Category: Stories

The Wise Woman

The Wise Woman
Tibetan Folk Tale
Retold by A.L. Shelton (1925)

Either going up or down a ladder it is an evil thing if you are pushed.
Tibetan Proverb.

A LONG, long time ago there were two countries adjoining each other and one was a little smaller than the other. The king of the farther and bigger country was named Gezongongdu, and the king of the smaller country was named Drashi. The king of the larger country thought he would like to make the smaller country subject to himself. “But first,” he said, “I want to see if their king is very wily and wise. If he isn’t I can conquer him; but if he is, I shall not attempt it.”

He took a mare and a colt that were exactly alike in color and size and asked the king to decide which was mare and which was colt. The head-men came first and looked and looked and couldn’t tell at all. One of them went home and told his wife and she said, “That’s easy, I’ll tell you how to do it. You make a manger and put some grass in it for them. The mother will keep pushing the food over toward the colt.” Sure enough it happened as she said it would, so they were able to answer the king’s first riddle.

The next day the king sent a stick shaped the same at both ends and asked them to tell which was the top and which the root. The men all came and looked and looked again, but couldn’t tell. The same head-man told his wife and she said, “That’s easy, throw it into the water and the head will go down stream first and the root will come last.” They did so and the problem was solved for the king that day.

Then the king of the larger country sent over two snakes, male and female, and none of the wise men could tell them apart. The head-man again went to his wife and she said, “That’s easy, take a piece of silk and place it near them, the female will think it is nice and soft and she will lie down on it, curl up and go to sleep; but the male will run away and refuse to sleep.” They did that and it all came true just as she said.

So the king of the big country decided he didn’t want to fight the king of the small country, for he was too smart. But the little king knew he had been saved from war and called up his head-man and asked him how he had got all these things right when everybody else had failed. He answered that he didn’t know anything about these things, it was his wife. So the king called the head-man’s wife and gave her many gifts and made her husband chief head-man of his kingdom.

The Ingratitude of Man

The Ingratitude of Man
Tibetan Folk Tale
Retold by A.L. Shelton (1925)

 

“Whatever you have promised make it not as changeable as a loop in a string, but as firm as a line on a rock.” ~Tibetan Proverb.

ONCE upon a time in a far, far away land, in a very high, high land, when the old world was very, very young and animals and men spoke and lived together, such a thing as gratitude was known.

Away in the mountains was a narrow road that passed along the side of a deep chasm. It was a dangerous place to travel, and along this path one night, just at dark, when a man, a crow, a rat and a snake were walking along together, a part of the road gave way and they fell into the depths below. They were not hurt, but much shaken, and they sat there waiting and thinking of their plight, wondering how they could get out, or what they could do to keep from starving, when a traveler coming along reached the broken road and looked down and saw them. They all at one time began to clamor and beg to be helped out, so he threw a long rope down to them and drew them all out one after the other. They all professed great gratitude and said they would never forget him and never forget the help he had given them, and that some time they’d help him. The traveler, in his heart, rather scorned the professions of friendship from the crow, the rat and the snake, and really didn’t believe they could do anything for him, but thought possibly the man might be able to aid him some time.

A long time after this had taken place, in the palace of the king, in this far away country, the queen was on the top of the flat roof washing her hair. She took off her jeweled necklace and laid it down near her on a low bench, and when her hair was dry went downstairs and forgot her jewels. Near by in the top of a tree sat the crow who had been rescued by the man a long time ago. He saw the necklace and said, “This will be a good present to give to that man who saved me from the chasm,” so he flew down, picked it up in his bill, flew away with it and took it to the man and told him where he got it.

The next day the traveler with the necklace met the man he had rescued and said, “Look here. I didn’t think that crow would be much of a friend, but see, he has brought me these magnificent jewels that belong to the queen.”

The rescued man, hearing this, went at once to the king and said to him, “The queen’s necklace you will find in the house of such a man,” and gave the name of his rescuer. The king at once sent his men, arrested the traveler and cast him into prison. In that dark old dungeon, with no bed to lie on, the walls dripping moisture, no food to eat, and no friend to bring him any, he was about to starve to death, when the rat he had rescued and who lived there came and asked him how he happened to be in that place. He related the story of his arrest and the ingratitude of the man he had saved and said he was about to starve and would surely die unless help came very soon. The rat went away, entered into the king’s palace, stole the food from his table, carried it to the man in the dungeon and saved him.

Another day the snake came in to see him and asked how it was that he happened to be in the prison. He told him the story again and the snake said, “Never mind, I’ll get you free.”

Now this snake was a magic snake, and making himself into a ghost wound around and around the king’s neck and almost choked him to death. He could be felt but not seen. The king wildly called for his great men, his wise men and his lamas who cast lots and told him that this ghost that was choking him was one of the patron saints of the man in the prison, and if he would loose the prisoner and treat him kindly, his troubles would cease. So he called for the prisoner to be brought before him, gave him much money and many jewels and sent him away speedily.

The king’s misery stopped and the traveler was made happy by the friendship of the three whom he had doubted and scorned.

How the Fox Fell a Victim to His Own Deceit

How the Fox Fell a Victim to His Own Deceit
Tibetan Folk Tale
Retold by A.L. Shelton (1925)

“Between the official and his people is confidence if the head-man is skillful.” ~Tibetan Proverb.

How the Fox fell Victim to His own Deceit
How the Fox fell Victim to His own Deceit

ONCE upon a time, away up in the corner of the mountains, in a little cave, lived a tiger and her baby cub. She had brought for this baby, one day when she was out hunting, a little fox to be his playmate. The fox had a happy time and an easy one, for he didn’t have to work or hunt, but played all day and the mother tiger kept them all supplied with food. One day she went out to hunt and found a little calf, which she took home to be another playmate for her son. But the fox was much displeased and became very jealous of the calf because he thought they all loved the calf better than he and that only the food that was left over was given to him. As a matter of fact, they treated him just the same as ever, but his heart was wrong and he began to plan how he might be revenged on the calf. After a while, the mother tiger became very ill, and as she was about to die she called the calf and her son to her side and said, “Although you are not of the same father and mother, yet you are brothers. I don’t want you to ever quarrel, but to live happily here together, and if any one should tell you lies don’t pay any attention to them, but always be friends.” So saying, she died.

Now the fox saw his opportunity. Every morning the calf was in the habit of running and playing and jumping and shaking his horns in fun, bellowing and taking exercise, while the tiger preferred to lie and rest. So one morning while the calf was skipping around, the fox slipped up to the tiger and said, “Although the calf says he is your friend, have you any idea what he is thinking about, when he runs and jumps and shakes his horns in that manner? In his heart he hates you, and in that manner is gaining strength in order that he may be able to kill you.”

This, of course, made the tiger suspicious and very angry. So daily he watched the calf very closely and became sour and surly.

Then the fox went to the calf and said, “You know your mother told you and the tiger that you were to be brothers, but see, he is growing larger and stronger every day and his heart has changed and he is preparing to kill and eat you.”

The tiger and the calf were now enemies and watched each other with a great deal of suspicion and were very unhappy. Finally one day the calf said to the tiger, “Why do you want to kill me and eat me? I have done you no harm and love you just as your mother said I should.”

The tiger replied, “I love you just the same and never thought of doing such a thing until the fox said you were preparing to kill me.”

Then they realized that the fox had been trying to make them enemies, and they decided on a plan to get even with the fox. The tiger said, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll have a sham fight saying we hate each other and we’re going to fight it out and see who wins. Ask him to be present and while we’re in the midst of it, I’ll attack him.”

The day came and they began their fight. They maneuvered round and round and seemed to be fighting very fiercely until they came very near the fox, when the tiger made a jump, landed on him and killed him and sat down and had a feast of the carcass.

The Tiger and the Frog

The Tiger and the Frog
Tibetan Folk Tales
Retold by A.L. Shelton (1925)

“The tall strong pine is a great help, for with its support the weak vine may climb as high.” ~Tibetan Proverb

Once upon a time, in the days when the world was young and all animals understood each other’s languages, an old, old tiger named Tsuden went out hunting for some food. As he was creeping quietly along the banks of a stream a frog saw him and was badly scared. He thought, “This tiger is coming to eat me up.” He climbed up on a little bunch of sod and when the tiger came near, called out, “Hello, where are you going?”

The tiger answered, “I am going up into the forest to hunt something to eat. I haven’t had any food for two or three days and I am very weak and hungry. I guess I’ll eat you up. You’re awfully small, but I can’t find anything else. Who are you, anyway?”

The frog replied, swelling up as big as he could, “I am the king of the frogs. I can jump any distance and can do anything. Here’s a river, let’s see who can jump across.”

The tiger answered, “All right,” and as he crouched ready to jump, the frog slipped up and

got hold of the end of his tail with his mouth, and when the tiger jumped he was thrown away up the bank across the river. After Tsuden got across he turned around and looked and looked into the river for the frog. But as the tiger turned, the frog let loose of his tail and said, “What are you looking for, old tiger, down there?”

The tiger whirled quickly, very much surprised to see the frog away up the bank behind him.

Said the frog, “Now I beat you in that test, let’s try another. Suppose we both vomit.” The tiger being empty could only throw up a little water, but the frog spit up some tiger hair. The tiger much astonished asked, “How do you happen to be able to do that?” The frog replied, “Oh, yesterday I killed a tiger and ate him, and these are just a few of the hairs that aren’t yet digested.”

The tiger began to think to himself, “He must be very strong. Yesterday he killed and ate a tiger, and now he has jumped farther than I did over the river. Guess I’d better slip away before he eats me.” Then he sidled away a little piece, quickly turned and began to run away as fast as he could, up the mountain.

He met a fox coming down who asked, “What’s the matter, why are you running away so fast?”

“Say,” the old tiger said, “I met the king of all the frogs, who is very strong. Why, he has been eating tigers and he jumped across the river and landed farther up the bank than I did.”

The fox laughed at him and said, “What, are you running away from that little frog? He is

THE FROG CLIMBED UP ON A LITTLE BUNCH OF SOD AND WHEN THE TIGER CAME NEAR, CALLED OUT: ”HELLO, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”
Click to enlarge
THE FROG CLIMBED UP ON A LITTLE BUNCH OF SOD AND WHEN THE TIGER CAME NEAR, CALLED OUT: ”HELLO, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

nothing at all. I am only a little fox, but I could put my foot on him and kill him.”

The tiger answered, “I know what this frog can do, but if you think you can kill him, I’ll go back with you. I am afraid you will get frightened and run away, however, so we must tie our tails together.”

So they tied their tails fast in a lot of knots and went down to see the frog, who still sat on his piece of sod, looking as important as he could. He saw them coming and called out to the fox, “You’re a great fox. You haven’t paid your toll to the king to-day nor brought any meat either. Is that a dog you’ve got tied to your tail and are you bringing him for my dinner?”

Then the tiger was frightened, for he thought the fox was taking him to the king to be eaten. So he turned and ran and ran as fast as he could go, dragging the poor fox with him, and if they are not dead, they are still running to-day.

Mangita and Larina

Mangita and Larina

Philippine Folklore
Retold by John Maurice Miller (1904)

Mangita and Larina
Mangita and Larina

This is a tale told in the lake district of Luzon. At times of rain or in winter the waters of the Laguna de Bai rise and detach from the banks a peculiar vegetation that resembles lettuce. These plants, which float for months down the Pasig River, gave rise, no doubt, to the story.

Many years ago there lived on the banks of the Laguna de Bai a poor fisherman whose wife had died, leaving him two beautiful daughters named Mangita and Larina.

Mangita had hair as black as night and a dark skin. She was as good as she was beautiful, and was loved by all for her kindness. She helped her father mend the nets and make the torches to fish with at night, and her bright smile lit up the little nipa house like a ray of sunshine.

Larina was fair and had long golden hair of which she was very proud. She was different from her sister, and never helped with the work, but spent the day combing her hair and catching butterflies. She would catch a pretty butterfly, cruelly stick a pin through it, and fasten it in her hair. Then she would go down to the lake to see her reflection in the clear water, and would laugh to see the poor butterfly struggling in pain. The people disliked her for her cruelty, but they loved Mangita very much. This made Larina jealous, and the more Mangita was loved, the more her sister thought evil of her.

One day a poor old woman came to the nipa house and begged for a little rice to put in her bowl. Mangita was mending a net and Larina was combing her hair in the doorway. When Larina saw the old woman she spoke mockingly to her and gave her a push that made her fall and cut her head on a sharp rock; but Mangita sprang to help her, washed the blood away from her head, and filled her bowl with rice from the jar in the kitchen.

The poor woman thanked her and promised never to forget her kindness, but to her sister she spoke not a word. Larina did not care, however, but laughed at her and mocked her as she painfully made her way again down the road. When she had gone Mangita took Larina to task for her cruel treatment of a stranger; but, instead of doing any good, it only caused Larina to hate her sister all the more.

Some time afterwards the poor fisherman died. He had gone to the big city down the river to sell his fish, and had been attacked with a terrible sickness that was raging there.

The girls were now alone in the world.

Mangita carved pretty shells and earned enough to buy food, but, though she begged Larina to try to help, her sister would only idle away the time.

The terrible sickness now swept everywhere and poor Mangita, too, fell ill. She asked Larina to nurse her, but the latter was jealous of her and would do nothing to ease her pain. Mangita grew worse and worse, but finally, when it seemed as if she would soon die, the door opened and the old woman to whom she had been so kind came into the room. She had a bag of seeds in her hand, and taking one she gave it to Mangita, who soon showed signs of being better, but was so weak that she could not give thanks.

The old woman then gave the bag to Larina and told her to give a seed to her sister every hour until she returned. She then went away and left the girls alone.

Larina watched her sister, but did not give her a single seed. Instead, she hid them in her own long hair and paid no attention to Mangita’s moans of pain. The poor girl’s cries grew weaker and weaker, but not a seed would her cruel sister give her. In fact, Larina was so jealous that she wished her sister to die.

When at last the old woman returned, poor Mangita was at the point of death. The visitor bent over the sick girl and then asked her sister if she had given Mangita the seeds. Larina showed her the empty bag and said she had given them as directed. The old woman searched the house, but of course could not find the seeds. She then asked Larina again if she had given them to Mangita. Again the cruel girl said that she had done so.

Suddenly the room was filled with a blinding light, and when Larina could see once more, in place of the old woman stood a beautiful fairy holding the now well Mangita in her arms.

She pointed to Larina and said, “I am the poor woman who asked for rice. I wished to know your hearts. You were cruel and Mangita was kind, so she shall live with me in my island home in the lake. As for you, because you tried to do evil to your good sister, you shall sit at the bottom of the lake forever, combing out the seeds you have hidden in your hair.” Then, she clapped her hands and a number of elves appeared and carried the struggling Larina away.

“Come,” said the fairy to Mangita, and she carried her to her beautiful home, where she lives in peace and happiness.

As for Larina, she sits at the bottom of the lake and combs her hair. As she combs a seed out, another comes in, and every seed that is combed out becomes a green plant that floats out of the lake and down the Pasig.

And to this day people can see them, and know that Larina is being punished for her wickedness.

THE LIGHT OF THE FLY

THE LIGHT OF THE FLY
Philippine Folklore
Retold by John Maurice Miller (1904)

The Light of the Fly
The Light of the Fly

The King of the Air was in terrible rage,
For some one had stolen his ring;
And every one wondered whoever could dare
To do such a terrible thing.
He called all his subjects together and said,
“To him that shall find it I’ll give
Whatever he asks, and this bounty of mine
Shall last while his family live.”

Away went his good loyal subjects to search,
And no one remained but a fly.
“Be off!” said the King, “go and join in the search;
Would you slight such a ruler as I?”
Then up spoke the fly with his little wee voice:
“The ring is not stolen,” he said.
“It stuck to your crown when you put it away,
And now it’s on top of your head.”

The King in surprise took the crown from his head,
And there, sure enough, was the ring.
“No wonder you saw it, with so many eyes;
But what is your wish?” said the King.
“O King,” said the fly, “I work hard all the day,
And I never can go out at night.
I should like to go then and be gay with my friends,
So all that I wish is a light.”

“You shall have it at once,” said the gratified King,
And he fastened a light to the fly,
Who straightway returned to his home with the prize
That was worth more than money could buy.
So now you can see him at night with his light
And from him this lesson may learn:
To keep your eyes open and see the least thing,
And Fortune will come in its turn.

The Passing of Loku

The Passing of Loku
Philippine Folklore
Retold by John Maurice Miller (1904)

Passing of Loku, the
Passing of Loku, the

The tale of Loku is applied to a large, ugly lizard which climbs to the rafters of houses and gives the peculiar cry that suggests its name. This lizard, although hideous, is harmless; it lives on centipedes. Its strange cry may be heard everywhere in the Philippine Islands.

Hundreds of years ago a very wicked king named Loku ruled the Philippines. He was cruel and unjust, and condemned to death all who refused to do his bidding. He had vast armies and made war on all until his name was feared everywhere.

His power was very great. He conquered every nation that opposed him and killed so many people that the god, viewing the slaughter from his throne above, sent an angel to order him to cease from warfare and to rule the land in peace.

Loku was in his palace, planning an assault on his neighbors, when a soft light filled the chamber, and a beautiful angel appeared and delivered the mandate of the master.

The cruel king paid no heed, but dismissed the holy messenger in scorn. “Tell your master,” said he, “to deliver his message in person. I do not deal with messengers. I am Loku. All fear my name. I am the great Loku.”

Hardly had he spoken when the palace shook to its foundations and a mighty voice thundered, “Is it thus thou Slightest my word? Thou art Loku. All shall indeed know thy name. From every crevice thou shalt forever cry it in a form that suits thy ill nature.”

The courtiers, alarmed by the shock, rushed to the king’s chamber, but Loku was nowhere to be found. The royal robes lay scattered on the floor and the only living thing to be seen was an ugly lizard that blinked at them from among the plans on the table.

They searched far and wide, and when no trace of the king could be found the courtiers divided the kingdom and ruled so wisely and well that there was peace for many years.

As for Loku, you may still hear him fulfilling his punishment. From crack and crevice, tree and shrub, he calls his name from dark till dawn: “Lok-u! Lok-u! Lok-u!”

And he must cry it forever.

JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK

JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK
Hans Christian Andersen

public-domain-vintage-childrens-book-illustration-arthur-rackham-jack-and-the-beanstalk Illustration -Arthur Rackham

THERE lived a poor widow, whose cottage stood in a country village, a long distance from London, for many years.

The widow had only a child named Jack, whom she gratified in everything; the consequence of her partiality was, that Jack paid little attention to anything she said; and he was heedless and extravagant. His follies were not owing to bad disposition, but to his mother never having chided him. As she was not wealthy, and he would not work, she was obliged to support herself and him by selling everything she had. At last nothing remained only a cow.

The widow, with tears in her eyes, could not help reproaching Jack. “Oh! you wicked boy,” said she, “by your prodigal course of life you have now brought us both to fall! Heedless, heedless boy! I have not money enough to buy a bit of bread for another day: nothing remains but my poor cow, and that must be sold, or we must starve!”

Jack was in a degree of tenderness for a few minutes, but soon over; and then becoming very hungry for want of food he teased his poor mother to let him sell the cow; to which at last she reluctantly consented.

As he proceeded on his journey he met a butcher, who inquired why he was driving the cow from home? Jack replied he was going to sell it. The butcher had some wonderful beans, of different colours, in his bag, which attracted Jack’s notice. This the butcher saw, who, knowing Jack’s easy temper, resolved to take advantage of it, and offered all the beans for the cow. The foolish boy thought it a great offer. The bargain was momently struck, and the cow exchanged for a few paltry beans. When Jack hastened home with the beans and told his mother and showed them to her, she kicked the beans away in a great passion. They flew in all directions, and were extended as far as the garden.

Early in the morning Jack arose from his bed, and seeing something strange from the window, he hastened downstairs into the garden, where he soon found that some of the beans had grown in root, and sprung up wonder. fully: the stalks grew in an immense thickness, and had so entwined, that they formed a ladder like a chain in view.

Looking upwards, he could not descry the top, it seemed to be lost in the clouds. He tried it, discovered it firm, and not to be shaken. A new idea immediately struck him: he would climb the bean-stalk, and see to whence it would lead. Full of this plan, which made him forget even his hunger, Jack hastened to communicate his intention to his mother.

He instantly set out, and after climbing for some hours, reached the top of the bean-stalk, fatigued and almost exhausted. Looking round, he was surprised to find himself in a strange country; it looked to be quite a barren desert not a tree, shrub, house, or living creature was to be seen.

Jack sat himself pensively upon a block of stone, and thought of his mother; his hunger attacked him, and now he appeared sorrowful for his disobedience in climbing the bean-stalk against her will; and concluded that he must now die for want of food.

However, he walked on, hoping to see a house where he might beg something to eat. Suddenly he observed a beautiful young female at some distance. She was dressed in an elegant manner, and had a small white wand in her hand, on the top of which was a peacock of pure gold. She approached and said: “I will reveal to you a story your mother dare not. But before I begin, I require a solemn promise on your part to do what I command. I am a fairy, and unless you perform exactly what I direct you to do, you will deprive me of the power to assist you; and there is little doubt but that you will die in the attempt.” Jack was rather frightened at this caution, but promised to follow her directions.

“Your father was a rich man, with a disposition greatly benevolent. It was his practice never to refuse relief to the deserving in his neighbourhood; but, on the contrary, to seek out the helpless and distressed. Not many miles from your father’s house lived a huge giant, who was the dread of the country around for cruelty and oppression. This creature was moreover of a very envious disposition, and disliked to hear others talked of for their goodness and humanity, and he vowed to do him a mischief, so that he might no longer hear his good actions made the subject of every one’s conversation. Your father was too good a man to fear evil from others; consequently it was not long before the cruel giant found an opportunity to put his wicked threats into practice; for hearing that your parents were about passing a few days with a friend at some distance from home, he caused your father to be waylaid and murdered, and your mother to be seized on their way homeward.

“At the time this happened, you were but a few months old. Your poor mother, almost dead with affright and horror, was borne away by the cruel giant’s emissaries to a dungeon under his house, in which she and her poor babe were both long confined as prisoners. Distracted at the absence of your parents, the servants went in them; but no tidings of either could be obtained. Meantime he caused a will to be found making over all your father’s property to him as your guardian, and as such he took open possession.

“After your mother had been some months the giant offered to restore her to liberty, on con she would solemnly swear that she would never divulge the story of her wrongs to any one. To put it out of power to do him any harm, should she break her oath, the giant had her put on ship-board, and taken to a distant country where he had her left with no more money for her support than what she obtained from the sale of a few had secreted in her dress.

“I was appointed your father’s guardian at his birth; but fairies have laws to which they are subject as well as mortals. A short time before the giant assassinated your father, I transgressed; my punishment was a suspension of my power for a limited time, an unfortunate circumstance as it entirely prevented my assisting your father, even when I most wished to do so. The day on which you met the butcher, as you went to sell your mother’s cow, my power was restored. It was I who secretly prompted you to take the beans in exchange for the cow. By my power the bean-stalk grew to so great a height, and formed a ladder. The giant lives in this country; you are the person appointed to punish him for all his wickedness. You will have dangers and difficulties to encounter, but you must persevere in avenging the death of your father, or you will not not prosper in any of your undertakings.

“As to the giant’s possessions, everything he has is yours, though you are deprived of it; you may take, therefore, what part of it you can. You must, however, be careful, for such is his love for gold, that the first loss he discovers will make him outrageous and very watchful for the future. But you must still pursue him; for it is only by stratagem that you can ever hope to overcome him, and become possessed of your rightful property, and the means of retributive justice overtaking him for his barbarous murder. One thing I desire is, do not let your mother know you are acquainted with your father’s history till you see me again.

“Go along the direct road; you will soon see the house where your cruel enemy lives. While you do as I order you, I will protect and guard you; but remember, if you disobey my commands, a dreadful punishment awaits you.”

As soon as she had concluded she disappeared, leaving Jack to follow his journey. He walked on till after sunset, when, to his great joy, he espied a large mansion. This pleasant sight revived his drooping spirits; he redoubled his speed, and reached it shortly. A well-looking woman’ stood at the door: he accosted her, begging she would give him a morsel of bread and a night’s lodging. She expressed the greatest surprise at seeing him; and said it was quite uncommon to see any strange creature. near their house, for it was mostly known that her husband was a very cruel and powerful giant, and one that would eat human flesh, if he could possibly get it.

This account terrified Jack greatly, but still, not forgetting the fairy’s protection, he hoped to elude the giant, and therefore he entreated the woman to take him in for one night only, and hide him where she thought proper. The good woman at last suffered herself to be persuaded, for her disposition was remarkably compassionate, and at last led him into the house.

First they passed an elegant hall, finely furnished; they then proceeded through several spacious rooms, all in the same style of grandeur, but they looked to be quite forsaken and desolate. A long gallery came next; it was very dark, just large enough to show that, instead of a wall each side, there was a grating of iron, which parted off a dismal dungeon, from whence issued the groans of several poor victims whom the cruel giant reserved in confinement for his voracious appetite. Poor Jack was in a dreadful fright at witnessing such a horrible scene, which caused him to fear that he would never see his mother, but be captured lastly for the giant’s meat; but still he recollected the fairy, and a gleam of hope forced itself into his heart.

The good woman then took Jack to a spacious kitchen, where a great fire was kept; she bade him sit down, and gave him plenty to eat and drink. In the meantime he had done his meal and enjoyed himself, but was disturbed by a hard knocking at the gate, so loud as to cause the house to shake. Jack was concealed in the oven, and the giant’s wife ran to let in her husband.

Jack heard him accost her in a voice like thunder, saying: “Wife! wife! I smell fresh meat!” “Oh! my dear,” replied she, “it is nothing but the people in the dungeon.” The giant seemed to believe her, and at last seated himself by the fireside, whilst the wife prepared supper.

By degrees Jack endeavoured to look at the monster through a small crevice. He was much surprised to see what an amazing quantity he devoured, and supposed he would never have done eating and drinking. After his supper was ended, a very curious hen was brought and placed on the table before him. Jack’s curiosity was so

great to see what would happen. He observed that it stood quiet before him, and every time the giant said: “Lay!” the hen laid an egg of solid gold. The giant amused himself a long time with his hen; meanwhile his wife went to bed. At length he fell asleep, and snored like the roaring of a cannon. Jack finding him still asleep at daybreak, crept softly from his hiding-place, seized the hen, and ran off with her as fast as his legs could possibly allow him.

Jack easily retraced his way to the bean-stalk, and descended it better and quicker than he expected. His mother was overjoyed to see him. “Now, mother,” said Jack, “I have brought you home that which will make you rich.” The hen produced as many golden eggs as they desired; they sold them, and soon became possessed of as much riches as they wanted.

For a few months Jack and his mother lived very happy, but he longed to pay the giant another visit. Early in the morning he again climbed the bean-stalk, and reached the giant’s mansion late in the evening: the woman was at the door as before. Jack told her a pitiful tale, and prayed for a night’s shelter. She told him that she had admitted a poor hungry boy once before, and the little ingrate had stolen one of the giant’s treasures, and ever since that she had been cruelly used. She however led him to the kitchen, gave him a supper, and put him in a lumber closet. Soon after the giant came in, took his supper, and ordered his wife to bring down his bags of gold and silver. Jack peeped out of his hiding-place, and observed the giant counting over his treasures, and after which he carefully put them in bags again, fell asleep, and snored as before. Jack crept quietly from his hiding-place, and approached the giant, when a little dog under the chair barked furiously. Contrary to his expectation, the giant slept on soundly, and the dog ceased. Jack seized the bags, reached the door in safety, and soon arrived at the bottom of the bean-stalk. When he reached his mother’s cottage, he found it quite deserted. Greatly surprised he ran into the village, and an old woman directed him to a house, where he found his mother apparently dying. On being informed of our hero’s safe return, his mother revived and soon recovered. Jack then presented two bags of gold and silver to her.

His mother discovered that something preyed upon his mind heavily, and endeavoured to discover the cause; but Jack knew too well what the consequence would be should he discover the cause of his melancholy to her. He did his utmost therefore to conquer the great desire which now forced itself upon him in spite of himself for another journey up the bean-stalk.

On the longest day Jack arose as soon as it was light, ascended the bean-stalk, and reached the top with some little trouble. He found the road, journey, etc., the same as on the former occasions. He arrived at the giant’s house in the evening, and found his wife standing as usual at the door. Jack now appeared a different character, and had disguised himself so completely that she did not appear to have any recollection of him. However, when he begged admittance, be found it very difficult to persuade her. At last he prevailed, was allowed to go in, and was concealed in the copper.

When the giant returned, he said, as usual: “Wife! wife! I smell fresh meat!” But jack felt quite composed, as he had said so before, and had soon been satisfied. However, the giant started up suddenly, and notwithstanding all his wife could say, he searched all round the room. Whilst this was going forward, Jack was much terrified, and ready to die with fear, wishing himself at home a thousand times; but when the giant approached the copper, and put his hand upon the lid, Jack thought his death was certain. Fortunately the giant ended his search there, without moving the lid, and seated himself quietly by the fireside.

When the giant’s supper was over, he commanded his wife to fetch down his harp. Jack peeped under the copper-lid, and soon saw the most beautiful one that could be imagined. It was put by the giant on the table, who said: “Play,” and it instantly played of its own accord. The music was uncommonly fine. Jack was delighted, and felt more anxious to get the harp into his possession than either of the former treasures.

The giant’s soul was not attuned to harmony, and the music soon lulled him into a sound sleep. Now, therefore, was the time to carry off the harp, as the giant appeared to be in a more profound sleep than usual. Jack soon made up his mind, got out of the copper, and seized the harp; which, however, being enchanted by a fairy, called out loudly: “Master, master!”

The giant awoke, stood up, and tried to pursue Jack; but he had drank so much that he could not stand. Jack ran as quick as he could. In a little time the giant recovered sufficiently to walk slowly, or rather to reel after him. Had he been sober, he must have overtaken Jack instantly; but as he then was, Jack contrived to be first at the top of the bean-stalk. The giant called to him all the way along the road in a voice like thunder, and was sometimes very near to him.

The moment Jack got down the bean-stalk, he called out for a hatchet: one was brought him directly. Just at that instant the giant began to descend, but Jack with his hatchet cut the bean-stalk close off at the root, and the giant fell headlong into the garden. The fall instantly killed him. Jack heartily begged his mother’s pardon for all the sorrow and affliction he had caused her, promising most faithfully to be dutiful and obedient to her in future. He proved as good as his word, and became a pattern of affectionate behaviour and attention to his parent.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

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

public-domain-vintage-childrens-book-illustration-arthur-rackham-three-bears 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

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

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

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

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

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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

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

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: