making a fan of his tail, and skirts of his wings, strutted up to her
and, stretching out his neck said, “Little Mother, we know what your
thoughts and wishes are and we are truly sorry for you. We wish that
you, like all the other people of the village, might enjoy this holiday.
Many times we have said to ourselves at night, after you had safely
placed us in our house, that you are as worthy to enjoy these gayeties
as anyone in the village. Little Mother, would you like to see this
dance and even join in it and be merry with the rest?”
The poor child was at first surprised, then it all seemed so very
natural that her turkeys should talk to her as she had always done to
them, that she looked up and said, “My dear Gobbler, how glad I am that
we may speak together. But tell me what it all means.”
“Listen well, then, for I speak the speech of my people. If you will
drive us in early this afternoon, when the dance is most gay and the
people are happiest, we will help you to make yourself so pretty and so
beautifully dressed that no man, woman, or child among all those
assembled at the dance will know you. Are you willing to do as we
turkeys say?”
“Oh, my dear turkeys, why should you tell me of things that you well
know I long to do but cannot by any possible means in the world?”
“Trust in us,” said the old gobbler. “When we begin to call and gobble
and gobble and turn toward home, follow us and we will show you what we
can do for you: Only let me tell you one thing. Much happiness and good
fortune may come to you through the chance for pleasure which we turkeys
are going to give you. But if, through your own great happiness, you
forget us, who are your friends and who depend so much upon you, we
shall think that our Little Mother, though so humble and poor, deserves
her hard life. We shall think that, since good fortune came to her, she
does unto others as others now do to her.”
“Come, then,” said the old gobbler, and the little girl followed him.
All the turkeys of their own accord followed the old gobbler and their
Little Mother homeward. They knew their places well and ran to them as
soon as they could. When they had all gone into their home the old
gobbler called out, “Come in.” The little girl went in. “Now sit down
and give me and my companions your articles of clothing one by one. You
will see what we can do with them.”
The little girl took off the ragged old shawl that covered her shoulders
and laid it upon the ground in front of the old gobbler. He seized it in
his beak and spread it out. Then he picked and picked at it and trod
upon it, and, lowering his wings, strutted back and forth, back and
forth over the old worn-out garment. Once more he took it in his beak
and strutted and puffed and puffed and strutted, until he finally laid
it at the feet of the little girl—a beautiful white cloak, all
silk-embroidered.
Then another gobbler came forward and took an article of the little
girl’s clothing which he made over into a beautiful gown of golden
cloth. Then another gobbler came, and another and another, until each
garment the little girl had worn was new and more beautiful than any
owned by the richest woman of the land.
The little girl began to dress herself in the beautiful clothes, but
before she finished her turkeys circled around her, singing and singing
and clucking and clucking, and brushing her with their wings until she
was clean and her face was as smooth and bright as that of the fairest
maiden in the village. Her hair was soft and wavy and her cheeks were
full of dimples and her eyes danced with smiles, for now she knew how
true were the words of her beloved turkeys. At last one old turkey came
forward and said, “You shall have rich jewels, Little Mother; we turkeys
have keen eyes and have picked up many valuable things in our
wanderings. Wait a moment.” He spread out his wings and strutted off,
but he soon returned with a beautiful necklace in his beak. “See, this
is for you.” The little girl could scarcely believe her own eyes. “And
this, too,” said another turkey, as he came up and laid a pair of
earrings in her hand.
With these beautiful things the Little Mother decorated herself and,
after thanking her beloved turkeys again and again, she started to go.
As she did so all the turkeys seemed to call out in one voice: “Oh,
Little Mother, we love you and we would bring you to good fortune. Leave
our door open, for who knows whether you will remember your turkeys when
your fortunes are changed. Perhaps you will grow ashamed that you have
been our Little Mother. Remember us and do not tarry too long.”
“I will surely remember, O my turkeys,” and with that she was on her way
to the great festival. Hastily she ran down the river path toward the
village until she came to a long covered way that led into the great
dance court. When she came just inside the court she could see the crowd
of villagers making merry in the great dance. She drew nearer as if to
join the others, when every eye at once seemed to catch sight of her
beauty and the richness of her dress. “Who is this beautiful maiden?”
they asked one another. “Where did she come from?”
“She is the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen,” said a prince. “She
shall lead the dance with me.”
With a smile and a toss of her hair over her eyes the little girl
accepted the prince’s invitation and stepped forward into the circle.
Her heart became light and her feet merry, and she danced and danced
until the sun sank low in the west. But alas! so great was her own
happiness that she thought little about her turkeys at home and her
promise to them. “Why should I go away from all this pleasure, to my
flock of gobbling turkeys?” she said to herself. “I will stay a little
longer at least. Just before the sun sets I’ll run back to them. Then
these people will never know who I am, and I shall like to hear them
talk day after day and wonder who the little girl was who joined in
their dance.”
So the time sped on and another dance was called, and another, and never
a moment did the little girl stop. At last she noticed that the sun had
set. Then, suddenly breaking away, she ran out of the dance court down
the long covered way, up the river path toward home, before any one
could see where she had gone or which path she had taken. All
breathless, she arrived at the door of the turkeys’ house and looked in.
Not one turkey was there. The little girl called and called them. She
ran into their house, she looked around, but not one of her beloved
turkeys was to be seen. “Where are they?” she kept saying to herself, at
the same time calling them with all the voice she had, “Come my turkeys,
come, come.” But there was no answer. “I must trail them. Perhaps they
have gone back to the plains.” She ran to the plains, then on to the
valley, but her flock of turkeys was far, far away.
After a long, long trail over the plains, up and down the valleys, she
came within sound of their voices. “I hear them, I hear my turkeys.”
Faster and faster ran the little girl until she caught sight of her
beloved flock hurrying away toward the woods, round the mountain and on
up the valley. She could hear them saying something over and over again.
As she drew nearer she called and called to them, but it was all of no
use. They only quickened their steps and spread their wings to help them
along. “She has forgotten us,” they kept saying. “She is not worthy of
better things than those she has been accustomed to. Let us go to the
mountains. Our Little Mother is not as good and true as we once thought
her.” Then they spread their wings and fluttered away over the plains
above and were soon lost from sight. The poor little turkey girl put her
hands over her face, then she looked down at her dress. Alas! what did
she see? Her old clothes, patched and tattered. She was a poor little
turkey girl again. Sad at heart she looked toward the valley and gave
one loud call, “Oh, my turkeys come back to me, come back.”
“Gobble, gobble, gobble,” she heard beside her. The poor little girl sat
up, rubbed her eyes and looked about her. There were her beloved turkeys
gathered around her calling “Gobble, gobble, gobble!” They wanted to go
home, for the sun was ready to set and the village people were returning
from the festival.
“Oh, my beloved turkeys,” said the little girl, when she understood it
all. “I would not part with you for all the fine dresses and festivals
in the whole world. How glad I am it was only a dream!”
[Illustration]
MEADOW FIDDLERS
The red-legged locust. Oh, my, oh, my!
He plays all day. But why? But why?
You rub your legs with your dusty wings;
Your fiddle shrieks till the welkin rings;
On meadow green, through the livelong day,
You saw and eat till they’re bare and gray
Zee-e-e, zee-e-, zee-e-e!
The green katydid. Dear me, dear me!
The finest chap. Just see, just see;
You play so hard and you trill so long,
Your midget wife ne’er can sing a song,
Still you rub your wings in the drollest way
While dancing clover blossoms swing and sway
Zig, zig, z-i-g, zig, zig, z-i-g!
Cone-headed grasshopper, zip-zee, zip-zee,
The insects’ clown is he, is he!
From Maine o’er plains to the Rockies found,
With foolscap forehead and shrilling sound,
From bush and bramble your roundelay
Comes sharp and clear through the summer day,
Z-szip-zee. Z-szip, z-szip-zee!
The wee tree cricket. So free, so free!
Sings night and day! What glee, what glee!
Your high held wings make such presto fine
No human skill can compare with thine;
So fast, so shrill, and so wondrous gay,
Such tunes are joy to a dancing fay,
T-ree-ee, t-re-ee, t-re-ee! T-re-ee, t-re-ee, t-re-ee!
Sweet meadow fiddlers, zip, zee, zip, zee!
They fill the earth with glee, with glee!
We greet your coming with fond delight
And gayly hie in the sunshine bright,
Where bees and blossoms and birds all day
Wing, swing, and sing to your joyful lay.
Zip-zip-z-ee! zip-zip-z-ee!
CASTLE FORTUNE
One fine morning at sunrise, two strong young men were sauntering along
through the fields. As they journeyed toward the east the gray morning
mist cleared away in the distance, and there on a very high hill stood a
beautiful castle with sparkling windows and glistening towers all bathed
in the morning light.
“Come,” said one of the youths eagerly, “let us go over to it!”
“What!” exclaimed the other, who was a lazy fellow, “do you not know
that it is miles away? I am sure I cannot walk so far.”
“Try,” said a sweet strange voice.
On turning about they saw a lovely fairy dressed in gauzy white, holding
a golden wand in her hand. She was standing on a magic crystal ball
which rolled along with her toward the distant castle. As she passed the
travelers, she pointed with her wand toward the east smilingly, and
said, “Follow me!”
“That would be easy to do,” mumbled the lazy youth, “if one could roll
along as you do with no effort.” He then threw himself down on the grass
to rest.
His companion, however, started off after the fairy as fast as he could
run, and catching hold of her floating robe he cried, “Who are you?”
“I am Fortune,” she answered. “Yonder is my castle. Follow me there.
Waste no time, and if you reach the castle before midnight I’ll receive
you as a friend. But remember! If you come one moment after the last
stroke of midnight, the door will be closed against you.”
With these words the fairy drew her robe about her and rolled swiftly on
in the morning breeze. And the crystal ball sparkled, sparkled in the
sunlight.
The youth now hurried back to his companion and said breathlessly,
“Yonder is the Castle of Fortune. Come! Let us go!”
“What nonsense!” said the lazy youth. “With a good horse one might get
there easily, but for my part I don’t intend to try to walk all that
way.”
“Farewell, then,” said his friend, and away he started briskly with his
eyes fixed steadily on the distant towers. The lazy youth sighed wearily
and threw himself down on the soft grass. “If only good luck would show
me an easy way to get there,” he murmured. “How beautiful the castle
looks!” He then stretched himself out and fell fast asleep. In a little
while he was awakened by something like a warm breeze blowing in his
ear. He slowly rubbed his eyes and yawned aloud. Then he heard the
neighing of a horse, and turning, he saw standing near a beautiful milk
white steed all saddled and bridled!
“Good luck,” he cried. “Come here, my fine friend. You and I will soon
reach the castle.” Then he jumped into the saddle and started off at a
fine gait.
He soon passed his comrade and called out, “What do you think of my
steed?”
The other did not speak, but nodded cheerily and kept on at a steady
pace.
About midday the horse and rider reached the summit of a hill. In the
distance the castle towers shone brightly against the clear blue sky.
Presently the horse turned into a shady grove on the hillside and
stopped.
“A very good idea!” exclaimed the lazy man. “‘Make haste slowly’ is good
wisdom. This shady slope is a fine place to rest awhile, and my appetite
is keen enough to enjoy the luncheon I have in my pocket.” So, jumping
off, he found a cool shady nook and stretched himself out on the grass.
After he had eaten his savory sandwich he felt so drowsy that he soon
fell into a sound sleep. What a pleasant sleep he had! He dreamed he was
in Castle Fortune resting on downy cushions. Every wish he had was
granted! Soft strains of music soothed him, while brilliant fireworks
all crimson and gold were set off in his honor. This continued for some
time, when suddenly the explosion of a beautiful Roman candle awoke him.
He sat up rubbing his eyes. In the west the sun was sinking, and he
could hear the song of a traveler in the valley below! “I must have been
asleep a long while!” he murmured. “It is high time to be off. Ready, my
steed! Where are you?”
He whistled and shouted again and again, but no steed came. An old bony
gray donkey browsing on the hilltop was the only creature in sight.
“Better a donkey than nothing,” the lazy man thought. So he walked
slowly over to the place where the beast was grazing, and mounted him.
After some urging, the donkey set off at a slow jog. The lazy man soon
found that this kind of traveling was very uncomfortable. The donkey
trudged slowly on. Soon it began to grow dark. In the distance he could
see that the castle was being lighted up. How beautiful it looked. He
was becoming anxious. If only the donkey would move a little faster. But
instead he seemed to be going slower and slower, slower and slower,
until in the midst of a thick wood the beast stood still and refused to
move. The rider coaxed and threatened and urged and kicked. It was of no
use. The donkey refused to move. At last the lazy man was thoroughly
aroused. He struck the beast a hard blow with his fist, screaming, “Get
on, I say.” Up went the donkey’s heels and over his head into the briers
and stones went the rider. What a plight to be in! He was bruised and
sore and bewildered. He sat up and tried to collect his thoughts. Ah!
There in the distance the lights were shining in Castle Fortune. Oh, for
a soft comfortable couch on which to rest his aching bones. The stubborn
old donkey! Where could he be?
He crept about in every direction, hoping to find his donkey, but after
tearing his clothes and bruising himself he gave up the search. Suddenly
his hand struck something that felt a little like a saddle. It was
mounted on something soft and slimy.
He hesitated. Castle Fortune’s clock was striking. He counted the
strokes. “Eleven o’clock!” he exclaimed in amazement. He threw himself
into the queer saddle. “This is rather comfortable,” he exclaimed as he
leaned against a high back. How slowly the creature moved. At last they
reached a clearing, where a long straight road led directly to Castle
Fortune with its beautiful towers and its windows ablaze with lights.
The sight of the castle filled him with longing. He turned his attention
for a minute to the strange creature he was riding. Horror! He was
mounted on a huge snail, quite as large as a calf. No wonder they had
crept along at a snail’s pace.
One! The great clock struck the first stroke of the midnight hour. He
pushed both heels into his steed’s soft sides. In an instant the snail
drew his head into the shell and rolled over on the ground.
Two! struck the great clock. Had the lazy man taken to his heels he
might even now have reached the castle before the last stroke of the
great clock. But no! There he stood filled with regret and fear. “A
beast! A beast!” he cried, “Oh, for any kind of a beast to carry me to
the castle!”
Three! What was moving near him? Was it the long lost steed? Without
further thought he jumped into something like a low saddle. His heart
leaped as he looked up! There in the open door of Castle Fortune stood
his friend waving his cap and beckoning to him.
Four! chimed the great clock. The queer steed began to rouse himself.
Five! The creature moved slowly forward.
Six! What an awkward steed it was.
Seven! Which way were they going?
Eight! What! Were they moving backward? Impossible! He would jump off
and run.
Nine! To our rider’s great surprise he found he was held fast by the
creature’s claws which extended on all sides. Horror! He was riding on a
giant crab!
Ten! Backward they moved!
Eleven! Farther and farther they were going away from the castle.
TWELVE! The castle doors shut with a clang. Castle Fortune’s doors were
closed forever to the lazy man.
A LITTLE DUTCH GARDEN
[Illustration]
I passed by a garden, a little Dutch garden,
Where useful and pretty things grew;
Heartsease and tomatoes, and pinks and potatoes,
And lilies and onions and rue.
I saw in that garden, that little Dutch garden,
A chubby Dutch man with a spade;
And a rosy Dutch frau with a shoe like a scow,
And a flaxen-haired little Dutch maid.
There grew in that garden, that little Dutch garden,
Blue flag flowers lovely and tall;
And early blush roses, and little pink posies,
And Gretchen was fairer than all.
My heart’s in that garden, that little Dutch garden,
It tumbled right in as I passed,
‘Mid ‘wildering mazes of spinach and daisies,
And Gretchen is holding it fast.
[Illustration]
TRUE FRIENDSHIP
Down yonder by the thrashing floors, where the husbandmen thrash out
their corn, some large black ants once established themselves and built
their nests. They settled themselves in that place in order to be near
good and wholesome food, such as wheat, barley, and maize, which they
carried off whether the farmers liked it or not.
These ants prospered and became so numerous that they formed themselves
into a kingdom, and had their own king.
The king, who was an old ant, was very wise and courageous. As he was a
real king, he wore a golden crown upon his head and held a golden
scepter in his hand.
His crown was a small piece of round gold wire, which fitted his head
splendidly. His soldiers in one of their raids had found it in a country
maiden’s casket. They took possession of it, and presented it to their
sovereign. In the same way they had come across the scepter, which they
saw one day on the thrashing floor, and appropriated in like manner. It
was nothing more than a little gold watch key which had dropped off the
chain of the village steward, but that was of no consequence, because as
soon as the royal hand grasped it, it derived value from that
circumstance alone.
The king had his own carriage. It was made out of a nutshell, and was
drawn by two swift and well-harnessed beetles, who, like all royal
horses, were well trained. The king generally drove out, because his
majesty was now so aged that he had become quite white and feeble.
So you see that he had every blessing, and his people loved him very
much. But he was not happy for he was weary and no longer found pleasure
in anything. Perhaps this was because he had so much.
One day there was a great tumult in the ant kingdom. A regiment of
soldiers, which had gone out upon an excursion, returned after a
brilliant victory, and brought back great spoils, and also four
prisoners.
The king, from the balcony of his palace, with his crown on his head and
his scepter in his hand, greeted his army as it marched before him in
great order, saluting him with, “Long live the King!” Then he ordered
that the four prisoners should be brought before him, that he might try
them.
The first captive was a spider.
“What is your name?” asked the king.
“Spider,” she answered humbly, and did homage with her two forelegs.
“Where were you born?” said the king.
“I was born in the mill’s dark cellar.”
After many other questions the king again said, “What art do you know?”
“I know how to weave,” said the spider. “No one can surpass me in
weaving. I am the very, very best weaver in the whole wide world.”
“Good!” said the king. “You shall weave some cloth for my palace, and if
your work is satisfactory, I will set you free; if not, I shall hand you
over to my soldiers to be cut to pieces. Shut her up in prison and let
her begin at once.”
As the king decreed this, he lowered his scepter and struck it on the
ground, when immediately soldiers dragged off the spider by her feet,
and put her in a cell.
The second prisoner, which was a bee, was then brought forward. The king
in like manner questioned her. She said her name was “Bee,” and did him
obeisance. Upon his inquiring where she was born, she replied, “In a
hive, which was a house built for a number of bees to live in.”
“Do you know any trade or profession?” inquired the king.
“Certainly, your majesty, I know how to make a most delicious food. No
one can excel me.”
“Good!” said the king. “You shall make all the sweetmeats that are
required at the forthcoming festival, when the peasants spread their
thrashing floors. If I am pleased with them, I shall release you; but if
not, I shall order my soldiers to cut off your head. Shut her up in
prison, and let her begin at once.”
Again he knocked with his scepter, and the detachment of soldiers led
the bee off to prison. Then the king said: “Bring in the two other
prisoners together, that we may finish with them; for I have other
business of the kingdom on hand.”
The third and fourth captives were brought in together. One was a
grasshopper, and the other a cricket.
When they were asked the customary questions as to their places of
birth, the first replied, “At the roots of a bush of thyme.” And the
other, “In the air!”
Then the king proceeded with: “And what arts do you know?”
“I know how to sing,” cried the cricket.
“And I, how to dance,” said the grasshopper.
“Splendid arts, truly, both the one and the other,” called out the king
in a rage, and he knocked with his scepter so loudly that all his
courtiers and soldiers, as well as the two prisoners, were frightened.
“Since you know nothing, you are plainly of no use. I shall have you cut
up, the pair of you.”
“Please, your majesty,” said the cricket boldly, while the grasshopper
trembled with fear, “can we do nothing? Do we know nothing? Because this
lady and myself cannot weave like the spider or make sweetmeats like the
bee? We are worthy people, and the whole world loves us. We amuse all
the insects on both hill and plain; we make life in the long summer days
when the sun is hot a little less wearisome; then I sing, and she
dances, and for those who see and hear us time soon passes. Allow us the
same privilege before your majesty, and you can then judge if we be
deserving of freedom or death.”
The king was not hard-hearted, and after hearing this plea of the
cricket, he said, “I grant your request. I have a little time in which
to divert myself, and if you can succeed in giving me pleasure in a
short space of time, I will give you both your liberty, and grant you
each any favor that you may ask.”
He gave orders to release them. The cricket then began to sing with all
the skill that she possessed, and the grasshopper danced at the same
time. Neither the king nor any of his courtiers or soldiers had ever
heard so sweet a voice, or seen so artistic a dance. His majesty was
delighted; his old face beamed all over, and he struck merrily with his
scepter, and shouted: “Well done! Bravo! I’ll free you—I’ll free you. I
only request that whenever you have the time or the inclination, you
will come and amuse me and my subjects a little. Labor is good, but life
wants some few pleasures also. I told you that I would grant you any
favor that you asked for. Ask now what you will.” Then the cricket said
pleadingly, “Your majesty, I ask this favor—that the poor spider may be
released.”
“You have a good heart,” answered the king; “be it so.” And he turned to
the grasshopper. “And what favor do you ask, madam dancer?”
“May it please your majesty to release the bee?”
“And you, too, have a good heart; your wish is granted.” And the king
ordered the release of the prisoners.