that now he showed every favor to the people in his neighborhood, and
even condescended to talk with the slaves. It was fairly late when one
of the most beautiful of the slave girls came up to Abu Hassan and
offered him a glass of the sweetest wine prepared especially for the
Caliph. Abu Hassan was charmed, and had not any suspicion that the
delicious mixture contained a potent sleeping powder. He drank it off,
and in a few minutes fell into a sound sleep.
As quickly as he was brought away the day before, just so speedily now
was he transported into his own dwelling. Next morning the Caliph for
One Day woke up again as Abu Hassan, and found himself in his old
circumstances. In spite of all his calls and shouts, neither the
slaves nor the court officers of yesterday hurried to him to ask his
wishes. He was sadly perplexed at first at this new change, but he
soon got over it, and consoled himself with thinking that at least he
had had a beautiful dream. When his mother told him that he had in
fact disappeared for a whole day, and when he also learned that the
Imam and his fellows had been punished exactly as he had ordered when
Caliph, he did not know what to think of the whole adventure at all.
Finally, he leaned to his mother's view, who explained it by saying
that some spirit had taken him away and had executed the Imam's
punishment. He was thankful indeed to be rid of his rascally
neighbors, but he could never give himself an explanation of what had
moved the spirit to help him. In the end, however, he put the whole
story out of his mind, and became again what he had been before--Queer
Abu Hassan, or the Caliph for One Day.
--_Arabian Nights._
THE FIRST POTTER
Ang was a mighty hunter and also a priest of Odin, but Oma was a
famous housewife or cave-wife, and not only Suta, the wife of Wang,
came to take lessons of her, but many other women who had heard of her
wonderful skill in cooking old food in new ways and discovering new
foods which the magic of the fire made palatable. She had learned not
merely how to cook the meat which Ang brought, but to dry it so that
it would keep for a long time. She discovered how to make a coarse
flour from nuts and acorns and to bake cakes on flat stones. At the
fire feast the cooking of Oma made as great an impression as the
wisdom and strength of Ang.
But her greatest discovery was the art of making pottery dishes out of
clay and baking them before the fire. For a long time women had made
baskets of reeds and willow twigs in which they could carry dry foods,
but the problem was to get something in which they could carry
liquids. Sometimes they used skin bottles, but they soon leaked and
the water rotted them out. Then some clever woman smeared the inside
of a closely woven basket with resinous pitch. Another lined her
baskets with clay and baked them in the sun, but water would soon
soften the clay. Then came Oma and the fire and the art of baking
clay. This is the way it happened. Oma had been lining some baskets
with clay, and little Om tried to imitate her. Since it was cold he
sat as near to the fire as he could, and after he had finished one, he
would put it on a stone near the fire until he had a row of them. Then
the wind changed suddenly and blew the fire towards him, and he had to
move quickly, leaving his clay baskets on the rock. He called to his
mother to get them, but she had no notion of getting burned for so
small a cause and she was too busy to bother, as mothers often are.
That night after Om had gone to sleep she sat by the fire with Ang,
and her eyes spied the little row of clay baskets. She picked one up
to show the father what a clever boy his son was getting to be. As she
touched the clay, she found it dry and hard as no clay she had ever
touched before. Some of the baskets were dry and crumbly, but two or
three in the center were hard as stone. A thought came to her. She ran
to the brook and filled the hardest with water and brought them back
to the fire. They did not soften or leak. Then she put them on a flat
stone and pushed them almost into the fire. Soon the water in them
began to bubble and steam.
"Look!" cried Oma. "At the touch of the Red One a little Cloud Spirit
goes up to the great Cloud Spirits that fly in the blue above us."
Then Ang knew that Odin had given a new gift. "This time the Red One
has spoken to you; what has he said?"
Oma carefully drew the little clay pots from the fire, and after they
had cooled she examined them. Two of them were cracked, but one was
firm and solid as if it had been cut from stone. She held it up before
Ang in triumph. "This is what we have been waiting for since the
beginning of time. The Red One has worked magic on the clay, and its
old enemy, the water, cannot eat through it."
The next day Oma made baskets lined with clay, and then, putting them
on flat stones, pushed them into the heat of the fire. Some of them
crumbled, but others baked hard and firm. As the heat burned off the
inclosing basket, the pattern was left molded on the clay.
After many experiments Oma learned just what clay to use and how to
bake it. And she made pots of all sizes and arranged them on ledges
of her cave and filled them with nuts and seeds. Then she learned how
to use the clay pots for cooking. In the old days she had placed
scraps of meat and bone and roots in a pitch-lined basket and then
added water and hot stones from the fire. Of course the pitch softened
and gave an unpleasant taste to the stew, and often the hot water
softened it so much that the basket became like a sieve. But now Oma
could mix her stews and brews and boil them until they were soft and
delicious, and the clay dish was just as good as before.
And Suta and other women came to look; and they wondered and tasted,
and smacked their lips, and asked how it was done, then went home to
do likewise. And the fame of Ang and Oma grew in the north land, and
men said, "They are loved by the Great One".
But if Oma made the first pottery and the most useful, Suta, wife of
Wang, made the most beautiful. After she had learned to bake the clay
so that neither fire nor water would harm it, she amused herself by
making dishes of queer shapes. Then she discovered it was not
necessary to make the basket molds, and that if she made marks on the
clay they would be baked in. She began by making a little row of nail
prints about the rim--((((((((((. Then she made rough pictures of
animals and men with a sharpened stick. And the fame of Suta went out
also through the north land, and they came from far away to see the
wonderful things which she had done. Others tried, but no one could
make such beautiful dishes as Suta.
Before the great fire feast an idea came to Suta like a dream in the
night, she knew not from where. She would make a great bowl for Odin and
she would mold on it pictures of his gifts, so that all who saw would
remember from whom the good things came. With great care she shaped a
bowl as high as a five-year-old child and so large that a grown man
could not circle it with his arms. On it she pictured the man who shot
the first deer with a stone-tipped arrow, the man who made the first
snare for the wild birds, the man who first crossed the deep water in a
hollowed log, Ang striking fire from the flints, Oma baking the clay
dishes. Then she hesitated. These and many things more the Great One had
given; what would He give next? What did she want most?
[Illustration: THE FIRST POTTER]
Now Suta was not like Ang or Wang or even like Oma. Wang had thought
sometimes that she was not so good a cook as Oma, and that she spent
too much time listening to the song of the birds and watching the play
of the light on the water and the woods and the far-off hills. She did
these things sometimes when he thought she ought to get wood for the
fire or cook something for him, and he grumbled a little. But now that
she made dishes of clay which no one else could make and all men said,
"What a fortunate man Wang is to have a woman that can make such
things!" Wang began to be very proud of her. He even went so far as to
get wood for the fire, which he did not think man's work.
And what did Suta the dreamer want? She did not want more food or more
clothes or a bigger cave; she wanted the power to mold in clay the
things she saw and loved. So she put on the great bowl for the
All-Father a picture of a woman, with her back turned on the lookers
and a sharpened stick in her hand, just ready to work the soft clay,
but waiting for the power to draw on clay the picture in her mind. It
was the first expression of the unsatisfied yearning of the artist for
beauty and the power to express it. For Suta was the mother of those
who love the beautiful and long to give it permanent form.
When the bowl for the Giver was finished, it was placed on a stone
foundation in front of the stone altar, which Ang and Wang had made.
At the feast it was filled with sparkling water from a spring near by,
and as the men danced about the fire they dipped their hands in it as
they passed by and sprinkled the water on the fire and on themselves
and sang:
Singing water of the brook,
Shining laughter of the wood,
Talking picture of the clay,
Earth and fire and water, all
Are voices of the Great.
All who saw the great bowl which Suta had made were filled with wonder,
and they wanted her to make something for them. Then the great idea came
to Wang. Now Wang was not so strong as Ang or so good a hunter, but he
wanted just as much to eat and just as warm furs to wear. He liked
better to sit talking with some crony in the shade in summer or by the
fire in winter. Talking and sitting were the two things of which he
never tired. Now when the world was young, such men went hungry and
cold, and Wang had done so often, and, more's the pity, Suta and little
Sut; but then came the idea. Every one wanted Suta's clay dishes; he
wanted deer's meat and bear's, and furs, and the choicest seeds and
nuts. He would barter the things which Suta made for the things he
wanted. Suta would do the work; others would bring food and furs and
fruits; he would sit in front of the cave and give as little of the
first for as much of the second as possible. And the idea worked. Suta
loved to mold the plastic clay and decorate it. Many wanted the things
which she had made, and Wang's wily tongue multiplied the number of
those who were willing to pay for what they wanted.
So Wang became the father of a long line of traders, and the Wang
family had more food than they could eat and more furs than they could
wear. Wang grew thick in the belly and thin in the calf, but it suited
him, and Suta was too busy with her clay to care. And Wang the trader
became almost as great a man as Ang the priest.
And Oma, wife of Ang, grew envious of Suta, wife of Wang. And she
grumbled to Ang: "Did not you find the Red One and bring Wang and Suta
so that they should not perish from the cold? Have you not fed them
with meat of your own hunting? Did not I learn from the Red One how to
harden and mold the clay? Did I not show Suta? Do I not work harder
than she? Am I not a better cook? Can I not make better coats of fur?
But see, little Sut has finer furs than Om and is fatter. And all who
come now pass by our cave, except at the great feasts, or when they
are sick and in trouble, and go to talk with Wang and look at Suta. Is
she so much better to look at than Oma?"
But Ang comforted her with wisdom that had come from long broodings
under the shadow of the Keeper of Secrets. "The Giver has differing
gifts. To the fire he gives one, to the water another, to the earth
another. To Suta he gave the love of beauty; to you he gave the love
of doing and making; and the joy of doing is greater than the joy of
having. To each her gifts as the Great One wills. And I would rather
be the man of Oma than of Suta." So Oma was comforted, though she
often sighed wistfully as she saw men and women go by to the cave of
Wang or watched Suta deftly mold some new thought into the yielding
clay.
--_From "Around the Fire", by Hanford M. Burr.
Courtesy of Association Press._
FINDING OPPOSITES
This drill will not only test your ability to follow printed
directions, but also your ability to exercise a careful choice of
words. Follow the directions very closely.
1. Arrange your paper with your name on the first and your grade on
the second line. Beginning with the fourth line, in the margin,
write the figures 1 to 10.
2. Below are ten sets of words. In each case, the first word is
followed by four other words, one of which is exactly opposite in
meaning to the first word. You are going to find these opposites.
Look at group one. HIGH is the first word. Of the four words that
follow it, which do you think is the exact opposite of HIGH? Of
course it is LOW. Write this pair of opposites after figure 1 on
your paper as follows:
1. HIGH LOW
3. After figure 2, write the second pair of opposites:
2. GREAT SMALL
Complete the exercise by selecting the opposites from each remaining
group, and writing them after the proper figure on your paper. When
you have finished put down your pencil and wait quietly for the
others.
1. HIGH (sky, low, above, deep).
2. GREAT (less, large, small, beautiful).
3. HILL (mountain, valley, high, river).
4. MANY (few, more, plenty, less).
5. GRADUAL (quick, slowly, sudden, degree).
6. WOUND (sword, nurse, heal, bind).
7. LIGHT (bright, sun, shadow, darkness).
8. STRAIGHT (long, uneven, twist, crooked).
9. LAND (plain, water, farm, river).
10. SPRING (fall, cool, October, green).
"IT'S QUITE TRUE!"
This story might have been named "Gossip". When you have read it
through, tell why this would be a good name for it.
You should all begin reading at the same moment. Your teacher will
divide you into three groups, as explained before the story on
page 106, and ask you the questions at the end of the story.
"That is a terrible affair!" said a Hen; and she said it in a quarter
of the town where the occurrence had not happened. "That is a terrible
affair in the poultry-house. I cannot sleep alone to-night! It is
quite fortunate that there are many of us on the roost together!" And
she told a tale, at which the feathers of the other birds stood on
end, and the cock's comb fell down flat. It's quite true!
But we will begin at the beginning; and the beginning begins in a
poultry-house in another part of the town. The sun went down, and the
fowls jumped up on their perch to roost. There was a Hen, with white
feathers and short legs, who laid her right number of eggs, and was a
respectable hen in every way; as she flew up on to the roost she
pecked herself with her beak, and a little feather fell out.
"There it goes!" said she; "the more I peck myself the handsomer I
grow!" And she said it quite merrily, for she was a joker among the
hens, though, as I have said, she was very respectable; and then she
went to sleep.
It was dark all around; hen sat by hen; but the one that sat next to
the merry hen did not sleep: she heard and she didn't hear, as one
should do in this world if one wishes to live in quiet; but she could
not refrain from telling it to her next neighbor.
"Did you hear what was said here just now? I name no names; but here
is a hen who wants to peck her feathers out to look well. If I were a
cock I should despise her." Then she too went to sleep.
And just above the hens sat the Owl, with her husband and her little
owlets; the family had sharp ears, and they all heard every word that
the neighboring Hen had spoken, and they rolled their eyes, and the
Mother-Owl clapped her wings and said:
"Don't listen to it! But I suppose you heard what was said there? I
heard it with my own ears, and one must hear much before one's ears
fall off. There is one among the fowls who has so completely forgotten
what is becoming conduct in a hen that she pulls out all her feathers,
and then lets the cock see her."
"Prenez garde aux enfants," said the Father-Owl. "That's not fit for
the children to hear."
"I'll tell it to the neighbor owl; she's a very proper owl to
associate with." And she flew away.
"Hoo! hoo! to-whoo!" they both screeched in front of the neighbor's
dovecote to the doves within. "Have you heard it? Have you heard it?
Hoo! hoo! there's a hen who has pulled out all her feathers for the
sake of the cock. She'll die with cold, if she not dead already."
"Coo! coo! Where, where?" cried the Pigeons.
"In the neighbor's poultry-yard. I've as good as seen it myself. It's
hardly proper to repeat the story, but it's quite true!"
"Believe it! believe every single word of it!" cooed the Pigeons, and
they cooed down into their own poultry-yard. "There's a hen, and some
say that there are two of them that have plucked out all their
feathers, that they may not look like the rest, and that they may
attract the cock's attention. That's a bold game, for one may catch
cold and die of a fever, and they are both dead."
"Wake up! wake up!" crowed the Cock, and he flew up on the plank; his
eyes were still very heavy with sleep, but yet he crowed. "Three hens
have died of an unfortunate attachment to a cock. They have plucked
out all their feathers. That's a terrible story. I won't keep it to
myself; let it travel farther."
"Let it travel farther!" piped the bats; and the fowls clucked and the
cocks crowed, "Let it go farther! let it go farther!" And so the story
traveled from poultry-yard to poultry-yard, and at last came back to
the place from which it had gone forth.
"Five fowls," it was told, "have plucked out all their feathers to show
which of them had become thinnest out of love to the cock; and then they
have pecked each other, and fallen down dead to the shame and disgrace
of their families, and to the great loss of the proprietor."
And the hen who had lost the little loose feather, of course did not
know her own story again; and as she was a very respectable hen, she
said:
"I despise those fowls; but there are many of that sort. One ought not
to hush up such a thing, and I shall do what I can that the story may
get into the papers, and then it will be spread over all the country,
and that will serve those fowls right, and their families too."
It was put into the newspaper; it was printed; and it's quite
true--_that one little feather may swell till it becomes five fowls_.
--_Hans Christian Andersen._
QUESTIONS
1. Are you in the same group you were the last time the class was
divided in this way?
2. What was the remark out of which all the gossip grew?
3. How may "one little feather become five fowls"?
TANGLED SENTENCES
This exercise is given to see if you can follow directions. Follow
each direction as you read it. Do not wait for others to start,
but begin now.
1. Arrange your paper with your name on the first line and your grade
on the second. At the left hand side of your paper number the next ten
lines from number 1 to number 10.
2. The words NAME IS A JOHN BOY'S do not make a good sentence, but if
the words are arranged in order they form a good sentence: JOHN IS A
BOY'S NAME. This sentence is true. In the same way, the words BOOKS
MADE OF IRON ARE, in this order do not make a good sentence, but
arranged in the right order they form a good sentence: BOOKS ARE MADE
OF IRON. This sentence is not true.
3. Here are ten groups of words which can be rearranged into good
sentences. When they are rearranged in their right order, some will be
true and some will be false. Look at the first set of words. Do not
write the words in their right order, but see what they would say if
rearranged. If what they would say is true, write the word _true_ after
figure 1 on your paper; but if what they would say is not true, write
the word _false_ after figure 1. Do this with each group of words.
1. Brazil for noted coffee is its
2. largest Rhode Island in the state is the Union
3. the John Hancock signed Independence Declaration of
4. sugar products and rice of are the South
5. Columbus the New York discovered of city
6. important San Francisco on city Pacific coast is an the
7. famous a William Tell American was
8. Camel tusks the has like an and elephant a trunk
9. return songbirds the spring time the in
10. snow Panama land of is a ice and
HOW SELLA LOST HER SLIPPERS
You have heard about the early peoples who found out how to use
tools, how to build fires, how to make clothes out of skins of
animals, and how to do all the other everyday things that once had
to be done for the very first time. Science has found out for us
the facts about how all these things were done first. But in the
old days, before there was any knowledge of science, people had to
explain such matters as best they could, by means of legends, such
as that of Prometheus, who, as you have heard, stole fire from
heaven. Here is a legend that suggests how water was first tamed
and made a servant of man.
In the days of old, when wonderful things happened, there lived in a
pleasant dwelling beside a brook in the forest a young girl named
Sella, a name which means "a shadow". Although she was very beautiful,
so that everyone admired her, she did not like to stay very much of
the time with other people. She liked better to gather flowers on the
bank of the stream, or to sit in the shade of a great rock listening
to the sweet murmur of the flowing water. It was her delight to wander
up the stream, tracing to the source in the mountains each of the
little brooks that fed the larger one. She knew every little spring
that stole forth from under a hanging rock, and every little rill that
came trickling down the bare hillside. Often she rowed her little boat
out on the lake or on the wide river into which the stream ran.
In the days when Sella lived girls were not taught anything except the
things that it was thought belonged to woman's place, such as sewing,
the keeping of the house, and the art of making one's self charming
and agreeable. For a girl to go out into the world to make her own way
as girls do now was an unheard-of thing. Girls must stay at home and
leave adventure to the men of the family. Sella was not at all
contented with such an arrangement. She looked at her two brothers
enviously, thinking, "If I were only a boy, I could follow the river
down to the sea and see all the strange peoples and customs in other
parts of the world. I should like to see what kind of houses they
have, and how they build their stately ships, what kind of flowers
grow in their gardens, and what fruits ripen in their orchards. Here
men make their living by raising sheep, but there I hear they sprinkle
the great plains with corn, which springs up and ripens and is
harvested to give bread to all the nations. I long to see all these
things, and I would have seen them, long ago, if I were not so unlucky
as to be a girl."
One morning in early spring Sella came to her mother in breathless
excitement. "See, mother dear," she said, "what I have found on the
bank of the stream!" And she showed a pair of white slippers, spangled
and embroidered in silver. "See, my name is worked on the edge; and
just look, mother, they fit me!"
"To be sure, they are very dainty," said her prudent mother. "But they
do not belong to you. Perhaps some careless passer-by dropped them
there, or perhaps they were put there as a snare to lead you into
harm. I don't like the look of the letters embroidered on them; they
don't seem to me to spell your name, but rather to look like magic
signs that may work you evil. Nay, daughter, you must not wear them."
So Sella hung the slippers in the porch, so that anyone who had lost
them could see them as she passed by. No one claimed them, however. At
last, one day in May, Sella did not appear at the noonday meal. They
looked for her in all her favorite places and shouted her name
through the woods, but all in vain. At night they went out with
torches still seeking her. All the next day they searched, climbing
high into the mountains. Towards evening of the second day, when they
had given up hope, suddenly Sella appeared at her mother's side where
she sat alone and sad.