Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories - The Young Folks Treasury, Volume 1
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Assistant Editor

Volume One











Partial List of Authors and Editors Represented in The Young Folks Treasury by Selections from Their Writings:

WOODROW WILSON, Twenty-eighth President of the United States. THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Twenty-sixth President of the United States. HENRY VAN DYKE, poet, essayist, and diplomatist. LYMAN ABBOTT, editor of "The Outlook." RUDYARD KIPLING, poet and story-teller. GENERAL SIR R. S. BADEN-POWELL, founder of the Boy Scouts. BECKLES WILLSON, author of "The Romance of Canada." IDA PRENTICE WHITCOMB, author of "Young People's Story of Art." ELLEN VELVIN, writer of animal stories. MARY MACGREGOR, author of "King Arthur's Knights," etc. RALPH HENRY BARBOUR, author of boys' stories. T. GILBERT PEARSON, executive secretary, National Association of Audubon Societies. JOSEPH JACOBS, authority upon folklore. THEODORE WOOD, writer on natural history. ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, writer of stories about natural history and founder of the Woodcraft League. AMY STEEDMAN, writer on biography. EVERETT T. TOMLINSON, author of boys' stories. RALPH D. PAINE, author of boys' stories. A. FREDERICK COLLINS, author of boys' books. DON C. BLISS, educator. BLISS CARMAN, poet and essayist. SIR JAMES MATTHEW BARRIE, novelist. WILLIAM CANTON, story-teller. HERMANN HAGEDORN, poet. ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS, writer of boys' stories. ALFRED G. GARDINER, editor of "The London News." FRANKLIN K. LANE, United States Secretary of the Interior. JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, creator of "Uncle Remus." ERNEST INGERSOLL, naturalist. WILLIAM L. FINLEY, State biologist, Oregon. CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, writer of animal stories. E. NESBIT, novelist and poet. ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, author of "How It Is Done," etc. IRA REMSEN, former president of Johns Hopkins University. GIFFORD PINCHOT, professor of forestry, Yale University. GUSTAVE KOBBE, writer of biographies. JACOB A. RIIS, philanthropist and author. EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER, story-writer and poet. JOHN LANG, writer of children's books. JEANIE LANG, writer of children's books. JOHN H. CLIFFORD, editor and writer. HERBERT T. WADE, editor and writer on physics. CHARLES R. GIBSON, writer on electricity. LILIAN CASK, writer on natural history. BLANCHE MARCHESI, opera singer and teacher. JOHN FINNEMORE, traveler and writer of boys' stories. ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL, inventor of the telephone. JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, poet. CHARLES H. CAFFIN, author of "A Guide to Pictures." JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS. ANDREW F. CURRIER, M.D., popular medical writer. HELEN KELLER, the blind and deaf writer. OLIVER HERFORD, humorist and illustrator.


* * * * *

Books are as much a part of the furnishing of a house as tables and chairs, and in the making of a home they belong, not with the luxuries but with the necessities. A bookless house is not a home; for a home affords food and shelter for the mind as well as for the body. It is as great an offence against a child to starve his mind as to starve his body, and there is as much danger of reducing his vitality and putting him at a disadvantage in his lifework in the one as in the other form of deprivation. There was a time when it was felt that shelter, clothing, food and physical oversight comprised the whole duty of a charitable institution to dependent children; to-day no community would permit such an institution to exist unless it provided school privileges. An acute sense of responsibility toward children is one of the prime characteristics of American society, shown in the vast expenditures for public education in all forms, in the increasing attention paid to light, ventilation, and safety in school buildings, in the opening of play grounds in large cities, in physical supervision of children in schools, and the agitation against the employment of children in factories, and in other and less obvious ways.

Children are helpless to protect themselves and secure what they need for health of body and mind; they are exceedingly impressionable; and the future is always in their hands. The first and most imperative duty of parents is to give their children the best attainable preparation for life, no matter at what sacrifice to themselves. There are hosts of fathers and mothers who recognize this obligation but do not know how to discharge it; who are eager to give their children the most wholesome conditions, but do not know how to secure them; who are especially anxious that their children should start early and start right on that highway of education which is the open road to honorable success. There are many homes in which books would find abundant room if the heads of the families knew what books to buy, or had the means to put into the hands of the growing child the reading matter it needs in the successive periods of its growth.

This condition of eagerness to give the best, and of ignorance of how or where to find the best is the justification for the publication of this set of books. The attempt has been made in a series of twelve volumes to bring together in convenient form the fairy stories, myths, and legends which have fed the children of many generations in the years when the imagination is awakening and craving stimulus and material to work upon;—that age of myth-making which is a prelude to the more scientific uses of the mind and of immense importance in an intensely practical age;—a group of tales of standard quality and an interest and value which have placed them among the permanent possessions of English literature; a careful selection of stories of animal life; a natural history, familiar in style and thoroughly trustworthy in fact; an account of those travels and adventures which have opened up the earth and made its resources available, and which constitute one of the most heroic chapters in the history of the long struggle of men to possess the earth and make it a home for the highest kind of civilization; a record of heroism taken from the annals of the patriots and of those brave men who, in all ages, ranks of society and occupations, have dared to face great dangers in the path of duty and science, with special attention to that everyday heroism in which the age is specially rich and of which so many good people are grossly ignorant; a survey of scientific achievement, with reports of recent discoveries in knowledge and adaptation of knowledge to human need; a group of biographies of the men and women—mostly Americans—who are the most stimulating companions for boys and girls; a volume on the Fine Arts dealing with music, painting, sculpture, architecture, in a way to instruct young readers and making accessible a large number of those songs which appeal in the best way to children in schools and homes; a collection of the best poetry for the youngest and oldest readers, chosen not only for excellence from the standpoint of art, but deep and abiding human interest; and a volume devoted to the occupations and resources of the home, addressed to parents no less than to children, with practical suggestions about books and reading, games and amusements, exercise and health, and those kindred topics which have to do with making the home wholesome and attractive.

These twelve volumes aim, in brief, to make the home the most inspiring school and the most attractive place for pleasure, and to bring the best the world has to offer of adventure, heroism, achievement and beauty within its four walls.

Special attention has been given to the youngest children whose interests are often neglected because they are thought to be too immature to receive serious impressions from what is read to them. Psychology is beginning to make us understand that no greater mistake can be made in the education of children than underrating the importance of the years when the soil receives the seed most quickly. For education of the deepest sort—the planting of those formative ideas which give final direction and quality to the intellectual life—there is no period so important as the years between three and six, and none so fruitful. To put in the seed at that time is, as a rule, to decide the kind of harvest the child will reap later; whether he shall be a shrewd, keen, clever, ambitious man, with a hard, mechanical mind, bent on getting the best of the world; or a generous, fruitful, open-minded man, intent on living the fullest life in mind and heart. No apology is offered for giving large space to myths, legends, fairy stories, tales of all sorts, and to poetry; for in these expressions of the creative mind is to be found the material on which the imagination has fed in every age and which is, for the most part, conspicuously absent from our educational programmes.

America has at present greater facility in producing "smart" men than in producing able men; the alert, quick-witted, money-maker abounds, but the men who live with ideas, who care for the principles of things, and who make life rich in resource and interest are comparatively few. America needs poetry more than it needs industrial training; though the two ought never to be separated. The time to awaken the imagination, which is the creative faculty, is early childhood; and the most accessible material for this education is the literature which the race created in its childhood. The creative man, whether in the arts or in practical affairs, in poetry, in engineering or in business, is always the man of imagination.

In this library for young people the attempt has been made not only to give the child what it needs but in the form which is most easily understood. For this reason some well-known stories have been retold in simpler English than their classic forms present. This is especially true of many tales for any young children reprinted by special arrangement from recent English sources. In some cases, where the substance has seemed of more importance to the child than the form, simpler words and forms of expression have been substituted for more complex or abstract phrases, and passages of minor importance have been condensed or omitted.

The aim in making the selections in this set of books has been to interest the child and give it what it needs for normal growth; the material has been taken from many sources old and new; much of the reading matter presented has been familiar in one form or another, to generations of children; much has appeared for the first time within the last ten years; a considerable part has been prepared especially for the Treasury and a large part has been selected from the best writing in the various fields.

It is the hope of the Editor that this "Treasury" or "Library" will justify its title by its real and fundamental service to children and parents alike.



Since this series of books is intended for all young people from one to one hundred, it opens with about eighty of the old MOTHER GOOSE RHYMES. Nothing better was ever invented to tell to little folks who are young enough for lullabies. Their rhythm, their humor, and their pith will always cause us to prize them as the Babies' Classics.

Next come a score of the most famous NURSERY TALES, the kind that children cry for and love to hear fifty times over. And since, just as soon as little folks like stories they love to hear them in rhyme, here are forty CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS.

What would young life be without "Puss in Boots" and "Little Red Riding Hood" and "The Sleeping Beauty"? Our TREASURY would indeed be poor without them, so these FAVORITE STORIES come next, yoked with some OLD-FASHIONED POEMS in story-form, as "The Night before Christmas," "The Wonderful World," and "Little Orphant Annie." All who love pets and animals have always liked FABLES, so here are the noted parables of AEsop, and the lesser-known but even more jolly tales from East Indian sources.

The fairy-tale age is supposed to come from four to nine, but the editors are sure it lasts much longer than that. However this may be, the better half of our first volume is given up to FAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES from all over the world.

It ends with TALES FOR TINY TOTS, the kind that mother reads beside the fire at bedtime, some of them old, like the "Little Red Hen" and "Peter Rabbit," and some of them newer, like "The Greedy Brownie" and "The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen."



General Introduction to Young Folks' Treasury vii Introduction xi


Hush-a-bye, Baby, on the Tree-top; Rock-a-bye, Baby thy Cradle is Green; Bye, Baby Bunting; Hush Thee, my Babby; Sleep, Baby, Sleep; This Little Pig Went to Market; etc., etc. 1-31


The Three Bears 32 Cinderella 35 The Three Brothers 41 The Wren and the Bear 42 Chicken-Licken 45 The Fox and the Cat 47 The Rats and their Son-in-Law 48 The Mouse and the Sausage 50 Johnny and the Golden Goose 51 Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse 56 Teeny Tiny 58 The Spider and the Flea 60 The Little Shepherd Boy 61 The Three Spinners 62 The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership 65 The Sweet Soup 68 The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean 68 Why the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail 70 The Three Little Pigs 71


The Three Children 75 The Owl and the Pussy-Cat—Edward Lear 75 Kindness to Animals 77 How Doth the Little Busy Bee—Isaac Watts 77 Suppose—Phoebe Cary 78 Twinkle, Twinkle 79 Pretty Cow—Jane Taylor 80 The Three Little Kittens—Eliza Lee Follen 80 The Land of Counterpane—Robert Louis Stevenson 82 There was a Little Girl—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 82 The Boy who never Told a Lie 83 Foreign Children—Robert Louis Stevenson 84 The Unseen Playmate—Robert Louis Stevenson 84 I saw Three Ships 85 A Was an Ant—Edward Lear 86 The Table and the Chair—Edward Lear 91 Precocious Piggy—Thomas Hood 93 A Boy's Song—James Hogg 94 Buttercups and Daisies—Mary Howitt 95 The Violet—Jane Taylor 96 If ever I See—Lydia Maria Child 97 The Little Land—Robert Louis Stevenson 97 A Lobster Quadrille—Lewis Carroll 99 Where Go the Boats—Robert Louis Stevenson 100 The Wind and the Moon—George Macdonald 101 Where are you Going my Pretty Maid 103 The Lost Doll—Charles Kingsley 104 Foreign Lands—Robert Louis Stevenson 104 Bed in Summer—Robert Louis Stevenson 105 Try Again 106 A Good Play—Robert Louis Stevenson 106 Good Night and Good Morning—Richard Monckton Milnes 107 The Wind—Robert Louis Stevenson 108 The Spider and the Fly—Mary Howitt 109 Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite—Isaac Watts 110 Child's Evening Hymn—Sabine Baring-Gould 111


Hansel and Gretel 113 The Fair Catherine and Pif-Paf Poltrie 120 The Wolf and the Fox 122 Descreet Hans 123 Puss in Boots 126 The Elves and the Shoemaker 131 Hans in Luck 133 Master of All Masters 138 Belling the Cat 139 Little Red Riding-Hood 140 The Nail 144 Jack and the Beanstalk 145 How to Tell a True Princess 149 The Sleeping Beauty 150


The Man in the Moon—James Whitcombe Riley 158 Sage Counsel—Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch 160 Limericks—Edward Lear 161 More Limericks—Rudyard Kipling and Anonymous 162 The Dead Doll—Margaret Vandergrift 163 Little Things—Ascribed to Julia A. F. Carney 165 The Golden Rule—Unknown 165 Do the Best You Can—Unknown 165 The Voice of Spring 166 The Lark and the Rook—Unknown 166 Thanksgiving Day—Lydia Maria Child 168 The Magpie's Nest—Unknown 169 The Fairies of Caldon Low—Mary Howitt 169 The Land of Story Books—Robert Louis Stevenson 172 A Visit From St. Nicholas—Clement Clarke Moore 173 Little Orphant Annie—James Whitcombe Riley 175 The Chatterbox—Ann Taylor 177 The Voice of Spring—Felicia Dorothea Hemans 178 The History Lesson—Anonymous 179 Song of Life—Charles Mackay 180 The Good Time Coming—Charles Mackay 181 Windy Nights—Robert Louis Stevenson 183 The Wonderful World—William Brighty Rands 184 Hark! Hark! The Lark—William Shakespeare 185 Jog On, Jog On—William Shakespeare 185 Sweet Story of Old—Jemima Luke 186 My Shadow—Robert Louis Stevenson 186 By Cool Siloam's Shady Rill—Reginald Heber 187 The Wind in a Frolic—William Howitt 188 The Graves of a Household—Felicia Dorothea Hemans 189 We Are Seven—William Wordsworth 190 The Better Land—Felicia Dorothea Hemans 193 The Juvenile Orator—David Everett 194 The Fox and the Crow—Little B. (Taylor?) 195 The Use of Flowers—Mary Howitt 196 Contented John—Jane Taylor 197 The Old Man's Comforts, and How He Gained Them—Robert Southey 198 The Frost—Hannah Flagg Gould 199 The Battle of Blenheim—Robert Southey 200 The Chameleon—James Merrick (from M. de Lamotte) 202 The Blackberry Girl—Unknown 205 Mabel on Midsummer Day—Mary Howitt 207 Llewellyn and his Dog—Willim Robert Spencer 214 The Snowbird's Song—Francis C. Woodworth 217 For A' That and A' That—Robert Burns 218



The Goose that Laid Golden Eggs 220 The Boys and the Frogs 220 The Lion and the Mouse 220 The Fox and the Grapes 221 The Frog and the Ox 221 The Cat, the Monkey, and the Chestnuts 221 The Country Maid and Her Milkpail 222 The Ass in the Lion's Skin 222 The Tortoise and the Hare 223 The Vain Jackdaw 223 The Fox Without a Tail 224 The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 224 The Crow and the Pitcher 225 The Man, his Son, and his Ass 225


Adapted by P. V. Ramaswami Raju

The Camel and the Pig 226 The Man and his Piece of Cloth 227 The Sea, the Fox, and the Wolf 227 The Birds and the Lime 228 The Raven and the Cattle 228 Tinsel and Lightning 229 The Ass and the Watchdog 229 The Lark and its Young Ones 230 The Two Gems 230



The Hardy Tin Soldier—Hans Christian Andersen 232 The Fir Tree—Hans Christian Andersen 236 The Darning-Needle—Hans Christian Andersen 245 Thumbelina—Hans Christian Andersen 248 The Tinder-Box—Hans Christian Andersen 258 Boots and his Brothers—George Webbe Dasent 268 The Husband who was to Mind the House George Webbe Dasent 273 Buttercup—George Webbe Dasent 275


Seven at One Blow—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 279 One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 286 The Musicians of Bremen—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 293 The Fisherman and his Wife—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 296 Little Snow-White—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 304 The Goose Girl—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 313 The Golden Bird—Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm 318


Beauty and the Beast—Adapted by E. Nesbit 326 The White Cat—The Comtesse d'Aulnoy 335 The Story of Pretty Goldilocks 341 Toads and Diamonds 346


The History of Tom-Thumb—Adapted by Ernest Rhys 349 Jack the Giant Killer—Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 356 The Three Sillies—Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 366


King O'Toole and his Goose—Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 370 The Haughty Princess—Adapted by Patrick Kennedy 373 Jack and his Master—Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 376 Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 383 Connla of the Golden Hair and the Fairy Maiden Adapted by Patrick Weston Joyce 389


Pinocchio's Adventures in Wonderland—Carlo Lorenzini 394


The Story of the Man who did not wish to Die Adapted by Yei Theodora Ozaki 420 The Accomplished and Lucky Teakettle Adapted by A. B. Mitford 427 The Tongue-cut Sparrow 428 Battle of the Monkey and the Crab 429 Momotaro, or Little Peachling 431 Uraschina Taro and the Turtle 432


The Son of Seven Queens—Adapted by Joseph Jacobs 436 Who Killed the Otter's Babies—Adapted by Walter Skeat 444 The Alligator and the Jackal—Adapted by M. Frere 446 The Farmer and the Money Lender 450 Tit for Tat—Adapted by M. Frere 452 Singh Rajah and the Cunning Little Jackals Adapted by M. Frere 454


The White Stone Canoe—Adapted by H. R. Schoolcraft 456 The Maiden who Loved a Fish 459 The Star Wife 462


The Story of Caliph Stork 468 Persevere and Prosper—Adapted by A. R. Montalba 473


The Most Frugal of Men 476 The Moon-Cake 477 The Ladle that Fell from the Moon 478 The Young Head of the Family 480 A Dreadful Boar 484


King Kojata 487 The Story of King Frost 492


Tell Us a Tale—Edward Shirley 496 Little Red Hen 497 In Search of a Baby—F. Tapsell 498 Jock and I and the Others 500 Dolly Dimple—F. Tapsell 502 The Tale of Peter Rabbit—Beatrix Potter 503 The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass 506 The Visit to Santa Claus Land 507 The Greedy Brownie 511 The Fairies' Passage—James Clarence Mangan 513 The World 515


White Magic 516 The Brownies—Juliana Horatia Ewing 517 The Story of Peter Pan 522 Sir Lark and King Sun—George MacDonald 525 The Imps in the Heavenly Meadow—Kate E. Bunce 526 The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen—Hapgood Moore 531


Thumbelina Came to Live with the Field-Mouse (color) Frontispiece Simple Simon Went a-Fishing Facing Page 6 There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe 8 Little Miss Muffet 8 Old Mother Hubbard 18 The Death of Cock-Robin 26 "Who Has Been Tasting My Soup?" 34 It Was Her Fairy Godmother! 38 I Was the Giant Great and Still, that Sits Upon the Pillow Hill 82 I Found My Poor Little Doll 104 A Fair Little Girl Sat Under a Tree 108 Hansel and Gretel 118 Do Not Grieve, Dear Master 126 Little Red Riding-Hood 140 Red Riding-Hood and the Wolf 142 Prince Florimond Finds the Sleeping Beauty 150 The Tortoise and the Hare 222 The Fox without a Tail 222 A Voice Said Aloud, "The Tin Soldier!" 234 Two-Eyes, the Goat, and the 'Magic Table 286 Little Snow-White and the Peddler-Woman 306 The Prince Starts Homeward with His Treasure 322 The Castle of the White Cat 336 She Was Happy All Day Long in Fairyland 340 This is the Valiant Cornishman Who Slew the Giant Cormoran 358 Connla and the Fairy Maiden 390 A Pheasant Also Came Flying and Said: "Give Me a Dumpling" 434

(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special permission of E. P. Dutton & Company, owners of the American rights.)




* * * * *


Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock; When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.

* * * * *

Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green; Father's a nobleman, mother's a Queen; Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring; And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the King.

* * * * *

Bye, baby bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting, To get a little rabbit-skin, To wrap his baby bunting in.

* * * * *

Hush thee, my babby, Lie still with thy daddy, Thy mammy has gone to the mill, To grind thee some wheat To make thee some meat, And so, my dear babby, lie still.

* * * * *

Sleep, baby, sleep! Thy father watches the sheep; Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree, And down falls a little dream on thee: Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep. The large stars are the sheep, The wee stars are the lambs, I guess, The fair moon is the shepherdess: Sleep, baby, sleep!

* * * * *

This little pig went to market; This little pig stayed at home; This little pig had roast beef; This little pig had none; This little pig said, "Wee, wee! I can't find my way home."

* * * * *

Brow bender, Eye peeper, Nose smeller, Mouth eater, Chin chopper. Knock at the door—peep in Lift up the latch—walk in

Eye winker, Tom Tinker, Nose smeller, Mouth eater, Chin chopper. Chin chopper.

* * * * *

Here sits the Lord Mayor, Here sit his two men, Here sits the cock, And here sits the hen; Here sit the chickens, And here they go in, Chippety, chippety, chippety chin.

* * * * *

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man! So I do, master, as fast as I can: Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T, Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.

* * * * *

Pat it, kiss it, Stroke it, bless it; Three days' sunshine, three days' rain, Little hand all well again.

* * * * *

Baa, baa, black sheep, Have you any wool? Yes, marry, have I, Three bags full:

One for my master, One for my dame, And one for the little boy Who lives in the lane.

* * * * *

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, Where have you been? I've been to London To look at the Queen

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat, What did you there? I frightened a little mouse Under her chair.

* * * * *

Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, To see an old lady upon a white horse, Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes.

* * * * *

Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea, Silver buckles on his knee; He'll come back and marry me, Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

Bobby Shaftoe's fat and fair, Combing down his yellow hair; He's my love for evermair, Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.

* * * * *

Tom, he was a piper's son, He learned to play when he was young, And all the tune that he could play Was, "Over the hills and far away," Over the hills, and a great way off, The wind will blow my top-knot off.

Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise That he well pleased both the girls and boys, And they always stopped to hear him play "Over the hills and far away."

* * * * *

Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home, Thy house is on fire, thy children all gone: All but one whose name is Ann, And she crept under the pudding-pan.

* * * * *

The north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will the robin do then, Poor thing?

He'll sit in a barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing!

* * * * *

I had a little pony, His name was Dapple-gray, I lent him to a lady, To ride a mile away; She whipped him, she lashed him, She rode him through the mire; I would not lend my pony now For all the lady's hire.

* * * * *

I had a little doggy that used to sit and beg; But Doggy tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg. Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, and try to make you well, And you shall have a collar with a little silver bell.

* * * * *

Simple Simon met a pieman, Going to the fair; Says Simple Simon to the pieman, "Let me taste your ware."

Says the pieman to Simple Simon, "Show me first your penny." Says Simple Simon to the pieman, "Indeed I have not any."

Simple Simon went a-fishing For to catch a whale; But all the water he could find Was in his mother's pail!

* * * * *

Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water; Jack fell down, and broke his crown And Jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got and home did trot As fast as he could caper; Went to bed to mend his head With vinegar and brown paper.

Jill came in and she did grin, To see his paper plaster, Mother, vexed, did whip her next, For causing Jack's disaster.

* * * * *

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn, Where's the boy that looks after the sheep? He's under the haycock, fast asleep.

* * * * *

Old Mother Goose, when She wanted to wander, Would ride through the air On a very fine gander.

Mother Goose had a house, 'T was built in a wood, Where an owl at the door For sentinel stood.

She had a son Jack, A plain-looking lad; He was not very good, Nor yet very bad.

She sent him to market, A live goose he bought: "Here! mother," says he, "It will not go for nought."

Jack's goose and her gander Grew very fond; They'd both eat together, Or swim in one pond.

Jack found one morning, As I have been told, His goose had laid him An egg of pure gold.

Jack rode to his mother, The news for to tell. She called him a good boy, And said it was well.

* * * * *

Goosey, goosey, gander, Where shall I wander? Upstairs, downstairs, And in my lady's chamber. There I met an old man Who would not say his prayers; I took him by the left leg, And threw him downstairs.

* * * * *

I'll tell you a story About Mary Morey, And now my story's begun, I'll tell you another About her brother, And now my story's done.

* * * * *

Three wise men of Gotham, Went to sea in a bowl; If the bowl had been stronger, My song had been longer.

* * * * *

There was a crooked man, And he went a crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence Upon a crooked stile: He bought a crooked cat, That caught a crooked mouse— And they all lived together In a little crooked house.

* * * * *

There was a man in our town, And he was wondrous wise, He jumped into a bramble bush, And scratched out both his eyes; But when he saw his eyes were out, With all his might and main, He jumped into another bush, And scratched 'em in again.

* * * * *

Hey! diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed To see such sport, While the dish ran away with the spoon.

* * * * *

Hickory, dickory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock; The clock struck one, The mouse ran down, Hickory, dickory, dock.

* * * * *

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children she didn't know what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread, She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

* * * * *

Little Miss Muffet Sat on a tuffet, Eating her curds and whey; There came a great spider, And sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.

* * * * *

If all the seas were one sea, What a great sea that would be! And if all the trees were one tree, What a great tree that would be! And if all the axes were one axe, What a great axe that would be! And if all the men were one man, What a great man he would be! And if the great man took the great axe, And cut down the great tree, And let it fall into the great sea, What a splish splash that would be!

* * * * *

There was an old man, And he had a calf, And that's half;

He took him out of the stall, And tied him to the wall, And that's all.

* * * * *

The man in the wilderness asked me, How many strawberries grew in the sea? I answered him as I thought good, As many as red herrings grew in the wood

* * * * *

If all the world were apple-pie, And all the sea were ink, And all the trees were bread and cheese, What should we have for drink?

* * * * *

I saw a ship a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea; And it was full of pretty things For baby and for me.

There were sweetmeats in the cabin, And apples in the hold; The sails were made of silk, And the masts were made of gold.

The four-and-twenty sailors That stood between the decks, Were four-and-twenty white mice. With chains about their necks.

The captain was a duck, With a packet on his back; And when the ship began to move, The captain cried, "Quack, quack!"

* * * * *

My dear, do you know, How a long time ago, Two poor little children, Whose names I don't know, Were stolen away on a fine summer's day, And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.

And when it was night, So sad was their plight! The sun it went down, And the moon gave no light! They sobbed and they sighed, and they bitterly cried And the poor little things, they lay down and died.

And when they were dead, The robins so red, Brought strawberry-leaves And over them spread; And all the day long, They sung them this song: "Poor babes in the wood! Poor babes in the wood! Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?"

* * * * *

The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts All on a summer's day; The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts, And took them clean away.

The King of Hearts called for the tarts, And beat the Knave full sore; The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts, And vowed he'd steal no more.

* * * * *

I had a little husband, No bigger than my thumb; I put him in a pint-pot, And there I bade him drum.

I bought a little horse, That galloped up and down; I bridled him, and saddled And sent him out of town.

I gave him little garters, To garter up his hose, And a little handkerchief, To wipe his little nose.

* * * * *

Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four-and-twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie;

When the pie was opened The birds began to sing; Was not that a dainty dish To set before the King?

The King was in his counting-house, Counting out his money; The Queen was in the parlor, Eating bread and honey;

The maid was in the garden Hanging out the clothes; When up came a blackbird, And nipped off her nose.

* * * * *

Little Bo-peep, she lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them; Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.

Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamed she heard them bleating; When she awoke she found it a joke, For they still were all fleeting.

Then up she took her little crook, Determined for to find them; She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed, For they'd left their tails behind them!

It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray, Unto a meadow hard by— There she espied their tails side by side, All hung on a tree to dry.

She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye, And over the hillocks she raced; And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should, That each tail should be properly placed.

* * * * *

What are little boys made of, made of? What are little boys made of? Snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails; And that's what little boys are made of, made of.

What are little girls made of, made of? What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice, and all that's nice; And that's what little girls are made of, made of.

* * * * *

A farmer went trotting Upon his gray mare; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! With his daughter behind him, So rosy and fair; Lumpety, lumpety, lump!

A raven cried "Croak"; And they all tumbled down; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! The mare broke her knees, And the farmer his crown; Lumpety, lumpety, lump.

The mischievous raven Flew laughing away; Bumpety, bumpety, bump! And vowed he would serve them The same the next day; Bumpety, bumpety, bump!

* * * * *

This is the way the ladies ride— Saddle-a-side, saddle-a-side!

This is the way the gentlemen ride— Sitting astride, sitting astride!

This is the way the grandmothers ride— Bundled and tied, bundled and tied!

This is the way the babykins ride— Snuggled inside, snuggled inside!

* * * * *


What does little birdie say, In her nest at peep of day? "Let me fly," says little birdie, "Mother, let me fly away."

Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away.

What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day? Baby says, like little birdie, "Let me rise and fly away."

Baby, sleep a little longer, Till the little limbs are stronger. If she sleeps a little longer, Baby, too, shall fly away.


* * * * *


Little baby, lay your head On your pretty cradle-bed; Shut your eye-peeps, now the day And the light are gone away; All the clothes are tucked in tight; Little baby dear, good night.

Yes, my darling, well I know How the bitter wind doth blow; And the winter's snow and rain Patter on the window-pane: But they cannot come in here, To my little baby dear;

For the window shutteth fast, Till the stormy night is past; And the curtains warm are spread Round about her cradle-bed: So till morning shineth bright, Little baby dear, good night.


* * * * *


Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me: While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.


* * * * *


Which is the way to Baby-Land? Any one can tell; Up one flight, To your right; Please to ring the bell.

What can you see in Baby-Land? Little folks in white, Downy heads, Cradle-beds, Faces pure and bright.

What do they do in Baby-Land? Dream and wake and play, Laugh and crow, Shout and grow, Jolly times have they.

What do they say in Baby-Land? Why, the oddest things; Might as well Try to tell What a birdie sings.

Who is the Queen of Baby-Land? Mother kind and sweet; And her love, Born above, Guides the little feet.


* * * * *

Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, To get her poor dog a bone. When she got there, the cupboard was bare, And so the poor dog had none.

She went to the baker's to buy him some bread, But when she came back the poor dog was dead.

She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin, And when she came back the dog was laughing.

She went to the draper's to buy him some linen, And when she came back the good dog was spinning.

She went to the hosier's to buy him some hose, And when she came back he was dressed in his clothes.

The dame made a curtsy, the dog made a bow, The dame said "your servant," the dog said "Bow-wow."

She went to the hatter's to buy him a hat, And when she came back he was feeding the cat.

She went to the tailor's to buy him a coat, And when she came back he was riding the goat.

She went to the barber's to buy him a wig, And when she came back he was dancing a jig.

She went to the butcher's to get him some tripe, And when she came back he was smoking a pipe.

She went to the fish-shop to buy him some fish, And when she came back he was washing the dish.

She went to the tavern for white wine and red, And when she came back the dog stood on his head.

* * * * *

As I was going to St. Ives I met a man with seven wives; Every wife had seven sacks, Every sack had seven cats, Every cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were going to St. Ives?

* * * * *


Brown eyes, straight nose; Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.

Torn books, spoilt toys: Arch looks, unlike a boy's;

Little rages, obvious arts; (Three her age is), cakes, tarts;

Falling down off chairs; Breaking crown down stairs;

Catching flies on the pane; Deep sighs—cause not plain;

Bribing you with kisses For a few farthing blisses.

Wide-a-wake; as you hear, "Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!"

New shoes, new frock; Vague views of what's o'clock

When it's time to go to bed, And scorn sublime for what is said

Folded hands, saying prayers, Understands not nor cares—

Thinks it odd, smiles away; Yet may God hear her pray!

Bed gown white, kiss Dolly; Good night!—that's Polly,

Fast asleep, as you see, Heaven keep my girl for me!


* * * * *


Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber; Holy angels guard thy bed; Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide; All without thy care, or payment, All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou'rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven He descended, And became a child like thee!

Soft and easy is thy cradle; Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When His birthplace was a stable, And His softest bed was hay.

See the kindly shepherds round him, Telling wonders from the sky! When they sought Him, there they found Him, With his Virgin-Mother by.

See the lovely babe a-dressing; Lovely infant, how He smiled! When He wept, the mother's blessing Soothed and hushed the holy child.

Lo, He slumbers in His manger, Where the honest oxen fed; —Peace, my darling! here's no danger! Here's no ox a-near thy bed!

Mayst thou live to know and fear Him, Trust and love Him all thy days; Then go dwell forever near Him, See His face, and sing His praise!

I could give thee thousand kisses, Hoping what I most desire; Not a mother's fondest wishes Can to greater joys aspire.


* * * * *


I like little Pussy, Her coat is so warm; And if I don't hurt her She'll do me no harm. So I'll not pull her tail, Nor drive her away, But Pussy and I Very gently will play; She shall sit by my side, And I'll give her some food; And she'll love me because I am gentle and good.

I'll pat little Pussy, And then she will purr, And thus show her thanks For my kindness to her; I'll not pinch her ears, Nor tread on her paw, Lest I should provoke her To use her sharp claw; I never will vex her, Nor make her displeased, For Pussy can't bear To be worried or teased.


* * * * *


Baby mustn't frown, When she tumbles down; If the wind should change—Ah me, What a face her face would be!

Rub away the dirt, Say she wasn't hurt; What a world 'twould be—O my, If all who fell began to cry!


* * * * *

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree, Up went pussy-cat, and down went he; Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran; Said little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can."

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall, Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall; Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say? Pussy-cat said naught but "Mew," and Robin flew away.

* * * * *


Sleep, sleep, my treasure, The long day's pleasure Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep; The garden still is Alight with lilies, But all the daisies are fast asleep.

Sleep, sleep, my darling, Dawn wakes the starling, The sparrow stirs when he sees day break; But all the meadow Is wrapped in shadow, And you must sleep till the daisies wake!


* * * * *


Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens from the tower which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.

Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.


* * * * *


I had a little bird, I took it from the nest; I prest it and blest it, And nurst it in my breast.

I set it on the ground, Danced round and round, And sang about it so cheerly, With "Hey, my little bird, And ho! my little bird, And oh! but I love thee dearly!"

I make a little feast Of food soft and sweet, I hold it in my breast, And coax it to eat;

I pit, and I pat, I call this and that, And I sing about so cheerly, With "Hey, my little bird, And ho! my little bird, And oh! but I love thee dearly!"


* * * * *


Who killed Cock Robin? "I," said the Sparrow, "With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin."

Who saw him die? "I," said the Fly, "With my little eye, I saw him die."

Who caught his blood? "I," said the Fish, "With my little dish, I caught his blood."

Who'll make his shroud? "I," said the Beetle, "With my thread and needle, I'll make his shroud."

Who'll bear the torch? "I," said the Linnet, "I'll come in a minute, I'll bear the torch."

Who'll be the clerk? "I," said the Lark, "I'll say Amen in the dark; I'll be the clerk."

Who'll dig his grave? "I," said the Owl, "With my spade and trowel, I'll dig his grave."

Who'll be the parson? "I," said the Rook, "With my little book, I'll be the parson."

Who'll be chief mourner? "I," said the Dove, "I mourn for my love; I'll be chief mourner."

Who'll sing his dirge? "I," said the Thrush, "As I sing in a bush, I'll sing his dirge."

* * * * *


Do you know how many stars There are shining in the skies? Do you know how many clouds Ev'ry day go floating by? God in heaven has counted all, He would miss one should it fall.

Do you know how many children Go to little beds at night, And without a care or sorrow, Wake up in the morning light? God in heaven each name can tell, Loves you, too, and loves you well.

* * * * *


Where do all the daisies go? I know, I know! Underneath the snow they creep, Nod their little heads and sleep, In the springtime out they peep; That is where they go!

Where do all the birdies go? I know, I know! Far away from winter snow To the fair, warm South they go; There they stay till daisies blow, That is where they go!

Where do all the babies go? I know, I know! In the glancing firelight warm, Safely sheltered from all harm, Soft they lie on mother's arm, That is where they go!


* * * * *

Cock crows in the morn, To tell us to rise, And he who lies late Will never be wise. For early to bed, And early to rise, Is the way to be healthy And wealthy and wise.

* * * * *


This is the house that Jack built.

This is the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the rat That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing his corn, That kept the cock that crowed in the morn, That waked the priest all shaven and shorn, That married the man all tattered and torn, That kissed the maiden all forlorn, That milked the cow with the crumpled horn, That tossed the dog, That worried the cat, That killed the rat, That ate the malt That lay in the house that Jack built.

* * * * *


On yonder hill there stands a tree; Tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the tree there was a branch; Branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the branch there was a nest; Nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And in the nest there was an egg; Egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And in the egg there was a bird; Bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

And on the bird there was a feather; Feather on the bird, bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.

* * * * *


Do you know what's in my pottet? Such a lot of treasures in it! Listen now while I bedin it: Such a lot of sings it holds, And everysin dats in my pottet, And when, and where, and how I dot it. First of all, here's in my pottet A beauty shell, I pit'd it up: And here's the handle of a tup That somebody has broked at tea; The shell's a hole in it, you see: Nobody knows dat I dot it, I teep it safe here in my pottet. And here's my ball too in my pottet, And here's my pennies, one, two, free, That Aunty Mary dave to me, To-morrow day I'll buy a spade, When I'm out walking with the maid; I tant put that in here my pottet! But I can use it when I've dot it. Here's some more sings in my pottet, Here's my lead, and here's my string; And once I had an iron ring, But through a hole it lost one day, And this is what I always say— A hole's the worst sing in a pottet, Be sure and mend it when you've dot it.


* * * * *


* * * * *


Little Goldilocks was a pretty girl who lived once upon a time in a far-off country.

One day she was sitting on the hearthrug playing with her two kittens, and you would have thought she was as happy as a queen, and quite contented to stay where she was instead of wanting to run about the world meddling with other people's property. But it happened that she was rather a mischievous little maid, and could not resist teasing her pets, so one of them scratched her, and then she would play with them no longer.

She got up and trotted away into the wood behind her mother's house, and it was such a warm, pleasant day that she wandered on and on until she came into a part of the wood where she had never been before.

Now, in this wood there lived a family of three Bears. The first was a GREAT BIG BEAR, the second was a MIDDLING-SIZED BEAR, and the third was a LITTLE TEENY TINY BEAR, and they all lived together in a funny little house, and very happy they were.

Goldilocks stopped when she came to the Bears' house, and began to wonder who lived there.

"I'll just look in and see," she said, and so she did; but there was no one there, for the Bears had all gone out for a morning walk, whilst the soup they were going to have for dinner cooled upon the table.

Goldilocks was rather hungry after her walk, and the soup smelt so good that she began to wish the people of the house would come home and invite her to have some. But although she looked everywhere, under the table and into the cupboards, she could find no one, and at last she could resist no longer, but made up her mind to take just a little sip to see how the soup tasted. The soup had been put into three bowls—a Great Big Bowl for the Great Big Bear, a Middling-sized Bowl for the Middling-sized Bear, and a Teeny Tiny Bowl for the Teeny Tiny Bear; beside each bowl lay a spoon, and Goldilocks took one and helped herself to a spoonful of soup from the Great Big Bowl.

Ugh! how it burnt her mouth; it was so hot with pepper that she did not like it at all; still, she was very hungry, so she thought she would try again.

This time she took a sip of the Middling-sized Bear's soup, but she liked that no better, for it was too salt. But when she tasted the Teeny Tiny Bear's soup it was just as she liked it; so she ate it up every drop, without thinking twice about it.

When she had finished her dinner she noticed three chairs standing by the wall. One was a Great Big Chair, and she climbed upon that and sat down. Oh, dear! how hard it was! She was sure she could not sit there for long, so she climbed up on the next, which was only a Middling-sized Chair, but that was too soft for her taste; so she went on to the last, which was a Teeny Tiny Chair and suited her exactly.

It was so comfortable that she sat on and on until, if you'll believe it, she actually sat the bottom out. Then, of course, she was comfortable no longer, so she got up and began to wonder what she should do next.

There was a staircase in the Bears' house, and Goldilocks thought she would go up it and see where it led to. So up she went, and when she reached the top she laughed outright, for the Bears' bedroom was the funniest she had ever seen. In the middle of the room stood a Great Big Bed, on one side of it there was a Middling-sized Bed, and on the other side there was a Teeny Tiny Bed.

Goldilocks was sleepy, so she thought she would lie down and have a little nap. First she got upon the Great Big Bed, but it was just as hard as the Great Big Chair had been; so she jumped off and tried the Middling-sized Bed, but it was so soft that she sank right down into the feather cushions and was nearly smothered.

"I will try the Teeny Tiny Bed," she said, and so she did, and it was so comfortable that she soon fell fast asleep.

Whilst she lay there, dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things, the three Bears came home from their walk very hungry and quite ready for their dinners.

But, oh! dear me! how cross the Great Big Bear looked when he saw his spoon had been used and thrown under the table.

"WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MY SOUP?" he cried, in a Great Big Voice.

"AND WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE?" cried the Middling-sized Bear, in a Middling-sized Voice.

"BUT WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE AND TASTED IT ALL UP?" cried the poor little Teeny Tiny Bear in a Teeny Tiny Voice, with the tears running down his Teeny Tiny Face.

When the Great Big Bear went to sit down in his Great Big Chair, he cried out in his Great Big Voice:


And the Middling-sized Bear cried, in a Middling-sized Voice:


But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out in a Teeny Tiny Voice of anger:


By this time the Bears were sure that someone had been in their house quite lately; so they looked about to see if someone were not there still.

There was certainly no one downstairs, so they went up the staircase to their bedroom.

As soon as the Great Big Bear looked at his bed, he cried out, in his Great Big Voice:


And the Middling-sized Bear, seeing that the coverlet was all rumpled, cried out, in a Middling-sized Voice:


But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out, in a Teeny Tiny Voice of astonishment:


Now, when the Great Big Bear began to speak, Goldilocks dreamt that there was a bee buzzing in the room, and when the Middling-sized Bear began to speak, she dreamt that it was flying out of the window; but when the Teeny Tiny Bear began to speak, she dreamt that the bee had come back and stung her on the ear, and up she jumped. Oh! how frightened she was when she saw the three Bears standing beside her.

She hopped out of bed and in a second was out through the open window. Never stopping to wonder if the fall had hurt her, she got up and ran and ran and ran until she could go no farther, always thinking that the Bears were close behind her. And when at length she fell down in a heap on the ground, because she was too tired to run any more, it was her own mother who picked her up, because in her fright she had run straight home without knowing it.

* * * * *


Once upon a time there lived a noble gentleman who had one dear little daughter. Poor child! her own kind mother was dead, and her father, who loved her very dearly, was afraid that his little girl was sometimes lonely. So he married a grand lady who had two daughters of her own, and who, he thought, would be kind and good to his little one. But no sooner did the stepmother enter her new home than she began to show her true character. Her stepdaughter was so much prettier and sweeter than her own children, that she was jealous of her, and gave her all the hard work of the house to do, whilst the two proud sisters spent their time at pleasant parties and entertainments.

The only pleasure the poor child had was to spend her evenings sitting in the chimney-corner, resting her weary limbs, and for this reason her sisters mockingly nicknamed her "Cinderella." The sisters' fine clothes made Cinderella feel very shabby; but, in her little torn frock and ragged shoes, she was a thousand times more lovely than they.

Now, it chanced that the King's son gave a grand ball, to which he invited all the lords and ladies in the country, and, amongst the rest, Cinderella's two sisters were asked. How pleased and excited they were when the invitation arrived! For days they could talk of nothing but the clothes they should wear and the grand folk they hoped to meet.

When at last the great day arrived, Cinderella was kept running about from early till late, decking the sisters, and dressing their hair.

"Don't you wish you were going to the ball?" said one of them.

"Indeed I do," sighed the poor little maid. The sisters burst out laughing. "A pretty spectacle you would be," they said rudely. "Go back to your cinders—they are fit company for rags." Then, stepping carefully into their carriage so that they might not crush their fine clothes, they drove away to the ball.

Cinderella went back to her chimney-corner, and tried not to feel envious, but the tears would gather in the pretty eyes, and trickle down the sorrowful little face.

"What are you crying for, child?" cried a silvery voice.

Cinderella started, and raised her eyes. Who could it be? Then in a moment she knew—it was her fairy Godmother!

"I do so want——" began Cinderella; then her sobs stopped her.

"To go to the ball," finished the Godmother. Cinderella nodded. "Well, leave off crying—be a good girl, and you shall go. Run quickly into the garden, and bring the largest pumpkin you can find."

Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to go to the ball, but her only thought was to obey her Godmother. In a few moments she was back again, with a splendid pumpkin. Her Godmother scooped out the inside—one touch of the wand, and the pumpkin was a golden coach, lined with white satin.

"Now, godchild, quick—the mouse-trap from the pantry!"

"Here it is, Godmother," said Cinderella breathlessly.

One by one six fat sleek mice passed through the trap door. As each appeared, a touch of the wand transformed it into a cream-colored horse, fit for a queen.

"Now, Cinderella, can you find a coachman?"

"There is a large gray rat in the rat-trap—would he do, Godmother?"

"Run and fetch him, child, and then I can judge," So Cinderella ran to fetch the rat, and her Godmother said he was just made for a coachman; and I think you would have agreed with her had you seen him a moment later, with his powdered wig and silk stockings.

Six lizards from behind the pumpkin-frame became six footmen in splendid liveries—you would have thought they had been footmen all their lives. Cinderella was so excited that she could scarcely speak.

"Oh! Godmother," she cried, "it is all so lovely!" Then suddenly she thought of her shabby frock. "There is my white muslin," she said wistfully, "if—do you think——"

But before Cinderella could realize what was happening, her Godmother's wand tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and in place of the shabby frock, there was a gleam of satin, silver, and pearls.

Ah! who can describe a robe made by the fairies? It was white as snow, and as dazzling; round the hem hung a fringe of diamonds, sparkling like dew-drops in the sunshine. The lace about the throat and arms could only have been spun by fairy spiders. Surely it was a dream! Cinderella put her daintily-gloved hand to her throat, and softly touched the pearls that encircled her neck.

"Come, child," said the Godmother, "or you will be late."

As Cinderella moved, the firelight shone upon her dainty shoes.

"They are of diamonds," she said.

"No," answered her Godmother, smiling; "they are better than that—they are of glass, made by the fairies. And now, child, go, and enjoy yourself to your heart's content. Only remember, if you stay at the palace one instant after midnight, your coach and servants will vanish, and you will be the little gray Cinderella once more!"

A few moments later, the coach dashed into the royal courtyard, the door was flung open, and Cinderella alighted. As she walked slowly up the richly-carpeted staircase, there was a murmur of admiration, and the King's son hastened to meet her. "Never," said he to himself, "have I seen anyone so lovely!" He led her into the ball-room, where the King, who was much taken with her sweet face and pretty, modest manners, whispered to the Queen that she must surely be a foreign Princess.

The evening passed away in a dream of delight, Cinderella dancing with no one but the handsome young Prince, and being waited on by his own hands at supper-time. The two sisters could not recognize their ragged little sister in the beautiful and graceful lady to whom the Prince paid so much attention, and felt quite pleased and flattered when she addressed a few words to them.

Presently a clock chimed the three quarters past eleven, and, remembering her Godmother's warning, Cinderella at once took leave of the Prince, and, jumping into her coach, was driven rapidly home. Here she found her Godmother waiting to hear all about the ball. "It was lovely," said Cinderella; "and oh! Godmother, there is to be another to-morrow night, and I should so much like to go to it!"

"Then you shall," replied the kind fairy, and, kissing her godchild tenderly, she vanished. When the sisters returned from the ball, they found a sleepy little maiden sitting in the chimney-corner, waiting for them.

"How late you are!" cried Cinderella, yawning. "Are you not very tired?"

"Not in the least," they answered, and then they told her what a delightful ball it had been, and how the loveliest Princess in the world had been there, and had spoken to them, and admired their pretty dresses.

"Who was she?" asked Cinderella slyly.

"That we cannot say," answered the sisters. "She would not tell her name, though the Prince begged her to do so on bended knee."

"Dear sister," said Cinderella, "I, too, should like to see the beautiful Princess. Will you not lend me your old yellow gown, that I may go to the ball to-morrow with you?"

"What!" cried her sister angrily; "lend one of my dresses to a little cinder-maid? Don't talk nonsense, child!"

The next night, the sisters were more particular than ever about their attire, but at last they were dressed, and as soon as their carriage had driven away, the Godmother appeared. Once more she touched her godchild with her wand, and in a moment she was arrayed in a beautiful dress that seemed as though it had been woven of moon-beams and sunshine, so radiantly did it gleam and shimmer. She put her arms round her Godmother's neck and kissed and thanked her. "Goodbye, childie; enjoy yourself, but whatever you do, remember to leave the ball before the clock strikes twelve," the Godmother said, and Cinderella promised.

But the hours flew by so happily and so swiftly that Cinderella forgot her promise, until she happened to look at a clock and saw that it was on the stroke of twelve. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room, dropping, in her haste, one of the little glass slippers; but, with the sound of the clock strokes in her ears, she dared not wait to pick it up. The Prince hurried after her in alarm, but when he reached the entrance hall, the beautiful Princess had vanished, and there was no one to be seen but a forlorn little beggar-maid creeping away into the darkness.

Poor little Cinderella!—she hurried home through the dark streets, weary, and overwhelmed with shame.

The fire was out when she reached her home, and there was no Godmother waiting to receive her; but she sat down in the chimney-corner to wait her sisters' return. When they came in they could speak of nothing but the wonderful things that had happened at the ball.

The beautiful Princess had been there again, they said, but had disappeared just as the clock struck twelve, and though the Prince had searched everywhere for her, he had been unable to find her. "He was quite beside himself with grief," said the elder sister, "for there is no doubt he hoped to make her his bride."

Cinderella listened in silence to all they had to say, and, slipping her hand into her pocket, felt that the one remaining glass slipper was safe, for it was the only thing of all her grand apparel that remained to her.

On the following morning there was a great noise of trumpets and drums, and a procession passed through the town, at the head of which rode the King's son. Behind him came a herald, bearing a velvet cushion, upon which rested a little glass slipper. The herald blew a blast upon the trumpet, and then read a proclamation saying that the King's son would wed any lady in the land who could fit the slipper upon her foot, if she could produce another to match it.

Of course, the sisters tried to squeeze their feet into the slipper, but it was of no use—they were much too large. Then Cinderella shyly begged that she might try. How the sisters laughed with scorn when the Prince knelt to fit the slipper on the cinder-maid's foot; but what was their surprise when it slipped on with the greatest ease, and the next moment Cinderella produced the other from her pocket. Once more she stood in the slippers, and once more the sisters saw before them the lovely Princess who was to be the Prince's bride. For at the touch of the magic shoes, the little gray frock disappeared for ever, and in place of it she wore the beautiful robe the fairy Godmother had given to her.

The sisters hung their heads with sorrow and vexation; but kind little Cinderella put her arms round their necks, kissed them, and forgave them for all their unkindness, so that they could not help but love her.

The Prince could not bear to part from his little love again, so he carried her back to the palace in his grand coach, and they were married that very day. Cinderella's stepsisters were present at the feast, but in the place of honor sat the fairy Godmother.

So the poor little cinder-maid married the Prince, and in time they came to be King and Queen, and lived happily ever after.

* * * * *


There was once a man who had three sons, but no fortune except the house he lived in. Now, each of them wanted to have the house after his death; but their father was just as fond of one as of the other, and did not know how to treat them all fairly. He did not want to sell the house, because it had belonged to his forefathers, or he might have divided the money between them.

At last an idea came into his head, and he said to his sons: "Go out into the world, and each learn a trade, and when you come home, the one who makes best use of his handicraft shall have the house."

The sons were quite content with this plan, and the eldest decided to be a farrier, the second a barber, and the third a fencing master. They fixed a time when they would all meet at home again, and then they set off.

It so happened that they each found a clever master with whom they learned their business thoroughly. The farrier shod the King's horses, and he thought, "I shall certainly be the one to have the house."

The barber shaved nobody but grand gentlemen, so he thought it would fall to him.

The fencing master got many blows, but he set his teeth, and would not let himself be put out, because he thought, "If I am afraid of a blow, I shall never get the house."

Now, when the given time had passed, they all went home together to their father; but they did not know how to get a good opportunity of showing off their powers, and sat down to discuss the matter.

Suddenly a hare came running over the field.

"Ah!" cried the barber, "she comes just in the nick of time."

He took up his bowl and his soap, and got his lather by the time the hare came quite close, then he soaped her and shaved her as she raced along, without giving her a cut or missing a single hair. His father, astonished, said: "If the others don't look out, the house will be yours."

Before long a gentleman came along in his carriage at full gallop.

"Now, father, you shall see what I can do," said the farrier and he ran after the carriage and tore the four shoes off the horse as he galloped along, then, without stopping a second, shod him with new ones.

"You are a fine fellow, indeed," said his father. "You know your business as well as your brother. I don't know which I shall give the house to at this rate."

Then the third one said: "Let me have a chance, too, father."

As it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword and swirled it round and round his head, so that not a drop fell on him. Even when the rain grew heavier, so heavy that it seemed as if it were being poured from the sky out of buckets, he swung the sword faster and faster, and remained as dry as if he had been under a roof.

His father was amazed, and said: "You have done the best; the house is yours."

Both the other brothers were quite satisfied with this decision, and as they were all so devoted to one another, they lived together in the house, and carried on their trades, by which they made plenty of money, since they were so perfect in them.

They lived happily together to a good old age, and when one fell ill and died, the others grieved so much over him that they pined away and soon after departed this life.

Then, as they had been so fond of one another, they were all buried in one grave.

* * * * *


One summer's day the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest, and the bear heard a bird singing very sweetly, and said: "Brother Wolf, what kind of bird is that which is singing so delightfully?"

"That is the King of the birds, before whom we must do reverence," replied the wolf; but it was only the wren.

"If that be so," said the bear, "I should like to see his royal palace; come, lead me to it." "That cannot be as you like," replied the wolf. "You must wait till the Queen returns." Soon afterward the Queen arrived with some food in her bill, and the King, too, to feed their young ones, and the bear would have gone off to see them, but the wolf, pulling his ear, said: "No, you must wait till the Queen and the King are both off again."

So, after observing well the situation of the nest, the two tramped off, but the bear had no rest, for he wished still to see the royal palace, and after a short delay he set off to it again. He found the King and Queen absent, and, peeping into the nest, he saw five or six young birds lying in it. "Is this the royal palace?" exclaimed the bear; "this miserable place! You are no King's children, but wretched young vagabonds." "No, no, that we are not!" burst out the little wrens together in a great passion, for to them this speech was addressed. "No, no, we are born of honorable parents, and you, Mr. Bear, shall make your words good!" At this speech the bear and the wolf were much frightened, and ran back to their holes; but the little wrens kept up an unceasing, clamor till their parents' return. As soon as they came back with food in their mouths the little birds began, "We will none of us touch a fly's leg, but will starve rather, until you decide whether we are fine and handsome children or not, for the bear has been here and insulted us!"

"Be quiet," replied the King, "and that shall soon be settled." And thereupon he flew with his Queen to the residence of the bear, and called to him from the entrance, "Old grumbler, why have you insulted my children? That shall cost you dear, for we will decide the matter by a pitched battle."

War having thus been declared against the bear, all the four-footed beasts were summoned: the ox, the ass, the cow, the goat, the stag, and every animal on the face of the earth. The wren, on the other hand, summoned every flying thing; not only the birds, great and small, but also the gnat, the hornet, the bee, and the flies.

When the time arrived for the commencement of the war, the wren King sent out spies to see who was appointed commander-in-chief of the enemy. The gnat was the most cunning of all the army, and he, therefore, buzzed away into the forest where the enemy was encamped, and alighted on a leaf of the tree beneath which the watchword was given out. There stood the bear and called the fox to him, and said: "You are the most crafty of animals, so you must be general, and lead us on." "Well," said the fox, "but what sign shall we appoint?" Nobody answered. Then the fox said: "I have a fine long bushy tail, which looks like a red feather at a distance; if I hold this tail straight up, all is going well and you must march after me; but if I suffer it to hang down, run away as fast as you can." As soon as the gnat heard all this she flew home and told the wren King everything to a hair.

When the day arrived for the battle to begin, the four-footed beasts all came running along to the field, shaking the earth with their roaring and bellowing. The wren King also came with his army, whirring and buzzing and humming enough to terrify any one out of his senses. Then the wren King sent the hornet forward to settle upon the fox's tail and sting it with all his power. As soon as the fox felt the first sting he drew up his hind leg with the pain, still carrying, however, his tail as high in the air as before; at the second sting he was obliged to drop it a little bit; but at the third he could no longer bear the pain, but was forced to drop his tail between his legs. As soon as the other beasts saw this, they thought all was lost, and began to run each one to his own hole; so the birds won the battle without difficulty.

When all was over the wren King and his Queen flew home to their children, and cried out: "Rejoice! rejoice! we have won the battle; now eat and drink as much as you please."

The young wrens, however, said: "Still we will not eat till the bear has come to our nest and begged pardon, and admitted that we are fine and handsome children."

So the wren King flew back to the cave of the bear, and called out, "Old grumbler, you must come to the nest and beg pardon of my children for calling them wretched young brats, else your ribs shall be crushed in your body!"

In great terror the bear crept out and begged pardon; and afterward the young wrens, being now made happy in their minds, settled down to eating and drinking, and I am afraid they were over-excited and kept up their merriment far too late.

* * * * *


As Chicken-licken was going one day to the wood, whack! an acorn fell from a tree on to his head.

"Gracious goodness me!" said Chicken-licken, "the sky must have fallen; I must go and tell the King."

So Chicken-licken turned back, and met Hen-len.

"Well, Hen-len, where are you going?" said he.

"I'm going to the wood," said she.

"Oh, Hen-len, don't go!" said he, "for as I was going the sky fell on to my head, and I'm going to tell the King."

So Hen-len turned back with Chicken-licken, and met Cock-lock.

"I'm going to the wood," said he.

Then Hen-len said: "Oh Cock-lock, don't go, for I was going, and I met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Cock-lock turned back, and they met Duck-luck.

"Well, Duck-luck, where are you going?"

And Duck-luck said: "I'm going to the wood."

Then Cock-lock said: "Oh! Duck-luck, don't go, for I was going, and I met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Duck-luck turned back, and met Drake-lake.

"Well, Drake-lake, where are you going?"

And Drake-lake said: "I'm going to the wood."

Then Duck-luck said: "Oh! Drake-lake, don't go, for I was going, and I met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Drake-lake turned back, and met Goose-loose.

"Well, Goose-loose, where are you going?"

And Goose-loose said: "I'm going to the wood."

Then Drake-lake said: "Oh, Goose-loose, don't go, for I was going, and I met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Goose-loose turned back, and met Gander-lander.

"Well, Gander-lander, where are you going?"

And Gander-lander said: "I'm going to the wood."

Then Goose-loose said: "Oh! Gander-lander, don't go, for I was going, and I met Drake-lake, and Drake-lake met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Gander-lander turned back, and met Turkey-lurkey.

"Well, Turkey-lurkey, where are you going?"

And Turkey-lurkey said: "I'm going to the wood."

Then Gander-lander said: "Oh! Turkey-lurkey, don't go, for I was going, and I met Goose-loose, and Goose-loose met Drake-lake, and Drake-lake met Duck-luck, and Duck-luck met Cock-lock, and Cock-lock met Hen-len, and Hen-len met Chicken-licken, and Chicken-licken had been at the wood, and the sky had fallen on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

So Turkey-lurkey turned back, and walked with Gander-lander, Goose-loose, Drake-lake, Duck-luck, Cock-lock, Hen-len, and Chicken-licken.

And as they were going along, they met Fox-lox. And Fox-lox said:

"Where are you going?"

And they said: "Chicken-licken went to the wood, and the sky fell on to his head, and we are going to tell the King."

And Fox-lox said: "Come along with me, and I will show you the way."

But Fox-lox took them into the fox's hole, and he and his young ones soon ate up poor Chicken-licken, Hen-len, Cock-lock, Duck-luck, Drake-lake, Goose-loose, Gander-lander, and Turkey-lurkey; and they never saw the King to tell him that the sky had fallen.

* * * * *


It happened once that the cat met Mr. Fox in the wood, and because she thought he was clever and experienced in all the ways of the world, she addressed him in a friendly manner.

"Good-morning, dear Mr. Fox! how are you, and how do you get along in these hard times?"

The fox, full of pride, looked at the cat from head to foot for some time, hardly knowing whether he would deign to answer or not. At last he said:

"Oh, you poor whisker-wiper, you silly piebald, you starveling mouse-hunter! what has come into your head? How dare you ask me how I am getting on? What sort of education have you had? How many arts are you master of?"

"Only one," said the cat meekly.

"And what might that one be?" asked the fox.

"When the dogs run after me, I can jump into a tree and save myself."

"Is that all?" said the fox. "I am master of a hundred arts, and I have a sackful of cunning tricks in addition. But I pity you. Come with me, and I will teach you how to escape from the dogs."

Just then a huntsman came along with four hounds. The cat sprang trembling into a tree, and crept stealthily up to the topmost branch, where she was entirely hidden by twigs and leaves.

"Open your sack, Mr. Fox! open your sack!" cried the cat, but the dogs had gripped him, and held him fast.

"Oh, Mr. Fox!" cried the cat, "you with your hundred arts, and your sackful of tricks, are held fast, while I, with my one, am safe. Had you been able to creep up here, you would not have lost you life."

* * * * *


There once lived in Japan a rat and his wife, folk of noble race, who had one beautiful daughter. They were exceedingly proud of her charms, and dreamed, as parents will, of the grand marriage she was sure to make in time. Proud of his pure rodent blood, the father saw no son-in-law more to be desired than a young rat of ancient lineage, whose attentions to his daughter were very marked. This match, however, brilliant as it was, seemed not to the mother's taste. Like many people who think themselves made out of special clay, she had a very poor opinion of her own kind, and was ambitious for an alliance with the highest circles. To the stars! was her motto, she always said, and really, when one has a daughter of incomparable beauty, one may well hope for an equally incomparable son-in-law.

"Address yourself to the sun at once, then," cried the impatient father one day; "there is nothing above him, surely."

"Quite so; I had already thought of it," she answered, "and since you, too, are in sympathy with the idea, we will make our call to-morrow."

So, on the following morning the proud father and the haughty mother-rat went together to present their lovely daughter to the orb of day.

"Lord Sun," said the mother, "let me present our only daughter, who is so beautiful that there is nothing like her in the whole world. Naturally we desire a son-in-law as wonderful as she, and, as you see, we have come to you first of all."

"Really," said the sun, "I am extremely flattered by your proposal, but you do me too much honor; there is some one greater than I; it is the cloud. Look, if you do not believe."... And at that moment the cloud arrived, and with one waft of his folds extinguished the sun with all his golden rays.

"Very well; let us speak to the cloud, then," said the mother-rat, not in the least disconcerted.

"Immensely honored, I am sure," replied the cloud in his turn, "but you are again mistaken; there is some one greater than I; it is the wind. You shall see."

At the same moment along came the wind, and with one blow swept the cloud out of sight, after which, overturning father, mother, and daughter, he tumbled with them, pell-mell, at the foot of an old wall.

"Quick, quick," cried the mother-rat, struggling to her feet, "and let us repeat our compliments to the wind."

"You'd better address yourself to the wall," growled the wind roughly. "You see very well he is greater than I, for he stops me and makes me draw back."

No sooner had she heard these words than mother-rat faced about and presented her daughter to the wall. Ah, but now the fair rat-maiden imitated the wind; she drew back also. He whom she really adored in her heart of hearts was the fascinating young rat who had paid his court to her so well. However, to please her mother, she had consented to wed the Sun, in spite of his blinding rays, or the cloud, in spite of his sulky look, even the wind, in spite of his brusque manner; but an old, broken wall!... No! death would be better a thousand times.

Fortunately the wall excused himself, like all the rest. "Certainly," he said, "I can stop the wind, who can sweep away the cloud, who can cover up the Sun, but there is some one greater than I: it is the rat, who can pass through my body, and can even, if he chooses, reduce me to powder with his teeth. Believe me, you need seek no better son-in-law; greater than the rat, there is nothing in the world."

"Do you hear that, wife, do you hear it?" cried father-rat in triumph. "Didn't I always say so?"

"Quite true! you always did," returned the mother-rat in wonder, and suddenly glowed with pride in her ancient name and lineage.

So they all three went home, very happy and contented, and on the morrow the lovely rat-maiden married her faithful rat-lover.

* * * * *


Once upon a time a little mouse and a little sausage, who loved each other like sisters, decided to live together, and made their arrangements in such a way that every day one would go to walk in the fields, or make purchases in town, while the other remained at home to keep the house.

One day, when the little sausage had prepared cabbage for dinner, the little mouse, who had come back from town with a fine appetite, enjoyed it so greatly that she exclaimed: "How delicious the cabbage is to-day, my dear!"

"Ah!" answered the little sausage, "that is because I popped myself into the pot while it was cooking."

On the next day, as it was her turn to prepare the meals, the little mouse said to herself: "Now I will do as much for my friend as she did for me; we will have lentils for dinner, and I will jump into the pot while they are boiling," and she let the action follow the word, without reflecting that a simple sausage can do some things which are out of the reach of even the wisest mouse.

When the sausage came home, she found the house lonely and silent. She called again and again, "My little mouse! Mouse of my heart!" but no one answered. Then she went to look at the lentils boiling on the stove, and, alas! found within the pot her good little friend, who had perished at the post of duty.

Poor mousie, with the best intentions in the world, had stayed too long at her cookery, and when she desired to climb out of the pot, had no longer the strength to do so.

And the poor sausage could never be consoled! That is why to-day, when you put one in the pan or on the gridiron, you will hear her weep and sigh, "M-my p-poor m-mouse! Ah, m-my p-poor m-mouse!"

* * * * *


There was once a man who had three sons. Johnny, the youngest, was always looked upon as the simpleton of the family, and had very little consideration or kindness shown him.

It happened one day that the eldest son was going out into the wood to cut fuel; and before he started, his mother gave him a slice of rich plum-cake and a flask of wine, so that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst.

Just as he reached the wood, he met a queer old man, dressed in gray, who wished him "Good day," and begged for a piece of the young man's cake and a drink of wine.

But the greedy youth replied: "If I were to give you cake and wine, I should not have enough left for myself; so be off with you, and leave me in peace."

Then he pushed the little man rudely on one side and went his way. He soon came to a likely-looking tree, and began to hew it down, but he made a false stroke, and instead of striking the tree he buried his axe in his own arm, and was obliged to hurry home as fast as he could to have the wound dressed.

And this was what came of offending the little gray man!

The following day the second son set out to the wood, and his mother treated him just as she had done her eldest son—gave him a slice of cake and a flask of wine, in case he should feel hungry. The little gray man met him at the entrance to the wood, and begged for a share of his food, but the young man answered:

"The more I give to you, the less I have for myself. Be off with you."

Then he left the little gray man standing in the road, and went on his way. But it was not long before he, too, was punished; for the first stroke he aimed at a tree glanced aside and wounded his leg, so that he was obliged to be carried home.

Then said the Simpleton: "Father, let me go to the wood for once. I will bring you home plenty of fuel."

"Nonsense," answered the father. "Both your brothers have got into trouble, and it is not likely that I am going to trust you."

But Johnny would not give up the idea, and worried his father, till at last he said:

"Very well, my son, have your own way. You shall learn by experience that I know better than you."

There was no rich cake for the simpleton of the family. His mother just gave him a little loaf of dough and a bottle of sour beer.

No sooner did he reach the wood than the little gray man appeared.

"Give me a piece of your cake and a drink of your wine?" said he.

But the young man told him he had only a dough loaf and a bottle of sour beer.

"Still," said he, "you are welcome to a share of the food, such as it is."

So the two sat down together; but when Johnny took his humble fare from his pocket, what was his surprise to find it changed into the most delicious cake and wine. Then the young man and his guest made a hearty meal, and when it was ended the little gray man said:

"Because you have such a kind heart, and have willingly shared your food with me, I am going to reward you. Yonder stands an old tree: hew it down, and deep in the heart of the roots you will find something."

The old man then nodded kindly, and disappeared in a moment.

Johnny at once did as he had been told, and as soon as the tree fell he saw, sitting in the midst of the roots, a goose with feathers of purest gold. He lifted it carefully out, and carried it with him to the inn, where he meant to spend the night.

Now, the landlord had three daughters, and no sooner did they see the goose than they wanted to know what curious kind of bird it might be, for never before had they seen a fowl of any kind with feathers of pure gold. The eldest made up her mind to wait for a good opportunity and then pluck a feather for herself. So as soon as Johnny went out of the room she put out her hand and seized the wing of the goose, but what was her horror to find that she could not unclasp her fingers again, nor even move her hand from the golden goose!

Very soon the second sister came creeping into the room, meaning also to steal a feather; but no sooner did she touch her sister than she, too, was unable to draw her hand away.

Lastly came the third, anxious to secure a feather before the goose's master returned.

"Go away! go away!" screamed her two sisters, but she could not understand why she should not help herself as well as the others.

So she paid no heed to their cries, but came toward them and stretched out her hand to the goose.

In doing so she touched her second sister, and then, alas! she too, was held fast.

They pulled and tugged with might and main, but it was all of no use; they could not get away, and there they had to remain the whole night.

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