Category: Homeschool

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

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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)

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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.

Star Money

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

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

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There was once upon a time a little girl whose father and mother
were dead, and she was so poor that she no longer had a room to
live in, or bed to sleep in, and at last she had nothing else but
the clothes she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her
hand which some charitable soul had given her. She was good and
pious, however. And as she was thus forsaken by all the world,
she went forth into the open country, trusting in the good God.
Then a poor man met her, who said, ah, give me something to eat,
I am so hungry. She handed him the whole of her piece of bread,
and said, may God bless you, and went onwards. Then came a child
who moaned and said, my head is so cold, give me something to
cover it with. So she took off her hood and gave it to him. And
when she had walked a little farther, she met another child who
had no jacket and was frozen with cold. Then she gave it her
own, and a little farther on one begged for a frock,
and she gave away that also. At length she got into a forest
and it had already become dark, and there came yet another child,
and asked for a shirt, and the good little girl thought
to herself, it is a dark night and no one sees you, you can very
well give your shirt away, and took it off, and gave away that
also. And as she so stood, and had not one single thing left,
suddenly some stars from heaven fell down, and they were nothing
else but hard smooth pieces of money, and although she had just
given her shirt away, she had a new one which was of the very
finest linen. Then she put the money into it, and was rich all
the days of her life.

Frog Prince

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

Frog Prince
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Year Olds)
*Audio file at the end

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In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king
whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful
that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever
it shone in her face. Close by the king’s castle lay a great dark
forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when
the day was very warm, the king’s child went out into the forest and
sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was bored she
took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this
ball was her favorite plaything.

Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess’s golden ball
did not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it,
but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The
king’s daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the
well was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. At this
she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be
comforted. And as she thus lamented someone said to her, “What ails
you, king’s daughter? You weep so that even a stone would show pity.”

She looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a
frog stretching forth its big, ugly head from the water. “Ah, old
water-splasher, is it you,” she said, “I am weeping for my golden ball,
which has fallen into the well.” “Be quiet, and do not weep,” answered
the frog, “I can help you, but what will you give me if I bring your
plaything up again?” “Whatever you will have, dear frog,” said she, “My
clothes, my pearls and jewels, and even the golden crown which I am
wearing.” The frog answered, “I do not care for your clothes, your
pearls and jewels, nor for your golden crown, but if you will love me
and let me be your companion and play-fellow, and sit by you at your
little table, and eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of
your little cup, and sleep in your little bed – if you will promise
me this I will go down below, and bring you your golden ball up
again.”

“Oh yes,” said she, “I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring
me my ball back again.” But she thought, “How the silly frog does
talk. All he does is to sit in the water with the other frogs, and
croak. He can be no companion to any human being.”

But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the
water and sank down; and in a short while came swimmming up again
with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The king’s
daughter was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and
picked it up, and ran away with it. “Wait, wait,” said the frog. “Take
me with you. I can’t run as you can.” But what did it avail him to
scream his croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could. She did
not listen to it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was
forced to go back into his well again.

The next day when she had seated herself at table with the king and
all the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate,
something came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble
staircase, and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and
cried, “Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me.” She ran to
see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog
in front of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat
down to dinner again, and was quite frightened. The king saw plainly
that her heart was beating violently, and said, “My child, what are
you so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to
carry you away?” “Ah, no,” replied she. “It is no giant but a disgusting
frog.”

“What does a frog want with you?” “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was
in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into
the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for
me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my
companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his
water. And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me.”

In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried, “Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me, do you not know what you
said to me yesterday by the cool waters of the well. Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me.”

Then said the king, “That which you have promised must you perform.
Go and let him in.” She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped
in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and
cried, “Lift me up beside you.” She delayed, until at last the king
commanded her to do it. Once the frog was on the chair he wanted to
be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, “Now, push your
little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together.” She did
this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The
frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked
her. At length he said, “I have eaten and am satisfied, now I am
tired, carry me into your little room and make your little silken bed
ready, and we will both lie down and go to sleep.”

The king’s daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog
which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her
pretty, clean little bed. But the king grew angry and said, “He who
helped you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards to be
despised by you.” So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner, but when she was in
bed he crept to her and said, “I am tired, I want to sleep as well as
you, lift me up or I will tell your father.” At this she was terribly
angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the
wall. “Now, will you be quiet, odious frog,” said she. But when he
fell down he was no frog but a king’s son with kind and beautiful
eyes. He by her father’s will was now her dear companion and
husband. Then he told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked
witch, and how no one could have delivered him from the well but
herself, and that to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom.

Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke them, a
carriage came driving up with eight white horses, which had white
ostrich feathers on their heads, and were harnessed with golden
chains, and behind stood the young king’s servant Faithful Henry.
Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a
frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid round his heart,
lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to
conduct the young king into his kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them
both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of joy because
of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the way the
king’s son heard a cracking behind him as if something had broken.
So he turned round and cried, “Henry, the carriage is breaking.”
“No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart,
which was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and
imprisoned in the well.” Again and once again while they were on
their way something cracked, and each time the king’s son thought the
carriage was breaking, but it was only the bands which were springing
from the heart of Faithful Henry because his master was set free and
was happy.

Listen to the audio from LibriVox here:

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)

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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)

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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.

Spindle, Shuttle and Needle

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

Spindle, Shuttle and Needle
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Grimm, 186)

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There was once a girl whose father and mother died while
she was still a little child. All alone, in a small house at the
end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself
by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the
forlorn child to live with her, kept her to her work, and educated
her in all that is good. When the girl was fifteen years old,
the old woman became ill, called the child to her bedside,
and said, dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near. I leave you
the little house, which will protect you from wind and weather, and
my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your
bread. Then she laid her hands on the girl’s head, blessed her,
and said, only preserve the love of God in your heart, and all will
go well with you. Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was
laid in the earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping
bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect.

And now the maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and
was industrious, and spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the
good old woman was on all that she did. It seemed as if the flax
in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a
piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found
a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of
nothing, and even had something to share with others.

About this time, the son of the king was traveling about the
country looking for a bride. He was not to choose a poor one, and
did not want to have a rich one. So he said, she shall be my wife
who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest. When he came
to the village where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did
wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest girl in
the place. They first named the richest. The poorest, they said,
was the girl who lived in the small house quite at the end of the
village. The rich girl was sitting in all her splendor before the
door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up,
went to meet him, and made him a low curtsy. He looked at her,
said nothing, and rode on. When he came to the house of the poor
girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little
room. He stopped his horse, and saw through the window, on which
the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her spinning-wheel,
busily spinning. She looked up, and when she saw that the prince
was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall,
and went on spinning. I do not know whether, just at that
moment, the thread was quite even, but she went on spinning until
the king’s son had ridden away again. Then she went to the
window, opened it, and said, it is so warm in this room, and she
looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white
feathers in his hat. Then she sat down to work again in her room
and went on with her spinning, and a saying which the old woman
had often repeated when she was sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these
words to herself,
spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away,
and here to my house bring the wooer, I pray.
And what do you think happened. The spindle sprang out of her
hand in an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her
astonishment, she got up and looked after it, she saw that it was
dancing out merrily into the open country, and drawing a shining
gold thread after it. Before long, it had entirely vanished from
her sight. As she had now no spindle, the girl took the weaver’s
shuttle in her hand, sat down to her loom, and began to weave.
The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as
the thread came to an end, reached the prince. What do I see, he
cried, the spindle certainly wants to show me the way, turned
his horse about, and rode back with the golden thread. The girl
however, was sitting at her work singing,
shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day,
and guide the wooer to me, I pray.

Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door.
Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which
was more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld.
Lilies and roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden
ground in the center green branches ascended, under which bounded
hares and rabbits, stags and deer stretched their heads in
between them, brightly-colored birds were sitting in the branches
above, they lacked nothing but the gift of song. The shuttle
leapt hither and thither, and everything seemed to grow of
its own accord.

As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She held
the needle in her hand and sang,
needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine,
prepare for the wooer this house of mine.

Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere
about the room as quick as lightning. It was just as if
invisible spirits were working, it covered tables and benches
with green cloth in an instant, and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken
curtains. Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the
maiden saw through the window the white feathers of the prince,
whom the spindle had brought thither by the golden thread. He
alighted, stepped over the carpet into the house, and when he
entered the room, there stood the maiden in her poor garments, but
she shone out from within them like a rose surrounded by leaves.
You are the poorest and also the richest, said he to her. Come
with me, you shall be my bride. She did not speak, but she gave
him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, led her forth, lifted her
on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the
wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings. The spindle,
shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber,
and held in great honor.

The Story of the Three Little Pigs

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

The Story of the Three Little Pigs
England
(Ideal for 4-5 Year Olds)

There was once upon a time a pig who lived with her three children on a large, comfortable, old-fashioned farmyard. The eldest of the little pigs was called Browny, the second Whitey, and the youngest and best looking Blacky. Now Browny was a very dirty little pig, and, I am sorry to say, spent most of his time rolling and wallowing about in the mud. He was never so happy as on a wet day, when the mud in the farmyard got soft, and thick, and slab. Then he would steal away from his mother’s side, and finding the muddiest place in the yard, would roll about in it and thoroughly enjoy himself.

His mother often found fault with him for this, and would shake her head sadly and say, “Ah, Browny! Some day you will be sorry that you did not obey your old mother.”

But no words of advice or warning could cure Browny of his bad habits.

Whitey was quite a clever little pig, but she was greedy. She was always thinking of her food, and looking forward to her dinner. And when the farm girl was seen carrying the pails across the yard, she would rise up on her hind legs and dance and caper with excitement. As soon as the food was poured into the trough she jostled Blacky and Browny out of the way in her eagerness to get the best and biggest bits for herself. Her mother often scolded her for her selfishness, and told her that someday she would suffer for being so greedy and grabbing.

Blacky was a good, nice little pig, neither dirty nor greedy. He had nice dainty ways (for a pig), and his skin was always as smooth and shining as black satin. He was much cleverer than Browny and Whitey, and his mother’s heart used to swell with pride when she heard the farmer’s friends say to each other that someday the little black fellow would be a prize pig.

Now the time came when the mother pig felt old and feeble and near her end. One day she called the three little pigs round her and said, “My children, I feel that I am growing old and weak, and that I shall not live long. Before I die I should like to build a house for each of you, as this dear old sty in which we have lived so happily will be given to a new family of pigs, and you will have to turn out. Now, Browny, what sort of a house would you like to have?”

“A house of mud,” replied Browny, looking longingly at a wet puddle in the corner of the yard.

“And you, Whitey?” said the mother pig in rather a sad voice, for she was disappointed that Browny had made so foolish a choice.

“A house of cabbage,” answered Whitey, with a mouth full, and scarcely raising her snout out of the trough in which she was grubbing for some potato parings.

“Foolish, foolish child!” said the mother pig, looking quite distressed. “And you, Blacky?” turning to her youngest son. “What sort of a house shall I order for you?”

“A house of brick, please mother, as it will be warm in winter and cool in summer, and safe all the year round.”

“That is a sensible little pig,” replied his mother, looking fondly at him. “I will see that the three houses are got ready at once. And now one last piece of advice. You have heard me talk of our old enemy the fox. When he hears that I am dead, he is sure to try and get hold of you, to carry you off to his den. He is very sly and will no doubt disguise himself, and pretend to be a friend, but you must promise me not to let him enter your houses on any pretext whatever.”

And the little pigs readily promised, for they had always had a great fear of the fox, of whom they had heard many terrible tales.

A short time afterwards the old pig died, and the little pigs went to live in their own houses.

Browny was quite delighted with his soft mud walls and with the clay floor, which soon looked like nothing but a big mud pie. But that was what Browny enjoyed, and he was as happy as possible, rolling about all day and making himself in such a mess.

One day, as he was lying half asleep in the mud, he heard a soft knock at his door, and a gentle voice said, “May I come in, Master Browny? I want to see your beautiful new house.”

“Who are you?” said Browny, starting up in great fright, for though the voice sounded gentle, he felt sure it was a feigned voice, and he feared it was the fox.

“I am a friend come to call on you,” answered the voice.

“No, no,” replied Browny, “I don’t believe you are a friend. You are the wicked fox, against whom our mother warned us. I won’t let you in.”

“Oho! Is that the way you answer me?” said the fox, speaking very roughly in his natural voice. “We shall soon see who is master here,” and with his paws he set to work and scraped a large hole in the soft mud walls. A moment later he had jumped through it, and catching Browny by the neck, flung him on his shoulders and trotted off with him to his den.

The next day, as Whitey was munching a few leaves of cabbage out of the corner of her house, the fox stole up to her door, determined to carry her off to join her brother in his den. He began speaking to her in the same feigned gentle voice in which he had spoken to Browny. But it frightend her very much when he said, “I am a friend come to visit you, and to have some of your good cabbage for my dinner.”

“Please don’t touch it,” cried Whitey in great distress. “The cabbages are the walls of my house, and if you eat them you will make a hole, and the wind and rain will come in and give me a cold. Do go away. I am sure you are not a friend, but our wicked enemy the fox.”

And poor Whitey began to whine and to whimper, and to wish that she had not been such a greedy little pig, and had chosen a more solid material than cabbages for her house. But it was too late now, and in another minute the fox had eaten his way through the cabbage walls, and had caught the trembling, shivering Whitey and carried her off to his den.

The next day the fox started off for Blacky’s house, because he had made up his mind that he would get the three little pigs together in his den, and then kill them, and invite all his friends to a feast. But when he reached the brick house, he found that the door was bolted and barred, so in his sly manner he began, “Do let me in, dear Blacky. I have brought you a present of some eggs that I picked up in a farmyard on my way here.”

“No, no, Mister Fox,” replied Blacky. “I am not gong to open my door to you. I know your cunning ways. You have carried off poor Browny and Whitey, but you are not going to get me.”

At this the fox was so angry that he dashed with all his force against the wall, and tried to knock it down. But it was too strong and well built. And though the fox scraped and tore at the bricks with his paws, he only hurt himself, and at last he had to give it up, and limp away with his forepaws all bleeding and sore.

“Never mind!” he cried angrily as he went off. “I’ll catch you another day, see if I don’t, and won’t I grind your bones to powder when I have got you in my den!” And he snarled fiercely and showed his teeth.

Next day Blacky had to go into the neighboring town to do some marketing and to buy a big kettle. As he was walking home with it slung over his shoulder, he heard a sound of steps stealthily creeping after him. For a moment his heart stood still with fear, and then a happy thought came to him. He had just reached the top of a hill, and could see his own little house nestling at the foot of it among the trees. In a moment he had snatched the lid off the kettle and had jumped in himself. Coiling himself round, he lay quite snug in the bottom of the kettle, while with his foreleg he managed to put the lid on, so that he was entirely hidden. With a little kick from the inside, he started the kettle off, and down the hill it rolled full tilt. And when the fox came up, all that he saw was a large black kettle spinning over the ground at a great pace. Very much disappointed, he was just going to turn away, when he saw the kettle stop close to the little brick house, and a moment later, Blacky jumped out of it and escaped with the kettle into the housed, when he barred and bolted the door, and put the shutter up over the window.

“Oho!” exclaimed the fox to himself. “You think you will escape me that way, do you? We shall soon see about that, my friend.” And very quietly and stealthily he prowled round the house looking for some way to climb onto the roof.

In the meantime Blacky had filled the kettle with water, and having put it on the fire, sat down quietly waiting for it to boil. Just as the kettle was beginning to sing, and steam to come out of the spout, he heard a sound like a soft, muffled step, patter, patter, patter overhead, and the next moment the fox’s head and forepaws were seen coming down the chimney. But Blacky very wisely had not put the lid on the kettle, and, with a yelp of pain, the fox fell into the boiling water, and before he could escape, Blacky had popped the lid on, and the fox was scalded to death.

As soon as he was sure that their wicked enemy was really dead, and could do them no further harm, Blacky started off to rescue Browny and Whitey. As he approached the den he heard piteous grunts and squeals from his poor little brother and sister who lived in constant terror of the fox killing and eating them. But when they saw Blacky appear at the entrance to the den, their joy knew no bounds. He quickly found a sharp stone and cut the cords by which they were tied to a stake in the ground, and then all three started off together for Blacky’s house, where they lived happily ever after. And Browny quite gave up rolling in the mud, and Whitey ceased to be greedy, for they never forgot how nearly these faults had brought them to an untimely end.

Hut in the Forest

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

Hut in the Forest
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
(Ideal for 5-6 Year Olds)

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A poor wood-cutter lived with his wife and three daughters in
a little hut on the edge of a lonely forest. One morning as he
was about to go to his work, he said to his wife, let our
eldest daughter bring me my dinner into the forest, or I shall
never get my work done, and in order that she may not miss
her way, he added, I will take a bag of millet with me and strew
the seeds on the path. When, therefore, the sun was just above
the centre of the forest, the girl set out on her way with a
bowl of soup, but the field-sparrows, and wood-sparrows,
larks and finches, blackbirds and siskins had picked up the
millet long before, and the girl could not find the track.
Trusting to chance, she went on and on, until the sun sank and
night began to fall. The trees rustled in the darkness, the
owls hooted, and she began to be afraid. Then in the distance she
perceived a light which glimmered between the trees. There
ought to be some people living there, who can take me in for the
night, thought she, and went up to the light. It was not long before
she came to a house the windows of which were all lighted up. She
knocked, and a rough voice from inside cried, come in. The
girl stepped into the dark entrance, and knocked at the door of
the room. Just come in, cried the voice, and when she opened the
door, an old gray-haired man was sitting at the table, supporting
his face with both hands, and his white beard fell down over
the table almost as far as the ground. By the stove lay three
animals, a hen, a cock, and a brindled cow. The girl told her
story to the old man, and begged for shelter for the night. The
man said,
my pretty hen,
my pretty cock,
my pretty brindled cow,
what are you saying now.

Duks, answered the animals, and that must have meant, we are
willing, for the old man said, here you shall have shelter
and food, go to the fire, and cook us our supper. The girl
found in the kitchen abundance of everything, and cooked a
good supper, but had no thought of the animals. She carried
the full bowl to the table, seated herself by the gray-haired man,
ate and satisfied her hunger. When she had had enough, she said,
but now I am tired, where is there a bed in which I can lie down,
and sleep. The animals replied,
thou hast eaten with him,
thou hast drunk with him,
thou hast had no thought for us,
so find out for thyself where thou canst pass the
night.

Then said the old man, just go upstairs, and you will find a
room with two beds, shake them up, and put white linen on them,
and then I, too, will come and lie down to sleep. The girl
went up, and when she had shaken the beds and put clean sheets
on, she lay down in one of them without waiting any longer for
the old man. After some time the gray-haired man came, held his
candle over the girl and shook his head. When he saw that she
had fallen into a sound sleep, he opened a trap-door, and let her
down into the cellar.

Late at night, the wood-cutter came home, and reproached his
wife for leaving him to hunger all day. It is not my fault,
she replied, the girl went out with your dinner, and must have
lost herself, but surely she will come back to-morrow. The
wood-cutter, however, arose before dawn to go into the forest, and
requested that the second daughter should take him his dinner
that day. I will take a bag with lentils, said he, the seeds
are larger than millet, the girl will see them better, and
can’t lose her way. At dinner-time, therefore, the girl took
out the food, but the lentils had disappeared. The birds of the
forest had picked them up as they had done the day before,
and had left none. The girl wandered about in the forest
until night, and then she too reached the house of the old man,
was told to go in, and begged for food and a bed. The man with
the white beard again asked the animals,
my pretty hen,
my pretty cock,
my pretty brindled cow,
what are you saying now.

The animals again replied ‘duks, and everything happened just
as it had happened the day before. The girl cooked a good meal,
ate and drank with the old man, and did not concern herself about
the animals, and when she inquired about her bed they answered,
thou hast eaten with him,
thou hast drunk with him,
thou hast had no thought for us,
so find out for thyself where thou canst pass
the night.

When she was asleep the old man came, looked at her, shook his
head, and let her down into the cellar.

On the third morning the wood-cutter said to his wife, send our
youngest child out with my dinner to-day, she has always been good
and obedient, and will stay in the right path, and not rove about
like her sisters, the wild bumble-bees. The mother did not
want to do it, and said, am I to lose my dearest child, as well.
Have no fear, he replied, the girl will not go astray. She is
too prudent and sensible. Besides I will take some peas with me,
strew them about. They are still larger than lentils, and will
show her the way. But when the girl went out with her basket on
her arm, the wood-pigeons had already got all the peas in their
crops, and she did not know which way she was to turn. She was
full of sorrow and never ceased to think how hungry her father
would be, and how her good mother would grieve, if she did
not go home. At length when it grew dark, she saw the light and
came to the house in the forest. She begged quite prettily to
be allowed to spend the night there, and the man with the white
beard again asked his animals,
my pretty hen,
my pretty cock,
my pretty brindled cow,
what are you saying now.

Duks, said they. Then the girl went to the stove where the
animals were lying, and petted the cock and hen, and stroked
their smooth feathers with her hand, and caressed the brindled
cow between her horns, and when, in obedience to the old man’s
orders, she had made ready some good soup, and the bowl was
placed upon the table, she said, am I to eat as much as I want,
and the good animals to have nothing. Outside is food in plenty,
I will look after them first. So she went and brought some
barley and stewed it for the cock and hen, and a whole armful
of sweet-smelling hay for the cow. I hope you will like it,
dear animals, said she, and you shall have a refreshing draught
in case you are thirsty. Then she fetched a bucketful of water,
and the cock and hen jumped on to the edge of it and dipped
their beaks in, and then held up their heads as the birds do when
they drink, and the brindled cow also took a hearty draught. When
the animals were fed, the girl seated herself at the table by
the old man, and ate what he had left. It was not long before
the cock and the hen began to thrust their heads beneath
their wings, and the eyes of the cow likewise began to blink.
Then said the girl, ought we not to go to bed.
My pretty hen,
my pretty cock,
my pretty brindled cow,
what are you saying now.

The animals answered, duks,
thou hast eaten with us,
thou hast drunk with us,
thou hast had kind thought for all of us,
we wish thee good-night.

Then the maiden went upstairs, shook the feather-beds, and laid
clean sheets on them, and when she had done it the old man came
and lay down in one of the beds, and his white beard reached down
to his feet. The girl lay down on the other, said her prayers,
and fell asleep.

She slept quietly till midnight, and then there was such a noise
in the house that she awoke. There was a sound of cracking and
splitting in every corner, and the doors sprang open, and beat
against the walls. The beams groaned as if they were being torn
out of their joints, it seemed as if the staircase were falling
down, and at length there was a crash as if the entire roof had
fallen in. When, however, all grew quiet once more, and the girl
was not hurt, she stayed quietly lying where she was, and fell
asleep again. But when she woke up in the morning with the
brilliancy of the sunshine, what did her eyes behold. She was
lying in a vast hall, and everything around her shone with royal
splendor. On the walls, golden flowers grew up on a ground of
green silk, the bed was of ivory, and the canopy of red velvet,
and on a chair close by, was a pair of slippers embroidered
with pearls. The girl believed that she was in a dream, but
three richly clad attendants came in, and asked what orders she
would like to give. If you will go, she replied, I will get up
at once and make ready some soup for the old man, and then I
will feed the pretty hen, and the pretty cock, and the pretty
brindled cow. She thought the old man was up already, and looked
round at his bed. He, however, was not lying in it, but a
stranger.

And while she was looking at him, and becoming aware that he was
young and handsome, he awoke, sat up in bed, and said, I am
a king’s son, and was bewitched by a wicked witch, and made to
live in this forest, as an old gray-haired man. No one was
allowed to be with me but my three attendants in the form
of a cock, a hen, and a brindled cow. The spell was not to be
broken until a girl came to us whose heart was so good that she
showed herself full of love, not only towards mankind, but towards
animals – and that you have done, and by you at midnight we were
set free, and the old hut in the forest was changed back again
into my royal palace. And when they had arisen, the king’s son
ordered the three attendants to set out and fetch the father and
mother of the girl to the marriage feast. But where are my two
sisters, inquired the maiden. I have locked them in the cellar,
and to-morrow they shall be led into the forest, and shall live
as servants to a charcoal-burner, until they have grown kinder,
and do not leave poor animals to suffer hunger.

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.”

The Little Gingerbread Man

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

The Little Gingerbread Man
G. P. PUTNAM’S
(Ideal for 3 Year Olds)

One day, the cook went into the kitchen to make some gingerbread.
She took some flour and water, and treacle and ginger, and mixed
them all well together, and she put in some more water to make it
thin, and then some more flour to make it thick, and a little salt
and some spice, and then she rolled it out into a beautiful,
smooth, dark-yellow dough.

Then she took the square tins and cut out some square cakes for the
little boys, and with some round tins she cut out some round cakes
for the little girls, and then she said, “I’m going to make a
little gingerbread man for little Bobby.” So she took a nice round
lump of dough for his body, and a smaller lump for his head, which
she pulled out a little for the neck. Two other lumps were stuck on
beneath for the legs, and were pulled out into proper shape, with
feet and toes all complete, and two still smaller pieces were made
into arms, with dear little hands and fingers.

But the nicest work was done on the head, for the top was frizzed
up into a pretty sugary hat; on either side was made a dear little
ear, and in front, after the nose had been carefully moulded, a
beautiful mouth was made out of a big raisin, and two bright little
eyes with burnt almonds and caraway seeds.

Then the gingerbread man was finished ready for baking, and a very
jolly little man he was. In fact, he looked so sly that the cook
was afraid he was plotting some mischief, and when the batter was
ready for the oven, she put in the square cakes and she put in the
round cakes; and then she put in the little gingerbread man in a
far back corner, where he couldn’t get away in a hurry.

Then she went up to sweep the parlor, and she swept and she swept
till the clock struck twelve, when she dropped her broom in a
hurry, and exclaiming, “Lawks! the gingerbread will be all baked to
a cinder,” she ran down into the kitchen, and threw open the oven
door. And the square cakes were all done, nice and hard and brown,
and the round cakes were all done, nice and hard and brown, and the
gingerbread man was all done too, nice and hard and brown; and he
was standing up in his corner, with his little caraway-seed eyes
sparkling, and his raisin mouth bubbling over with mischief, while
he waited for the oven door to be opened. The instant the door was
opened, with a hop, skip, and a jump, he went right over the square
cakes and the round cakes, and over the cook’s arm, and before she
could say “Jack Robinson” he was running across the kitchen floor,
as fast as his little legs would carry him, towards the back door,
which was standing wide open, and through which he could see the
garden path.

The old cook turned round as fast as she could, which wasn’t very
fast, for she was rather a heavy woman and she had been quite taken
by surprise, and she saw lying right across the door-way, fast
asleep in the sun, old Mouser, the cat.

“Mouser, Mouser,” she cried, “stop the gingerbread man! I want him
for little Bobby.” When the cook first called, Mouser thought it
was only some one calling in her dreams, and simply rolled over
lazily; and the cook called again, “Mouser, Mouser!” The old cat
sprang up with a jump, but just as she turned round to ask the cook
what all the noise was about, the little gingerbread man cleverly
jumped under her tail, and in an instant was trotting down the
garden walk. Mouser turned in a hurry and ran after, although she
was still rather too sleepy to know what it was she was trying to
catch, and after the cat came the cook, lumbering along rather
heavily, but also making pretty good speed.

Now at the bottom of the walk, lying fast asleep in the sun against
the warm stones of the garden wall, was Towser, the dog.

And the cook called out: “Towser, Towser, stop the gingerbread man!
I want him for little Bobby.”

And when Towser first heard her calling he thought it was some one
speaking in his dreams, and he only turned over on his side, with
another snore, and then the cook called again, “Towser, Towser,
stop him, stop him!”

Then the dog woke up in good earnest, and jumped up on his feet to
see what it was that he should stop. But just as the dog jumped up,
the little gingerbread man, who had been watching for the chance,
quietly slipped between his legs, and climbed up on the top of the
stone wall, so that Towser saw nothing but the cat running towards
him down the walk, and behind the cat the cook, now quite out of
breath.

He thought at once that the cat must have stolen something, and
that it was the cat the cook wanted him to stop. Now, if there was
anything that Towser liked, it was going after the cat, and he
jumped up the walk so fiercely that the poor cat did not have time
to stop herself or to get out of his way, and they came together
with a great fizzing, and barking, and meowing, and howling, and
scratching, and biting, as if a couple of Catherine-wheels had gone
off in the wrong way and had got mixed up with one another.

But the old cook had been running so hard that she was not able to
stop herself any better than the cat had done, and she fell right
on top of the mixed up dog and cat, so that all three rolled over
on the walk in a heap together.

And the cat scratched whichever came nearest, whether it was a
piece of the dog or of the cook, and the dog bit at whatever came
nearest, whether it was a piece of the cat or of the cook, so that
the poor cook was badly pummelled on both sides.

Meanwhile, the gingerbread man had climbed up on the garden wall,
and stood on the top with his hands in his pockets, looking at the
scrimmage, and laughing till the tears ran down from his little
caraway-seed eyes and his raisin mouth was bubbling all over with
fun.

After a little while, the cat managed to pull herself out
from under the cook and the dog, and a very cast-down and
crumpled-up-looking cat she was. She had had enough of hunting
gingerbread men, and she crept back to the kitchen to repair
damages.

The dog, who was very cross because his face had been badly
scratched, let go of the cook, and at last, catching sight of the
gingerbread man, made a bolt for the garden wall. The cook picked
herself up, and although her face was also badly scratched and her
dress was torn, she was determined to see the end of the chase, and
she followed after the dog, though this time more slowly.

When the gingerbread man saw the dog coming, he jumped down on the
farther side of the wall, and began running across the field. Now
in the middle of the field was a tree, and at the foot of the tree
was lying Jocko, the monkey. He wasn’t asleep–monkeys never
are–and when he saw the little man running across the field and
heard the cook calling, “Jocko, Jocko, stop the gingerbread man,”
he at once gave one big jump. But he jumped so fast and so far that
he went right over the gingerbread man, and as luck would have it,
he came down on the back of Towser, the dog, who had just scrambled
over the wall, and whom he had not before noticed. Towser was
naturally taken by surprise, but he turned his head around and
promptly bit off the end of the monkey’s tail, and Jocko quickly
jumped off again, chattering his indignation.

Meanwhile, the gingerbread man had got to the bottom of the tree,
and was saying to himself: “Now, I know the dog can’t climb a tree,
and I don’t believe the old cook can climb a tree; and as for the
monkey I’m not sure, for I’ve never seen a monkey before, but I am
going up.”

So he pulled himself up hand over hand until he had got to the
topmost branch.

But the monkey had jumped with one spring onto the lowest branch,
and in an instant he also was at the top of the tree.

The gingerbread man crawled out to the furthermost end of the
branch, and hung by one hand, but the monkey swung himself under
the branch, and stretching out his long arm, he pulled the
gingerbread man in. Then he held him up and looked at him so
hungrily that the little raisin mouth began to pucker down at the
corners, and the caraway-seed eyes filled with tears.

And then what do you think happened? Why, little Bobby himself came
running up. He had been taking his noon-day nap upstairs, and in
his dreams it seemed as if he kept hearing people call “Little
Bobby, little Bobby!” until finally he jumped up with a start, and
was so sure that some one was calling him that he ran down-stairs,
without even waiting to put on his shoes.

[Illustration: Bobby thought he heard someone calling.]

As he came down, he could see through the window in the field
beyond the garden the cook, and the dog, and the monkey, and could
even hear the barking of Towser and the chattering of Jocko. He
scampered down the walk, with his little bare feet pattering
against the warm gravel, climbed over the wall, and in a few
seconds arrived under the tree, just as Jocko was holding up the
poor little gingerbread man.

“Drop it, Jocko!” cried Bobby, and drop it Jocko did, for he always
had to mind Bobby. He dropped it so straight that the gingerbread
man fell right into Bobby’s uplifted pinafore.

Then Bobby held him up and looked at him, and the little raisin
mouth puckered down lower than ever, and the tears ran right out of
the caraway-seed eyes.

But Bobby was too hungry to mind gingerbread tears, and he gave one
big bite, and swallowed down both legs and a piece of the body.

“OH!” said the gingerbread man, “I’M ONE-THIRD GONE!”

Bobby gave a second bite, and swallowed the rest of the body and
the arms.

“OH!” said the gingerbread man, “I’M TWO-THIRDS GONE!”

Bobby gave a third bite, and gulped down the head.

“_Oh!_” said the gingerbread man, “_I’m all gone!_”

And so he was–and that is the end of the story.