Children's Short Works, Vol. 047 by Various — Free Audiobook

1 01 - The Baba Yaga 6:23

The Baba Yaga by W.R.S.

Ralston. The Baba Yaga. Once upon a time there was an old couple. The husband lost his wife and married again. But he had a daughter by the first marriage, a young girl, and she found no favor in the eyes of her evil stepmother. Who used to beat her, and consider how she could get her killed outright. One day, the father went away somewhere or other, so the stepmother said to the girl, Go to your aunt, my sister, and ask her for a needle and thread to make you a shift. Now that aunt was a Baba Yaga. Well, the girl was no fool, so she went to a real aunt of hers first, and says she, Good morning, Auntie. Good morning, my dear. What have you come for? Mother has sent me to her sister to ask for a needle and thread to make a shift.

Then her aunt instructed her what to do. There is a birch tree there, niece, which would hit you in the eye. You must tie a ribbon round it. There are doors which would creak and bang. You must pour oil on their hinges. There are dogs which would tear you to pieces. You must throw them these rolls. There is a cat which would scratch your eyes out. You must give it a piece of bacon. So the girl went away and walked and walked. Till she came to the place. There stood a hut, and in it sat weaving the Baba Yaga, the bony shanks. Good morning, Auntie, says the girl. Good morning, my dear, replies the Baba Yaga. Mother has sent me to ask you for a needle and thread to make a shift. Very well. Sit down and weave a little in the meantime.

So the girl sat down behind the loom, and the Baba Yaga went outside and said to her servant maid, Go and heat the bath, and get my niece washed. And mind you look sharp after her. I want to breakfast off her. Well, the girl sat there in such a fright that she was as much dead as alive. Presently she spoke imploringly to the servant maid, saying, Kinswoman, dear, do please wet the firewood instead of making it burn, and fetch the water for the bath in a sieve. And she made her a present of a handkerchief. The Baba Yaga waited a while. Then she came to the window and asked, Are you weaving, niece? Are you weaving, my dear? Oh yes, dear aunt, I'm weaving. So the Baba Yaga went away again, and the girl gave the cat a piece of bacon and asked, Is there no way escaping from here?

Here's a comb for you and a towel, said the cat. Take them and be off. The Baba Yaga will pursue you, but you must lay your ear on the ground, and when you hear that she is close at hand, first of all, throw down the towel. It will become a wide, wide river, and if the Baba Yaga gets across the river and tries to catch you, then you must lay your ear on the ground again, and when you hear that she is close at hand, throw down the comb. It will become a dense, dense forest. Through that, she won't be able to force her way anyhow. The girl took the towel in the comb and fled. The dogs would have rent her, but she threw them the rolls, and they let her go by. The doors would have begun to bang, but she poured oil on their hinges, and they let her pass through.

The birch tree would have poked her eyes out, but she tied the ribbon around it, and it let her pass on. And the cat sat down to the loom and worked away, muddled everything about if it didn't do much weaving. Up came the Baba Yaga to the window and asked, Are you weaving, niece? Are you weaving, my dear? I'm weaving, dear aunt. I'm weaving, gruffly replied the cat. The Baba Yaga rushed into the hut and saw that the girl was gone, and took to beating the cat, and abusing it for not having scratched the girl's eyes out. "'Long as I have served you,' said the cat, "'you've never given me so much as a bone, but she gave me bacon.' Then the Baba Yaga pounced upon the dogs, on the doors, on the birch tree, and on the servant maid, and set to work to abuse them all and to knock them about.

Then the dog said to her, "'Long as we've served you,' The birch tree said, And the servant maid said, The Baba Yaga, bony of limb, quickly jumped into her mortar, sent it flying along with a pestle, sweeping away the while all traces of its flight with a broom, and set off in pursuit of the girl. Then the girl put her ear to the ground, and when she heard that the Baba Yaga was chasing her, and was now close at hand, she flung down the towel, and it became a wide, such a wide river. Up came the Baba Yaga to the river, and gnashed her teeth with spite. Then she went home for her oxen and drove them to the river. The oxen drank up every drop of the river, and then the Baba Yaga began the pursuit anew.

But the girl put her ear to the ground again, and when she heard that the Baba Yaga was near, she flung down the comb, and instantly a forest sprang up, such an awfully thick one. The Baba Yaga began gnawing away at it, but however hard she worked, she couldn't gnaw her way through it, so she had to go back again. But by this time, the girl's father had returned home, and he asked, Where's my daughter? She's gone to her aunt's, replied her stepmother. Soon afterwards, the girl herself came running home. Where have you been? asked her father. Ah, father, she said. Mother sent me to aunt's to ask for a needle and thread to make a shift, but aunt's a Baba Yaga, and she wanted to eat me. And how did you get away, daughter?

Why like this? said the girl, and explained the whole matter. As soon as her father had heard all about it, he became wroth with his wife and shot her. But he and his daughter lived on and flourished, and everything went well with them.

2 02 - The Elephant's Child 18:54

The Elephant's Child by Rudyard Kipling.

In the high and far-off times, the elephant, oh, best beloved, had no trunk. He had only a blackish, buggly nose, As big as a boot that he could wiggle from side to side, but he couldn't pick up things with it. But there was one elephant, a new elephant, an elephant's child, who was full of satable curiosity, and that means he asked ever so many questions. And he lived in Africa. And he filled all of Africa with his saddable curiosities. He asked his tall aunt, the ostrich, why her tail-feathers grew just so, and his tall aunt, the ostrich, spanked him with her hard, hard claw. He asked his tall uncle, the giraffe, what made his skin spotty, and his tall uncle, the giraffe, spanked him with his hard, hard hoof.

And still he was full of satable curiosity. He asked his broad aunt, the hippopotamus, why her eyes were red, and his broad aunt, the hippopotamus, spanked him with her broad, broad hoof. And he asked his hairy uncle, the baboon, why melons tasted just so, and his hairy uncle, the baboon, Spanked him with his hairy, hairy paw. And still he was full of saddable curiosity. He asked questions about everything that he saw, or heard, or felt, or smelt, or touched, and all his uncles and his aunts spanked him. And still he was full of saddable curiosity. One fine morning, in the middle of the procession of the equinox, this saddable elephant's child asked a new, fine question that he had never asked before.

He asked, What does the crocodile have for dinner? Then everybody said, Hush! in a loud and dreadful tone, and they spanked him immediately and directly, without stopping for a long time. By-and-by, when that was finished, he came upon Kolokolo Bird sitting in the middle of a wait-a-bit thorn-bush, and he said, My father has spanked me, and my mother has spanked me. All my aunts and uncles have spanked me for my sadable curiosity, and still I want to know what the crocodile has for dinner. Then Koloko Low Bird said, with a mournful cry, "'Go to the banks of the great grey-green-greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, and find out!' That very next morning, when there was nothing left of the equinoxes, because the procession had proceeded according to precedence, this saddable elephant's child took a hundred pounds of bananas.

the little short red kind, and a hundred pounds of sugar cane, the long purple kind, and seventeen melons, the green crackly kind, and said to his dear families, Good-bye. I'm going to the great gray, green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees, to find out what the crocodile has for dinner. And they all spanked him once more for luck. Though he asked them most politely to stop. Then he went away, a little warm, but not at all astonished, eating melons and throwing the rind about, because he could not pick it up. He went from Graham's Town to Kimberley, and from Kimberley to Kama's Country, and from Kama's Country he went East by North. Eating melons all the time, till at last he came to the banks of the great gray-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees, precisely as Kolokolo Bird had said.

Now you must know and understand, O best beloved, that till that very week and day and hour and minute This sadible elephant's child had never seen a crocodile, and did not know what one was like. It was all his sadible curiosity. The first thing that he found was a bicolored python rock snake curled round a rock. "'Scuse me," said the elephant's child most politely, "'But have you seen such a thing as a crocodile in these promiscuous parts?' Have I seen a crocodile? said the bicolored python rock snake, in a voice of dreadful scorn. What will you ask me next? Excuse me, said the elephant's child, but could you kindly tell me what he has for dinner? Then the bicolored python rock snake uncoiled himself very quickly from the rock and spanked the elephant's child with his scalesome, failsome tail.

That is odd, said the elephant's child, because my father and my mother and my uncle and my aunt, not to mention my other aunt the hippopotamus and my other uncle the baboon, have all spanked me for my saddable curiosity. And I suppose this is the same thing. So he said goodbye very politely to the bicolored python rock snake and helped to coil him up on the rock again, and went on, a little warm, but not at all astonished, eating melons and throwing the rind about, because he could not pick it up. Till he trod on what he thought was a log of wood at the very edge of the great gray, green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees. But it was really the crocodile, oh best beloved, and the crocodile winked one eye like this.

Excuse me, said the elephant's child most politely. But do you happen to have seen a crocodile in these promiscuous parts?" Then the crocodile winked the other eye, and lifted half his tail out of the mud, and the elephant's child stepped back most politely because he did not wish to be spanked again. "'Come hither, little one,' said the crocodile. "'Why do you ask such things?' "'Scuse me!' said the elephant's child most politely. But my father has spanked me, my mother has spanked me, not to mention my tall aunt, the ostrich, and my tall uncle, the giraffe, who can kick ever so hard, as well as my broad aunt, the hippopotamus, and my hairy uncle, the baboon, and including the bicolored python rock snake with a scalesome, failsome tail.

Just up the bank, who spanks harder than any of them? And so, if it's quite all the same to you, I don't want to be spanked any more. Come hither, little one," said the Crocodile, for I am the Crocodile. And he wept Crocodile tears to how it was quite true. Then the elephant's child grew all breathless and panted and kneeled down on the bank and said, You are the very person I have been looking for all these long days. Will you please tell me what you have for dinner? Come hither, little one," said the crocodile, and I'll whisper. Then the elephant's child put his head down close to the crocodile's musky, tusky mouth, and the crocodile caught him by his little nose, which, after that very week, day, hour, and minute, had been no bigger than a boot, though much more useful.

I think, said the crocodile, and he set it between his teeth like this. I think today I will begin with Elephant's Child." At this, oh best beloved, the Elephant's Child was much annoyed, and he said, speaking through his nose like this, Tetko, you're turning me. Then the bi-colored python rock snake scuffled down from the bank and said, My young friend, If you do not now, immediately, and instantly pull as hard as ever you can, it is my opinion that your acquaintance in the large patterned leather ulster, and by this he meant the crocodile, will jerk you into yonder limpid stream before you can say Jack Robinson. This is the way bicolored python rock snakes always talk. Then the elephant's child sat back on his little haunches and pulled and pulled and pulled, and his nose began to stretch.

And the crocodile floundered into the water, making it all creamy with great sweeps of his tail, and he pulled and pulled and pulled. And the elephant's child's nose kept on stretching, and the elephant's child spread all his little four legs and pulled and pulled and pulled, and his nose kept on stretching. And the crocodile thrashed his tail like an oar, and he pulled and pulled and pulled, and at each pull the elephant The elephant's child's nose grew longer and longer, and it hurt him.

Then the elephant's child felt his legs slipping, and he said through his nose, which was now nearly five feet long, This is too much for me. Then the bicolored python rock snake came down from the bank and nodded himself in a double-clove hitch around the elephant's hind legs and said, Rash and inexperienced traveler, we will now seriously devote ourselves to a little high tension, because if we do not, it is my impression that yonder self-propelling men of war with the armor-plated upper deck, and by this, oh best beloved he meant the crocodile, will permanently vitaliate your future career. That's the way all bicolored python rock snakes always talk. So he pulled, and the elephant's child pulled, and the crocodile pulled, but the elephant's child and the bicolored python rock snake pulled hardest, and at last the crocodile let go of the elephant child's nose with a plop that you could hear all up and down the Limpopo.

Then the elephant's child sat down most hard and sudden. But first he was careful to say, thank you, to the bicolored python rock snake. And next he was kind to his poor pulled nose, and wrapped it all up in coal and banana leaves, and hung it in the great gray-green greasy limpopo to cool. What are you doing that for? said the bicolored python rock snake. Excuse me. said the elephant's child, but my nose is badly out of shape, and I'm waiting for it to shrink. Then you'll have to wait a long time, said the bicolored python rock snake. Some people do not know what is good for them. The elephant's child sat there for three days waiting for his nose to shrink, but it never grew any shorter, and besides, it made him squint.

For, oh, best beloved, you will see and understand that the crocodile had pulled it out into a really, truly trunk, same as all elephants have today. At the end of the third day, a fly came and stung him on the shoulder, and before he knew what he was doing, he lifted up his trunk and hit the fly dead with the end of it. Vantage Number One. said the bicolored python rock snake. You couldn't have done that with a mere smear nose. Try and eat a little now. Before he thought what he was doing, the elephant's child put out his trunk and plucked a large bundle of grass, dusted it clean against his forelegs, and stuffed it into his own mouth. Vantage number two, said the bicolored python rock snake.

You couldn't have done that with a mere smear nose. Don't you think the sun is very hot here? It is, said the elephant's child, and before he thought what he was doing, he shlopped up a shlop of mud from the banks of the great gray-green greasy Limpapo and slapped it on his head. Where it made a cool, sloppy, sloshy mudcap, all trickly behind his ears. Vantage number three, said the bicolored python rock snake. You couldn't have done that with a mere smear nose. Now how do you feel about being spanked again? Excuse me, said the elephant's child, but I should not like it at all. How would you like to spank somebody? said the bicolored python rock snake. I should like it very much indeed, said the elephant's child.

Well, said the bicolored python rock snake, you'll find that new nose of yours very useful to spank people with. Thank you, said the elephant's child. I'll remember that, and now I think I'll go home to all my dear families and try. So the elephant's child went home across Africa, frisking and whisking his trunk. When he wanted fruit to eat, he pulled fruit down from a tree instead of waiting for it to fall as he used to do. When he wanted grass, he plucked grass up from the ground instead of going on his knees as he used to do. When the flies bit him, he broke off the branch of a tree and used it as a fly whisk. And he made himself a new, cool, slushy, squishy mudcap whenever the sun was hot.

When he felt lonely walking through Africa, he sang to himself down his trunk, and the noise was louder than several brass bands. He went especially out of his way to find a broad hippopotamus. She was no relation of his, and he spanked her very hard. To make sure that the bicolored python rock snake had spoken the truth about his new trunk. The rest of the time, he picked up the melon rinds that he had dropped on his way to the Limpopo, for he was a tidy pachyderm. One dark evening, he came back to all his dear families, and he coiled up his trunk and said, How do you do? They were very glad to see him, and immediately said, Come here and be spanked for your saddable curiosity. Pooh, said the elephant's child.

I don't think you peoples know anything about spanking. But I do, and I'll show you. Then he uncurled his trunk and knocked two of his dear brother's head over heels. "'Oh, bananas,' they said. "'Where did you learn that trick, and what have you done to your nose?' "'I got a new one from the crocodile on the banks of the great gray-green greasy Limpopo River,' said the elephant's child. "'I asked him what he had for dinner, and he gave me this to keep.' "'It looks very ugly,' said his hairy uncle, the baboon. "'It—' It does," said the elephant's child, but it is very useful, and he picked up his hairy uncle, the baboon, by one hairy leg and hoved him into a hornet's nest. Then that bad elephant's child spanked all his dear families for a long time, till they were very warm and greatly astonished.

He pulled out his tall ostrich-aunt's tail feathers, and he caught his tall uncle, the giraffe, by the hind leg and dragged him through a thorn bush. And he shouted at his broad aunt, the hippopotamus, and blew bubbles into her ear when she was sleeping in the water after meals. But he never let anyone touch Colocolo Bird. At last, things grew so exciting that his dear families went off one by one in a hurry to the banks of the great gray, green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever trees to borrow new noses from the crocodile. When they came back, nobody spanked anybody anymore, and ever since that day, oh, best beloved, all the elephants you will ever see, besides all those that you won't.

Have trunks precisely like the trunk of the settable elephant's child.

End of the Elephant's Child by Rudyard Kipling

3 03 - How the Camel Got His Hump 6:23

How the Camel Got His Hump by Rudyard Kipling. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org.

Now this is the next tale, and it tells how the camel got his big hump. In the beginning of years, when the world was so new and all, And the animals were just beginning to work for man. There was a camel, and he lived in the middle of a howling desert because he did not want to work. And besides, he was a howler himself. So he ate sticks and thorns and tamarix and milkweed and prickles. Most excruciating idol. And when anybody spoke to him, he said, Humph. Just humph. And no more. Presently, the horse came to him on Monday morning with a saddle on his back and a bit in his mouth and said, Camel, oh camel, come out and trot like the rest of us. Humph, said the camel, and the horse went away and told the man.

Presently, the dog came to him with a stick in his mouth and said, Camel, oh camel, come and fetch and carry like the rest of us. Humpf, said the camel, and the dog went away and told the man. Presently, the ox came to him with a yoke on his neck and said, Camel, oh camel, come and plough like the rest of us. Humpf, said the camel, and the ox went away and told the man. At the end of the day, the man called the horse and the dog and the ox together and said, 303, I am very sorry for you. With the world so new and all, but that humph thing in the desert can't work. Or he would have been here by now, so I'm going to leave him alone, and you must work double time to make up for it. That made the three very angry.

With the world so new and all, and they held a palaver and an indaba and a panchayat and a pavau on the edge of the desert. And the camel came chewing milkweed most excruciating idle and laughed at them. Then he said, Humph! and went away again. Presently there came along the jinn in charge of all desserts, rolling in a cloud of dust. Jinn's always travel that way because it is magic. And he stopped to the palaver and pava with the tree. Gin of all desserts, said the horse. Is it right for anyone to be idle with a world so new and old? Certainly not, said the Jinn. Well, said the horse, there is a thing in the middle of your howling dessert, and he is a howler himself, with a long neck and long legs, and he hasn't done a stroke of work since Monday morning.

He won't trot. Phew," said the jinn, whistling. That's my camel for all the golden Arabia. What does he say about it? He says humph, said the dog, and he won't fetch and carry. Does he say anything else? Only humph, and he won't plough, said the ox. Very good, said the jinn. I'll humph him if you'll kindly wait a minute. The jinn rolled himself up in his dusk lock and took a bearing across the desert and found the camel most excruciatingly idle, looking at his own reflection in a pool of water. My long and bubbling friend, said the jinn, what's this I hear of your doing no work with a world so new and all? Humph, said the camel. The jinn sat down. With his chin in his hand, he began to think great magic, while the camel looked at his own reflection in the pool of water.

You have given the three extra work ever since Monday morning, all on account of your excruciating idleness, said the jinn. And he went on thinking magics, with his chin in his hand. Humph, said the camel. I shouldn't say that again if I were you, said the jinn. You might say it once too often. Bubbles, I want you to work. And the camel said humph again, but no sooner had he said it than he saw his back that he was so proud of puffing up and puffing up into a great big lulloping humph. Do you see that? said the Jinn. That's your very own humph that you have brought upon your very own self by not working. Today is Thursday, and you've done no work since Monday. When the work began, now you are going to work.

How can I," said the camel, with this humph on my back. That's made a purpose, said the Jhin. All because you missed those three days. You will be able to work now for three days without eating. Because you can live on your humph, and don't you ever say I never did anything for you. Come out of the desert and go to the tree and behave. Hump yourself. And the camel humfed himself, humph and all, and went away to join the tree. And from that day to this, the camel always wears a humph. We call it hump now, not to hurt his feelings. But he has never yet caught up with the three days that he missed at the beginning of the world. And he has never yet learnt. How to behave.

4 04 - Leif and His New Land 10:35

Leaf and His New Land by Jenny Hall.

Now, Erik had lived in Greenland for fifteen years. His sons Thorsten and Leif had grown up to be big, strong men. One spring, Leif said to his father, I have never seen Norway, our motherland. I longed to go there and meet the great men and see the places that Scalds sing about. Erik answered, It is right that you should go. No man has really lived until he has seen Norway. So he helped Leif fit out a boat and sent him off. Leif sailed for months. He passed Iceland and the Faroes and the Shetlands. He stopped at all these places and feasted his mind on the new things. And everywhere men received him gladly, for he was handsome and wise. But at last he came near Norway. Then he stood up before the pilot's seat and sang loudly.

My eyes can see her at last, the mother of mighty men. The field of famous fights, in the sky above I see. Their eyes guard shining roofs. The flying hair of Thor, the wings of Odin's birds. The roads that heroes tread. I am here in the land of the gods, in the land of mighty men. For a while he walked the land as though he were in a dream. He looked at this and that and everything and loved them all because it was Norway. I will go to the king, he said. He had never seen a king. There were no kings in Iceland or in Greenland. So he went to the city where the king had his fine house. The king's name was Olaf. He was a great-grandson of Harald Harefair, Now the king was going to hold a feast at night, and Leif put on his most beautiful clothes to go to it.

He put on long tights of blue wool and a short jacket of blue velvet. He belted his jacket with a gold girdle. He had shoes of scarlet with golden clasps. He threw around himself a cape of scarlet velvet lined with seal fur. His long sword stuck out from under his cloak. On his head he put a knitted cap of bright colors. Then he walked to the king's feast hall and went through the door. It was a great hall, and it was full of richly dressed men. The fire shone on so many golden headbands and bracelets and so many glittering swords and spears on the wall, and there was so much noise of talking and laughing that at first Leif did not know what to do, but at last he went and sat on the very end seat of the bench near him.

As the feast went on, King Olaf sat in his high seat and looked about the hall and noticed this one and that one and spoke across the fire to many. He was keen-eyed, and soon saw Leif in his far seat. "'Yonder is some man of mark,' he said to himself. "'He is surely worth knowing. His face is not the face of a fool. He carries his head like a lord of men.' He sent a thrall and asked Leif to come to him, so Leif walked down the long hall and stood before the king. "'I am glad to have you for a guest,' the king said. "'What are your name and country?' I am Leif Erikson, and I have come all the way from Greenland to see you in Old Norway. From Greenland, said the king. It is not often that I see a Greenlander.

Many come to Norway to trade, but they seldom come to the king's hall. I shall be glad to hear about your land. Come up and speak with me. So Leif went up the steps of the high sea and sat down by the king and talked with him. When the feast was over, the king said, You shall live at my court this winter, Leif Erikson. You are a welcome guest. So Leif stayed there that winter. When he started back in the spring, the king gave him two thralls as a parting gift. Let this gift show my love, Leif Erikson, he said. For your sake I shall not forget Greenland. Leif sailed back again and had good luck until he was past Iceland. Then great winds came out of the north and tossed his ship about so the men could do nothing.

They were blown south for days and days. They did not know where they were. Then they saw land, and Leif said, Surely luck has brought us also to a new country. We will go in and see what kind of place it is. So he steered for it. As they came near, the men said, See the great trees and the soft green shore? Surely this is a better country than Greenland or than Iceland either. When they landed, they threw themselves upon the ground. I never lay on a bed so soft as this grass, one said. Taller trees do not grow in Norway, said another. There is no stone here as in Norway, but only good black dirt, Leif said. I never saw so fertile a land before. The men were hungry and set about building a fire.

There's no lack of fuel here, they said. They stayed many days in this country and walked about to see what was there. A German named Turker was with Leif. He was a little man with a high forehead and a short nose. His eyes were big and rolling. He had lived with Eric for many years and had taken care of Leif when he was a little boy, so Leif loved him. Now one day they were wandering about and all came back to camp at night except Turker. When Leif looked around on his comrades, he said, Where's Turker? No one knew. Then Leif was angry. Is a man of so little value in this empty land that you would lose one? He said. Why did you not keep together? Did you not see that he was gone? Why did you not set out to look for him?

Who knows what terrible thing may have happened to him in these great forests. Then he turned and started out to hunt for him. His men followed, silent and ashamed. They had not gone far when they saw Turker running toward them. He was laughing and talking to himself. Leif ran to him and put his arms about him with gladness at seeing him. "'Why are you so late?' he asked. "'Where have you been?' But Turker, still smiling and nodding his head, answered in German. He pointed to the woods and laughed and rolled his eyes. Again Leif asked his question and put his hand on Turker's shoulder, as though he would shake him. Then Turker answered in the language of Iceland, "'I have not been so very far, but I have found something wonderful.' "'What is it?' cried the men.

"'I have found grapes growing wild,' answered Turker, and he laughed, and his eyes shone. "'It cannot be,' Leif said. "'Grapes do not grow in Greenland, nor in Iceland, nor even in Norway, so it seemed a wonderful thing to these Norsemen.' Can I not tell grapes when I see them? cried Turker. Did I not grow up in Germany, where every hillside is covered with grapevines? Ah, it seems like my old home. It is wonderful, Leaf said. I have heard travelers tell of seeing grapes growing, but I myself never saw it. You shall take us to them early in the morning, Turker. So in the morning they went back into the woods and saw the grapes. They ate of them. They are like food and drink, they cried. That day, Leaf said, We spent most of the summer on the ocean.

Winter will soon be coming on, and the sea about Greenland will be frozen. We must start back. I mean to take some of the things of this land to show to our people at home. We will fill the rowboat with grapes and tow it behind us. The ship we will load with logs from these great trees. That will be a welcome shipload in Greenland, where we have neither trees nor vines. Now half of you shall gather grapes for the next few days, and the other half shall cut timber. So they did, and after a week sailed off, the ship was full of lumber, and they towed their rowboat loaded with grapes. As they looked back at the shore, Leif said, I will call this country Wineland, for the grapes that grow here. One of the men leaped upon the gunwale and leaned out, clinging to the sail and sang, Wineland the good, Wineland the warm, Wineland the green, the great, the fat.

Our dragon fed and crawls away, with belly stuffed and lazy feet. How long her purple trailing tail. She fed and grew to twice her size. Then all the men waved their hands to the shore and gave a great shout for that good land. For all that voyage, they had fair weather and sailed into Eric's harbor before the winter came. Eric saw the ship and ran down to the shore. He took Leif in his arms and said, Oh, my son, my old eyes ache to see you. I hunger to hear of all that you have seen and done. Luck has followed me all the way, said Leif. See what I have brought home. The Greenlanders looked. Lumber! Lumber! they cried. Oh, it is better stuff than gold. Then they saw the grapes and tasted them.

Surely you must have plundered Asgard, they said, smacking their lips. At the feast that night, Erik said, Leaf shall sit in the place of honor. So Leaf sat in the high seat opposite Erik. All men thought him a handsome and wise man. He told them of the storm and of lineland. No man would ever need a cloak there. The soil is richer than the soil of Norway.

The Greenlanders listened with open mouths to all of this. They turned and talked to Leif's ship comrades, who were scattered among them. Leif noticed two strangers, an old man who sat at Erik's side and a young woman on the cross bench. He turned to his brother Thorsten, who sat next to him. Who are these strangers? He asked. Thorbjörn and his daughter Goodrid. Thorsten answered. They landed here this spring. I never saw our father more glad of anything than to see this Thorbjorn. They were friends before we left Iceland. When they saw each other again, they could not talk enough of old times. In the spring, Erik means to give him a farm up the fjord away. It seems that this Thorbjorn comes of a good family and has been rich and great in Iceland for years.

And Thorbjorn himself was rich when our father knew him, and was much honored by all men. But ill luck came, and he grew poor. This hurt his pride. I will not stay in Iceland and be a beggar, he said to himself. I will not have men look at me and say, he is not what his father was. I will go to my friend Erik the Red in Greenland. Then he got ready a great feast and invited all his friends. It was such a feast as had not been in Iceland for years. Thorbjorn spent on it all the wealth that he had left, for he said to himself, I will not leave in shame. Men shall remember my last feast. After that he set out and came to Greenland. Is not Goodward beautiful? And she is wise. I mean to marry her, if father will permit it.

Now Leif settled down in Greenland and became a great man there. He was so busy and he grew so rich that he did not think of going to Wineland again. But people could not forget his story. Many nights as men sat about the long fires, they talked of that wonderful land and wished to see it. End of Leaf and His New Land by Jenny Hall

5 05 - Max and Maurice - A Juvenile History in Seven Tricks 16:03

Max and Morris, A Juvenile History in Seven Tricks, by William Bush, from the German by Charles T. Brooks, read by Nathan Lewin. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Max and Morris. Preface. Ah, how oft we read or hear of boys we almost stand in fear of. For example, take these stories of two youths named Max and Morris, who, instead of early turning their young minds to useful learning, often leered with horrid features at their lessons and their teachers. Look now at the empty head he is for mischief always ready, teasing creatures, climbing fences, Stealing apples, pears, and quences is, of course, a deal more pleasant, and far easier for the present, than to sit in schools or churches, fix like roosters on their perches.

But, oh dear, oh dear, oh dearie, when the end comes sad and dreary. Tis a dreadful thing to tell, that on Max and Morris fell. All they did this book rehearses, both in pictures and in verses. Trick First To most people who have leisure, raising poultry gives great pleasure. First, because the eggs they lay us, for the care we take repay us. Secondly, that now and then we can dine on roasted hen. Thirdly, of the hen's and goose's feathers, men make various uses. Some folks like to rest their heads in the night on feather-beds. One of these was widow Tibbetts, whom the cut you see exhibits. Hen were hers in number three, and a cock of majesty. Max and Morris took a view, felt a-thinking what to do.

One, two, three, as soon as said, They have sliced a loaf of bread. Cut each piece again in four, each a-finger thick, no more. These to two cross-threads they tie, like a leather X they lie, in the widow's yard with care, stretched by those two rascals there. Scarce the cock had seen the sight, when he up and crew with might, Cock-a-doodle-doodle-doo! Tack-tack-tack, the trio flew. Cocks and hens, like fowls unfed, gobbled each a piece of bread. But they found, on taking thought, each of them was badly caught. Every way they pull and twitch, this strange cat's cradle to unhitch. Up into their air they fly, Jiminy, oh, Jimini! On a tree behold them dangling, in the agony of strangling. And their necks grow long and longer, and their groans grow strong and stronger.

Each lays quickly one egg more. Then they cross to the other shore. Widow Tibbetts, in her chamber, by these death-cries, wakes from slumber, rushes out with bodeful thought. Heavens, what a sight her vision caught! From her eyes the tears are streaming. Oh, my cares, my toil, my dreaming! Ah, life's fairest hope, says she, hangs upon that apple-tree. Heart-sick, you may well suppose. For the carving-knife, she goes, cuts the bodies from the bough, hanging cold and lifeless now, and in silence, bathed in tears, through her house-door disappears. This was the bad boy's first trick, but the second follows quick. Trick Second. When the worthy widow Tibbetts, whom the Cut Below exhibits, had recovered on the morrow from the dreadful shock and sorrow, She, as soon as grief would let her think, began to think, "'T'were better just to take the dead, the dear ones, who in life were walking here once, and in a still noonday hour, them well-roasted to devour.

True, it did seem almost wicked when they lay so bare and naked, picked and singed before the blaze, they that once in happier days, in the yard or garden ground, all day long went scratching round. Ah, Frau Tibbetts wept anew, and poor Spitz was with her too. Max and Morris smelt the savour. Climb the roof, cried each young shaver. Through the chimney now of pleasure, they behold a tempting treasure, headless in the pan there lying, hissing, browning, steaming, frying. At that moment down the cellar, dreaming not what soon befell her, Widow Tippetts went for sauerkraut, which she would oft devour with exceeding great desire, warmed a little at the fire. Up there on the roof, meanwhile, they are doing things in style.

Max already with forethought a long fishing line has brought. Shnoop-de-whoop, there goes O Jiminy, one hen dangling up the chimney. Shnoop-de-whoop, a second bird. Shnoop-de-whoop, up comes the third. Presto, a number four they haul. Shnoop-de-whoop, we have them all. Spritz looks on, we must allow, but he barks, raw-raw, raw-raw. But the rogues are down and stanter from the roof, and off they canter. Ha! I guess there'll be a humming. Here's the widow Tibbet's coming. Rooted stood she to the spot, when the pan her vision caught. Gone was every blessed bird. Horrid Spitz was her first word. Oh, you Spitz, you monster, you! Let me beat him black and blue. And the heavy ladle, THWACK, comes down on poor Spitz's back.

Loud he yells with agony, for he feels his conscious free. Max and Morris dinner over, in a head snored under cover. And of that great hen feast now, each has but a leg to show. This was now the second trick, but the third will follow quick. Trick Third. Through the town and country round was one Mr. Buck renowned. Sunday coats and weekday sack coats, bobtails, swallowtails, and frock coats, gaiters, breeches, hunting jackets, waistcoats with commodious pockets, and other things too long to mention claimed Mr. Taylor Buck's attention. Or, if anything wont to doing, In the way of darning, suing, piecing, patching, if a button needed to be fixed or put on, anything of any kind, anywhere, before, behind, Master Buck could do the same, for it was his life's great aim.

Therefore all the population held him high in estimation. Max and Morris tried to invent ways to plague this worthy gent. Right before the Sardar's dwelling ran a swift stream roaring, swelling. This swift stream abridged its span. And the road across it ran. Max and Morris, naught could awe them, took a saw when no one saw them. Ritz-a-ratza, riddle-diddle, sawed a gap across the middle. When this feat was finished well, suddenly was heard a yell. "'Hallo there! Come out, you buck! Tailor, tailor! Muck, muck, muck!' Buck could bear all sorts of jeering, jives and jokes and silence hearing. But this insult roused such anger, nature couldn't stand it longer. Wild with fury up he started. With his yardstick out he darted.

For once more that frightful jeer, Muck, muck, muck, rang loud and clear. On the bridge one leap he makes, Crash! Beneath his weight it breaks. Once more rings the cry, Muck, muck! In head foremost plumps poor Buck. While the scared boys were skedaddling, Down the brook two geese came paddling. On the legs of these two geese, With a deft clutch buck that sees, And with both geese well in hand, Flutters out upon dry land. For the rest he did not find things exactly to his mind. Soon it proved, for Buck had brought a dreadful bellyache from the water. Noble Mrs. Buck, she rises, fully equal to the crisis. With a hot flat iron she draws the cold out famously. Soon it was in the mouths of men, all through town, Buck's up again.

This was the bad boy's third trick, but the fourth will follow quick. Trick Fourth. An old saw runs somewhat so. Man must learn while hear below. Not alone the ABC raises man in dignity. Not alone in reading, writing, reason finds a work inviting. Not alone to solve the double rule of three shall man take trouble, but must hear with pleasure sages teach the wisdom of the ages. Of this wisdom an example to the world was Master Lample. For this cause, to Max and Morris, this man was the chief of horrors. For a boy who loves bad tricks, wisdom's friendship never seeks. With the clerical profession, smoking always was a passion, and this habit without question, while it helps promote digestion, is a comfort no one can well begrudge a good old man, when the day's vexations close, and he sits to seek repose.

Max and Morris, flinty-hearted, on another trick have started, thinking how they might attack a poor old man through his tobacco. Once, when Sunday morning breaking, pious hearts to gladness waking, poured its light where, in the temple, at his organ, sate, helemple, these bad boys for mischief ready, stolen to the good man's study. Where his darling Mearsham stands, this Max holds in both his hands, while young Morris, scapegrace-born, Climbs and gets the powder horn, and with speed the wicked soul pours the powder in the bowl. Hush, and quick, now right about, for already church is out. Lembel closes the church door, glad to seek his home once more. All his service well got through, takes his keys, and music too, and his way delighted wends, homeward to his silent friends.

Full of gratitude he there lights his pipe and takes his chair. Ah, he says, no joy is found like contentment on earth's round. Fizz, whizz, boom, the pipe is burst, almost shattered into dust. Coffee pot and water jug, snuff box, inkstand, tumbler, mug, table, stove, and easy chair, all are flying through the air in a lightning powder flash with a most tremendous crash. When the smoke-cloud lifts and clears, Lempel on his back appears. God be praised, still breathing there, only somewhat worse for wear. Nose, hands, eyebrows, once like yours, now are black as any more's. Burned the last thin spear of hair, and his pate is wholly bare. Who shall now the children guide, leave their steps to wisdom's side?

Who shall now for master Lempel lead the service in the temple? Now that his old pipe is out, shattered, smashed, gone up the spout? Time will heal the rest once more, but the pipe's best days are o'er. This was the bad boy's fourth trick, but the fifth will follow quick. Trick Fifth. If, in village or in town, you've an uncle'd settle down, always treat him courteously. Uncle will be pleased thereby. In the morning, morning to you. Any errand I can do you. Fetch whatever he may need, pipe to smoke and news to read. Or should some confounding thing prick his back or bite or sting, nephew then will be nearby, ready to his help to fly. Or a pinch of snuff, maybe, sets him sneezing violently. Bross it, uncle!

Good health to you! God be praise! Much good, mate, do you? Or he comes home late, perchance, pull his boot off there at once, fetch his slippers and his cap, and warm gown his limbs to wrap. Be your constant care, good boy! What shall give your uncle joy? Max and Morris, need I mention, had not any such intention. See now how they tried their wits, these bad boys, on Uncle Fritz. What kind of a bird a may bug was they knew, I dare say. In the trees they may be found, flying, crawling, wriggling round. Max and Morris, great pains taking, from the tree these bugs are shaking. In their cornucopia papers they collect these pinching creepers. Soon they are deposited in the foot of Uncle's bed. With his peak nightcap on, Uncle Fritz to bed has gone, tucks the clothes in, shuts his eyes, and in sweetest slumber lies.

Fritze, gratze, come the tartars, single file from their night quarters, and the captain boldly goes straight at Uncle Fritz's nose. Bah! he cries, what have we here, seizing that grim grenadier? Uncle, wild with fright, upspringeth. And the bedclothes from him flingeth. Ouch! He seizes two more scape graces from his shin and nape. Crawling, flying to and fro, round the buzzing rascals go. Wild with fury, Uncle Fritz stamps and slashes them to bits. Oh, be joyful, all gone by is the Maybug's deviltry. Uncle Fritz, his eyes can close once again in sweet repose. This was the bad boy's fifth trick, but the sixth will follow quick. Trick Sixth Easter Days Have Come Again When the pious baker men bake all sorts of sugar things, plum cakes, ginger cakes, and rings.

Max and Morris feel an ache in their sweet tooth for some cake. But the baker, thoughtfully, locks his shop and takes the key. Who would steal, then, this must do? Wriggle down the chimney flue. Ratch! There come the boys by chimney, black as ravens down the chimney. Puff into a chest they drop. Full of flour up to the top. Out they crawl from under cover, just as white as chalk, all over. But the cracknell's precious treasure, on a shelf they spy with pleasure. Naxx, the chair breaks, down they go. Schwap, into a trough of dough. All enveloped now in dough, see them, monuments of woe. In the baker comes and snickers, when he sees the sugar-lickers. One, two, three, and the brats, behold, into two good brats are rolled.

There's the oven all red-hot. Shove him in as quick as thought. Rough out with him from the heat. They are brown and good to eat. Now you think they've paid the debt? No, my friend, they're living yet. Nusper nusper, like two mice. Through their roofs they gnaw in a trice. And the baker cries, You bet there's the rascals living yet. This was the bad boy's sixth trick, but the last will follow quick. Last Trick Max and Morris, I grow sick when I think on your last trick. Why must these two scallywags cut those gashes in the bags? See, the farmer on his back carries corn off in a sack. Scarce as he began to travel, when the corn runs out like gravel. All at once he stops and cries, Darn it! I see where it lies.

Ha! with what delighted eyes Max and Morris he espies. Rabs he open wide his sack, shoves the rogues in, hook a pack, It grows warm with Max and Morris, for to mill the farmer horries. Master Miller, hello, man! Grind me that as quick as you can. In with him, each wretched flopper, headlong goes into the hopper. As the farmer turns his back, he hears the mill go creaky-cracky. Here you see the bits post-mortem, just as fate was pleased to sort him. Master Miller's ducks with speed gobbled up the coarse-grained feed. Conclusion In the village not a word, not a sign of grief was heard. Widow Tippetts, speaking low, said, I thought it would be so. None but self, cried Buck to blame. Mischief is not life's true aim.

Then said gravely Teacher Lample, There again is an example. To be sure, bad thing for youth, said the baker, a sweet tooth. Even uncle said, Good folks, see what comes of stupid jokes. But the honest farmer, Guy, what concern is that to I? Through the place, in short, there went one wide murmur of content. God be praised, the town is free from this great rascality. End of Max and Morris, A Juvenile History in Seven Tricks, by William Bush, from the German, by Charles T.

6 06 - On The Way To The Sun 2:48

On the Way to the Sun by Mrs. W. K. Clifford. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. On the Way to the Sun He had journeyed a long way and was very tired. It seemed like a dream when he stood up after a sleep in the field and looked over the wall and saw the garden and the flowers and the children playing all about. He looked at the long road behind him, at the dark wood and the barren hills. It was the world to which he belonged. He looked at the garden before him, at the big house and the terrace and the steps that led down to the smooth lawn. It was the world which belonged to the children.

Poor boy, said the elder child. I will get you something to eat. But where did he come from? the gardener asked. We do not know, the child answered, but he is very hungry, and mother says we may give him some food. I will take him some milk, said the little one. In one hand she carried a mug, and with the other she pulled along her little broken cart. But what is he called? asked the gardener. We do not know, the little one answered, but he is very thirsty, and Mother says we may give him some milk. Where is he going? asked the gardener. We do not know, the children said, but he is very tired. When the boy had rested well, He got up, saying, I must not stay any longer, and turned to go on his way.

What have you to do? The children asked. I am one of the crew and must help to make the world go round, he answered. Why do we not help too? You are the passengers. How far have you to go? They asked. Oh, a long way, he answered. On and on until I can touch the sun. Will you really touch it? They said, awestruck. I dare say I shall tire long before I get there, he answered sadly. Perhaps without knowing it, though, I shall reach it in my sleep, he added. But they hardly heard the last words, for he was already far off. Why did you talk to him, the gardener said. He is just a working boy, and we do nothing. It was very good of him to notice us, they said humbly. Good, said the gardener in despair.

Why, between you and him there is a great difference. There was only a wall, they answered. Who set it up, they asked curiously. Why, the builders, of course. Men set it up. And who will pull it down? It will not want any pulling down, the man answered grimly. Time will do that. As the children went back to their play, they looked up the light towards which the boy was journeying. Perhaps we too shall reach it some day, they said.

7 07 - Six Giants and a Griffin 18:44

Six Giants and a Griffon.

Gnomes were Teddy's favorites. He had no brothers and sisters, so was obliged to make up games for himself and invite people to play with him, and the people were almost always gnomes. At the foot of the lawn, which stretched before the house where he lived, stood an oak tree. This tree was so old that the trunk was quite hollow, and Teddy could squeeze inside it by making himself small. It was here that all his wonderful adventures began. He always went to the oak every morning, vaguely hoping at some time to catch sight of a belated elf who might be lurking about after the day had really begun. It had been raining for two days, and Teddy had been kept indoors with a cold, which he hated very much.

So on the third morning, when Mama allowed him to run out for a little while, he made all haste to the oak tree, because he felt that something would be changed, and he was quite disappointed to find everything looking just as usual. But when he went inside, however, there was a difference. A small trap-door with a brass ring in it had appeared in the bottom of the tree. Teddy was delighted, as he was sure the door had not been there two days ago, and he couldn't imagine what it was for. In a minute, he was trying to get it open, tugging at the brass ring as hard as he could. It was a tough struggle, but the door yielded at last, and so suddenly that Teddy fell over backward, out through the opening of the tree.

He didn't mind that, and was up in a jiffy, looking down the black hole which he had uncovered. At first, He couldn't see anything, then gradually made out some steps, at the bottom of which it seemed to be lighter. Ted hesitated. It was dark at the top, and he didn't know how far away the light might be. But he made up his mind to go down, and he went cautiously, backward, as on a ladder. It was a long flight. When he reached the bottom step at last, he saw that the light came from an opening at the end of the passage. and was much farther off than it looked, but he kept on, and when at last he arrived where it was brighter, he found himself in a new and strange country. To his surprise, everything was blue.

Grass, leaves on the trees, flowers, all a deep, lovely blue like the sea. Teddy stared about in much astonishment. There was no one in sight, but he heard a sort of soft humming sound. like people singing. It seemed to come from the left, so he ran off in that direction, and on turning a corner saw a hill in front of him, up which he climbed, and there the funniest sight met his eyes. Below, in a round clearing, was an open-air workshop. Tools of all kinds stood about, and in the center of a furnace, in full blast and hard at work, were hundreds of little blue gnomes. They were all hammering, sawing, and planing, making wooden tables and chairs of a very curious kind that Teddy had never seen before.

They kept up an odd chanting song as they worked, and this was what Teddy had heard. The words were something like these. Let us sing as we work, as hard as we're able. Let us sing as we finish, each chair and each table. The giants will come if we cease. from our song, and eat us all up, so sing, sing along. Another curious thing Teddy noticed was the presence of about a hundred blue elephants. They walked in solemn procession around the outskirts of the open space, each one holding with his trunk the tail of the one in front of him. Occasionally, the largest would put up his trunk and trumpet, and then they would do the same, solemnly turn around and walk the other way. While Teddy stood watching these strange sights, one of the gnomes, who seemed to be an overseer, looked up and saw him.

He gave a cry, which was echoed by the others. Then, with one accord, they stopped working, ran up the hill, and threw themselves on the ground before Teddy, shouting, "'He has come! He has come! Our preserver! Our preserver!' Teddy was a good deal embarrassed at this reception, and didn't know exactly what to say, so he took off his hat and bowed very politely and said nothing. The gnomes, on the contrary, talked all the time, and all together, which made a great deal of noise and was pretty confusing. Teddy heard the word giant again and again, also the word kill, and he wondered if he were to kill a giant, and if so, with what? After a while, they seemed to realize that he didn't understand, so they all fell back a little way, and the leader, the one who had given notice of Teddy's arrival, stepped forward and said, Teddy, we are glad to see you.

We have watched you for a long, long time, and always hoped to have a visit from you. But we were obliged to wait before putting up the steps and the trap-door, until you yourself had expressed a desire to help us, which you did last Saturday. Perhaps you remember saving one of my people from being killed by a cat on Saturday. Teddy looked puzzled. It was a frog I saved, he said. Topsy was going to eat it, and I was afraid she would get sick. It was not a frog, said the gnome with much displeasure. You may have thought it was a frog, but it was not. He seemed so put out that Teddy felt himself growing very red and embarrassed. I am sure I am very sorry, he said, and I am glad I was able to help you.

The gnome continued, but with much severity. You then said, After who had driven away the savage animal, Topsy is not a savage animal, interrupted Ted. She is a very nice cat. She is a savage animal to us, said the gnome, and all the other gnomes repeated, savage animal, in a sort of growl. As I was saying, the gnome went on, after having driven away the savage animal, you said you wished you could be like the celebrated Jack the Giant Killer, and then we decided you would help us, and we would put up the steps in the door. "'What am I to do now that I am here?' asked Teddy, much perplexed. "'Am I to kill a giant?' "'You are to kill six,' replied the gnome calmly, while a joyful chorus of six came from the hundreds of little gnomes standing by.

"'Six?' echoed Teddy faintly. "'I—I don't think I could kill six. I'm not sure I could kill one alone.' "'Not kill the six giants,' said the gnome, in a voice of anger and surprise. "'Then why did you come?' I don't know, and Teddy began to wish heartily that he had never found the Trap Door and never visited Gnome Land. There was a long silence, in which Teddy shifted his feet, twisted his cap into a string, and felt very unhappy and awkward. Then the silence was broken by the biggest gnome, who came a little closer to Teddy and said calmly but firmly, You expressed a wish to kill a giant. Here there are six. Who come every night, and when we are asleep and cannot sing, and when our elephants are obliged to leave us to attend to their other duties.

When we wake in the morning, we find our work all undone and broken, our tools made useless, and often many of our number killed. You must rid us of these pests. And if you cannot think of a way now, you must remain here in captivity until you do. So speaking, he led Teddy into a cave into the side of the hill and pushed him in. When you are ready, he said, you have only to blow this whistle loudly twice and you will be released. Then the door closed, and Teddy found himself alone. For a few minutes, all he heard was the pattering of hundreds of little feet. Going down the hill, then the chanting song commenced, and he knew that they had come back to their work. Teddy was thoroughly frightened.

He had no idea how to kill giantons, though he had often thought about it. But now that the chance had come, he couldn't think of a single way to accomplishment. And after a while, he began to cry. While he was crying very hard, he heard a scratchy sound. And looking up, he saw a little red squirrel coming in through a crack in the cave. The squirrel winked fairly solemnly with one bright eye, and then remarked, I wouldn't cry if I were you. What would you do, said Ted, rather put out by the squirrel's toe. I'd go to work, was the answer, delivered with another wink. I don't know how to, said Teddy, and I can't get out if I did know. You must find Mama know-all, said the squirrel, whisking his tail.

She will help you. She knows you well. She is in your house a lot of the time. At my house, said Teddy, much surprised. Whereabouts? That would be telling, and the squirrel winked again. Teddy rose to his feet. Let us go and find her at once, he said. If I have to do this thing, there is no use in waiting any longer. Now you are acting with some sense, said the squirrel. Blow your whistle, and tell them you must be let out anyway, that you can't think locked up. And then start to your left, through the woods, and I will join you. With that, he scurried into the darkness and disappeared. Teddy then blew his whistle twice loudly, and instantly the door opened, and he walked out. No one was in sight, so he obeyed the squirrel's instructions and ran to the woods where the squirrel joined him.

He walked quite a long way with little Redtail sitting on his shoulder, and at last arrived at a house on the side of a steep hill. Here Redtail got down from Teddy's shoulder and hid in a tree. I don't like Mama know-all, he said. You can talk to her. So Teddy knocked at the door, and a funny little old woman came out. Teddy told her his troubles, and she agreed to help him. I've known for a long time how to kill the giants, she said, but nobody has ever thought to ask me to help, and I can't think why they supposed a little boy like you could do it without me. I'm going to give you three oranges, which you must peel as you need them. The Looking Glass Sea. is at the top of this hill, and the giants live on the other side of the sea.

Do not use the oranges unless you have to, and above all things, do not step on the peel. Teddy thanked her very much, took the oranges, and began promptly to climb the hill, where the squirrel was waiting for him. They soon reached the top, and before them stretched the looking-glass sea, directly opposite. stood the gray castle belonging to the six giants. It had six enormous doors, six enormous windows, one over each door and also six chimneys. It stood so close to the edge of the sea that Teddy saw its reflection quite clearly, which made it seem twice its real size. He stared at the castle in hopeless despair. They must be large giants, he said. They are, answered the squirrel, the very largest.

"'I suppose I'd better cross the sea,' remarked Teddy. "'I suppose you'd better try to cross the sea,' said the squirrel. So Teddy put one foot on the edge, then the other foot, and then he took one step, and then he landed flat on his back with a most awful thump. This both surprised and hurt him, and he crawled on his hands and knees to the bank, feeling discouraged. "'I think I had better peel an orange,' he said. "'I'll never be able to walk over.' The squirrel agreed to this, and they did it together, being very careful to throw the peel behind them so that they should not step on it. Just as they finished, the orange slip from Teddy's hand slipped off on the seat and turned into a pair of beautiful big wheels, all nicely rubber-tired, like bicycle wheels, and with a little seat swung in between them.

Teddy was much delighted and lost no time in taking the seat. The wheels instantly began to roll up. Over the sea, and when he was very nearly across, he saw to his horror, looming up on the opposite bank, a very large bright green griffin with a long scaly tail and very big claws. The wheels seemed to be as frightened as Teddy, for they stopped short, and Teddy and the griffin looked at each other. Finally, the griffin roared at him, What do you want here, boy? Teddy didn't wish to say what he really wanted, so he gave a pleasant smile and said, I came to see you. The griffin looked as if he didn't believe that, and invited Teddy ashore. But Teddy was not to be caught so easily, and he invited the griffin to come out on the looking-glass seat.

This the griffin refused to do, and Teddy asked the wheels to wheel him as close to the bank as was safe, which they did, and then the little seat lowered him to the ice, and the wheels disappeared. Teddy sat there and looked at the griffin and wondered what the next move should be, when it suddenly occurred to him that it was time to use another orange. There was no place to leave the peel except on the sea, but the squirrel managed to carry the pieces quite off to the right, so that they wouldn't be in the way. When Teddy had finished peeling, the orange slipped out of his hand, just as the other had done, shot to the bank, and promptly turned into a dozen little cakes. Have some cake," said Teddy.

You come and hand them to me," said the griffin. No, you reach them for yourself," said Teddy. They are near the edge. Now the griffin liked cakes, very much indeed. These had pink frosting on them and looked very delicious. So he gingerly leaned over the edge and took one, and finding it good, ate them all. Just as he finished the last one, he began to bellow and roar and make such a noise that the giants all woke up. And each one rushed to a window and pushed out his head. Now these giants were very peculiar. Each had a different colored hair, and a great deal of it. The first one black, the second brown, the third white, the fourth yellow, the fifth red, and the sixth bright green. As they stuck out their heads, each through his own window, they presented a very fascinating and yet awful appearance.

They seemed much upset at hearing the griffin roar and seeing him stagger around, and they shouted to him all together. What is the matter? What has happened? I'm killed, said the griffin, and by that dreadful little boy. Come out and put an end to him. And with that, he exploded and flew up into the sky like a big green cloud. The giants screamed with rage, and calling to Daddy to wait till they came down, each drew in his head and disappeared. But they reappeared in a minute, armed with enormous clubs and were at the edge of the sea. Come here, they called. Come here, you young rascal, and shook their sticks at him. But Teddy sat where he was and laughed. They looked so funny, all standing on the bank with their different colored hair.

Finally, the one with the red hair became so angry that he stepped on the looking glass sea and put his foot on the orange peel that the squirrel had laid in a nice heap. His feet flew out from under him, just as Teddy's had done, and he came down with such an awful crash that he went right through and disappeared. There's one gone, said the squirrel pleased, and easily two. Now how about the other five? I don't know, said Teddy doubtfully. Had I better peel the last orange? I suppose you had, said the squirrel. It's your last chance, and if it doesn't work, we're lost. Teddy nodded as he was too busy to answer. He was throwing the pieces of peel at the giants, and as he threw them, they turned into little sharp stones and hit them, and hurt them, and that made them still more angry, and they called all the latter to him, and they didn't dare step on the sea.

When Teddy finished the orange, he laid it carefully down beside him, and waited to see what would happen. For at least five minutes it stayed where he had put it. And then it disappeared, and Teddy began to be awfully frightened, when all of a sudden he heard a very strange sound and turned to look in the direction from which it came. The sound continued, drawing nearer and nearer. It was a funny noise, swishy and squashy, now faint, now loud, but surely coming closer all the time. The giants heard it and grew uneasy. They pressed the shore of the sea and threatened Teddy more and more with their clubs. Suddenly, just as Teddy had begun to think Mammy Know-It-All had gone back on him altogether, a cloud of great white birds appeared, thousands of them, all flapping their wings together till it sounded like the roll of drums.

They descended upon the giants, pecking them with their bills and smothering them with their wings till the giants, in desperation, ran out on the sea and all fell through. The very second the green one sank out of sight, the Looking-Glass Sea turned into water, and Teddy and the squirrel were glad enough to scramble onto a piece of orange peel which had turned into a little yellow boat. Just as they were wondering which way they ought to go, they heard a great hullabaloo from the opposite shore, and there were all the gnomes, ranged along the bank, shouting and waving at Teddy, begging him to make haste over that they might crown him their king. But Teddy didn't want to go over. He didn't want to be a king.

He was tired of the gnomes and their blue elephants and their hollow trees, and he didn't propose to go back and be told to kill anything more, so he asked the squirrel if he knew how he could get home some other way, and the squirrel said, Shut your eyes and say, One, two, three, oak tree, oak tree. It was no sooner said than done, and immediately he found himself in the hollow oak at the foot of the steps and lost no time in climbing to the top. As he shut the trap-door behind him, he heard the shouts of the gnomes calling him to come back and be their king, but he and the squirrel fastened the trap-door in its place quickly, and then a very funny thing happened. The squirrel, who had been so friendly just a minute before, suddenly became very wild, and ran chattering out of the oak tree, and though Teddy ran after him, called him, begged him to come back, reminded him of the lovely time they had just had, he only ran further away, and finally disappeared of a beech tree, leaving Teddy standing disconsolately at the foot, wondering whether the thing had really happened, or whether it was all a dream.

Six Giants and a Griffin By BirdSaw Otis Eady.

8 08 - The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies 7:18

The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies by Beatrix Potter. It is said that the effect of eating too much lettuce is soporific. I have never felt sleepy after eating lettuces. But then, I am not a rabbit. They certainly had a very soporific effect upon the Flopsy Bunnies. When Benjamin Bunny grew up, he married his cousin Flopsy. They had a large family, and they were very improvident and cheerful. I do not remember the separate names of their children. They were generally called the Flopsy Bunnies. As there was not always quite enough to eat, Benjamin used to borrow cabbages from Flopsy's brother. Peter Rabbit, who kept a nursery garden. Sometimes, Peter Rabbit had no cabbages to spare. When this happened, the Flopsy Bunnies went across the field to a rubbish heap in the ditch outside of Mr.

McGregor's garden. Mr. McGregor's rubbish heap was a mixture. There were jam pots and paper bags and mountains of chopped grass from the mowing machine, which always tasted oily. And some rotten vegetable marls and an old boot or two. One day, oh joy, there were a quantity of overgrown lettuces which had shot into flour. The Flopsy Bunnies simply stuffed lettuces. By degrees, one after another, they were overcome with slumber and lay down in the mown grass. Benjamin was not so much overcome as his children. Before going to sleep, He was sufficiently wide awake to put a paper bag over his head to keep off the flies. The little Flopsy Bunny slept delightfully in the warm sun. From the lawn beyond the garden came the distant clackety sound of the mowing machine.

The blue bottles buzzed about the wall, and a little old mouse picked over the rubbish among the jam pots. I can tell you her name. She was called Tomasina Tidal Mouse. A wood mouse with a long tail. She rustled across the paper bag and awakened Benjamin Bunny. The mouse apologized profusely and said that she knew Peter Rabbit. While she and Benjamin were talking close under the wall, they heard a heavy tread above their heads. And suddenly, Mr. McGregor emptied out a sack full of lawn mowings right upon the top of the sleeping Flopsy Bunnies. Benjamin shrank down under his paper bag. The mouse hid in a jam pot. The little rabbits smiled sweetly in their sleep under the shower of grass. They did not awake because the lettuces had been so soporific.

They dreamt that their mother, Flopsy, was tucking them up in a hay bed. Mr. McGregor looked down after emptying his sack. He saw some funny little brown tips of ears sticking up through the lawn mowings. He stared at them for some time. Presently, a fly settled on one of them, and it moved. Mr. McGregor climbed down onto the rubbish heap. One, two, three, four, five, six, little rabbits. Said he as he dropped them into his sack. The Flopsy Bunnies dreamt that their mother was turning them over in bed. They stirred a little in their sleep, but still they did not wake up. Mr. McGregor tied up the sack and left it on the wall. He went to put away the mowing machine. While he was gone, Mrs. Flopsy Bunny, who had remained at home, came across the field.

She looked suspiciously at the sack and wondered where everybody was. Then the mouse came out of her jam pot, and Benjamin took the paper bag off his head, and they told the doleful tale. Benjamin and Flopsy were in despair. They could not undo the string. But Mrs. Tidal Mouse was a resourceful person. She nibbled a hole in the bottom corner of the sack. The little rabbits were pulled out and pinched to wake them. Their parents stuffed the empty sack with three rotten vegetable morrows. An old blacking brush and two decayed turnips. Then, they all hid under a bush and watched for Mr. McGregor. Mr. McGregor came back and picked up the sack and carried it off. He carried it hanging down, as if it were rather heavy.

The Flopsy Bunnies followed at a safe distance. They watched him go into his house. And then, they crept up to the window to listen. Mr. McGregor threw down the sack on the stone floor in a way that would have been extremely painful to the Flopsy Bunnies if they had happened to have been inside it. They could hear him drag his chair on the flags and chuckle. One, two, three, four, five, six little rabbits, said Mr. McGregor. Eh, what's that? What have they been spoiling now? inquired Mrs. McGregor. One, two, three, four, five, six little fat rabbits, repeated Mr. McGregor, counting on his fingers. One, two, three. Don't you be silly. What do you mean, you silly old man? In the sack. One, two, three, four, five, six, replied Mr.

McGregor. The youngest Flopsy Bunny got upon the windowsill. Mrs. McGregor took hold Of the sack and felt it. She said she could feel six, but they must be old rabbits, because they were so hard and all different shapes. Not fit to eat, but the skins will do fine to line my old cloak. Line your old cloak, shouted Mr. McGregor. I shall sell them and buy myself Bakasy. Rabbit tobacco. I shall skin them and cut off their heads. Mrs. McGregor untied the sack and put her hand inside. When she felt the vegetables, she became very, very angry. She said that Mr. McGregor had done it a purpose, and Mr. McGregor was very angry, too. One of the rotten Marrows came flying through the kitchen window and hit the youngest Flopsy Bunny.

It was rather hurt. Then, Benjamin and Flopsy thought that it was time to go home. So Mr. McGregor did not get his tobacco, and Mrs. McGregor did not get her rabbit skins. But next Christmas, Tomasina Tidal Mouse got a present of enough rabbit wool to make herself a cloak and a hood, and a handsome muff, and a pair of warm mittens.

9 09 - The Tale of Ginger and Pickles 7:46

The Tale of Ginger and Pickles by Beatrix Potter.

Once upon a time, there was a village shop. The name over the window was Ginger and Pickles. It was a little small shop, just the right size for dolls. Lucinda and Jane Doll Cook always bought their groceries at Ginger and Pickles. The counter inside was a convenient height for rabbits. Ginger and Pickles sold red spotty pocket handkerchiefs at a penny three farthings. They also sold sugar and snuff and gaulishes. In fact, although it was such a small shop, it sold nearly everything, except a few things that you want in a hurry, like bootlaces, hairpins, and mutton chops. Ginger and Pickles were the people who kept the shop. Ginger was a yellow tomcat, and Pickles was a terrier. The rabbits were always a little bit afraid of Pickles.

The shop was also patronized by mice. Only the mice were rather afraid of Ginger. Ginger usually requested Pickles to serve them, because he said it made his mouth water. "'I cannot bear,' said he, to see them going out at the door carrying their little parcels. "'I have the same feeling about rats,' replied Pickles. It would never do to eat our own customers. They would leave us and go to Tabitha Twitchit's. On the contrary, they would go nowhere, replied Ginger gloomily. Tabitha Twitchit kept the only other shop in the village. She did not give credit. Ginger and Pickles gave unlimited credit. Now, the meaning of credit is this. When a customer buys a bar of soap, instead of the customer pulling out a purse and paying for it, She says she will pay another time.

And Pickles makes a low bow and says, with pleasure, madam. And it is written down in a book. The customers come again and again and buy quantities in spite of being afraid of ginger and pickles. But there is no money in what is called the till. The customers came in crowds every day and bought quantities, especially the toffee customers. But there was always no money. They never paid for as much as a penny worth of peppermints, but the cells were enormous, ten times as large as Tabitha Twitchit's. As there was always no money, Ginger and Pickles were obliged to eat their own goods. Pickles ate biscuits, and Ginger ate a dried haddock. They ate them by candlelight after the shop was closed. When it came to Jan first, There was still no money, and Pickles was unable to buy a dog license.

"'It is very unpleasant. I am afraid of the police,' said Pickles. "'It is your own fault for being a terrier. I do not require a license, and neither does Kep the Cooley Dog. It is very uncomfortable. I am afraid I shall be summoned. I have tried in vain to get a license, upon credit, at the post office,' said Pickles. The place is full of policemen. I met one as I was coming home. Let us send in the bill again to Samuel Whiskers. Ginger, he owes $22.9 for bacon. I do not believe that he intends to pay at all, replied Ginger. And I feel sure that Anna Maria pockets things. Where are all the cream crackers? You have eaten them yourself, replied Ginger. Ginger and Pickles retired into the back parlor.

They did accounts. They added up sums and sums and sums. Samuel Whiskers has run up a bill as long as his tail. He has had an ounce and three-quarters of snuff since October. What is seven pounds of butter at one-third and a stick of sealing wax and four matches? Send in all the bills again to everybody with comps, replied Ginger. After a time, they heard a noise in the shop. As if something had been pushed in at the door. They came out of the back parlor. There was an envelope lying on the counter and a policeman writing in a notebook. Pickles nearly had a fit. He barked and he barked and made little rushes. Bite him, Pickles. Bite him, florted Ginger behind a sugar barrel. He's only a German doll.

The policeman went on writing in his notebook. Twice he put his pencil in his mouth. And once he dipped it in the treasole. Pickles barked till he was hoarse, but still the policeman took no notice. He had bead eyes, and his helmet was sewed on with stitches. At length, on his last little rush, Pickles found that the shop was empty. The policeman had disappeared, but the envelope remained. Do you think that he has gone to fetch a real live policeman? I am afraid it is a summons, said Pickles. No, replied Ginger, who had opened the envelope. It is the rates and taxes. Three pounds, nineteen eleven to three quarters. This is the last straw, said Pickles. Let us close the shop. They put up the shutters and left, but they have not removed from the neighborhood.

In fact, some people wish they had gone further. Ginger is living in the Warren. I do not know what occupation he pursues. He looks stout and comfortable. Pickles is at present a gamekeeper. The closing of the shop caused great inconvenience. Tabitha Twitchit immediately raised the price of everything, a half penny, and she continued to refuse to give credit. Of course, there are the tradesmen's carts, the butcher, the fishman, and Timothy Baker. But a person cannot live on seed wigs and sponge cake and butter buns, not even when the sponge cake is as good as Timothy's. After a time, Mr. John Dormouse and his daughter began to sell peppermints and candles, but they did not keep self-fitting sixes, and it takes five mice to carry one seven-inch candle.

Besides, the candles, which they sell, behave very strangely in warm Weather, and Miss Dormouse refused to take back the ends when they were brought back to her with complaints. And when Mr. John Dormouse was complained to, he stayed in bed and would say nothing but very snug, which is not the way to carry on a retail business. So everybody was pleased when Sally Henny Penny sent out A printed poster to say that she was going to reopen the shop. Henny's opening sale. Grand cooperative jumble. Penny's penny prices. Come buy. Come try. Come buy. The poster really was most ticing. There was a rush upon the opening day. The shop was crammed with customers, and there were crowds of mice upon the biscuit canisters.

Sally Henny Penny gets rather flustered when she tries to count out change, and she insists on being paid cash. But she is quite harmless, and she has laid in a remarkable assortment of bargains. There is something to please everybody. The Tale of Ginger and Pickles by Beatrix Potter

10 10 - The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin 8:15

The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin by Beatrix Potter. This is a tale about a tail, a tail that belonged to a little red squirrel, and his name was Nutkin. He had a brother called Twinkleberry and a great many cousins. They lived in a wood at the edge of a lake. In the middle of the lake there is an island covered with trees and nut bushes, and amongst those trees stands a hollow oak tree, which is the house of an owl who is called Old Brown. One autumn, when the nuts were ripe, and the leaves on the hazel bushes were golden and green, Nutkin and Twinkleberry, and all the other little squirrels came out of the wood and down to the edge of the lake. They made little rafts out of twigs. And they paddled away over the water to Owl Island to gather nuts.

Each squirrel had a little sack and a large oar, and spread out his tail for a sale. They also took with them an offering of three fat mice as a present for Old Brown, and put them down upon his doorstep. Then Twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow and said politely, Old Mr. Brown, will you favor us with permission to gather nuts upon your island? But Nutkin was excessively impertinent in his manners. He bobbed up and down like a little red cherry, singing, Riddle me, riddle me, rot-tot-tote, a little wee man in a red-red coat, a staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat. If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a groat. Now this riddle is as old as the hills. Mr.

Brown paid no attention whatever to Nutkin. He shut his eyes obstinately and went to sleep. The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts and sailed away home in the evening. But next morning they all came back again to Owl Island, and Twinkleberry and the others brought a fine, fat mole and laid it on the stone in front of Old Brown's doorway and said, Mr. Brown, will you favor us with your gracious permission to gather some more nuts? But Nutkin, who had no respect, began to dance up and down, tickling old Mr. Brown with the nettle and singing, Old Mr. B, riddle me re. Hitty-pitty within the wall, Hitty-pitty without the wall. If you touch Hitty-pitty, Hitty-pitty will bite you. Mr. Brown woke up suddenly and carried the mole into his house.

He shut the door in Nutkin's face. Presently, a little thread of blue smoke from a wood fire came up from the top of the tree, and Nutkin peeped through the keyhole and sang, A house full, a hole full, and you cannot gather a bowl full. The squirrels searched for nuts all over the island and filled their little sacks. But Nutkin gathered oak apples, yellow and scarlet, and sat upon a beach stump playing marbles and watching the door of old Mr. Brown. On the third day, the squirrels got up very early and went fishing. They caught seven fat minnows as a present for old Brown. They paddled over the lake. and landed under a crooked chestnut tree on Owl Island. Twinkleberry and six other little squirrels each carried a fat minnow.

But Nutkin, who had no nice manners, brought no present at all. He ran in front, singing. The man in the wilderness said to me, How many strawberries grow in the sea? I answered him as I thought good, as many red herrings as grow in the wood. But old Mr. Brown took no interest in riddles, not even when the answer was provided for him. On the fourth day, the squirrels bought a present of six fat beetles, which were as good as plums in plum pudding for old Brown. Each beetle was wrapped up carefully in a dock leaf, fastened with a pine needle-pin. But Nutkin sang as rudely as ever, Old Mr. B, Riddle Me, Read. Flower of England, fruit of Spain, met together in a shower of rain, put in a bag tied around with a string.

If you'll tell me this riddle, I'll give you a ring, which was ridiculous of Nutkin, because he had not got any ring to give to Old Brown. The other squirrels hunted up and down the nut bushes, but Nutkin gathered Robin's pincushions off a briar bush and stuck them full of pine needle pins. On the fifth day, the squirrels brought a present of wild honey. It was so sweet and sticky that they licked their fingers as they put it down upon the stone. They had stolen it out of a bumblebee's nest on the tippity-top of the hill. But Nutkin skipped up and down, singing, Hum-a-bum, buzz-buzz, hum-a-bum-buzz. As I went over tipple-tyne, I met a flock of bony swine, some yellow-nacked, some yellow-back.

They were the very bony swine. Thatter went over Tipaltine. Old Mr. Brown turned up his eyes in disgust at the impertinence of Nutkin, but he ate up the honey. The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts, but Nutkin sat upon a big flat rock and played nine pins with a crab apple and green fur cones. On the sixth day, which was Saturday, the squirrels came again for the last time. They brought a new-laid egg in a little rush basket as a last parting present for Old Brown. But Nutkin ran in front, laughing and shouting. Humpty Dumpty lies in the beck, with a white counterpane round his neck. Forty doctors and forty rights cannot put Humpty Dumpty to rights. Now Old Mr. Brown took an interest in eggs.

He opened one eye and shut it again, but still, he did not speak. Nutkin became more and more impertinent. Old Mr. B! Old Mr. B! Hickamore, hackamore, on the king's kitchen door. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't drive Hickamore, hackamore, off the king's kitchen door. Nutkin danced up and down like a sunbeam, but still, Old Brown said nothing at all. Nutkin began again. Arthur O. Bower has broken his band. He comes roaring up the land. The King of Scots, with all his power, cannot turn Arthur of the bower. Nutkin made a wearying noise to sound like the wind, and he took a running jump right onto the head of old Brown. Then all at once there was a flutterment and a scufflement, and a loud squeak.

The other squirrels scuttered away into the bushes. When they came back very cautiously, peeping round the tree, there was Old Brown sitting on his doorstep quite still, with his eyes closed as if nothing had happened, but Nutkin was in his waistcoat pocket. This looks like the end of the story, but it isn't. Old Brown carried Nutkin into his house and held him up by the tail, intending to skin him. But Nutkin pulled so very hard that his tail broke in two, and he dashed up the staircase and escaped out of the attic window. And to this day, if you meet Nutkin up a tree and ask him a riddle, he will throw sticks at you and stamp his feet and scold and shout. Cuck, cuck, cuck, cur, cuck. The end.

End of The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin by Beatrix Potter.

11 11 - The Dog and the Wolf 2:24

12 12 - The Old Oak Tree 8:01

The Old Oak Tree by Miss Boncrieff. There was an old oak tree in a gentleman's park. It grew beside a river and stretched out its long, strong arms, covered with thick green ivy, as if welcoming everybody to its shelter. A number of animals took advantage of its invitations. First, at the foot of it, lived Bunny the rabbit with Mrs. Bunny, his wife, and a fine family of sixteen children. There they ran in and out, cocking up their little white tails and popping into their hole as quick as lightning the moment they saw anybody coming. Jerry the squirrel, who lived high up in the tree, used to look down and pity Mr. Bunny very much, for he was so poor, had such a large family, and not a single nut laid by for the winter.

But Bunny knew better. And when he, Mrs. Bunny, and the little gray bunnies were huddled together so warm on a winter's night, he used to listen to the wind and say, poor Jerry, how cold it must be up there. But Jerry could wrap his tail around his neck like a boa and fall sound asleep on the treetop. Below Jerry's house, where the ivy was thickest, lived Cozy Cowell, the owl, with his wise nose and his great yellow staring eyes. He kept a singing school at night, and when all the other birds were sleeping, You might hear Cozy Cowl and the Mrs. Cozy Cowl all singing, To-whit! To-hoo! Then among the ivy was a robin redbreast, a pair of blackbirds, and two lovely tomtits. There was also a noisy family of jackdaws, Mr.

and Mrs. Ray by name, in a hole in the trunk, which they called Heart of Oak Hall. And highest of all lived a quiet old fisherman called Longlegs, the heron. Most peaceably, they all lived together, always polite and neighborly. They sang their best songs, and the squire used to look up and say, Ah, there is no tree so full of music as the old oak. One day, a pair of newcomers came to the old oak tree and began to settle themselves and build their nest. Mr. and Mrs. J, for that was their name, were the most beautiful birds, with crests on their heads and pretty blue feathers on their wings. But their voices were loud and sharp, and they seemed to be always scolding. They were full of curiosity about their neighbors and peeped into everybody's house.

Why do you live down there, Mr. Bunny? said Mrs. J. I'm sure your house must be damp and unhealthy for the children. Then they attacked Cozy Cowell. If you would only keep decent hours and come out at the proper time of day, Mr. Cozy Cowell, it would do you a world of good. And Cozy, with all his wisdom, was so silly as to believe them, and came tumbling out of his hole in the ivy, looking so foolish that the mischievous Jays laughed at him, and pecked at him till he crept into his corner again. As for you, Jerry, said Mrs. J, I don't believe you are a bit comfortable up there. Why don't you marry Miss Hedgehog and set up house decently? And so these two naughty birds made everybody uncomfortable and taught those who had been contented before to despise their own houses and lonely life.

Till at last, instead of sweet songs, there was nothing but complaints and noises, and loudest of all, the sharp, harsh cries of Mr. and Mrs. J were heard from the tree. One day, the squire and his lady with their children came past. What disagreeable noise is that? Oh, I see. It is the Jays in that oak. What pretty birds! Very pretty, my dear, said her husband, but insufferably noisy. We must get rid of them. And before night, a guy went bang, and again bang, and down went Mr. J and Mrs. J with all their fine feathers, and thus was peace restored to the old oak. About this time, Jerry, who was a great favorite with everybody, took to himself a nice little wife, and, in honor of the event, Mr.

and Mrs. Cozy Cowell determined to give a grand tea party. It was difficult to fix upon a good hour, because, if it was during the daylight, Cozy Cowell would be sure to fall asleep, and if it was at night, no one else would be awake. So Mrs. Cozy, like a wise bird as she was, fixed on the twilight hour, when the moon would rise soon and serve them for a lamp. What a nice feast she prepared for them! The best of nuts and acorns for Jerry and his wee wife, beautiful dandelions for the bunny family, pretty speckled trout for longlegs the heron, grubs and grains for the jackdaws, and lovely fat worms for the blackbird and robin redbreast. Well, for Cozy himself, she got the very thing in the world he liked best, a particularly nasty dead mouse.

Altogether, there never was such a merry party in the old oak tree. They said a long time, talking of many things, and at last they began to talk about their great neighbors and the big house hard by. The Squire's gardener is the best of men, said Robin Redbreast. He has been digging up worms for me since six o'clock this morning. But what do you think of the lady herself, said Bunny? I heard her order him to fill the flower beds with carnations, my own favorite food, and the sixteen little bunnies cocked up their long ears at the thought. I know, said the blackbird. The Squire's cherries are the best in the country. I am so much obliged to him." Yes," said the jackdaw, and the people have put up the telegraph wires for us to sit upon.

My friends," said Cozy, you know nothing about it. I fly about by night, and know more than you do. I heard the gardener order to shoot the blackbirds who ate the cherries, set traps for the rabbits, and I heard my lady say she would like to have you, Jerry, my boy, running round the treadmill in her squirrel cage. But as for the telegraph wires, they must have been put up for us to sit upon. At this point, Mrs. Cozy volunteered a song, on which all the birds said goodnight in a desperate hurry. Now, the jackdaws were not pleasant birds to have for neighbors. They were always grubbing and pecking in Heart of Oak Hall, till they made the hole too large to be good for the tree. Then the river that flowed beside it worked away among its roots and loosened it.

So one day the squire, as he came past, said, That tree must be cut down. Bunny, with his long ears, heard this and ran directly to tell Jerry, who agreed with him, that it was a great risk to remain. So did Blackbird and Robin. The water rat recommended a nice, clean lodging to the bunnies. Jerry and his wife betook themselves to the horse chestnut tree, whilst Cozy Cowell and all the little Cozy's just waited till it was dark enough for them to see, and then they too flew away to another shelter. But the jackdaws would not be warned. "'We have lived here always,' said they, "'and we are not going away now. This tree has stood for hundreds of years, and is likely to stand for a hundred more.

You're always so easily frightened, poor bunny. Such a tree was never cut down in this park, and never will be.' But the squire had given his orders, and the next morning the woodman set to work to fell the old oak. The jackdaws then began to think there might be some truth in Jerry's report. But when the woodman went away to breakfast, And all was still again. They believed their own opinion once more, and went out as usual to find a dinner for their young family. Grubs were scarce that day, and it was late before they returned home, as they thought. But they had no home now. The ground was littered with splinters and broken branches. The old oak tree was lying prostrate on the grass, and a few black feathers were floating down the river.

The End of The Old Oak Tree by Miss Moncrief By Cass Beers.

13 13 - The Treasure in the House 5:20

Once upon a time, there was a little princess, and when she was ten years old, they gave her a wonderful birthday party. There were musicians and roses in all the rooms, and strawberry ice cream and cakes with pink icing. Everyone bought gifts. The king, her father, gave the princess a white pony with a long tail and a blue and silver harness. The queen, her mother, gave the princess a little gold tea set for her dolls. There were other beautiful gifts, a ring with a sparkling stone set in it, and a dozen or so new silk dresses and a nightingale in a gold cage. But everyone waited to see what the gift of the princess's fairy godmother would be. She was late coming to the party. One never knew just how she would come, on wings or on a broomstick.

This time she came walking, and dressed in a short red gown and a white apron. Her kind eyes twinkled as she gave her gift to the princess. Such a strange gift as it was, only a tiny black key. This will unlock a little house at the end of the garden, which is my birthday gift to you," the fairy godmother of the princess said. In the little house you will find a treasure. And then, as suddenly as she had come, the fairy godmother was gone, wearing one of her surprise smiles on her lips. Everyone wondered about the house, and some of the guests went to the end of the garden to look at it. All they saw, though, was a tiny thatched cottage. Very neat, but not at all fine. So they turned up their noses and went back to the castle.

A very poor present indeed, they said. The little princess put the key in the silk bag that hung at her side and then forgot all about it. Not until late in the afternoon did she go to the end of the garden. The little house made her curious, because it was so different from the castle. The castle had great coloured windows. But the little house had tiny ones with crimson geraniums on the ledges and plain white curtains. She opened the door and went inside. The castle had many rooms, large and lonely, but the little house had one room, small and very cosy. There was a chimney and a fireplace where a bright little fire sparkled and danced and chuckled to itself. A tea kettle hung over the hob, and it was singing as the water bubbled the merry song the little princess had ever heard.

The table was set for tea. It was a very plain tea, only white bread and butter, and honey and milk, but it made the princess hungry to look at it. In front of the fire stood a straight-backed chair and a little spinning wheel. The princess sat down to her tea. How pleasant the little house was, she thought. And how unusually hungry she was. At tea in the castle, she was often not hungry and asked for food that was not good for her, roasted peacock and almond cakes and plum pudding. But here, in her own little house, she found that nothing was quite so good as bread and butter, and her milk tasted as sweet as the honey. After tea, the princess sat down in the straightest chair, and although she had never in her life touched a spinning wheel before, she began to spin.

Whirr, whirr, the wheel turned and sang as fine white thread grew from the bunch of linen floss. The fire danced and the tea kettle sang, and the spinning wheel whirred merrily. It was so pleasant to have such a nice tea, and to be working in her own little house that the princess began to sing too. She sang like a bird, and she had never known before that she could sing. I heard you singing, and I stopped. The princess turned and she saw a little boy of her own age standing in the room. He had a very pleasant face, but he was dressed in ragged clothes. His shirt was so full of holes that it scarcely covered his back. What are you spinning? he asked. The princess had not known until that moment what she was spinning, but now she understood at once.

I am spinning to make you a new shirt, she said. Oh, thank you, said the little boy as he smiled down at her. The princess looked at him, wondering. She noticed that his eyes looked very like those of her fairy godmother. Then she thought of something else. In the little house you will find a treasure, her fairy godmother had said. She looked all about. There was no gold or anything that she had thought before was a treasure there. Then she listened to her heart that was singing too now. That was it. Her fairy godmother had given her, in her little house, The treasure of a happy heart.

14 14 - Try, Try Again 3:55

Try, Try Again by James Baldwin. Read by D. Light. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org.

Try, Try Again by James Baldwin.

There once was a famous ruler of Tartary whose name was Camerlane. Like Alexander the Great, he wished to become the master of the whole world. So he raised a great army and made war against other countries. He conquered many kings and burned many cities. But at last his army was beaten. His men were scattered. And Tamerlane fled alone from the field of battle. For a long time, he wandered in fear from place to place. His foes were looking for him. He was in despair. He was about to lose all hope. One day, he was lying under a tree, thinking of his misfortunes. He had now been a wanderer for twenty days. He could not hold out much longer. Suddenly, he saw a small object creeping up the trunk of a tree.

He looked more closely and saw that it was an ant. The ant was carrying a grain of wheat as large as itself. As Tamerlane looked, He saw that there was a hole in the tree only a little way above, and that this was the home of the ant. "'You are a brave fellow, Mr. Ant,' he said. "'But you have a heavy load to carry.' Just as he spoke, the ant lost its footing and fell to the ground. But—' It still held on to the grain of wheat. A second time, it tried to carry its load up the rough trunk of the tree. And a second time, it failed. Tamerlan watched the brave little insect. It tried three times, four times, a dozen times, twenty times. But always with the same result. Then it tried the twenty-first time.

Slowly, one little step at a time, it crept up across the rough place where it had slipped and fallen so often. The next minute it ran safely into its home, carrying its precious load. Well, Done," said Tamerlan. You have taught me a lesson. I, too, will try, try again, till I succeed. And this he did. Of what other story does this remind you?

15 15 - The Wind's Fun 2:55

queue_music Chapters 15