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diff --git a/37464-h/37464-h.htm b/37464-h/37464-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f54866a --- /dev/null +++ b/37464-h/37464-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3838 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bluebeard, by Clifton Johnson</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h1.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; + font-size:190%; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em;} + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; + font-size:0.9em; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1em;} + h3.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; + font-size:110%; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + table.c {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps} + div.center>:first-child {margin: .5em auto 0 auto;text-align:center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; margin: 20px auto; width:35%} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Bluebeard, by Clifton Johnson, Illustrated by +Harry L. Smith</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Bluebeard</p> +<p>Author: Clifton Johnson</p> +<p>Release Date: September 17, 2011 [eBook #37464]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUEBEARD***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-weight:bold;'>BEDTIME WONDER TALES</span></p> +<p>BY</p> +<p>CLIFTON JOHNSON</p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Hop-o’-My-Thumb</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Babes in the Wood</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Brave Tin Soldier</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Fox and the Little Red Hen</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Golden Hair and the Three Bears</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Cinderella</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Puss in Boots</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Jack and the Beanstalk</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Little Red Riding-Hood</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Story of Chicken-Licken</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Bluebeard</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Tom Thumb</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Pied Piper</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The Sleeping Beauty</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>St. George and the Dragon</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<div class='center'> +<p>Other books will be added to</p> +<p>the series from time to time.</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div><a name='img01' id='img01'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src="images/img01.jpg" alt="Bluebeard’s Wife and the Forbidden Room (Page 16)" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>Bluebeard’s Wife and the Forbidden Room (Page 16)</em></span> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-style:italic;'>BEDTIME WONDER TALES</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>BLUEBEARD</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>BY</em></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>CLIFTON JOHNSON</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>ILLUSTRATED BY</em></p> +<p>HARRY L. SMITH</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p>NEW YORK</p> +<p>THE MACAULAY COMPANY</p> +<p>PUBLISHERS</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>Copyright, 1920,</p> +<p>By THE MACAULAY COMPANY</p> +<p>All Rights Reserved</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Printed in the U. S. A.</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.2em;'>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</span></p> +</div> +<p> +The books in this series of Bedtime Wonder +Tales are made up of favorite stories +from the folklore of all nations. Such +stories are particularly enjoyed by children +from four to twelve years of age. As here +told they are free from the savagery, distressing +details, and excessive pathos which +mar many of the tales in the form that they +have come down to us from a barbaric past. +But there has been no sacrifice of the simplicity +and humor and sweetness that give +them perennial charm. +</p> +<p> +The sources of the stories in this volume +are as follows: Page 11, France; 24, Grimm; +36, England; 49, Hindustan; 58, Italy; 78, +Germany; 90, Scotland; 103, Japan; 118, +Ireland; 127, American Negro. +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>CONTENTS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='table of contents'> +<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Bluebeard</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chI'>11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Blood-Stained Key</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chII'>17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Goblin in a Bottle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIII'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Scholar’s Fortune</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIV'>32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Yallery Brown</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chV'>36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Troublesome Helper</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVI'>43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Little Jackal</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVII'>49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Blind Ogre</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVIII'>58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Seven Doves</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIX'>64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Time and His Mother</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chX'>71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Blockhead Hans</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXI'>78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Rival Suitors</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXII'>85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cunning Tom</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIII'>90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Miser’s Hired Man</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIV'>96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Boy in a Peach</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXV'>103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Warrior’s Helpers</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVI'>108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Island of Demons</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVII'>113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Andrew Coffey</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVIII'>118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Careless Mr. Buzzard</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIX'>127</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='loi'> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>Bluebeard’s Wife and the Forbidden Room</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img01'>Frontispiece</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>The Goblin Threatens the Scholar</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img02'>28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>The Alligator Goes to the Jackal’s House</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img03'>54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>Appealing to the Mother of Time</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img04'>72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>Blockhead Hans and the Dead Crow</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img05'>82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>The Monkey and the Warrior</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#img06'>110</a></td></tr> +</table> +<h1>BLUEBEARD—AND OTHER FOLKLORE STORIES</h1> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>I—BLUEBEARD</h2> +<p> +Once upon a time—but it was a long while +ago; so long, indeed, that the oldest oaks in +our forests were not yet acorns on the bough—there +was a man who lived in a splendid +house and had dishes of gold and silver, +chairs and sofas covered with flowered +satin, and curtains of the richest silk. But, +alas! this man was so unlucky as to have a +blue beard, which made him look so frightfully +ugly that the first impulse of every +woman and girl he met was to run away +from him. +</p> +<p> +In the same vicinity lived a lady of quality +who had two beautiful daughters, and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +wished to marry one of them. He was even +willing to let the lady decide which of the +two it should be. +</p> +<p> +Neither of the daughters, however, would +have him, and the lady sighed to think of +her children’s obstinacy in refusing to become +the mistress of such a magnificent +mansion. But they were not able to make +up their minds to marry a man with a blue +beard. Their aversion was increased by the +fact that he already had had several wives, +and no one knew surely what had become of +them, though many were the excuses he made +to account for their disappearance. +</p> +<p> +At length Bluebeard, in order to cure the +dislike of the lady’s daughters, invited them +and their mother and some young friends to +spend a whole week at his house. They +came, and nothing was thought of but feasting, +dancing, and music, and parties for +hunting and fishing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +</p> +<p> +The guests were loaded with costly gifts +and were so delightfully entertained that before +many days had passed, Fatima, the +younger of the two sisters, began to imagine +that the beard, which she had thought was +dreadfully ugly was not so <em>very</em> blue after +all. By the end of the week the kindness +of her host had made such an impression +that she concluded it would be a pity to refuse +to become his wife on account of the +trifling circumstance of his having a blue +beard. +</p> +<p> +So they were married shortly afterward, +and at first everything went well. A month +passed, and one morning Bluebeard told +Fatima that he must go on a journey which +would take him away for at least six weeks. +He kissed her affectionately, gave her the +keys of the whole mansion, and bade her +amuse herself in any manner that she +pleased while he was gone. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +</p> +<p> +“But, my dear,” he added, in concluding, +“I would have you notice among the keys +the small one of polished steel. It unlocks +the little room at the end of the long corridor. +Go where you will and do what you +choose, except in the matter of that one +room, which I forbid your entering.” +</p> +<p> +Fatima promised faithfully to obey his +orders, and she watched him get into his +carriage while she stood at the door of the +mansion waving her hand to him as he drove +away. +</p> +<p> +Lest she should be lonesome during her +husband’s absence, she invited numerous +guests to keep her company. Most of them +had not dared to venture into the house +while Bluebeard was there, but now they +came without any urging or delay, eager to +see its splendors. +</p> +<p> +They ran about upstairs and downstairs, +peeping into the closets and wardrobes, admiring the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +rooms, and exclaiming over the +beauties of the tapestries, sofas, cabinets, +and tables, and of the mirrors in which they +could see themselves from head to foot. +With one consent they praised what they +saw, and envied the good fortune of their +friend, the mistress of all this magnificence. +</p> +<p> +She went around unlocking the doors for +their convenience until the only door that +remained untouched was that of the obscure +room at the end of the long corridor. She +wondered why she had been forbidden to +enter that room. What was there in it? +Even if she did go in, her husband need never +know that she had done so. +</p> +<p> +The more she thought about it the more +curious she became. Finally she left her +guests and hurried along the dark narrow +passage that led to the forbidden room. +At the door she hesitated, recalling her husband’s +command, and fearful of his anger; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +but the temptation was too strong, and she +tremblingly opened the door. +</p> +<p> +The window shutters were closed and the +light was so dim that at first she could see +nothing. However, her eyes gradually became +used to the dusk and she discovered +that on the floor lay the bodies of all the +wives Bluebeard had married. +</p> +<p> +Fatima uttered a cry of horror, her +strength left her, and she thought she would +die from fear. The key of the room fell +from her hand, but she picked it up, hastily +retreated to the corridor, and locked the +door. +</p> +<p> +Yet she could not forget what she had +seen, and when she returned to her guests +her mind was too disturbed for her to attend +to their comfort, or to attempt to entertain +them. One by one they bade their +hostess good-by and went home, until no one +was left with her but her sister Anne. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>II—THE BLOOD-STAINED KEY</h2> +<p> +After all the guests had gone, Fatima noticed +a spot of blood on the key of the fatal +room. She tried to wipe it off, but the spot +remained. Then she washed the key with +soap and scoured it with sand, but her efforts +were in vain, for it was a magic key, +and only Bluebeard himself had the power +to remove the stain. At last she decided not +to put it with the other keys, but to hide it, +hoping her husband would not miss it. +</p> +<p> +Bluebeard returned unexpectedly that +very evening. He said a horseman had met +him on the road and told him that the business +which had taken him from home had +been satisfactorily settled so there was no +need of his making the long journey. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +</p> +<p> +Fatima tried to welcome her husband with +every appearance of pleasure, but all the +time she was dreading the moment when he +should ask for the keys. This he did not do +until the following morning. Then she gave +them to him with such a blanched face and +shaking hand that he easily guessed what +had happened. +</p> +<p> +“Why have you not brought me the key +of the little room?” he asked sternly. +</p> +<p> +“I must have left it on my table upstairs,” +she faltered. +</p> +<p> +“Bring it to me at once,” Bluebeard said, +and she was forced to go and make a pretence +of searching for it. +</p> +<p> +When she dared delay no longer, she went +to her husband and surrendered the key. +He immediately demanded the cause of the +stain on it, and she hesitated, at a loss what +reply to make. +</p> +<p> +“But why need I ask?” he shouted. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +know the meaning of it right well. You +have disobeyed my commands and have been +into the room I ordered you not to enter. +So you shall go in again, madam, but you +will never return. You shall take your +place among the ladies you saw there.” +</p> +<p> +Fatima fell on her knees at his feet weeping +and begging for mercy, but the cruel man +had a heart like a stone, and he told her to +prepare for death. +</p> +<p> +“Since I must die,” she said, “at least +grant me a little time to say my prayers.” +</p> +<p> +“I will give you ten minutes, but not one +moment more,” Bluebeard responded. +</p> +<p> +Poor Fatima hastened to a little turret +chamber whither her sister had fled in terror +and grief. “Sister Anne!” she cried, “go +up to the top of the tower and see if our two +brothers are coming. They promised to +visit me today. If they should be in sight +beckon them to come quickly.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +</p> +<p> +So the sister climbed the narrow staircase +that led to the top of the tower. No sooner +did she finish the ascent than Fatima called +from below, “Anne, Sister Anne, do you see +any one coming?” +</p> +<p> +Anne replied sadly, “I see nothing but +the sun shining and the grass growing tall +and green.” +</p> +<p> +Several times Fatima put the same question +and each time she received the same answer. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile Bluebeard was waiting with a +scimitar in one hand and his watch in the +other. At length he shouted in a fierce +voice: “The ten minutes are almost gone! +Make an end to your prayers!” +</p> +<p> +“Anne, Sister Anne!” Fatima called +softly, “look again. Is there no one on the +road?” +</p> +<p> +“I see a cloud of dust rising in the distance,” +Anne answered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +</p> +<p> +“Perchance it is made by our brothers,” +Fatima said. +</p> +<p> +“Alas! no, my dear sister,” Anne responded. +“The dust has been raised by a +flock of sheep.” +</p> +<p> +“Fatima!” Bluebeard roared, “I command +you to come down.” +</p> +<p> +“One moment—just one moment more!” +the wretched wife sobbed. +</p> +<p> +Then she called, “Anne, Sister Anne, do +you see any one coming?” +</p> +<p> +“I see two horsemen riding in this direction,” +Anne replied, “but they are a great +way off.” +</p> +<p> +“They must be our brothers,” Fatima +said. “Heaven be praised! Oh, sign to +them to hasten!” +</p> +<p> +By this time the enraged Bluebeard was +howling so loud for his wife to come down +that his voice shook the whole mansion. +Fatima dared delay no longer, and she descended to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +the great hall, threw herself at +her wicked husband’s feet, and once more +begged him to spare her life. +</p> +<p> +“Silence!” Bluebeard cried. “Your entreaties +are wasted! You shall die!” +</p> +<p> +He seized her by the hair and raised his +scimitar to strike. At that moment a loud +knocking was heard at the gates, and Bluebeard +paused with a look of alarm. +</p> +<p> +Anne had run down to let the brothers in, +and they hurried to the hall, flung open the +door, and appeared with swords ready +drawn in their hands. They rushed at +Bluebeard, and one rescued his sister from +her husband’s grasp while the other gave the +wretch a sword-thrust that put an end to +his life. +</p> +<p> +So the wicked Bluebeard perished, and +Fatima became mistress of all his riches. +Part of her wealth she bestowed on her sister, +Anne, and part on her two brothers. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +The rest she retained herself, and presently +she married a man whose kind treatment +helped her to forget her unfortunate experience +with Bluebeard. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>III—A GOBLIN IN A BOTTLE</h2> +<p> +Once upon a time there was a poor woodcutter +who worked from daylight to dark, +and as he spent little he saved some money. +He had an only son, and one day he said to +him: “This money which I have earned by +the sweat of my brow shall be spent on your +education. Go to school and learn something +useful that you may be able to support +me in my old age when my limbs become +so stiff that I am obliged to sit at +home.” +</p> +<p> +The son went away to a great school and +was very industrious and made excellent +progress. He had been at the school a long +time, but had not learned all that was to be +learned when his father’s store of money +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +was exhausted, and he was obliged to come +home. +</p> +<p> +“I can give you no more,” his father said +sadly, “for in these dear times I am scarcely +able to earn my daily bread.” +</p> +<p> +“Make yourself easy as to that, my good +father,” the son responded. “I will suit +myself to the times.” +</p> +<p> +When the father was about to go to the +forest to chop, the son said, “I will go with +you and help.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah! but you have never been used to +such hard work,” the father objected. +“You must not attempt it. Besides, I have +only one ax and no money to buy another.” +</p> +<p> +“Go and ask your neighbor to lend you an +ax till I have earned enough to buy one for +myself,” the son said. +</p> +<p> +So the father borrowed an ax, and he and +the scholar went together to the forest, +where the young man helped with the work +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +and was very lively and merry. About +noon, when the sun stood right over their +heads, the father sat down to rest for a while +and eat his dinner. +</p> +<p> +The scholar, however, took his share of +bread and said: “I am not tired. I will +go a little deeper into the forest and look +for birds’ nests.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you silly fellow!” his father exclaimed, +“why do you want to run about? +You will get so weary you will not be able +to raise your arm. Keep quiet a bit and sit +down here with me.” +</p> +<p> +But the young man would not do that. +He went off among the trees eating his +bread and peeping about among the bushes +for nests. To and fro he wandered until he +came to an immense hollow oak tree. The +tree was certainly hundreds of years old, +and five men taking hold of hands could not +have reached around it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +</p> +<p> +The scholar had stopped to look at this +great tree thinking that many a bird’s nest +must be built within its hollow trunk when +he fancied he heard a voice. He listened +and there came to his ears a half-smothered +cry of “Let me out!” +</p> +<p> +He looked around, but could see no one. +Indeed, it seemed to him that the voice came +from the ground. So he called, “Where are +you?” +</p> +<p> +The voice replied, “Here I am among the +roots of the oak tree. Let me out! Let me +out!” +</p> +<p> +The scholar therefore began to search at +the foot of the tree where the roots spread. +Finally in a little hollow, he found a glass +bottle. He picked it up and held it so he +could look through toward the light. Then he +perceived a thing inside shaped like a +frog which kept jumping up and down. +</p> +<p> +“Let me out! Let me out!” the thing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +cried again; and the scholar, not suspecting +any evil, drew the stopper from the bottle. +</p> +<p> +Immediately the little creature sprang +forth, and it grew and grew until in a few +moments it stood before the scholar a frightful +goblin half as tall as the oak tree. “Do +you know what your reward is for letting me +out of that glass bottle?” the goblin cried +with a voice of thunder. +</p> +<p> +“No,” the scholar answered without +fear, “how should I?” +</p> +<p> +“Then I will tell you that I must break +your neck,” the goblin announced. +</p> +<p> +“You should have told me that before,” +the scholar said, “and you would have stayed +where you were. But my head will remain +on my shoulders in spite of you, for there +are several people’s opinions to be asked yet +about this matter.” +</p> +<div><a name='img02' id='img02'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/img02.jpg" alt="The Goblin Threatens The Scholar" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>The Goblin Threatens The Scholar</em></span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<p> +“Keep your people out of my way,” the +goblin snarled. “I was shut up in that bottle +for a punishment, and I have been kept +there for such a length of time that I long +ago vowed I would kill whoever let me out +for not coming to release me sooner. So I +shall break your neck.” +</p> +<p> +“Softly, softly!” the scholar responded, +“that is quicker said than done. I don’t +know whether to believe your word or not. +You told me you were in that bottle. But +how could such a giant as you are get into so +small a space? Prove that you spoke the +truth by retiring into the bottle, and afterward +do what you please with me.” +</p> +<p> +Full of pride, the goblin boasted, “I can +easily furnish you the proof you ask”; and +he shrank and shrank until he was as small +as before. Then he crept back into the bottle. +</p> +<p> +Instantly the scholar replaced the stopper, +and put the bottle once more where +it had been among the oak roots. He picked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +up his ax and was about to go back to his +father when the goblin cried lamentably: +“Oh, let me out! Do let me out.” +</p> +<p> +“No, not a second time,” the scholar said. +“I shall not give you a chance to take my +life again in a hurry, after I have got you +safe.” +</p> +<p> +“Free me,” the goblin pleaded, “and I +will give you wealth that will last you your +life-time.” +</p> +<p> +“No, no, you will only deceive me!” the +scholar declared. +</p> +<p> +“You are disregarding your own best interests,” +the goblin said. “Instead of +harming you I will reward you richly.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I will hazard letting him out,” the +scholar thought, “for he may after all keep +his word.” +</p> +<p> +Then he addressed the goblin, saying: “I +will release you. See to it that you do as +you have promised.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +</p> +<p> +So he removed the stopper and the goblin +jumped out and soon became as big as before. +“Now you shall have your reward,” +the monster said, and he reached the scholar +a little piece of rag. “Apply that to a +wound, and the wound will at once heal,” he +explained; “or touch it to iron and the iron +will change to silver.” +</p> +<p> +“I will try it,” the scholar responded, and +he went to the oak tree and slashed off a +piece of bark with his ax. Then he touched +the place with the rag, and immediately the +wound closed up as if the bark had never +been gashed at all. +</p> +<p> +“That is quite satisfactory,” the scholar +said. “Now we can separate.” +</p> +<p> +“I thank you for releasing me,” the goblin +remarked as he turned away. +</p> +<p> +“And I thank you heartily for your present,” +the scholar said. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>IV—A SCHOLAR’S FORTUNE</h2> +<p> +After parting from the goblin, the young +man went back to his father, who asked: +</p> +<p> +“Where have you been roaming so long? +You have neglected your work. I was +quite certain you would do nothing of this +kind well.” +</p> +<p> +“Be contented,” was the son’s response, +“I will make up the lost time. Watch me +while I cut down this tree at one blow.” +</p> +<p> +He rubbed his ax with the magic rag, and +gave the tree a powerful blow, but because +the ax-head had been changed into silver the +edge turned over. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, Father!” the son exclaimed, “do +you see how poor an ax you have given me?” +</p> +<p> +“What have you done?” the father cried. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +“That ax was borrowed, and you have +ruined it. I must pay for it, but I know +not how I shall do so.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be troubled,” the son said. “I +will soon pay for the ax.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, you simpleton! how will you do +that?” his father retorted. “You have +nothing but what I give you. Some student +nonsense is stuck in your head. Of wood-cutting +you know nothing.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, Father,” the son said, “I can work +no more today now that my ax is spoiled. +Let us make a holiday of the few hours that +remain before sunset.” +</p> +<p> +“Eh, what?” his father cried, “do you +think I can keep my hands in my pockets +as you do? You can go home, but I must +keep on with the chopping.” +</p> +<p> +“No,” the son objected, “you must come, +too, for this is the first time I have been in +the forest, and I do not know the way out.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +</p> +<p> +At last he persuaded his father to accompany +him. After they reached home the +son took the damaged ax to a goldsmith in +a neighboring town. “This ax-head is +silver,” the scholar told him. “I want to +sell it.” +</p> +<p> +The goldsmith tested it to make sure of the +quality of the metal, weighed it, and said, +“Your ax is worth one hundred dollars, but +I have not so much money in the shop.” +</p> +<p> +“Give me what you have,” the scholar requested, +“and I will trust you for the rest.” +</p> +<p> +So the goldsmith gave him eighty dollars, +and the scholar tramped back home. “Father,” +he said, “I have some money now. +Do you know what we will have to pay our +neighbor to make good the loss of his ax?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” the father answered, “the ax was +nearly new, and it cost him a dollar.” +</p> +<p> +“Then give him two dollars,” the son said. +“He will have no regrets when he gets +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +double payment. Here are fifty dollars. +Pay our neighbor and keep the rest for yourself. +You shall live at your ease in future +and never want again.” +</p> +<p> +“My goodness!” the man exclaimed, +“where did you get this money?” +</p> +<p> +The son told everything that had happened. +He now could easily procure all the +money he pleased, and the first use he made +of his wealth was to return to school and +learn as much as he could. Afterward, because +he could heal all wounds with his rag, +he became the most celebrated surgeon in +the world. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>V—YALLERY BROWN</h2> +<p> +Once upon a time there was a lad about +eighteen years old named Tom Tiver who +had hired out to work for a farmer. One +beautiful Sunday night in July he was walking +across a field. The weather was warm +and still, and the air was full of little sounds +as if the trees and grasses were softly chattering +to themselves. +</p> +<p> +But all at once there came from on ahead +the most pitiful wailings that ever he had +heard—a sobbing as of a child spent with +fear and nearly heartbroken. Soon the +sound changed to a moan, and then rose +again in a long whimpering wailing that +made Tom sick to hark to it. He began to +look everywhere for the poor creature. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +</p> +<p> +“It must be Sally Barton’s child,” he +thought. “She was always a flighty thing +and never looks after it properly. Like as +not she’s flaunting about the lanes, and has +clean forgot the baby.” +</p> +<p> +He looked and looked, yet he could see +nought. Meanwhile the whimpering got +louder and stronger and there seemed to be +words of some sort mingled with the sobs. +Tom harkened with all his ears, and heard +the unhappy creature saying: “Oh! the +stone, the great big stone! Oh! the stone on +top!” +</p> +<p> +He wondered where the stone might be, +and he looked until he found, close to a +hedge, a great flat stone almost buried in the +earth and hidden in the matted grass and +weeds. Down he fell on his knees and listened +again. Clearer than ever, but tired +with crying came the little sobbing voice, +“Oh! oh! the stone, the stone on top!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +</p> +<p> +Tom was scared, and he disliked to meddle +with the thing, but he could not withstand +the whimpering baby, and he tore like mad +at the earth around the stone till he got his +fingers under it and felt it loosening. Then +a puff of warm air came out of the damp +earth and the tangle of grass and growing +things, and he tipped the stone back out of +the way. +</p> +<p> +Underneath where it had been was a cavity, +and there lay a tiny thing on its back +blinking up at the moon and at him. It +was no bigger than a year old baby, but it +had a great mass of hair and a heavy beard, +and the hair and the beard were so long and +so twisted round and round the creature’s +body that Tom could not see its clothes. +The hair was yellow and silky like a child’s, +but the face of the thing was as old as if it +had not been young and smooth for hundreds +of years. There were just wrinkles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +and two bright black eyes set in a lot of shining +yellow hair; and the skin was the color +of fresh-turned earth in the spring—brown +as brown could be—and its bare hands and +feet were as brown as its face. The crying +had stopped, but the tears were standing on +its cheeks, and the tiny creature looked +dazed in the moonshine and the night air. +</p> +<p> +When its eyes got used to the moonlight +it looked boldly up in Tom’s face and said: +“Tom, you are a good lad.” +</p> +<p> +The coolness with which it spoke was astonishing, +and its voice was high and piping +like the twittering of a little bird. Tom +touched his hat, and tried to think what he +ought to say. +</p> +<p> +“Hoots!” the thing exclaimed, “you +needn’t be afraid of me. You have done me +a good turn, and I’ll do as much for you.” +</p> +<p> +Tom couldn’t speak yet, but he thought, +“Lord! for sure it’s a bogle!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +</p> +<p> +The creature seemed to know what passed +in Tom’s mind, for it instantly said: “I’m +no bogle, but you’d better not ask what I +am. Anyhow, I am a good friend of yours.” +</p> +<p> +Tom’s knees smote together with terror. +Certainly an ordinary body couldn’t have +known what he had been thinking, but the +thing looked so kind and spoke so fair, that +he made bold to say in a quavering voice, +“Might I be asking to know your honor’s +name?” +</p> +<p> +“H’m!” the creature said, pulling its +beard, “as for that, you may call me Yallery +Brown. That’s the way I look as you +plainly see, and ’twill do for a name as well +as any other. I am your friend, Yallery +Brown, my lad.” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you, master,” Tom responded +meekly. +</p> +<p> +“And now,” it said, “I’m in a hurry to-night. +So tell me without delay what I can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +do for you. Would you like a wife? I can +give you the finest lass in the town. Would +you like riches? I can give you as much +gold as you can carry. Or would you have +me help you with your work? Only say the +word.” +</p> +<p> +Tom scratched his head. “I have no +hankering for a wife,” he said. “Wives +are bothersome bodies, and I have women +folk at home who will mend my clothes. +Gold is worth having, but if you could +lighten my work that would suit me best of +all. I can’t abide work, and I’ll thank—” +</p> +<p> +“Stop!” Yallery Brown cried, as quick as +lightning, “I’ll help you and welcome, but +if ever you thank me you’ll never see +me more. Remember that! I’ll have no +thanks”; and it stamped its tiny feet on the +ground and looked as wicked as a raging +bull. “Harken! you great lump!” it went +on, calming down a bit. “If ever you need +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +help, or get into trouble, call on me. Just +say, ‘Yallery Brown, come from the earth, +I want you!’ and I’ll be with you at once; +and now, good night.” +</p> +<p> +So saying, it picked a dandelion puff and +blew the winged seeds all up into Tom’s eyes +and ears. When Tom could see again Yallery +Brown was gone, and he would have +thought he had been dreaming, were it not +for the stone on end and the hole at his feet. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>VI—A TROUBLESOME HELPER</h2> +<p> +Tom went home and to bed, and by morning +he had nearly forgotten all about what had +happened the previous evening. But when +he went to start the day’s work, there was +none to do. The horses had been fed, the +stables cleaned, and everything put in its +proper place, and he had nothing to do but +stand around with his hands in his pockets. +</p> +<p> +So it was from morn till night, and so +it was on the days that followed. All Tom’s +work was done by Yallery Brown, and better +done than Tom himself could do it. No +matter how much the master gave Tom to +do, he could sit down at his ease while the +work did itself. The hoe, or broom, or +whatever it was would get into motion with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +no visible hand put to it and would finish the +task in no time. +</p> +<p> +Yallery Brown kept out of sight during +the day, but in the gray twilight, after the +sun had gone down, Tom often saw the tiny +creature hopping around like a Will-of-the-Wisp +without a lantern. +</p> +<p> +At first Tom found it mighty fine to be +relieved of his work. He had naught to do +and good pay for it; but by and by things +began to go wrong. His work continued to +be done, but the work of the other lads was +all undone. If his buckets were filled theirs +were upset; if his tools were sharpened +theirs were blunted and spoiled; if his +horses were made as clean as daisies, theirs +were splashed with muck, and so on. +</p> +<p> +Day in and day out it was the same. Naturally +the lads began to have hard feelings +toward Tom, and they would not speak to +him or go near him, and they carried tales +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +to the master. So things went from bad to +worse. +</p> +<p> +Tom could not work even if he wished to; +the spade would not stay in his hand, the +scythe escaped from his grip, and the plow +ran away from him. More than once he +tried his best to do his tasks so that Yallery +Brown would leave him and his fellow laborers +alone. But he couldn’t, and he was +compelled to sit by and look on and have the +cold shoulder turned on him while the uncanny +thing was meddling with the others +and working for him. +</p> +<p> +At last matters got so bad that the master +would keep Tom no longer, and if he had not +discharged him the other lads would have +left. They swore they would not stay on +the same farm with him. Tom felt badly, +for it was a good place; and he was very +angry with Yallery Brown who had got him +into such trouble. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +</p> +<p> +So he shook his fist in the air and shouted +as loud as he could, “Yallery Brown, come +from the earth, you scamp, I want you!” +</p> +<p> +Hardly had the words left his lips when +he felt something tweaking his leg behind, +and he was pinched so hard that he jumped +with the smart of it. He looked down and +there was Yallery Brown with his shining +hair and wrinkled face, and wicked glinting +black eyes. +</p> +<p> +Tom was in a fine rage, and he would have +liked to kick the ugly creature, but he restrained +himself and said, “Look here, master, +I’ll thank you to leave me alone after +this. Do you hear? I want none of your +help, and I’ll have nothing more to do with +you.” +</p> +<p> +The horrid thing broke into a screeching +laugh, and pointed its brown finger at Tom. +“Ho, ho, Tom!” it said, “you have thanked +me, my lad, and I told you not to do so.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +</p> +<p> +“But I don’t want your help,” Tom +yelled. “I only want never to see you +again, and to have nothing more to do with +you. Now go.” +</p> +<p> +The thing only laughed and screeched and +mocked as long as Tom went on berating it, +but as soon as his breath gave out it said +with a grin: “Tom, my lad, I’ll tell you +something. Truly, I’ll never help you +again, and even if you call me you will not +see me after today. But I never agreed to +let you alone, and that I shall not do, my lad. +I was where I could do no harm under that +stone, Tom, and you let me out. If you had +been wise I would have been your friend +and worked for you, but I am your friend +no longer, and in the future when everything +goes crooked you can know that it is Yallery +Brown’s doing. Mark my words, will +you?” +</p> +<p> +Then it began to sing and curse and call +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +down misfortunes on him, and it danced +round Tom with its yellow hair and beard +all flying and a savage scowl on its wrinkled +bit of a face. Tom could only stand there +shaking all over and staring down at the +gruesome thing until at last it rose in the +air and floated away on the wind over a wall +out of sight with a parting shriek of cunning +laughter. +</p> +<p> +In the days and weeks and years that followed +Tom worked here and he worked +there, and turned his hand to this and to +that, but whatever he did always went +wrong. There was no end to Yallery +Brown’s spite even until Tom’s life ended. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>VII—THE LITTLE JACKAL</h2> +<p> +Once upon a time a little jackal lived near +the bank of a great river. Every day he +went down to the water to catch the crabs +that were there. +</p> +<p> +Not far away, in the same river, dwelt a +cruel alligator. He saw the little jackal +come down to the water every day, and he +thought, “What a nice tender morsel that +little jackal would make if I could only +catch him!” +</p> +<p> +One day the alligator hid in the mud, +where the water was shallow near shore. +Only the tip of his nose stuck out, and that +looked very much like the back of a crab. +</p> +<p> +Soon the little jackal came running along +the bank of the river seeking his usual food. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +When he saw the end of the alligator’s nose +he thought he had found a fine big crab, and +he put in his paw to scoop it out of the mud. +</p> +<p> +The moment he did that, snap! the teeth +of the alligator came together, and the +jackal was caught by the paw. He was terribly +frightened, for he knew the alligator +intended to pull him into the river and eat +him. +</p> +<p> +However, he began to laugh, though the +alligator’s teeth hurt him sadly. “Oh, +you stupid old alligator!” he said. “You +thought you would catch my paw, and instead +caught a bulrush root that I stuck +down in the water to tickle your nose. Ha, +ha! you silly, silly alligator.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, well,” the alligator thought, “I +am very much disappointed. I certainly +supposed I had caught that little jackal. +But it seems I have nipped nothing except +a bulrush root. There is no use of holding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +on to that.” So he opened his mouth. +</p> +<p> +Then the little jackal snatched out his +paw. “O stupid one!” he cried, “you really +had caught me, and now you have let me go. +Ha, ha! ring-a-ting, ring-a-ting! You’ll +never catch me again.” So saying, off he +ran up the bank and into the jungle. +</p> +<p> +The alligator was furiously angry. “I +was tricked by the little rascal that time,” +he said, “but if I get hold of him again he +will not escape so easily.” +</p> +<p> +Once more the alligator hid in the mud +and waited. But the little jackal came no +more to the river. He was afraid, and he +stayed in the woods living on figs that he +gathered under a wild fig tree. +</p> +<p> +Day after day passed and it became plain +to the alligator that the little jackal was +avoiding the river. So early one morning +he crawled out of the water and dragged +himself to the wild fig tree. There he gathered together +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +a great heap of figs and hid +under them. +</p> +<p> +Shortly afterward the jackal came running +to the fig tree, licking his lips, for he +was very hungry. At sight of the great +heap of figs he was delighted. “Now I will +not have the trouble of picking up the figs +scattered about on the ground,” he said. +“Somebody has piled them up all ready for +me. How nice!” +</p> +<p> +But when he went nearer he became suspicious, +and thought, “It looks as though +something might be hidden under those +figs.” +</p> +<p> +Then he cried out: “What is the matter +here? Usually, when I come to the fig tree, +all the figs that are any good roll about in +the wind. Those figs in the pile lie so still +that I doubt if they are fit to eat. I will +have to go to some other place to get good +figs.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +</p> +<p> +The jackal’s words made the alligator +fear that he had failed again, and he +thought: “This little jackal is very particular. +I will just shake myself and make +the figs roll about a trifle. Then he will +come near enough for me to grab him.” +</p> +<p> +So the alligator shook himself, and away +rolled the figs in all directions. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you stupid old alligator!” the +jackal shouted; “if you had stayed still +you might have caught me. Ring-a-ting, +ring-a-ting! Thank you for shaking yourself +and letting me know you were there!” +Then away he ran as fast as his legs would +carry him. +</p> +<p> +The alligator gnashed his teeth with rage. +“Never mind! I will catch this little +jackal yet,” he declared, and he hid in the +tall grass beside the path that led to the fig +tree. +</p> +<p> +He waited there for several days, but he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +saw nothing of his intended victim. The +jackal was afraid to come to the fig tree any +more. He stayed in the jungle and fed on +such roots and berries as he could find there, +but found so little that he grew thin and +miserable. +</p> +<p> +One morning the alligator made his way +to the jackal’s house while the jackal was +away. He squeezed in through the narrow +doorway and hid under the heap of dead +leaves that was the jackal’s bed. +</p> +<p> +Toward evening the little jackal came running +home. He was very hungry, for he +had found scarcely anything to eat all day, +and he was very tired too. Just as he was +about to go in and lie down on his bed he +noticed that the sides of the doorway were +scraped and broken as if some big animal +had forced its way through. +</p> +<div><a name='img03' id='img03'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src="images/img03.jpg" alt="The Alligator Goes to the Jackal’s House" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>The Alligator Goes to the Jackal’s House</em></span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p> +The little jackal was terribly frightened. +He thought, “Is it possible that the wicked +alligator has come to hunt for me here in +my own house and is waiting inside to catch +me?” +</p> +<p> +Then he called loudly: “What is the +matter, house of mine? Every day when I +come home you say, ‘All is well, little jackal,’ +but today you say nothing, and I am afraid +to come in.” +</p> +<p> +Of course the house did not really speak +to him, but he wanted to find out if the alligator +was there, and the alligator believed +his words. The stupid creature thought, “I +shall have to speak just as the house would +speak or this tiresome little jackal will not +come in.” +</p> +<p> +He made his voice as small and soft as +he could, and said, “All is well, little +jackal.” +</p> +<p> +Then the jackal knew that the alligator +was in his house, and he was more scared +than ever. However, he contrived to respond in a cheerful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +voice: “All right, little +house! I will come in as soon as I have +been to the brook for a drink of water.” +</p> +<p> +When the alligator heard these words he +was filled with joy. He lay quite still under +the leaves thinking: “Now I will have +that little jackal at last. This time he shall +not escape me.” +</p> +<p> +But while he waited, the jackal gathered +together a great heap of dead wood and +brush and piled it against the door of the +house. When it was big enough, the jackal +set fire to the heap. It blazed up with a +great noise, and the wicked alligator was +burned to death. +</p> +<p> +Then the little jackal danced about singing: +</p> +<p> + “The alligator’s dead, and I am glad!<br /> + Oh, ring-a-ting-a-ting; oh, ring-a-ting-ting!<br /> + The alligator’s dead, and I am glad!”<br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span></div> +<p> +After that the little jackal went wherever +he pleased in safety, and he ate so many figs +and so many crabs that he became as fat as +fat could be. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>VIII—THE BLIND OGRE</h2> +<p> +In Italy dwelt a woman named Janella +who had eight children. Seven of them +were sons, but the youngest was a daughter. +</p> +<p> +After the sons grew up they went off to +see the world. They went on and on until +they came to a wood in which dwelt an ogre. +This ogre had been blinded by a woman +while he lay asleep, and ever since then he +had been such an enemy to womankind that +he devoured all whom he could catch. +</p> +<p> +When the youths arrived at the ogre’s +house, tired out with walking, and faint with +hunger, they begged him, for pity’s sake, to +give them something to eat. +</p> +<p> +The ogre replied that if they would serve +him he would supply them with food. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +They would have nothing else to do but +watch over his safety, each in turn, a day at +a time. +</p> +<p> +This seemed a very satisfactory arrangement +to them, and they consented to remain +in the service of the ogre. So he let them +have all the lower part of the house to live +in. +</p> +<p> +After the brothers had been gone from +home a long time, and no tidings of them +were received, Channa, their sister, dressed +for a journey and went to seek them. On +and on she walked, asking at every place +she came to whether any one had seen her +seven brothers. Finally she got news at an +inn of where they were, and away she went +to the ogre’s house in the wood. +</p> +<p> +There she made herself known to her +brothers and was received with great joy. +After the greetings were over the youths +told her to stay quietly in their part of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +house so the ogre would not be aware of her +presence. They also cautioned her to give +a portion of whatever she had to eat to a cat +which lived there. Otherwise the cat would +do her harm. +</p> +<p> +Channa heeded their advice and got along +very well. She shared her food with the +cat, always doing it fairly to the last morsel, +and saying, “This for me—this for thee.” +</p> +<p> +But one day when the ogre sent the brothers +out to do some hunting they left Channa +a little basket of peas to cook. While shelling +the peas, she found a hazel nut among +them, and as ill-luck would have it she ate +the nut, forgetting to give half to the cat. +The latter, out of spite, ran to the hearth and +put out the fire. +</p> +<p> +Then Channa left the room and went upstairs +to the blind ogre’s part of the house. +She asked him for a few coals, and when he +heard a woman’s voice he said: “Welcome, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +madam! Just you wait a while.” Afterward +he began to sharpen his teeth with a +whetstone. +</p> +<p> +She saw that she had made a mistake in +not obeying her brother’s orders, and she +ran back to the room below. There she +bolted the door and placed against it stools, +tables, chests, and in fact everything she +could move. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the ogre had put an edge on his +teeth he groped his way to the door and +found it fastened. So he proceeded to kick +it to break it open. The seven brothers +came home while he was making all this disturbance, +and the ogre accused them of +treachery. +</p> +<p> +Things might have gone badly had it not +been for the cleverness of Grazio, the eldest, +who said to the ogre: “She has fortified +herself so securely inside that you cannot +get at her. Come, I will take you to a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +place where we can seize her without her being +able to defend herself.” +</p> +<p> +Then they led the ogre by the hand to the +edge of a deep pit, where they gave him a +push that sent him headlong to the bottom. +After that they got shovels and covered him +with earth. +</p> +<p> +By and by they returned to the house and +Channa unfastened the door. They told +her to be more careful in future, and to beware +of plucking any grass or other plant +that might grow on the spot where the ogre +was buried, or they would be changed into +doves. +</p> +<p> +“Heaven keep me from bringing such a +misfortune on you!” Channa exclaimed. +</p> +<p> +They took possession of all the ogre’s +goods, made themselves masters of the whole +house, and lived very comfortably and merrily +there until spring. Then it happened +one morning when the brothers had gone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +off on some errand, that a poor pilgrim came +to the ogre’s wood. He was looking up at +an ape perched in a pine tree when the creature +threw a heavy cone at him. This struck +him on the head so hard that the poor fellow +set up a loud cry. +</p> +<p> +Channa heard the noise and ran to where +he was sitting on the ground hanging on to +his bruised head. She took pity on him and +plucked a tuft of rosemary which was growing +on the ogre’s grave near by. Then she +hurried to the house and made a plaster of +it with bread and salt. In a few minutes +she rejoined the pilgrim and bound the +plaster on his head. After that she had him +go with her to the house where she gave him +some breakfast. When he finished eating +she sent him on his way. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>IX—SEVEN DOVES</h2> +<p> +Scarcely had the pilgrim gone when seven +doves came flying into the room, and said: +“Behold your brothers turned to birds and +made companions of snipes, woodpeckers, +jays, owls, rooks, starlings, blackbirds, tom-tits, +larks, kingfishers, wrens, and sparrows. +We shall be persecuted by hawks, and hunters +will try to shoot us. Ah! why did you +pluck that accursed rosemary and bring +such a calamity on us? Doves we must remain +for the rest of our lives unless you find +the Mother of Time. She can tell you how +to get us out of our trouble.” +</p> +<p> +Channa was greatly distressed over what +she had done, and said she would start at +once searching for the Mother of Time. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +She urged them to make the ogre’s house +their home until she returned. +</p> +<p> +Away she went and journeyed on and on +until she came to the seashore, where the +waves were banging against the rocks. A +huge whale came to the surface close at hand, +looked at her, and asked, “What are you +seeking, my pretty maiden?” +</p> +<p> +She replied, “I am seeking the Mother of +Time.” +</p> +<p> +“Hear then what you must do,” the whale +said. “Go along the shore, and when you +come to a river, follow it up to its source. +There you will meet some one who will show +you the way. But do me one kindness. +After you have found the old woman, ask +her how I can swim about safely without so +often knocking on the rocks and being +thrown up on the sands.” +</p> +<p> +“I will gladly do that for you,” Channa +said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +</p> +<p> +Then she thanked the whale and walked +on along the shore. At length she came to +a river and followed it up to its source in a +beautiful open country of meadows starred +with flowers. There she met a mouse who +said to her, “Where are you going all alone, +my pretty maiden?” +</p> +<p> +“I am seeking the Mother of Time,” +Channa replied. +</p> +<p> +“You have a long way to go,” the mouse +commented. “But do not lose heart. Go +to yonder mountain, and you will obtain +more news to help you in your search. And +when you find the Mother of Time, will you +do me one favor? Ask her what we mice +can do to get rid of the tyranny of the cats.” +</p> +<p> +Channa promised to do this for the mouse, +and trudged off toward the mountain. +When she got to it she sat down on a stone +to rest. Some ants were busy close by, and +one of them addressed Channa, saying, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +“Who are you and whither are you going?” +</p> +<p> +She answered, “I am an unhappy girl who +is seeking the Mother of Time.” +</p> +<p> +“Then keep on over the mountain to a +large plain, and there you will get more +news,” the ant said. “After you find the +old woman please ask her how the ants can +live longer. We store up a great deal of +food, and this seems to me a folly while our +lives are so short.” +</p> +<p> +“Be at ease,” Channa responded. “You +can be sure that I will do your errand.” +</p> +<p> +Then she toiled on over the mountain to +the great plain, where a wide-spreading old +oak tree called to her as she was passing. +“Whither are you going so sad, my little +lady?” it said. “Come and rest in my +shade.” +</p> +<p> +She thanked the old oak, but begged to be +excused from stopping because she was going +in haste to find the Mother of Time. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +</p> +<p> +“You are not far from her dwelling,” the +oak announced. “Before you have finished +another day’s journey you will get to a high +mountain on the summit of which is the +home of her whom you seek. If you have +as much kindness as beauty you will oblige +me by asking her why it is that my fruit +which used to be relished by strong men is +now only made the food of hogs.” +</p> +<p> +“It will be a pleasure to do you such a +service,” Channa affirmed, and departed. +</p> +<p> +The next day she arrived at the foot of a +mountain which had its summit far up +among the clouds. There she found an old +man, wearied and wayworn, who had lain +down on some hay. The moment he saw +Channa he knew her, for he was the pilgrim +to whom she had ministered. When she +told him what she was seeking he responded +that at last he could make some return for +her kindness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +</p> +<p> +“My pretty maiden,” he said, “I would +have you know that on the top of this mountain +you will find a castle which was built +so long ago that no one knows when it was +built. The walls are cracked, the foundations +are crumbling, the doors are worm-eaten, +the furniture is worn out, and, in +short, everything is gone to wrack and ruin. +</p> +<p> +“When you are almost to the castle, hide +until Time goes out. After he has gone, +enter, and you will find an old, old woman, +whose face is covered with deep wrinkles, +and whose eyebrows are so shaggy she will +not be able to see you. She is seated on a +clock which is fastened to the wall. +</p> +<p> +“Go in quickly and take off the weights +that keep the machinery of the clock in motion. +Then ask the old woman to answer +your questions. She will instantly call her +son to come and destroy you, but because +you have stopped the clock by taking the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +weights he cannot move. Therefore she will +be obliged to tell you what you want to +know.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>X—TIME AND HIS MOTHER</h2> +<p> +When the pilgrim finished speaking, +Channa climbed the mountain and arrived +in the vicinity of the castle quite out of +breath. There she waited till Time came +out. He was an old man with a long beard, +he wore a cloak and carried a scythe, and +he had large wings that bore him swiftly out +of sight. +</p> +<p> +Channa now entered the castle, and +though she gave a start of fright when she +saw the strange old woman, she hastened to +seize the weights of the clock and tell what +she wanted. +</p> +<p> +The old woman at once called loudly to +her son, but Channa said, “You will not see +your son while I hold these clock-weights.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +</p> +<p> +Thereupon the old woman began to coax +Channa, saying: “Let go of them, my dear. +Do not stop my son’s course. No one has +ever done that before. Let go of the +weights, and may Heaven reward you.” +</p> +<p> +“You are wasting your breath,” Channa +responded. “You must say something better +than that if you would have me quit my +hold.” +</p> +<p> +“Well then,” the old woman said, “hide +behind the door, and when Time comes home +I will make him tell me all you wish to +know. As soon as he goes out again you can +depart.” +</p> +<p> +Channa let go the weights and hid behind +the door. Presently Time came flying in, +and his mother repeated to him the maiden’s +questions. +</p> +<div><a name='img04' id='img04'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i004' id='i004'></a> +<img src="images/img04.jpg" alt="Appealing to the Mother of Time" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>Appealing to the Mother of Time</em></span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span></div> +<p> +In reply he said: “The oak tree will be +honored as it was of yore when men find the +treasure that is buried among its roots. +The mice will never be safe from the cat unless +they tie a bell to her neck to warn them +when she is coming. The ants will live a +hundred years if they will dispense with flying, +for when an ant is going to die it puts +on wings. The whale should make friends +with the sea-mouse, who will serve as a guide +so that the monster will never go astray. +The doves will resume their former shape +when they fly and alight on the column of +riches.” +</p> +<p> +So saying, Time went forth to run his accustomed +race. Then Channa bade the old +woman farewell and descended the mountain. +She arrived at the foot just as the +seven doves arrived there. Her long absence +had made them anxious, and they had +come to look for her. They alighted on the +horn of a dead ox, and at once they changed +to the handsome youths they had been +formerly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +</p> +<p> +While they were marveling at this transformation +Channa greeted them and told +them what Time had said. Then they understood +that the horn, as the symbol of +plenty, was what he called the column of +wealth. +</p> +<p> +Now they all started on the return +journey, taking the same road by which +Channa had come. When they arrived at +the old oak and she informed the tree of +what Time had said, the oak begged them to +take away the treasure from its roots. So +the seven brothers borrowed tools in a +neighboring village and dug till they unearthed +a great heap of gold money. This +they divided into eight parts and shared it +between themselves and their sister. +</p> +<p> +After according to the oak tree the honor +it so much desired they again tramped along +the homeward road, and when they became +weary lay down to sleep under a hedge. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +Presently they were seen there by a band of +robbers who tied them hand and foot, and +carried off their money. +</p> +<p> +They bewailed the loss of their wealth +which had so soon slipped through their fingers, +and they were anxious lest they should +perish of starvation or be devoured by wild +beasts. As they were lamenting their unhappy +lot the mouse whom Channa had met +appeared. She told it what Time had said +about getting rid of the tyranny of the cats, +and the grateful mouse nibbled the cords +with which they were bound till it set them +free. +</p> +<p> +Somewhat farther on they encountered +the ant which listened eagerly while Channa +repeated Time’s advice. Then it asked her +why she was so pale and downcast. +</p> +<p> +So she related how the robbers had tricked +them. +</p> +<p> +“Cheer up,” the ant said. “Now I can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +requite the kindness you have done me. I +know where those robbers hide their plunder. +Follow me.” +</p> +<p> +The ant guided them to a group of tumble-down +houses and showed them a pit which +the brothers entered. There they found the +money which had been stolen from them, and +off they went with it to the seashore. The +whale came to speak with them, and was rejoiced +to learn what Time had said. +</p> +<p> +While they were talking with the whale, +they saw the robbers coming, armed to the +teeth. +</p> +<p> +“Alas, alas!” they cried, “now we are +lost.” +</p> +<p> +“Fear not,” the whale said. “I can save +you. Get on my back and I will carry you +to a place of safety.” +</p> +<p> +Channa and her brothers climbed on the +whale who carried them to within sight of +Naples. There it left them on the shore and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +they returned to their old home safe and +sound and rich. Thereafter they enjoyed +a happy life, in accord with the old saying, +“Do all the good you can and make no fuss +about it.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>XI—BLOCKHEAD HANS</h2> +<p> +Far away in the country was an old mansion +in which dwelt a squire well along in years +and his two sons. These sons thought themselves +exceedingly clever. Indeed, they +were convinced that had they known only +half of what they did know, it would have +been quite enough. +</p> +<p> +Both wanted to marry the king’s daughter. +She had proclaimed that she would +have for her husband the man who knew +best how to choose his words, and they were +confident that one or the other of them was +certain to win her. +</p> +<p> +Only a week was allowed to prepare for +the wooing, but that was plenty long enough +for the two brothers. One knew the whole +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +Latin dictionary by heart. He also knew +three years’ issue of the daily paper of the +town so he could repeat backward or forward +as you pleased all that had appeared +in it. +</p> +<p> +The other had studied the laws of corporation +and thought he could speak with wisdom +and authority on matters of state. Besides, +he was very expert with his fingers +and could embroider roses and other flowers +or figures in a manner that gave his +friends great pleasure. +</p> +<p> +The old father gave each of the sons a +fine horse. He presented a black horse to +the one who knew the dictionary and the +daily paper by heart, and the other, who was +so clever at corporation law, received a +milk-white steed. Just before they started, +the young men oiled the corners of their +mouths that they might be able to speak +more fluently. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +</p> +<p> +The squire had a third son, but nobody +thought him worth counting. He was not +learned as his brothers were and was generally +called “Blockhead Hans.” While +the servants stood in the courtyard watching +the two clever youths mount their horses +Hans chanced to appear. +</p> +<p> +“Well, well!” he said, “where are you off +to? You are in your Sunday-best clothes.” +</p> +<p> +“We are going to the royal court to woo +the princess,” they replied. “Haven’t you +heard what has been proclaimed throughout +all the countryside?” +</p> +<p> +They told him about it, and Hans +shouted, “Hurrah! I’ll go too.” The +brothers laughed at him and rode off. +</p> +<p> +“Dear father,” Blockhead Hans said, “I +must have a horse. Perhaps I can win the +princess. If she will have me, she will. If +she won’t have me, she won’t.” +</p> +<p> +“Stop that nonsense!” the old man ordered. “I will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +not give you a horse. You +can’t speak wisely. You don’t know how to +choose your words. But your brothers—ah! +they are very different lads.” +</p> +<p> +“All right,” Hans said, “I have a goat. +If you won’t give me a horse, the goat will +have to serve instead. He can carry me.” +</p> +<p> +So he put a bridle on his goat, got on its +back, dug his heels into its sides and went +clattering down the road like a hurricane. +Hoppitty hop! What a ride! +</p> +<p> +“Here I come!” Blockhead Hans shouted, +and he sang so that the echoes were roused +near and far. +</p> +<p> +Once he stopped and picked up a dead +crow. Presently he overtook his brothers +as they rode slowly along on their fine +horses. They were not speaking, but were +turning over in their minds all the clever +things they intended to say, for everything +had to be thought out. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +</p> +<p> +“Hello!” Blockhead Hans bawled, “here +I am. Just see what I found on the road.” +And he proudly held up the dead crow for +them to look at. +</p> +<p> +“You foolish lad,” his brothers said, +“what are you going to do with it?” +</p> +<p> +“I shall give it to the princess,” he answered. +</p> +<p> +“Do so, certainly!” they said, laughing +loudly and riding on. +</p> +<p> +Blockhead Hans thought he would continue +the journey in their company, but he +saw an old wooden shoe by the roadside. +Such a prize was not to be neglected, and he +got off his goat and picked it up. Then he +cantered along the highway till he came up +behind his brothers. +</p> +<p> +“Slap, bang! here I am!” he shouted. +“See what I have just found? Such things +are not to be picked up every day on the +road!” +</p> +<div><a name='img05' id='img05'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i005' id='i005'></a> +<img src="images/img05.jpg" alt="Blockhead Hans and the Dead Crow" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>Blockhead Hans and the Dead Crow</em></span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span></div> +<p> +The brothers turned round to learn what +in the world he could have found. +</p> +<p> +“Simpleton!” they said, “that cracked +old shoe is absolutely worthless. Are you +going to take that to the princess?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course I shall,” Blockhead Hans replied, +and the brothers laughed and rode +along. +</p> +<p> +But the lad on the goat soon brought them +to a standstill by hopping off his goat and +shouting: “Hurrah! Here’s the best treasure +of all!” +</p> +<p> +“What have you found now?” the brothers +asked. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! something more for the princess,” +he said. “How pleased she will be!” +</p> +<p> +“Why, that is pure mud, straight from +the ditch!” the brothers exclaimed. +</p> +<p> +“Of course it is!” Blockhead Hans responded. +“There never was any better +mud. See how it runs through my fingers.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +</p> +<p> +So saying, he filled his coat pocket with +it. The brothers did not enjoy these interruptions +or his company, and they rode off +with such speed that they were hidden in a +cloud of dust raised by their horses’ hoofs. +They reached the gate of the royal city a +good hour before Blockhead Hans did. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>XII—THE RIVAL SUITORS</h2> +<p> +Each suitor for the hand of the princess +was numbered as he arrived and had to wait +his turn. They waited as patiently as they +could, standing in line closely guarded to +prevent the jealous rivals from getting into +a fight with one another. +</p> +<p> +A crowd of people had gathered in the +throne room at the palace to look on while +the princess received her suitors, and as +each suitor came in all the fine phrases he +had prepared passed out of his mind. Then +the princess would say: “It doesn’t matter. +Away with him!” +</p> +<p> +At last the brother who knew the dictionary +by heart appeared, but he did not know +it any longer. The floor creaked, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +ceiling was made of glass mirrors so that +he saw himself standing on his head. At +one of the windows were three reporters and +an editor, and each of them was writing +down what was said to publish it in the +paper that was sold at the street corners for +a penny. All this was fearful. You +couldn’t blame him for feeling nervous. +</p> +<p> +“It is very hot in here, isn’t it?” was the +only thing that the brother who knew the +dictionary could think of to say. +</p> +<p> +“Of course it is,” the princess responded. +“We are roasting young chickens for dinner +today.” +</p> +<p> +The youth cleared his throat. “Ahem!” +There he stood like an idiot. He was not +prepared for such remarks from the princess. +How nice it would be to make a witty +response! But he could think of nothing +appropriate, and all he did was to clear his +throat again. “Ahem!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +</p> +<p> +“It doesn’t matter,” the princess said. +“Take him out.” And out he had to go. +</p> +<p> +Now the other brother entered. “How +hot it is here!” he said. +</p> +<p> +The princess looked as if she thought him +tiresome as she responded: “Of course. +We are roasting young chickens today.” +</p> +<p> +“Where do you—um?” the youth stammered, +and the reporters wrote down, +“Where do you—um?” +</p> +<p> +“It doesn’t matter,” the princess said. +“Take him out.” +</p> +<p> +After a while Blockhead Hans had his +turn. He rode his goat right into the room +and exclaimed, “Dear me, how awfully hot +it is here!” +</p> +<p> +The princess looked at him and his goat +with more interest than she showed in most +of her suitors and said: “Of course! We +are roasting young chickens today.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s good,” Blockhead Hans commented; “and will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +you let me roast a crow +with them?” +</p> +<p> +“Gladly,” the princess responded; “but +have you anything to roast it in? I have +neither pot nor saucepan to spare.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s all right,” Blockhead Hans told +her. “Here is a dish that will serve my +purpose.” And he showed her the wooden +shoe and laid the crow in it. +</p> +<p> +The princess laughed and said, “If you +are going to prepare a dinner you ought at +least to have some soup to go with your +crow.” +</p> +<p> +“Very true,” he agreed, “and I have it in +my pocket.” Then he showed her the mud +he was carrying. +</p> +<p> +“I like you,” the princess declared. +“You can answer when you are spoken to. +You have something to say. So I will +marry you. But do you know that every +word we speak is being recorded and will be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +in the paper tomorrow. Over by the window +not far from where we are you can +see three reporters and an old editor. None +of them understands much and the editor +doesn’t understand anything.” +</p> +<p> +At these words the reporters giggled, and +each dropped a blot of ink on the floor. +</p> +<p> +“Ah! those are great people,” Blockhead +Hans remarked. “I will give the editor +something to write about.” +</p> +<p> +Then he took a handful of mud from his +pocket and threw it smack in the great man’s +face. +</p> +<p> +“That was neatly done!” the princess +said—“much better, in fact, than I could +have done it myself.” +</p> +<p> +She and Blockhead Hans were married, +and presently he became king and wore a +crown and sat on the throne. At any rate +so the newspaper said, but of course you +can’t believe all you see in the papers. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>XIII—CUNNING TOM</h2> +<p> +Once there was a bad boy named Tom, and +the older he grew, the wiser and slyer he +thought himself. Many were the tricks he +played until no one liked him or trusted +him. +</p> +<p> +One day he asked his grandmother for +some money. She had plenty, but she +would not give him any. So that evening +Tom went to the pasture and caught the old +woman’s black cow. He took the cow to a +deserted house which stood at a distance +from any other, and there he kept her two +or three days, giving her food and water at +night when nobody would see him going and +coming. +</p> +<p> +Tom made his grandmother believe that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +some one had stolen the cow. This was a +great grief to her. At last she told the lad +to buy her another cow at a fair in a neighboring +town, and she gave him three pounds +with which to make the purchase. +</p> +<p> +He promised to get one as near like the +other as possible and went off with the +money. Then he took a piece of chalk, +ground it into powder, steeped it in a little +water and rubbed it in spots and patches +over the head and body of the cow he had +hidden. +</p> +<p> +Early the next morning he took her to an +inn near the fair and spent the day in pleasure. +Toward evening he drove the cow +home before him, and as soon as he got to +his grandmother’s the cow began to bellow. +</p> +<p> +The old woman ran out rejoicing for she +thought her own black cow had been found, +but when she saw the spots and patches of +white she sighed and exclaimed, “Alas, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +you’ll never be the kindly brute my Black +Lady was, though you bellow exactly like +her.” +</p> +<p> +“’Tis a mercy you know not what the cow +says,” Tom remarked to himself, “or all +would be wrong with me.” +</p> +<p> +The old woman put her cow to pasture +the following morning, but there came on a +heavy shower of rain, which washed away +the chalk. So the old woman’s Black Lady +came home at night and the new cow went +away with the shower and was never heard +of afterward. +</p> +<p> +But Tom’s father had some suspicions, +and he looked closely at the cow’s face and +found some of the chalk still remaining. +Then he gave Tom a hearty beating and +turned him out of the house. +</p> +<p> +Tom traveled about from place to place, +and by hook or by crook contrived to make +a living till he reached the size and years +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +of a man. He was always planning ways +to get hold of other people’s money, for he +did not like to exert himself to earn what he +needed. +</p> +<p> +Once he met a party of reapers seeking +work. At once he hired the whole company +of about thirty and agreed to give them a +week’s reaping at ten pence a day, which +was two pence higher than any had gotten +that year. This made the poor reapers +think he was a very honest, generous, and +genteel master. +</p> +<p> +Tom took them to an inn and gave them a +hearty breakfast. “Now,” he said, “there +are so many of you together, it’s quite possible +that while most are honest men, some +may be rogues. You will have to sleep +nights together in a barn, and your best +plan is to give what money you have to me +to keep safe for you. I’ll mark down each +sum in a book opposite the name of the man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +whose it is, and you shall have it all when I +pay you your wages.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! very well, there’s my money, and +there’s mine, and here’s mine,” they said. +</p> +<p> +Some gave him five, six, seven, and eight +shillings, all they had earned through the +harvest. Tom now went with them out of +the village to a field of standing grain, remote +from any house, and set the men at +work. Then he left, telling them he was +going to order dinner for them, but in reality +he set off at top speed to get as far away +from them as possible, lest, when they +found out his trick, they should follow and +overtake him. +</p> +<p> +Soon the farmer to whom the grain belonged +saw the reapers in his field and came +to ask what they were about. “Stop!” he +cried, “I have given you no orders to reap +this grain, and besides it is not ripe.” +</p> +<p> +At first they persisted in keeping on with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +the work, but finally the farmer convinced +them that they had been fooled, and the +reapers went away sorely lamenting their +misfortune. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>XIV—A MISER’S HIRED MAN</h2> +<p> +Tom escaped, but it was a rough life he led, +and he was always in fear of punishment +for his many misdeeds. At last he concluded +he had had enough of depending on +his wits for a livelihood and decided he +would go to work. +</p> +<p> +So he hired himself to an old miser of a +farmer with whom he continued several +years. On the whole he made a good servant, +and though he sometimes played tricks +on those about him, it was his habit to make +good any damage he did. +</p> +<p> +His master was a miser, as I have said, +and he and his help ate supper with no other +light than that of the fire, for he would not +furnish candles. Tom did not like this, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +one night he thrust his spoon into the middle +of the soup dish where the soup was +hottest and clapped a spoonful into his master’s +mouth. +</p> +<p> +“You rascal!” his master cried, “my +mouth is all burned.” +</p> +<p> +“Then why do you keep the house so +dark?” Tom asked. “I can’t half see, and +what wonder is it if I missed the way to my +own mouth and got the spoon in your mouth, +instead?” +</p> +<p> +After that they always had a candle on +the table at supper, for his master would +feed no more in the dark while Tom was +present. +</p> +<p> +One day a butcher came and bought a fine +fat calf from Tom’s master. He tied its +legs, took it on the horse’s back in front of +him, and off he went. +</p> +<p> +“Master,” Tom said, “what do you say to +playing a joke on that fellow? With your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +leave I’ll get that calf away from him before +he has gone two miles, and he won’t +know what has become of it either.” +</p> +<p> +“You can try,” the master said, “but I +don’t believe you can do it.” +</p> +<p> +So Tom went into the house, got a pretty +shoe with a silver buckle to it that belonged +to the servant maid and ran across a field +till he got ahead of the butcher. He threw +the shoe into the middle of the highway and +hid behind a hedge. The butcher came riding +along with the calf before him. +</p> +<p> +“Hey!” he said, “there’s a fine lady’s +shoe. If it wasn’t that this calf makes it a +great trouble to get off and on I’d alight +and pick the shoe up. But after all what is +the use of one shoe without its neighbor?” +</p> +<p> +On he rode and let it lie. Tom then +slipped out from behind the hedge, secured +the shoe, and ran across the fields till he +again got before the butcher. He threw the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +shoe into the middle of the road and once +more crouched behind the hedge and +waited. +</p> +<p> +Along came the butcher, and saw the +shoe. “Now,” he said, “I can have a pair +of good shoes for the lifting. I’ll take them +home and put my old woman in a good humor +for once.” +</p> +<p> +Down he got, lifted off the calf, tied his +horse to the hedge, and ran back, thinking +to get the other shoe. While he was gone +Tom picked up the calf and the shoe and +tramped off home. +</p> +<p> +The butcher did not find the shoe he went +back to get, and when he returned to his +horse the other shoe was gone and so was +his calf. “No doubt the calf has broken +the rope that was about its feet,” he said, +“and has run into the fields.” +</p> +<p> +So he spent a long time searching for it +amongst the hedges and ditches. Finally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +he returned to Tom’s master and told him a +long story of how he had lost the calf by +means of a pair of shoes, which he believed +the devil himself must have dropped in the +roadway and had picked up later and the +calf too. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose I ought to be thankful,” he +said in concluding, “that I have my old +horse left to carry me home so that I don’t +have to walk.” +</p> +<p> +“Wouldn’t you like to buy another calf?” +Tom asked. +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes,” the butcher responded, “if +you have one to sell.” +</p> +<p> +Tom then brought from the barn the very +calf that the butcher had lost, but as Tom +had made a fine white face on it with chalk +and water, the butcher did not recognize it. +So the sale was made, its legs were tied and +it was hoisted onto the horse in front of the +butcher. As soon as he was gone, Tom told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +his master he believed he could get the calf +again. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no!” the farmer said, “you’ve fooled +him once and he’ll be on the lookout for mischief +now. But you can try if you want +to.” +</p> +<p> +Away ran Tom through the fields until he +got ahead of the butcher near where he had +taken the calf from him. There he hid behind +the hedges and as the butcher was +passing he put his hand on his mouth and +cried, “Baw, baw!” like a calf. +</p> +<p> +When the butcher heard this he stopped +his horse. “There’s the calf I lost,” he +said. +</p> +<p> +Down he got, lifted the calf from his +horse to the ground, and scrambled hastily +through the hedge, thinking he would lay +his hands on the lost calf in a few moments. +But as he went through one part of the +hedge, Tom went through another, got the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +calf on his back and hurried through the +fields home. +</p> +<p> +The poor butcher spent his time in vain +running hither and thither seeking his calf. +At last he returned to his horse, and when +he found his other calf gone he concluded +the place was bewitched. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, misfortunate day!” he cried, “what +shall I do now? and what’ll Joan say when +I get home, for my money’s gone, and the +two calves are gone, and I can’t buy her the +shawl I promised to get.” +</p> +<p> +Back he went to the farmer lamenting his +loss. But the farmer thought the joke had +been carried far enough now. He told him +what had happened and gave him his calf +and the second payment of money. So the +butcher went off well satisfied, for he had +had a good deal of fun for his trouble, had +he not? +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>XV—THE BOY IN A PEACH</h2> +<p> +It was the beginning of summer. On the +bank of a river in Japan an old woman +kneeled washing clothes. She took the +clothes from a basket beside her and washed +them in the water, which was so clear that +you could plainly see the stones at the bottom +and the dartings of the little minnows. +</p> +<p> +Presently there came floating down the +stream a big round delicious-looking peach. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” the woman said, “I am sixty +years old, and never before have I seen so +large and handsome a peach. It must be +fine to eat.” +</p> +<p> +She looked about for a stick with which +to reach the peach, but saw none. For a +moment she was perplexed. Then she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +clapped her hands, and nodded her head +while she sang these words: +</p> +<p> + “Far waters are bitter, near waters are sweet—<br /> + Leave the bitter, come to the sweet.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +She sang the words three times, whereupon, +strange to say, the peach rolled over +and over in the water till it came to the shore +in front of her. +</p> +<p> +“How delighted my old man will be!” she +thought as she picked it up. +</p> +<p> +Then she packed the clothes she had been +washing into the basket and hurried home. +Soon she saw her husband returning from +the mountain where he had been cutting +grass. She ran to meet him and showed +him the peach. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me!” the old man said, “it is wonderful. +Where did you buy it?” +</p> +<p> +“Buy it? I did not buy it,” she replied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +Then she told him how she got it from the +river. +</p> +<p> +“I feel hungry,” the old man affirmed. +“Let us eat the peach at once.” +</p> +<p> +They went to the house and got a knife. +But just as the old man was about to cut the +peach he heard a child’s clear voice say, +“Good sir, wait!” +</p> +<p> +Instantly the peach split in two halves, +and out danced a little boy less than six +inches high. This was so unexpected that +the man and woman nearly fainted with astonishment +and fright. +</p> +<p> +“Do not be afraid,” the boy said. “You +have often lamented that you have no child, +and I have been sent to be your son.” +</p> +<p> +The old couple were very much pleased, +and they did all they could to show how welcome +he was to their home. Peach-boy was +the name they gave him. The years passed, +and he grew to be a man remarkable for his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +beauty, his courage, and, above all, for his +great strength. +</p> +<p> +One day he came to the old man and old +woman and said: “Father, your kindness +has been higher than the mountain on which +you cut grass; and Mother, yours has been +deeper than the river in which you wash +clothes. How can I thank you?” +</p> +<p> +“Do not thank us,” the old man replied. +“The time will come when we cannot work, +and then we shall be dependent on you.” +</p> +<p> +“But as things are,” Peach-boy said, “I +am so greatly indebted to you that I hesitate +to make a request that is in my mind.” +</p> +<p> +“What is it?” they questioned. +</p> +<p> +“It is that you allow me to go away for +a short time,” he answered. +</p> +<p> +“Go away? Where to?” they asked. +</p> +<p> +“I would have you know,” he said, “that +north of the mainland of Japan is an island +inhabited by demons, who kill our people +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +and steal our treasure. I want to destroy +them and bring back all their stolen riches. +For this purpose I wish to leave you.” +</p> +<p> +The old man was at first speechless with +astonishment, but as he considered the matter +he was convinced that Peach-boy was +not mortal in his origin and therefore was +probably safe from injury. +</p> +<p> +So he said: “You wish to go, and I will +not stop you. Indeed, as those demons are +the enemies of Japan, the sooner you destroy +them and save your country from their +depredations the better.” +</p> +<p> +Preparations for Peach-boy’s journey began +at once. The old woman made him +some dumplings and got his clothes ready. +When the time came for him to start, the +old couple saw him off with tears in their +eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Take care of yourself. May you return +victorious,” they said. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>XVI—A WARRIOR’S HELPERS</h2> +<p> +Peach-boy walked steadily and rapidly +along the highway from early morning +until midday, when he sat down to eat his +dinner. Just as he took out one of the +dumplings, a big savage dog appeared. +</p> +<p> +“Wow! wow!” the dog barked. “You +have come into my territory without leave. +If you do not at once give me your dinner +I will devour you.” +</p> +<p> +Peach-boy smiled scornfully. “I am on +my way to fight the enemies of Japan,” he +said. “Don’t try to stop me or I will slay +you.” +</p> +<p> +“I did not know the purpose of your journey,” +the dog responded, cowering and putting his tail between +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +his legs. “I humbly +beg your pardon for my rude conduct. +Please allow me to accompany and help +you.” +</p> +<p> +“You are welcome to go with me,” Peach-boy +said. +</p> +<p> +“But I am very hungry,” the dog told +him. “Will you please give me something +to eat?” +</p> +<p> +“Here is a dumpling for you,” was +Peach-boy’s response. +</p> +<p> +When the dog had eaten the dumpling +they hurried on. They crossed many mountains +and valleys, and one day a monkey +sprang down from a tree in front of them +and asked, “Where are you going so fast?” +</p> +<p> +“We are going to fight the enemies of +Japan,” Peach-boy answered. +</p> +<p> +“Then pray allow me to go with you,” the +monkey said. +</p> +<p> +The dog came angrily forward. “Of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +what use would you be?” he snarled. “I +alone accompany this great warrior.” +</p> +<p> +Monkeys and dogs never can be friends, +and of course this speech made the monkey +very angry. +</p> +<p> +“You think a great deal of yourself!” he +screeched, and he approached the dog ready +to assail him with his teeth and nails. +</p> +<p> +But Peach-boy stepped between them, +saying: “Stop! Do not be so hasty, you +two. Stand back, dog. This monkey is not +a bad fellow, and I intend to enrol him as +one of my vassals.” +</p> +<p> +Then he gave the monkey half a dumpling +to eat. Presently the three went on +along the highway. But it was no easy matter +to keep the peace between the dog and +the monkey. So at last Peach-boy had the +monkey march ahead of him with his standard, +and the dog follow behind him carrying +his sword. +</p> +<div><a name='img06' id='img06'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i006' id='i006'></a> +<img src="images/img06.jpg" alt="The Monkey and the Warrior" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'><em>The Monkey and the Warrior</em></span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span></div> +<p> +At length they entered a wilderness, and +a wonderful bird sprang up from the ground +as if to assail them. The bird’s head plumage +was of the deepest crimson and his body +was clothed with a feather robe in five colors. +</p> +<p> +The dog dashed at the bird to seize and +devour him, but Peach-boy sprang forward +and prevented this. Then he said: “Bird, +do you wish to interrupt my journey? If +so, the dog shall bite off your head. But if +you submit to me you can be one of my company +and help fight the enemies of Japan.” +</p> +<p> +The bird instantly bowed in front of +Peach-boy, saying, “I am a humble bird +called the pheasant. It would be an honor +to accompany you on such an expedition.” +</p> +<p> +“Does this low fellow go with us?” the +dog growled disdainfully. +</p> +<p> +“That is no business of yours,” Peach-boy +said; “and I give you three animals +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +warning that if any quarreling starts among +you I will send you all back that very moment. +In war a good position is better than +good luck, but union is better than either +good luck or good position. There can be +no squabbling among ourselves if we are to +win.” +</p> +<p> +The three animals listened respectfully +and promised implicit obedience. Then the +pheasant ate a half dumpling that Peach-boy +gave him, and the four went on together. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>XVII—THE ISLAND OF DEMONS</h2> +<p> +At last Peach-boy and his companions came +to the sea. They looked off across the +water in the direction which he told them +the island lay whose demon inhabitants he +and they were to destroy, and saw nothing +but waves. The dog, the monkey, and the +pheasant are all creatures that live on dry +land, and though the steepest cliff and deepest +valley could not frighten them, yet when +they saw that endless stretch of rolling +waves, they stood speechless and fearful. +</p> +<p> +Peach-boy observed this and said in a +loud voice: “My vassals, why do you +tremble? Does the ocean frighten you? +It would have been better to have come alone +than to have picked up such companions. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +But now I will dismiss you. Return!” +</p> +<p> +They were much pained at hearing these +reproaches, and they clung to him beseeching +him not to send them away. Apparently +they were plucking up courage, and +he consented to retain them. +</p> +<p> +He had them help prepare a boat, and they +set sail with the first favorable wind. The +shore behind them was soon lost to sight, +and for a while the animals were very unhappy. +But they gradually became accustomed +to the motion and presently stood +on deck eagerly looking ahead to see the +island as soon as it came into view. When +they wearied of that they began to show +their accomplishments. The dog sat up and +begged, the monkey played tricks, and the +pheasant sang a song. +</p> +<p> +Their performances greatly amused +Peach-boy, and before he knew it the island +was close at hand. On it he could see numerous flags +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +fluttering above what seemed to +be an impregnable fortress. This fortress +had a heavy gate of iron, and inside were +many closely-crowded houses, all of which +had iron roofs. +</p> +<p> +Peach-boy turned to the pheasant and +said: “You have wings. Fly to the fortress +and find out what those island demons +are doing.” +</p> +<p> +The pheasant promptly obeyed his orders +and found the demons, some of them red, +some black, some blue, assembled on the iron +roofs of their houses. “Listen, you island +demons!” the pheasant cried. “A mighty +warrior is coming with an army to destroy +you. If you wish to save your lives, yield +at once.” +</p> +<p> +“You vain pheasant!” the demons +laughed, “it is you who will be destroyed—not +us.” +</p> +<p> +So saying, they shook their horns at him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +girded up their garments of tiger-skin, and +seized their weapons. But that did not scare +the pheasant. He swooped down and with +one peck took off the head of a red demon. +</p> +<p> +Then began a fierce battle, and soon the +gate burst open, and Peach-boy with the +dog and monkey rushed in raging like lions. +The demons, who thought that they only had +to do with one bird, were much alarmed, yet +they fought bravely, and even their children +joined in the fray. The sound of their yells +as it mingled with the sound of the waves +beating on the shore was truly terrible. +</p> +<p> +In the end they got the worst of it. Some +fell from the roofs of their houses, the walls +of the fortress, and the wild cliffs, and some +were killed by the irresistible onslaughts of +Peach-boy, and of the dog, the monkey, and +the pheasant. +</p> +<p> +When, at last, only the head demon remained +alive, he threw away his weapons, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +and knelt in submission before Peach-boy +with the tears streaming down his cheeks. +“Great warrior,” he said, “spare my life! +From today I shall reform. Spare me!” +</p> +<p> +Peach-boy laughed scornfully. “You +villain!” he cried, “for many years you +have persecuted and killed innocent people; +and now that your own life is in danger you +beg for mercy and promise to reform. You +deserve no mercy, and shall receive none.” +</p> +<p> +So the head demon shared the fate of the +rest of his tribe, and Peach-boy and his comrades +loaded their boat with the hoarded island +treasures. There were coral and tortoise +and pearls, not to speak of magic hats +and coats that made their wearers invisible. +</p> +<p> +All these things they carried away, and +great was the joy of the old man and old +woman when they saw Peach-boy return victorious. +After that he and they lived +happily to the end of their days. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span><a name='chXVIII' id='chXVIII'></a>XVIII—ANDREW COFFEY</h2> +<p> +My grandfather, Andrew Coffey, was +known to every one in the region about his +home as a quiet decent man. He was fond +of rambling and riding, and was familiar +with every hill and dale, bog and pasture, +field and covert in that part of the country. +</p> +<p> +Then fancy his surprise, while riding only +a few miles from home, one evening, to find +himself in a vicinity that he did not recognize +at all. His good horse was constantly +stumbling against some tree or into +some bog-hole that by rights ought not to be +there. To make matters worse, a cold +March wind was blowing, and rain began to +pelt down. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +</p> +<p> +Soon he was gladdened by the sight of a +light among the trees in the distance, and +when he drew near he found a cabin, though +for the life of him he couldn’t think how it +came there. However, after tying his +horse, in he walked. A fire was blazing on +the hearth, and near it was a comfortable +chair. But not a soul was there in the room. +</p> +<p> +He sat down and got a little warm and +cheered after his drenching, but all the while +he was wondering and wondering. He was +still puzzling over his experiences when he +heard a voice. +</p> +<p> +“Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey!” it +said. +</p> +<p> +Good heavens! who was calling him, and +not a soul in sight? Look around as he +might, he could find no one indoors or out. +To add to his other worries, his horse was +gone. Again he heard the voice. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey!</em> tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +me a story,” it said, and it spoke louder than +before. +</p> +<p> +What a thing to ask for! It was bad +enough not to be left in peace seated by the +fire drying oneself, without being bothered +for a story. A third time the voice spoke, +and louder than ever. +</p> +<p> +“<span class='sc'>Andrew Coffey!</span> <span class='sc'>Andrew Coffey!</span> tell +me a story or it will be the worse for you,” it +said. +</p> +<p> +My poor grandfather was so dumb-founded +that he could only stand and stare. +For a fourth time the voice spoke. +</p> +<p> +“ANDREW COFFEY! ANDREW +COFFEY!” it shouted, “I told you it would +be the worse for you.” +</p> +<p> +Then a man bounced out from a cupboard +that Andrew Coffey had not noticed before. +He was in a towering rage, and he carried +as fine a blackthorn club as was ever used to +crack a man’s head. When my grandfather clapped eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +on him he knew him for +Patrick Rooney who had gone overboard +one day in a sudden storm while fishing on +the sea long years ago. +</p> +<p> +Andrew Coffey did not stop to visit, but +took to his heels and got out of the house as +quickly as he could. He ran and he ran +taking little thought of where he went till +at last he ran against a tree. Then he sat +down to rest. +</p> +<p> +But he had been there only a few moments +when he heard voices. One said, +“the vagabond is heavy.” +</p> +<p> +Another said, “Steady now, lads.” +</p> +<p> +A third said, “I’ve lugged him as far as +I care to.” +</p> +<p> +A fourth said, “We’ll stop when we get to +the big tree yonder.” +</p> +<p> +That happened to be the tree under which +Andrew Coffey was sitting. “Better see +than be seen,” he thought. Then he swung +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +himself up by a branch and was soon snugly +hidden away in the tree. +</p> +<p> +The rain and wind had ceased and there +was light enough for Andrew Coffey to see +four men carrying a long box. They +brought it under the tree, set it down, and +opened it. Then, what should they take out +but Patrick Rooney? Never a word did he +say, and he was as pale as new-fallen snow. +</p> +<p> +The men gathered brushwood and soon +had a fire burning. Then they stuck two +stakes into the ground on each side of the +fire, laid a pole across on the tops of them, +and on to the pole they slung Patrick +Rooney. +</p> +<p> +“He’s all fixed now,” one said, “but who’s +to take care of the fire while we’re away?” +</p> +<p> +With that Patrick opened his lips. “Andrew +Coffey,” he said. +</p> +<p> +Then the four men, each speaking the +name once, called out, “Andrew Coffey! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! Andrew +Coffey!” +</p> +<p> +“Gentlemen, I’d be glad to oblige you,” +Andrew Coffey said, “but I know nothing +about this sort of roasting.” +</p> +<p> +“You’d better come down, Andrew Coffey,” +Patrick said. +</p> +<p> +It was the second time he spoke, and Andrew +Coffey decided he would come down. +The four men went off, and he was left alone +with Patrick. He sat down by the fire and +kept it even, and all the while Patrick looked +at him. +</p> +<p> +Poor Andrew Coffey couldn’t understand +the situation at all, and he stared at Patrick +and at the fire, and thought of the cabin in +the wood till he felt quite dazed. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, you’re burning me!” Patrick said, +very short and sharp. +</p> +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” my grandfather +said, and hastened to fix the fire. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +</p> +<p> +He couldn’t get the notion out of his head +that something was wrong. Hadn’t everybody, +near and far, said that Patrick had +fallen overboard? +</p> +<p> +“<em>Andrew Coffey!</em> <em>Andrew Coffey!</em> +you’re burning me!” Patrick exclaimed. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather was sorry enough, and +he vowed he wouldn’t do so again. +</p> +<p> +“You’d better not,” Patrick grumbled, +and he gave him a cock of his eye, and a +grin of his teeth that sent a shiver down Andrew +Coffey’s back. It certainly was odd +that Andrew Coffey should be there in a +thick wood that he had never set eyes on before, +roasting Patrick Rooney. You can’t +wonder that my grandfather thought and +thought and forgot the fire. +</p> +<p> +<em>“Andrew Coffey!</em> <em>Andrew Coffey!</em> I’ll +punish you for the way you’re neglecting +me!” Patrick Rooney cried. +</p> +<p> +He was unslinging himself from the pole +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +now, and his eyes glared and his teeth glistened. +My grandfather got up in haste and +ran off into the gloomy wood. He stumbled +over stones, the brambles tore his clothes, the +branches beat his face. +</p> +<p> +Presently he saw a light and was glad. +A minute later he was kneeling by a hearth-side, +dazed and bedraggled. The flames +leaped and crackled, and he was beginning +to get warm and feel a little easy in his mind +when he heard a voice shouting, “Andrew +Coffey! Andrew Coffey!” +</p> +<p> +It’s hard for a man to jump after going +through all my grandfather had, but jump +he did. When he looked around, where +should he find himself but in the very cabin +in which he had first met Patrick. +</p> +<p> +“Andrew Coffey! Andrew Coffey! tell +me a story,” the voice said. +</p> +<p> +“Is it a story you want?” my grandfather +said, as bold as could be, for he was tired of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +being frightened. “Well then, here’s one.” +</p> +<p> +And he told the tale of what had befallen +him from first to last that night. The tale +was long and he was weary. He must have +fallen asleep, for when he awoke he lay on +a hillside under the open heavens, and his +horse grazed at his side. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span><a name='chXIX' id='chXIX'></a>XIX—CARELESS MR. BUZZARD</h2> +<p> +Mr. Turkey Buzzard doesn’t have any +sense. You watch him and you will see that +what I have said is true. +</p> +<p> +When the rain pours down he sits on the +fence and hunches up his shoulders and +draws in his neck and tries to hide his head. +There he sits looking so pitiful that you are +real sorry for him. +</p> +<p> +“Never mind,” he says to himself, “when +this rain is over I’m going to build a house +right off. I’m not going to let the rain pelt +me this way again.” +</p> +<p> +But after the clouds were gone, and a +fresh breeze blew, and the sun shone, what +did Mr. Turkey Buzzard do? He sat on top +of a dead pine tree where the sun could warm +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +him, and he stretched out his wings, and he +turned round and round so the wind could +dry his feathers. Then he laughed to himself +and said: “The rain is over. It isn’t +going to rain any more, there’s no use of my +building a house now.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Turkey Buzzard is certainly a very +careless man. When it is raining he can’t +build a house, and when it isn’t raining he +doesn’t need one. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +If you have enjoyed these stories you will want to +read the other books in the series. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUEBEARD***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 37464-h.txt or 37464-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/7/4/6/37464">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/6/37464</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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