Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors and misprints have been corrected.
Blank pages present in the printed original have been deleted in the
e-text version.
Text in small capitals has been replaced by regular uppercase text
whereas text in italics is indicated between _underscores_.
* * * * *
The Laughing Bear
[Illustration]
The Laughing Bear
And Other Stories
_By_
ROBERT B. H. BELL, M. A.
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
ROBERT J. SHORES
PUBLISHER
Copyright, 1917,
ROBERT J. SHORES.
DEDICATION.
To the children of St. Mark's Church, Seattle, whose interest in these
stories, told many years ago, was the inspiration that brought them to
life. May they prove to other children the same joy. And so to them
this book is lovingly dedicated by
The Author.
CONTENTS
The Laughing Bear Page 15
The Gray Witch Page 34
Mr. Rooster Page 54
The Mid-Earth People Page 61
The Black Hus Page 78
The Leviathan Page 96
The Brown Friar Page 109
The Laughing Bear
THE LAUGHING BEAR--or MOUWOU THE DELIVERER.
A LONG time ago at Seoul, the capital of Korea (now under the control
of Japan), lived a king and queen who had a little daughter called
Chonwa.
The little princess grew in the sunshine of her parents' love, until
she reached the age of eight. Then it was announced that, according
to the custom of her country, her betrothal was to be arranged by the
state. The mother led her into the beautiful garden and tried to show
the perplexed girl why the rules of the court required that a king's
child should be married for the sake of the country.
So fixed were their minds on this subject, that neither of them noticed
a dark, fierce-looking man creeping after them. None but a very bold
man would have dared come thus into the king's private grounds. He
followed with fierce glances every movement of the innocent pair. When
the queen and her child sat down on a bench to watch a turtledove
drink at the fountain, the man crawled toward them with a long knife in
his teeth. He was almost upon them, when the queen happened to see him.
Before she could even cry for help, the ruffian stabbed her twice.
Courageously, the little princess sprang upon the man and scratched
his face. He drew back from the unexpected attack, then rushed at the
defiant little maiden, seized her by the waist, and carried her off in
his arms.
Just as he reached the gate, he was stopped by an encounter that he
little expected--he found himself face to face with an ugly, grinning
bear.
The man placed his frightened burden on the ground, then reached for
his bloody knife, and sprang at the huge bear. The bear sat up, still
grinning. When the man came near enough, she struck him such a blow on
the head that he went sprawling to the ground, and the knife flew out
of his hand.
The man lay where he had fallen, with his ashen face turned toward the
setting sun. Bruin waddled over to him and pushed him with her nose to
see if he would move. He showed no sign of life. Then the bear turned
and tried to pull the princess by the sleeve toward the palace. Chonwa
was not at all afraid of her rescuer and followed her willingly.
They had not gone far when they were met by the king's guards, who came
rushing toward them in frantic haste. The child hesitated between them
and her rescuer, but when the captain laid hold of her, the bear turned
and trotted away.
Chonwa told her father and his court of the attack and the rescue, but
only the guard believed the bear part of the tale; and when, after a
long hunt, no trace of bear or robber was found, the king dropped the
whole affair.
The queen mother had a long illness, from which her recovery was
hastened by the sight of her darling daughter, whom she had given up as
lost.
The princess never forgot her shaggy deliverer, but looked daily for
her return. Time passed rapidly at the court, and it did not seem long
till four years had rolled away. By this time, according to the custom
of her nation, Chonwa, though only twelve years old, was considered
ready for marriage.
She was taken into the inner palace and clothed like a woman. A hateful
"chan-ot" or veil was put over her face so that boys could not see
her. Her only playmate was a harsh old governess who scolded her all
the time, so that poor Chonwa often wished herself dead.
Among her former boy friends was a young prince, whom Chonwa considered
her best playmate. One day she stole from the palace, unseen by her
governess, and met this boy-prince whose name was Mousan. They were
found out, and two days later the young prince was banished and Chonwa
was betrothed to a sixty year old prince, whom she had never seen. Her
protests were all in vain, for it was considered an honorable marriage
arranged by the state for the benefit of the people of Korea. Imagine
Chonwa's misery when she beheld her betrothed. His name was Hamkieng,
which made one think of "dead pig." He looked like a pig, too, and
snored loudly even in the daytime, when he was not being amused. When
he walked he waddled like a very fat porker. Chonwa cried for days, but
she could not stop the marriage arrangements, and at last the wedding
day arrived.
The palace was beautifully decorated, and the guests were all
assembled. Just as the king gave the command for the ceremony to begin,
a loud growl was heard coming from the entrance. The priest stopped
his preparations and fled. No wonder, for at that instant came into the
room the great bear, Chonwa's friend! The queen fainted, and the king
in trying to help her stumbled headlong over her. Prince Hammie--so
they called him at the court--drawing his sword, made an awkward thrust
at the beast, who raised a great paw, and smote him on the head,
rolling him over and over like a barrel. By this time the company had
scattered and hid!
The princess was delighted to see her old friend, and she gave Bruin a
tight hug. The guests, venturing from their hiding-places, were more
astonished than before. Still more were they amazed to see Chonwa
bestride the grinning bear and ride out of the palace! Out into the
garden she rode, past the soldiers, down the busy street and into a
neighboring forest.
The king and queen were wild with grief, and the unlucky Hammie,
chagrined at his bride's escape, bit his long finger nails. A reward
was offered for the head of the old bear, and the hand of the princess
was promised to the young man who should bring Chonwa safely home.
Meanwhile, as Chonwa dismounted in the forest, she became aware of a
young man coming toward her. He was dressed in white and carried a
black broad-brimmed hat. Chonwa at once recognized Mousan, the banished
prince!
"I cannot tell you," said the prince, "how thankful I am to find you; I
have waited all these months wondering what had become of you!"
Bruin gathered the two thankful children in her arms and, opening her
mouth, began to talk.
"My dear Chonwa," she began, "I have come to bring you to a land more
beautiful than any you have ever imagined, where play is as work and
work is as play. We shall proceed to the Eastern mountains and then
trace the beautiful river Nak-tong-kang to the sea, finally to settle
down in a wonderful home by ourselves."
But her words of comfort were interrupted by the appearance of a
funny-looking fat man. His eyebrows were so long that he had them
braided, and they hung over his ears like spectacles. Between his thumb
and finger he held a highly polished stone. He explained that he was
Hu-Mok, the Stone Doctor, who could cure all diseases.
The bear growled, but Chonwa begged the Stone Doctor to cure her eyes,
which had been weakened from wearing the veil. Whereupon he slapped
his knees and held the stone before her gaze. Suddenly the girl felt
a peculiar dizziness. She felt her eyes getting larger and larger, and
the Doctor kept getting bigger and bigger--and then she knew no more;
she had fainted.
Mousan caught her as she fell, and the bear lifted her right paw and
smote the Doctor a heavy blow. He went sprawling to the grass and his
stone lodged in a nearby tree. It took some time to revive the girl.
Meanwhile, the Doctor had recovered sufficiently to sit up. He was a
pitiful-looking object. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair stood up
as if he had had a bad dream. "Oh, give me my stone! Oh, give me my
precious stone! Oh!" moaned the doleful old quack.
Mouwou growled, showing her great white teeth and raising her terrible
paw, at which he became silent.
But so angered was Mousan by the false Doctor's wicked trick, that he
rushed upon him, grabbed his eyebrow whiskers, and dragged him off
howling.
Scarcely had the two disappeared from view of the others, than the
quack sprang like a tiger upon the young prince and bore him to the
ground; then he placed his hand upon the boy's mouth to prevent him
from yelling for help.
"Now!" hissed the furious Hu-Mok, who was twice as strong as any
ordinary man, "I shall teach you a thing or two!" Mousan struggled to
escape, but the strong one planted a heavy foot on his neck and kept it
there till he was senseless. Cautiously the villain looked around lest
some one should see, then dragged his victim to his den.
When the princess had revived completely, the bear persuaded her to
mount her back again. Bruin at this time had not guessed that there was
anything wrong with her other charge; so when the princess asked her
where Mousan was, she merely replied that he had gone to punish the
Doctor.
They had not gone very far when they saw a snake charming a little
bird. The bird could not move from its perch, but stood screaming
and flapping its wings in terror. The old bear rushed at the reptile
and struck it a deadly blow. At once the grateful bird flew to its
rescuers. It perched upon the shoulder of the girl and rubbed its
smooth feathers against her cheek, while the snake wiggled away to die.
So this queer trio passed through the woods, the bird on Chonwa's
shoulder and the girl on the bear's back. They were surprised and
delighted when they came to a little thatched shanty on which was a
sign with the words, "Rest for the Weary."
"Do let us rest here till Mousan catches up!" begged eager Chonwa. She
dismounted, approached the house, and peered in. There she saw, to her
delight, a beautiful woman lying on a couch reading.
She knocked gently and the woman came out smiling, and holding a glass
of wine. Chonwa was very thirsty but when she was about to take the
drink, the woman opened her mouth, and behold, a cloven tongue darted
out!
Chonwa dropped the glass and fled in fear.
The woman was the serpent come to life again. The instant Chonwa saw
her mistake the woman changed back into the snake and began to pursue
her.
The bear was some distance away and so could not help her charge. The
snake was almost upon the princess, when the little bird flew with all
its strength against the open mouth of the reptile. By flapping its
tiny wings in the serpent's eyes, the bird prevented it from biting.
But the frail rescuer received the blow intended for Chonwa, and fell
to the ground in great agony, though it was not seen by the others.
Mouwou quickly arrived at the scene of danger. Angry as fire, she smote
the snake a terrible blow on the head, crushing it. Then, unable to
find the gallant bird, the two went on.
Finally they came to a very pretty resting place by a brook that
gurgled and sang a sweet song all day and all night. Like a good
mother, the bear placed the tired girl on a patch of moss and sang her
to sleep.
When Chonwa awoke she was much refreshed, and at once inquired about
Mousan.
The bear, too, had been worrying about the prince. To the princess she
said: "Do not be afraid--I'll go in search of him. Stay right in this
spot, and do not believe everything that you hear." So saying, she
lumbered out of sight.
No sooner had the bear-mother gone than the little wounded bird came
crawling toward the maid. "I am dying, dear friend," it sobbed, "and
I want to see you before I go. You have been so good to me!" Then the
bird's voice became faint, and its eyes opened wide as in a death-stare.
"Oh! Oh!" sobbed Chonwa. "You must not die! You saved my life." But the
bird was past saving, for the poison was doing its work quickly.
At that instant, a voice was heard calling sweetly: "Mushrooms!
Mushrooms! Sure cure for all diseases. This way, gentle girl. I can
help you. See how delicious."
Chonwa saw a strange little humpbacked man. He was scarcely three feet
tall. His face looked old, but his voice was like that of a little
choir-boy. In a dish he carried about a dozen mushrooms. They were hot
and had been roasted in butter and salt, and they filled the air with a
fragrance that made Chonwa's mouth water.
But she, remembering how the woman had fooled her, was afraid.
"Who are you?" demanded Chonwa.
"I am a great cook," said the man, bowing low. "I have cooked for your
father many a time. You have tasted my dishes before. I am now cooking
for the queen of the forest. See, princess, just try it on that little
bird. My cooking acts like medicine."
With Chonwa's consent, he thrust a little particle down the bird's
throat. The bird revived instantly and stood up and chirruped with
delight.
Nevertheless, the mushrooms were poison. The hunchback was Mikado, the
snake-woman's slave, and the mushrooms were the wicked woman turned
into food. As poison cures poison, the poisoned mushrooms had acted as
an antidote and the bird was saved. But the child not knowing the laws
of chemistry, believed that the mushrooms were good food, as well as
fine medicine, so she helped herself to the appetizing dainties. Soon
she felt drowsy and laid herself down. The hunchback kicked his heels
in the air and danced with joy. "I am saved!" he shouted. He had been
promised a straight back, such as he had before he followed the evil
woman, if he could succeed in destroying one life.
"Ha, ha! My back will soon be straight," he sang out. "Ha! Am I not
clever? Already I feel my hump getting--!"
"Straight!" growled Mouwou, who at that moment appeared. Her tongue
hung out, red with heat, and her breast was covered with flaked foam.
Her eyes blazed fire and her voice sounded like the rumbling of thunder.
The cook's tune of mirth was instantly changed to wails for mercy. His
hair stood on end, his jaws relaxed, and his eyes almost swelled out.
"Yes!" said the bear. "I'll straighten you, miserable cook!" She
lifted her huge paw and brought it down with terrible force upon the
hump.
"Ouch! Ouch!" yelled the dancer, as his hump pushed through and thrust
out before him. He was hump-chested now!
"There!" said the bear. "Henceforth, you'll follow your hump. You won't
have to carry it on your back any more!"
While Mouwou was dealing with the cook, the little bird was furiously
picking at Chonwa's swollen neck. She picked and picked until a hole
was made in the skin. Immediately a snake ran out and disappeared in
the grass. Mouwou turned to the princess and began to scratch her arm.
Several snakes fell out and the bear killed them. Again and again she
scratched, till more than twenty snakes had come out and been killed.
The princess was soon entirely well. As it was growing dark, the mother
made a cozy bed of leaves and bade her good night. With a prayer for
the safety of Mousan. Chonwa fell asleep.
In the morning, just before they started on their hunt, the bird took a
little flight to exercise its wings. It returned with the information
that the hunchback was lying not far away in much pain. Following the
bird, Chonwa and the bear found the hunchback rolling on the ground,
apparently too weak to stand. He thought his head had been twisted
round, because he could see his hump, a thing he never could do before!
He had spent the greater part of the night in rolling over and over
trying to twist his head so that the back would be where the face was.
When he saw the bear, he begged her to untwist him.
"I'll twist your pin-head for you, you rascal," she said, "if that is
all that you want!"
So saying, with one wrench she turned his face around till he was
really looking backward.
The man rose to his feet with great difficulty and proceeded to walk,
but to his astonishment he walked backward. His feet went the usual
way, but as his head was looking backward, he could not see where he
was going, and he bumped into a tree. He tried to walk the way his nose
pointed and he fell again and again. At last he gave it up and sat down.
He was more confused than ever to find himself buckling up in the way
opposite to that to which he had been accustomed. Finally, down he
went as his body would have it, and he found his nose against the tree
instead of the back of his head. Sobbing loudly, he took his head in
his hands and wept tears down the back of his neck.
"Oh, dear bear, cure me!" he moaned, "I am a miserable sinner and I
deserve it all! But please give me a chance, and I shall do better in
the future! Never again shall I associate with that snake woman! Never!
I want to be good!" This was the very thing that the bear wanted, for
it was very hard for her to seem so cruel to one in such pain.
The little princess, who had been crying, nodded approvingly at the
bear, who immediately caught the man in her arms and righted his head
to the proper place. Then she laid him on the ground and with one great
whack made him a straight man again.
The wicked snake-woman had bent him in making him do her bidding. Now
that he was well, he became a convert to the new life, and was added to
the company of three. He volunteered to guide them to the house where
the Doctor lived.
They started none too soon to look for Mousan, who at that time
lay bound in a horrible den some distance off. After the quack had
deposited the prince in his own cave, he went in search of his precious
stone, which he quickly found. He returned in great glee to the cave.
Entering, he sat on a low stool facing the boy, who was bound so that
he could not move.
The Doctor then called for his pipe, and a horrid lizard crawled toward
him with the pipe in its mouth. Then the man called loudly for his
tobacco, and a great turtle crawled forward with it on his back.
Slowly the Doctor filled his pipe and lighted it. At the first puff his
mouth was filled with dirt from the foul pipe, and he jumped in the
air, yelling loudly. He landed on the turtle and slipped. In his anger,
he kicked the lizard and jumped again and again upon the turtle's back,
at which the turtle seized him by the leg. It was a grand mix-up for a
few minutes. The prince could not help laughing, and once started he
laughed till the tears rolled down his face.
Finally the Doctor freed himself from the turtle and rushed to the boy.
"You are laughing, eh!" he exclaimed, shaking his fist at Mousan. "I
shall soon have you silenced!"
From his pocket he took his polished stone, which he placed in the
prince's mouth. In a few minutes the boy was completely paralyzed. With
eyes wide open and his hearing gone, he lay rigid all night.
At break of day the quack came to his side and said: "Young man, I
have made up my mind to teach you my art--on one condition. My work on
earth is to make all men as miserable as possible. When I see a man at
the height of his ambition, I step in and compel him to make a fool of
himself, and down and out he goes. Ha! If I cannot ruin him that way,
I tell something nasty about him to some deluded soul, who spreads the
news to the mob, and presto! my man is done for. Again, I like to throw
a microbe into the stomach of a healthy person and watch him squirm.
Come, join me and I will teach you the art of the magic stone."
Freed from the spell, at the Doctor's will, the boy sat up and
stretched his arms. But he shook his head to the proposal.
"Very well, then!" said the angry quack. Then he fastened about the
prince's neck a chain attached to a pole, and left the cave.
At once a great swarm of ants came running toward the boy. He fought
them off till he fell exhausted to the floor, his body covered with the
nipping insects. The pain of a thousand bites made him feel that his
end was near, and he closed his eyes, praying for death.
The quack came again and offered him freedom, if he would become one of
his followers. The prince made no reply; so his tormentor sat down to
enjoy the sight of his dying victim.
Suddenly the cave was darkened. The Doctor turned and saw the bear!
Staggering to his feet, he fled to an inner recess. Like a flash the
bear rushed over the ants, freed the boy from his chains, carried him
out, placed him upon the green grass, and began to lick his wounds.
In a few moments the prince opened his eyes, and upon the arrival of
the princess and the little man, he was smiling. Water was brought from
a nearby stream and Mikado washed Mousan's body and limbs.
"Mikado," said the bear, "I am going to find the quack and get his
magic stone. Please look after things while I am gone. I'll cure the
boy with the rascal's magic!"
In a few minutes the bear returned, holding in her paw the glistening
stone. "Now," said she, "let all wish that the prince may become well
again; and you, my dear Mousan, look at this stone."
They did so and Mousan recovered immediately. The poor boy could
scarcely believe that he was well again and that his dear Chonwa was
with him.
Then Mouwou gathered the children in her furry embrace.
"I am glad to have both of you alive with me this day, and that I can
speak to you now knowing that you will understand. Obedience is the
law of all creation, and he that disobeys will come to a very bad end.
All the pain that you have witnessed, and some that you have endured,
has come from disobedience to the law of kindness. But we shall forget
the past and only think of the future. I have the Doctor's stone, and
by this we shall be able to undo all the evil conjured up by that
miserable fellow. The man himself I marked with a "Q," meaning quack,
so that all who see him may know the truth. Come, let us be going to
the great South Country."
The four picked up the trail and proceeded to the Land of Sunshine and
Joy, ever obedient to the old bear.
The prince and the princess were married when they grew up, and lived
very happily to ripe old age; and the rest of the story you will find
written in the annals of Korea.
THE GRAY WITCH
IN a city of which you all know the name lives a little girl who
formerly was very naughty but now behaves much better than she did.
This little girl was very beautiful, which made it seem all the more
sad that she ever was naughty.
One day she was particularly bad and would do nothing to please
anybody. She wanted to be petted, waited upon, and humored all the
time. She fretted and whined so much, that when evening came, her
mother was no longer able to endure her behavior, and sent her to bed
immediately after supper.
As she lay dozing in her little cot, she remembered that she had
not said her prayers. She would not get out of bed to say them, but
muttered in a peevish voice: "I wish that God would punish all the
wicked people I know! But there's no use praying anyway!"
No sooner had little Polly uttered these words, than a light flashed
upon her astonished eyes. She sat up in bed and gazed in horror.
Coming toward her was an old, stooped, wild-eyed woman, dressed in gray
and carrying a big stick.
Polly tried to scream, but her voice seemed no louder than the squeak
of a mouse. Then she tried to get out of bed and run to her mother,
but could not move a foot, nor even a finger. Meanwhile the hag came
nearer, and as she approached she grew more ugly.
Polly was already nearly dead with terror; yet what did the old woman
do but reach her heavy hand and lift the child by her hair right out
of bed! Then the frightful hag let her fall upon the floor, gave her a
hideous look, and sharply commanded: "Follow me, pouter!"
In vain did Polly try to resist. Clad only in her nightdress, she
followed her unwelcome guide out of the house. The night was cold, and
the streets were muddy. After they had tramped about for a while, the
witch stooped lower than ever and made Polly bestride her back; then
she flew with her little rider to the Mountains. Here the hag stopped,
and placing the child on the ground, commanded her to wish.
Poor Polly was afraid to speak.
"Ask! Ask!" the witch kept repeating, as she stood over Polly,
shaking her long bony hand at her. "I give you five minutes to decide!
Going--going--gone!"
At the last word the old woman clapped her hands together, making
sparks fly.
Polly screamed with terror: "I only want to be good! Please!"
Then, for a long time, Polly remembered no more. Everything became
dark, and she thought she was getting smaller and smaller, until
suddenly she became a pin-point and pricked herself, as if she had been
somebody else!
"Oh!" she exclaimed as she came to herself again. She looked about,
and saw beautiful mountains all around. The valley in which she lay
was green with grass and glowing with beautiful wild flowers. Not far
off she could see a clear, sparkling river. She was clad in a new and
lovely pink frock with stockings and shoes to match. What did it all
mean?
The sun was already high in midheaven. As far as Polly's eyes could
see, the scenery was entrancing. Birds sang in the branches, and
squirrels ran to Polly and begged for nuts.
Then she heard the shout of little children, and saw twenty or more
youngsters frolicking in a near meadow.
When the children saw her they ran to meet her and made her very
welcome. Soon she became quite at home among them.
Finally a little boy named Harry pointed with his finger; "See, it is
dinner-time!" he said.
Polly looked where the boy pointed and was astonished to see a tall,
stately clock-tower, rising high above all the mountains. The hands of
the clock pointed to twelve.
"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Polly. "Isn't it grand? Why didn't I notice it
before?"
"Because," said Harry, "you were playing and not thinking about time."
At that instant the clock struck twelve. Then it chimed forth a sweet
chant, more beautiful than anything that Polly ever had heard. It made
her feel as though she were in heaven. But being still a child of
earth, she clapped her hands and scampered off with the other children
to the tower.
"How often, Harry, does that clock chime?" asked Polly.
"It plays music every quarter of an hour."
"How is it, then, that I did not hear the music before?"
"Do you really mean that you have not heard the clock chime all the
morning? It has been playing right along. You must have seen that we
children stopped playing for a few seconds now and then. At those times
we were listening to the music."
The other children gathered about Polly, and when Harry told them about
her failure to hear the chimes, they all began to laugh.
Polly could not bear to be laughed at so she cried bitterly; whereupon
the other children scampered off.
Harry, however, tried to comfort the weeping child. "Polly," he
pleaded, "never mind those children; they do not know any better."
Polly suddenly drew away from him. "I guess you told them things about
me! Go away from me! You are a tattle-tale!"
She stamped her foot, and her eyes flashed. Harry turned and walked
away sadly.
Suddenly to Polly all nature became very still and lonesome. She was
sorry that all the children had gone, and she did not know where to
find them. The great clock-tower too had disappeared. She began to be
afraid once more. Sitting down on a stone she almost wished herself
dead. No one loved her. The sun began to move toward the West and Polly
was beginning to feel hungry as well as sad.
But now occurred something that made her forget all about hunger: She
saw the witch approaching her, looking more horrid than ever. When
Polly tried to run, she found herself so badly frightened that she
could not move from the spot.
"Oh, please, please, good woman," pleaded Polly, falling on her knees,
"don't take me away from these fields. I know I was naughty, but I will
try to do better in the future. Please--don't take me away!"
Instead of scolding and threatening, as Polly feared, the hag gently
patted her on the head, saying: "So you want to stay here. My child, no
one can stay here who wishes evil and is stubborn."
"I'll be good--I'll be good," pleaded Polly.
"Then, child, you shall have your wish," replied the old woman,
disappearing from the scene.
As soon as the witch was gone, Polly rose from her knees and wished
for Harry, but wishing did not bring him. Feeling tired after so much
excitement, she lay down and peacefully drifted into dreamland.
She was aroused by Harry's voice.
"Polly! Polly!" he was gently calling until she opened her large blue
eyes. "It is past dinner-time," he said, "and if you do not hurry
there will be no good things to eat."
"Oh, Harry, Harry!" she cried. "I have been very, very naughty!"
Happily they walked toward the great clock tower, which had become
visible again to Polly. She afterward learned that her vision changed
with her mood. In this land, if she was cranky and irritable she saw
snakes and toads and worms and other creeping things, while if she was
good she saw only singing birds and laughing waters and other beautiful
objects.
When the two entered the hall, most of the other children were leaving.
Polly followed her friend to a seat and began to enjoy the good things
on the table.
After they had eaten, Harry led her about the building and showed her
its many wonders. They were about to leave when Polly discovered a
picture that startled her. It appeared to be a large painting of two
children, walking together, and an old hag dragging after.
"Oh, Harry!" exclaimed Polly, starting back, "it is the picture of the
gray witch! Come, let us run!"
She turned to flee but Harry caught her. "Yes, Polly," he said in
surprise, "it is the witch, but she is not ugly but beautiful. If you
knew her you would like her. She loves all of us very dearly. It is she
who gave you that fine dinner!"
"I do not believe it! She is horrid--I hate her!" shouted Polly. "She
is always scolding me."
"You must be mistaken, Polly. She is the kindest woman in all the
world!"
Polly turned to look at the picture again. It had changed. The girl
was a saucy little minx, but the boy was full of grace and beauty. The
witch was smiling.
"Why," whispered Polly, "that boy looks like you! But how wild the
little girl looks! The witch is smiling. I never saw the old thing look
like that before."
"It is not a painted picture at all," said Harry, "but only a mirror."
"Oh," screamed Polly, turning round to find the witch. But the old
woman was gone. Polly glanced at the mirror again, and there stood the
two children alone.
"I hope the witch did not hear what I said about her," she exclaimed.
They left the building and wandered along a pretty green carpeted road.
A fat goose with her brood of goslings waddled after them, gabbling
something that sounded like this: "Wait for us! We want to go too. My
little children cannot walk so fast. Hold on! Hold on there!"
Polly stopped and beckoned to the old thing. Immediately the mother
with her group of children came to her. She said that her goslings were
the finest children in all the land. "Why," she said, "they walked as
soon as they were born! Not like humans, who have to be nursed and
cradled for years before they know anything. My children began to do
for themselves when they were an hour old. Now humans are stupid till
they are taught a trade with which to earn a living. There are no idle
children among my youngsters."
"I have always heard people say 'as foolish as a goose,'" replied
Polly. "I am never going to say that again, for I see that I was
mistaken. I should have said 'as stupid as human children!'"
When all were rested they started off to the half-mile creek to see the
big bullfrogs.
"Now watch, Polly," said Harry, when they reached the banks, "and you
will see the great prince of the frogs. He comes out about this time of
the day to review his subjects. There is the band coming already. Like
other monarchs, he likes to be preceded by a great swell of music. The
people of Frogdom must be impressed."
Sure enough, there swam into view a company of frogs, big and little.
They swam to a little island and leaped up the bank. The leader, who
was a little larger than the others, faced them and waved a small twig.
Immediately the frog band struck up.
It was a strange band indeed. They had all the parts, from the bass
up to a high treble. The water trombones sat breast deep in the water
so that they produced a very delightful music. Others stood on their
toes and rubbed themselves against the tall grass to produce a violin
effect. The big frogs played bass; the little fellows shrilled like
piccolos.
The children clapped their hands and sang to the accompaniment of the
frog band. The old goose swung her head from side to side, keeping
time with the music, while the goslings sang all of the tunes they
knew. When the band played a familiar cake-walk, they waddled about
the bridge as gracefully as goslings could, with their necks joined
together.
Suddenly the band ceased, and the children beheld a very large bullfrog
sitting on a pond lily drawn by eight little frogs. Dreamily the car
of state floated toward the little island.
"It is the king," whispered Harry.
The big lazy frog landed at the island, followed by a great host of
froggies. Then he stood up and his subjects bowed low. When the band
struck up the national anthem of Frogdom, all the frogs cheered and
waved their hands. Then they had games and contests to please his
majesty. Some turned somersaults, some in swimming races made wonderful
time, while others strutted on their hind legs to see who could do it
longest.
The old goose was very much annoyed at the haughty ways of the frog
king, and she muttered something about people making too much of
themselves. "I would like to teach that fat fellow that he is better
able to draw those little frogs than they are to draw him!" she
declared as she jumped into the water and swam to the island.
As soon as she reached shore, she waddled up to the king, who was
addressing his subjects. Nobody noticed her approach and their
astonishment knew no bounds when she appeared among them hissing
loudly. The king was so startled that he broke down in his speech, and
his subjects lost no time in diving deep into the water.
The ruler was left alone and defenseless. The goose seized him by
his fat sides, and swallowed his majesty. The king was no more. His
bereaved subjects wailed, and the band played a mournful tune, as they
saw their monarch disappearing, inch by inch, down the long neck of the
goose.
Mrs. Goose turned upon the crowd. "You simpering loons!" she hissed,
"what are you mourning over? A lost king? No, but over your own
stupidity. Now you are free and I advise you to set up no more
monarchs; if you do, I shall turn my goslings loose upon you." So
saying she swam back again and waddled about on the bridge.
After this exciting incident the children took off their shoes and
paddled in the cool stream. Polly was delighted to feel the little
fishes nibbling at her toes. When this enjoyment was at its height,
they were surprised to see a little man gliding toward them in a little
boat. He came paddling against the stream, singing as he dipped the
blade into the water. He was a handsome fellow and sat bravely in his
wee cockleshell.
"Get in my children," he said. "I have been sent to bring you to the
great palace."
"But," protested Polly, "the boat is no longer than my own body."
"Nothing can be accomplished without trying," said the little boatman,
so they stepped in and instead of sinking, the boat rose just a little
out of the water. It was certainly a magic boat. And when the boatman
plied his paddle the little vessel skimmed like a swallow along the
surface. Upstream they glided, passing under many bridges. It was the
most delightful trip that Polly had ever taken.
Just below the landing was a bend in the stream and as they rounded it
a magnificent landscape suddenly popped into view. A splendid building
stood close to the landing. It was known as the River Castle. As the
children sprang out, a merry group of youngsters came running to meet
them. An acquaintance began at once, and soon Polly and Harry were
playing with the other children as if they had known one another for
years.
By and by there was a lull in the play, and Polly's eyes wandered
to the great tall building. She had not carefully observed the high
eight-sided tower, whose top was lost to view in the clouds. Its
sides were set with bell-shaped disks, made of different metals--some
of gold, some of silver, and others of copper. As the light of the
setting sun shone upon them, the scene was beyond description.
"What is that?" whispered Polly grasping an arm of her friend, and
pointing toward the castle.
"That is the great reflector. Every sound that has ever been made is
repeated here," explained Harry. "Even the growing corn may be heard
singing as it grows."
They were interrupted by the striking of the old town-clock. They
counted the strokes--one, two, three, four, five. They seemed many
miles away.
"It is the old clock in the tower," whispered Polly.
The disks took up the sweet notes and magnified them till they sang a
thousand times more sweetly. Then the chimes struck up their beautiful
music. The children stood with bowed heads as they heard the grand
harmonies of heaven.
When the music had ended, the boy and the girl sat silent for many
minutes. Then Polly looked up and saw the witch standing before them,
and all her old fears returned.
"Well Polly," said the old woman, "are you still afraid of me?"
Then a magic spell was wrought. Polly looked in astonishment. The hag
had changed from an old withered thing to a very beautiful young woman.
"You thought that I was ugly, little girl. Now that you are feeling
better and happier I appear to you as wonderful as your own thoughts.
People always have the things they desire--that is, if they truly
desire them. We are what we make ourselves. No matter how crippled
or distorted we may be, still we may be happy and beautiful if we so
desire. Happiness is within and is not to be chased like a butterfly
and bagged."
Now Polly was not so sure that she liked the witch after all; in fact,
she wished that she would go away and leave them alone. In a moment the
woman changed to an ugly creature again. Polly started to run away but
the witch caught her up in her arms and hugged her close, and when she
was through the witch again became the lovely creature that she had
been a few moments ago.
"Now you must not think wicked thoughts," said she; "if you do, I shall
have to remain ugly. If you only knew how it hurts to be ugly I believe
you would try to be good, if only for my sake."
"Please, mother," pleaded the child, "if you forgive me this time I
shall always be good because I want to, both for your sake and because
I wish to be good. I am very much ashamed of myself."
[Illustration: ELEANOR HOWARD.]
Polly threw her arms around the good mother and hugged her. From that
hour, they became friends. And sitting down on the grass the good woman
explained the working of the tower.
"That spire," she said, "reaches to heaven and has millions
and millions of disks on its sides. These instruments are the
sound-receivers of the whole world. Every sound is magnified and made
sweeter by the condensers. Every prayer, every song, and every musical
note is caught here and made clearer and stronger. Every good deed done
is praised and every kind word reechoed."
"Did you say," inquired the girl, "that every angry word or wicked
prayer is retold on these bells? That would be terrible!" Polly was
thinking of her own naughty thoughts.
"Yes, my dear," answered the woman, "everything is heard here.
But the strange thing about the bells is that a wicked thing is a
thousand times reduced. These disks repeat everything good that is
said and throw it back to the poor old world to brighten the speaker
and the world itself. Good thoughts, too, are reflected and sent to
earth again to gladden human beings. Wicked things are detected and
examined, but only good things are sent to earth again."
Then the woman led the children a short distance from the tower and
asked them to listen.
"Oh! Oh!" screamed Polly, "I heard a bad word."
"Yes," explained the woman, "you heard that word before it reached the
bells; but if you were to listen, it would be so changed that you would
not recognize it. But let us go and see other things about the great
steeple."
She led them to the base of the building and showed them a
queer-looking register that worked like a modern adding machine. A
ribbon continually ran out of one end and was rolled on a big spool.
"This," explained the guide, "records every deed done by everybody in
the world. It is connected with the disks and never gets out of tune."
They examined the machine, and saw millions and millions of spools
slowly rolling as the minutes passed. There was a spool for each
individual that ever lived on earth. At every one's death his spool was
laid away in the great tower above.
"Isn't it wonderful?" exclaimed Polly. "I should like to see my spool,
dear mother."
The woman took the girl to the back of the machine and showed her her
own life-spool. The ribbon was very small, but the guide detached it
and gave it to the child to read. As she unwound it, she read: "I wish
that God would punish all the wicked people I know!" Polly dropped the
spool and hid her face: these were her own words.
"Do not feel badly, dear Polly," whispered the mother, "and do not look
now for any more bad records of yourself; but fill the rest of the
spool with good words and good deeds, and in the end your record will
be rewritten, made bright and clear." She then picked the girl up and
held her to her breast, kissing her tenderly.
At this moment Polly heard the disks ring out: "Polly!" and she cried,
"Goodie! Goodie!"
It was her mother calling her for breakfast. Polly sat up and rubbed
her eyes. "Oh, mamma--where is the mother witch? Where is Harry?"
Her mother looked puzzled at first, but she quickly realized that her
little daughter had been dreaming. "I'll be the mother witch, my dear,"
she said, "and we will find Harry some day soon."
MR. ROOSTER
IN a certain back yard lives a colony of most interesting chickens. You
could not imagine that feathered things would perform such capers as
they do.
One fine morning, after Mrs. Black Hen had spent a restless night on
the roost, she addressed Mrs. Brown Hen with these words:
"Do you know, Brownie, my husband snores, and I did not sleep a wink
last night!"
"Just to think of that! A snoring husband is a dreadful thing," Brownie
returned.
Brownie cackled all day from group to group about the snoring husband.
The gossip grew as the day advanced till all the hens were cackling and
exchanging winks and the rooster, thinking that the hens were laying
an unusual number of eggs, crowed with great zest. This amused the
hens very much, for, without knowing it, the rooster was making fun of
himself. He would have been extremely angry had he known the truth.
The poor hens cackled themselves into fits over the thing. It was so
funny!
The cook of the house to which the back yard belonged at once thought
that the poor creatures had "the gapes." Now the gapes is nearly always
fatal, but sometimes death may be averted by an application of red
pepper. No wonder the cook was mistaken, for by this time the hens were
rolling, kicking and cackling. The rooster was sitting on the fence
almost shouting his head off.
But when the cook ran out of the house and dosed every hen with Cayenne
pepper, the surprised chickens sprang to their feet and rushed about
madly. All the fun was gone. Some of them leaned against the coop and
gasped for breath, while others rushed for the watering trough.
During the performance, the rooster flew to the highest place possible
and screamed with delight, for he had at last gotten through his thick
head that the joke had been on him, but was now on his wives.
Oh, but the hens were mad! That evening they crept to bed with tears in
their little red eyes and vengeance in their small hearts. It had been
agreed to watch the old fellow and see if it was true that he was a
snorer. Not a hen slept that night.
All went as usual till about eleven o'clock, when suddenly the rooster
opened his mouth and screamed, "Cock-a-doodle-doooo!"
This was not really snoring, as you easily see, but a natural burst
of pride, praise and warning to keep the bogies away. Nevertheless,
the hens in their bad temper were no judges of any matter, let alone
snoring in the middle of the night. They nudged each other very wisely.
They had caught him at last and there were twenty witnesses. One
o'clock came and he repeated the same words. The hens were delighted,
for they would have their innings in the morning.
When morning came, the hens openly twitted the rooster about his
snoring. At first he paid little attention to their taunts, but as the
day wore on he became very much exasperated. The hens kept their own
quarters and refused to have anything to do with him, and he, manlike,
was determined to be near them. Whenever he came into their "midst," as
they chatted, they just left him there twiddling his fine wings. He was
much enraged and gave chase to many of them. Sometimes he almost caught
one; but when that was about to happen, the others pitched in and drove
him off very much crestfallen. The hens were wise enough that day to
stand together.
[Illustration: ELEANOR HOWARD.]
When all had retired as usual, the hens waited for the rooster to enter
their coop. But he did not come. Some suggested that they should go
in a body and compel his majesty to come home. He had never before
remained out all night, as some husbands do! They had a hard time
sleeping that night, for they greatly missed the rooster.
But the rooster sat all the while on the back fence vowing vengeance.
About three o'clock in the morning, when all was still, one of the hens
felt a sharp pain in her breast. She wakened and scrambled to her feet,
but was instantly dragged to the floor by a weasel. She screamed and
struggled to escape. The other hens joined in the clatter. It was with
the greatest difficulty that she escaped with her life.
The weasel fled when the noise became pronounced, for he was afraid of
a human. The poor hen was terribly wounded. Not a wink of sleep had
the hens the remainder of that night, and they were glad when the sun
rose. They sought the rooster and told the hard-hearted fellow the
awful story of the night raid, but he just opened his mouth and crowed
with pleasure. They were indignant and walked off and left him to his
laughs.
In the afternoon, when all was the quietest in Chickenville, the
rooster joined his wives and talked very seriously about what had
occurred. "Now," said he in conclusion, "this trouble has been brought
about through gossip. You have had your fun and I have had mine. The
best thing to do is to let bygones be bygones and all of us turn over a
new leaf."
The hens unwillingly consented, for the sun was setting and they feared
the night.
Since then Mr. Rooster has enjoyed great comfort, and whenever the hens
begin to gossip he opens his red mouth and screeches "RED PEPPER!"
THE MID-EARTH PEOPLE
UNCLE Rupert, the children's friend, had just returned from a wonderful
trip through the Orient and therefore had many startling things to
tell to his nephews and nieces. He was such a famous story-teller that
when he described anything the children actually thought they saw it
happening.
On the sunny afternoon of Easter day, the children begged their uncle
to take them to a park and tell them all about his trip. Uncle Rupert
was quite willing, and fifteen minutes later a dozen boys and girls,
accompanied by a big man, started on a street car to the park.
"I am not going to tell you anything now about my trip abroad,"
began Uncle Rupert when they reached their destination, "for this is
Eastertide and I wish to talk about Easter!"
"Oh! Oh!" cried the whole crowd, "Please don't! Tell us something more
interesting! We have had one sermon today, and it was--pretty dry."
Uncle Rupert smiled and, raising his head, began again: "I will let you
be the judges as to the dullness of so-called 'moral' stories after
we are through. If you are not satisfied, then I shall jump off this
cliff!"
With this assurance, twelve eager bodies sat in silence waiting for him
to begin.
"Are you all ready?" asked Uncle Rupert. "Then place your hands on your
knees. Now, Tom, do not crowd Madge. That is the right way; heads up
and eyes to the front. One, two, three and we are off."
"Here he is! See the little man? He is just coming out from a hole in
the ground, opposite you."