and chattering as if they, too, were suffering greatly from the hail.

“Ouch!” yelled the Coyote. “That one hit me very near the eye, friends! I fear this evil storm will kill us all!”

“But be brave, friend,” called back the Blackbirds. “We keep our hearts, and so should you, for you are much stronger than we.” And they pelted him all the harder.

So they kept it up until they were too tired to throw any more; and as for the Coyote, he was so bruised and sore that he could hardly move. Then they untied the rope and let the bag slowly to the ground, and loosened the noose at the neck and flew up into the trees with sober faces.

“Ow!” groaned the Coyote, “I am nearly dead!”

And he crawled weeping and groaning from the bag, and began to lick his bruises. But when he looked around and saw the sun shining and the ground dry, and not a hailstone anywhere, he knew that the Blackbirds had given him a trick, and he limped home in a terrible rage, vowing that as soon as ever he got well he would follow and eat the Blackbirds as long as he lived. And ever since, even to this day, he has been following them to eat them, and that is why the Coyote and the Blackbirds are always at war.

retold by Charles Lummis

This is a collection of stories from the Isleta Pueblo people of New Mexico. Charles Lummis [1859-1928] was a pioneering writer, photographer, amateur anthropologist and adventurer

Lummis moved to New Mexico, where he embedded himself in Pueblo culture and collected the stories originally published as The Man Who Married the Moon in 1894