(ea gle)
ea ger
(h ush)
cr ush
mo ment
quar rel
coun try
(r ope)
h ope
(m ean)
b ean
gur gling
four
pour ing
sew ed
hul lo
cru el
tor rent
both er
a las
in stant ly
Once upon a time there was a poor old woman living in a village of a far
country. She had gathered some beans and was making ready to cook them.
She built a fire of sticks, but, as these were damp, they did not burn
well. So she thrust in a handful of dry straw. Now the flames leaped up,
and the sticks snapped and crackled in the blaze.
A live red coal flew out of the fire, fell on the ground beside a straw,
and lay there smoking. Just then a bean dropped from the pot which the
old woman was filling, rolled away, and came to rest close to the coal
and the straw.
[Illustration]
“Hullo, Mr. Coal,” said the straw. “How you smoke! Are you frightened?
Where did you come from?”
“I just sprang out of that fire,” answered the coal. “Had I not jumped
just as I did, I should now be nothing but ashes. My, look at that
blaze!”
[Illustration]
“I, too, jumped in the nick of time,” spoke up the bean. “That cruel old
woman was just pouring me into the pot when I leaped over the edge, and
here I am.”
“Yes, here you are, silly thing,” broke out the coal and the straw
together. “But what are you going to do? As soon as the old woman turns
around she will spy you, then back you’ll go into the pot. It’s hotter
now than when you left it.”
“Don’t bother about me; think of yourselves,” answered the bean, angrily.
“When the old woman picks me up, she’ll tread on you, Mr. Coal, and crush
your life out. And you, Mrs. Straw, she’ll stick into the blaze. It’s
hotter there than in the pot.”
“Come, come,” said the straw, softly, “let’s not quarrel. Let’s be
friends and stick together. Perhaps we can save ourselves yet.”
“You are quite right, Mrs. Straw,” said the coal.
The bean said nothing, but she listened eagerly to the plans of the two
others. These soon agreed to travel together to a far country, where they
hoped to find their fortune. They set out without delay, and the bean
rolled along behind.
Soon the three travelers came to a little gurgling brook. It seemed to
them a mighty rushing and roaring torrent.
“Oh, dear, what shall we do now?” asked the bean, speaking for the first
time since the journey began. “We can never get across these awful
waters. Hear them thunder down the rocky cliffs!”
“Don’t worry, little Bean,” said the straw, proudly. “I’ll help you and
Mr. Coal across in a twinkling.”
Thereupon the straw laid herself across the stream. She was just long
enough to reach from bank to bank.
“Now walk over the bridge, Mr. Coal and Miss Bean,” called the straw.
The coal hastened on to the straw bridge while the bean watched in
wonder. All went well until the middle of the stream was reached, when
the bridge bent so low under the weight of the coal and the waters
thundered so loudly that the coal stopped in fright.
The coal stood still for only a moment. But, alas, that was a moment too
long.
The dry straw smoked, burst into a tiny flame, and broke in two. Down
fell the coal into the water below and was instantly drowned. The burning
straw bridge also fell into the water, which put out the flames, and the
two pieces of straw went floating away down stream.
[Illustration]
All this the little bean saw, watching safely from the bank. And she
thought it the funniest thing that ever happened. So she laughed and she
laughed—until she burst!
This would have been the end of little Miss Bean, had not a tailor passed
that way just then. He was sorry for the poor bean, so he picked up the
two parts tenderly, and quickly sewed them together. But the thread that
he used was black. And ever since that time some beans have a black seam
around them.
[Illustration]