THE TONGUE-CUT SPARROW

Long, long ago in Japan there lived an old man and his wife. The old

man was a good, kind-hearted, hard-working old fellow, but his wife was

a regular cross-patch, who spoiled the happiness of her home by her

scolding tongue. She was always grumbling about something from morning

to night. The old man had for a long time ceased to take any notice of

her crossness. He was out most of the day at work in the fields, and as

he had no child, for his amusement when he came home, he kept a tame

sparrow. He loved the little bird just as much as if she had been his

child.

When he came back at night after his hard day’s work in the open air it

was his only pleasure to pet the sparrow, to talk to her and to teach

her little tricks, which she learned very quickly. The old man would

open her cage and let her fly about the room, and they would play

together. Then when supper-time came, he always saved some tit-bits

from his meal with which to feed his little bird.

Now one day the old man went out to chop wood in the forest, and the

old woman stopped at home to wash clothes. The day before, she had made

some starch, and now when she came to look for it, it was all gone; the

bowl which she had filled full yesterday was quite empty.

While she was wondering who could have used or stolen the starch, down

flew the pet sparrow, and bowing her little feathered head—a trick

which she had been taught by her master—the pretty bird chirped and

said:

“It is I who have taken the starch. I thought it was some food put out

for me in that basin, and I ate it all. If I have made a mistake I beg

you to forgive me! tweet, tweet, tweet!”

You see from this that the sparrow was a truthful bird, and the old

woman ought to have been willing to forgive her at once when she asked

her pardon so nicely. But not so.

The old woman had never loved the sparrow, and had often quarreled with

her husband for keeping what she called a dirty bird about the house,

saying that it only made extra work for her. Now she was only too

delighted to have some cause of complaint against the pet. She scolded

and even cursed the poor little bird for her bad behavior, and not

content with using these harsh, unfeeling words, in a fit of rage she

seized the sparrow—who all this time had spread out her wings and bowed

her head before the old woman, to show how sorry she was—and fetched

the scissors and cut off the poor little bird’s tongue.

“I suppose you took my starch with that tongue! Now you may see what it

is like to go without it!” And with these dreadful words she drove the

bird away, not caring in the least what might happen to it and without

the smallest pity for its suffering, so unkind was she!

The old woman, after she had driven the sparrow away, made some more

rice-paste, grumbling all the time at the trouble, and after starching

all her clothes, spread the things on boards to dry in the sun, instead

of ironing them as they do in England.

In the evening the old man came home. As usual, on the way back he

looked forward to the time when he should reach his gate and see his

pet come flying and chirping to meet him, ruffling out her feathers to

show her joy, and at last coming to rest on his shoulder. But to-night

the old man was very disappointed, for not even the shadow of his dear

sparrow was to be seen.

He quickened his steps, hastily drew off his straw sandals, and stepped

on to the veranda. Still no sparrow was to be seen. He now felt sure

that his wife, in one of her cross tempers, had shut the sparrow up in

its cage. So he called her and said anxiously:

“Where is Suzume San (Miss Sparrow) today?”

The old woman pretended not to know at first, and answered:

“Your sparrow? I am sure I don’t know. Now I come to think of it, I

haven’t seen her all the afternoon. I shouldn’t wonder if the

ungrateful bird had flown away and left you after all your petting!”

But at last, when the old man gave her no peace, but asked her again

and again, insisting that she must know what had happened to his pet,

she confessed all. She told him crossly how the sparrow had eaten the

rice-paste she had specially made for starching her clothes, and how

when the sparrow had confessed to what she had done, in great anger she

had taken her scissors and cut out her tongue, and how finally she had

driven the bird away and forbidden her to return to the house again.

Then the old woman showed her husband the sparrow’s tongue, saying:

“Here is the tongue I cut off! Horrid little bird, why did it eat all

my starch?”

“How could you be so cruel? Oh! how could you so cruel?” was all that

the old man could answer. He was too kind-hearted to punish his be

shrew of a wife, but he was terribly distressed at what had happened to

his poor little sparrow.

“What a dreadful misfortune for my poor Suzume San to lose her tongue!”

he said to himself. “She won’t be able to chirp any more, and surely

the pain of the cutting of it out in that rough way must have made her

ill! Is there nothing to be done?”

The old man shed many tears after his cross wife had gone to sleep.

While he wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his cotton robe, a

bright thought comforted him: he would go and look for the sparrow on

the morrow. Having decided this he was able to go to sleep at last.

The next morning he rose early, as soon as ever the day broke, and

snatching a hasty breakfast, started out over the hills and through the

woods, stopping at every clump of bamboos to cry:

“Where, oh where does my tongue-cut sparrow stay? Where, oh where, does

my tongue-cut sparrow stay!”

He never stopped to rest for his noonday meal, and it was far on in the

afternoon when he found himself near a large bamboo wood. Bamboo groves

are the favorite haunts of sparrows, and there sure enough at the edge

of the wood he saw his own dear sparrow waiting to welcome him. He

could hardly believe his eyes for joy, and ran forward quickly to greet

her. She bowed her little head and went through a number of the tricks

her master had taught her, to show her pleasure at seeing her old

friend again, and, wonderful to relate, she could talk as of old. The

old man told her how sorry he was for all that had happened, and

inquired after her tongue, wondering how she could speak so well

without it. Then the sparrow opened her beak and showed him that a new

tongue had grown in place of the old one, and begged him not to think

any more about the past, for she was quite well now. Then the old man

knew that his sparrow was a fairy, and no common bird. It would be

difficult to exaggerate the old man’s rejoicing now. He forgot all his

troubles, he forgot even how tired he was, for he had found his lost

sparrow, and instead of being ill and without a tongue as he had feared

and expected to find her, she was well and happy and with a new tongue,

and without a sign of the ill-treatment she had received from his wife.

And above all she was a fairy.

The sparrow asked him to follow her, and flying before him she led him

to a beautiful house in the heart of the bamboo grove. The old man was

utterly astonished when he entered the house to find what a beautiful

place it was. It was built of the whitest wood, the soft cream-colored

mats which took the place of carpets were the finest he had ever seen,

and the cushions that the sparrow brought out for him to sit on were

made of the finest silk and crape. Beautiful vases and lacquer boxes

adorned the tokonoma[1] of every room.

[1] An alcove where precious objects are displayed.

The sparrow led the old man to the place of honor, and then, taking her

place at a humble distance, she thanked him with many polite bows for

all the kindness he had shown her for many long years.

Then the Lady Sparrow, as we will now call her, introduced all her

family to the old man. This done, her daughters, robed in dainty crape

gowns, brought in on beautiful old-fashioned trays a feast of all kinds

of delicious foods, till the old man began to think he must be

dreaming. In the middle of the dinner some of the sparrow’s daughters

performed a wonderful dance, called the “suzume-odori” or the

“Sparrow’s dance,” to amuse the guest.

Never had the old man enjoyed himself so much. The hours flew by too

quickly in this lovely spot, with all these fairy sparrows to wait upon

him and to feast him and to dance before him.

But the night came on and the darkness reminded him that he had a long

way to go and must think about taking his leave and return home. He

thanked his kind hostess for her splendid entertainment, and begged her

for his sake to forget all she had suffered at the hands of his cross

old wife. He told the Lady Sparrow that it was a great comfort and

happiness to him to find her in such a beautiful home and to know that

she wanted for nothing. It was his anxiety to know how she fared and

what had really happened to her that had led him to seek her. Now he

knew that all was well he could return home with a light heart. If ever

she wanted him for anything she had only to send for him and he would

come at once.

The Lady Sparrow begged him to stay and rest several days and enjoy the

change, but the old man said he must return to his old wife—who would

probably be cross at his not coming home at the usual time—and to his

work, and there-fore, much as he wished to do so, he could not accept

her kind invitation. But now that he knew where the Lady Sparrow lived

he would come to see her whenever he had the time.

When the Lady Sparrow saw that she could not persuade the old man to

stay longer, she gave an order to some of her servants, and they at

once brought in two boxes, one large and the other small. These were

placed before the old man, and the Lady Sparrow asked him to choose

whichever he liked for a present, which she wished to give him.

The old man could not refuse this kind proposal, and he chose the

smaller box, saying:

“I am now too old and feeble to carry the big and heavy box. As you are

so kind as to say that I may take whichever I like, I will choose the

small one, which will be easier for me to carry.”

Then the sparrows all helped him put it on his back and went to the

gate to see him off, bidding him good-by with many bows and entreating

him to come again whenever he had the time. Thus the old man and his

pet sparrow separated quite happily, the sparrow showing not the least

ill-will for all the unkindness she had suffered at the hands of the

old wife. Indeed, she only felt sorrow for the old man who had to put

up with it all his life.

When the old man reached home he found his wife even crosser than

usual, for it was late on in the night and she had been waiting up for

him for a long time.

“Where have you been all this time?” she asked in a big voice. “Why do

you come back so late?”

The old man tried to pacify her by showing her the box of presents he

had brought back with him, and then he told her of all that had

happened to him, and how wonderfully he had been entertained at the

sparrow’s house.

“Now let us see what is in the box,” said the old man, not giving her

time to grumble again. “You must help me open it.” And they both sat

down before the box and opened it.

To their utter astonishment they found the box filled to the brim with

gold and silver coins and many other precious things. The mats of their

little cottage fairly glittered as they took out the things one by one

and put them down and handled them over and over again. The old man was

overjoyed at the sight of the riches that were now his. Beyond his

brightest expectations was the sparrow’s gift, which would enable him

to give up work and live in ease and comfort the rest of his days.

He said: “Thanks to my good little sparrow! Thanks to my good little

sparrow!” many times.

But the old woman, after the first moments of surprise and satisfaction

at the sight of the gold and silver were over, could not suppress the

greed of her wicked nature. She now began to reproach the old man for

not having brought home the big box of presents, for in the innocence

of his heart he had told her how he had refused the large box of

presents which the sparrows had offered him, preferring the smaller one

because it was light and easy to carry home.

“You silly old man,” said she, “Why did you not bring the large box?

Just think what we have lost. We might have had twice as much silver

and gold as this. You are certainly an old fool!” she screamed, and

then went to bed as angry as she could be.

The old man now wished that he had said nothing about the big box, but

it was too late; the greedy old woman, not contented with the good luck

which had so unexpectedly befallen them and which she so little

deserved, made up her mind, if possible, to get more.

Early the next morning she got up and made the old man describe the way

to the sparrow’s house. When he saw what was in her mind he tried to

keep her from going, but it was useless. She would not listen to one

word he said. It is strange that the old woman did not feel ashamed of

going to see the sparrow after the cruel way she had treated her in

cutting off her tongue in a fit of rage. But her greed to get the big

box made her forget everything else. It did not even enter her thoughts

that the sparrows might be angry with her—as, indeed, they were—and

might punish her for what she had done.

Ever since the Lady Sparrow had returned home in the sad plight in

which they had first found her, weeping and bleeding from the mouth,

her whole family and relations had done little else but speak of the

cruelty of the old woman. “How could she,” they asked each other,

“inflict such a heavy punishment for such a trifling offense as that of

eating some rice-paste by mistake?” They all loved the old man who was

so kind and good and patient under all his troubles, but the old woman

they hated, and they determined, if ever they had the chance, to punish

her as she deserved. They had not long to wait.

After walking for some hours the old woman had at last found the bamboo

grove which she had made her husband carefully describe, and now she

stood before it crying out:

“Where is the tongue-cut sparrow’s house? Where is the tongue-cut

sparrow’s house?”

At last she saw the eaves of the house peeping out from amongst the

bamboo foliage. She hastened to the door and knocked loudly.

When the servants told the Lady Sparrow that her old mistress was at

the door asking to see her, she was somewhat surprised at the

unexpected visit, after all that had taken place, and she wondered not

a little at the boldness of the old woman in venturing to come to the

house. The Lady Sparrow, however, was a polite bird, and so she went

out to greet the old woman, remembering that she had once been her

mistress.

The old woman intended, however, to waste no time in words, she went

right to the point, without the least shame, and said:

“You need not trouble to entertain me as you did my old man. I have

come myself to get the box which he so stupidly left behind. I shall

soon take my leave if you will give me the big box—that is all I want!”

The Lady Sparrow at once consented, and told her servants to bring out

the big box. The old woman eagerly seized it and hoisted it on her

back, and without even stopping to thank the Lady Sparrow began to

hurry homewards.

The box was so heavy that she could not walk fast, much less run, as

she would have liked to do, so anxious was she to get home and see what

was inside the box, but she had often to sit down and rest herself by

the way.

While she was staggering along under the heavy load, her desire to open

the box became too great to be resisted. She could wait no longer, for

she supposed this big box to be full of gold and silver and precious

jewels like the small one her husband had received.

At last this greedy and selfish old woman put down the box by the

wayside and opened it carefully, expecting to gloat her eyes on a mine

of wealth. What she saw, however, so terrified her that she nearly lost

her senses. As soon as she lifted the lid, a number of horrible and

frightful looking demons bounced out of the box and surrounded her as

if they intended to kill her. Not even in nightmares had she ever seen

such horrible creatures as her much-coveted box contained. A demon with

one huge eye right in the middle of its forehead came and glared at

her, monsters with gaping mouths looked as if they would devour her, a

huge snake coiled and hissed about her, and a big frog hopped and

croaked towards her.

The old woman had never been so frightened in her life, and ran from

the spot as fast as her quaking legs would carry her, glad to escape

alive. When she reached home she fell to the floor and told her husband

with tears all that had happened to her, and how she had been nearly

killed by the demons in the box.

Then she began to blame the sparrow, but the old man stopped her at

once, saying:

“Don’t blame the sparrow, it is your wickedness which has at last met

with its reward. I only hope this may be a lesson to you in the

future!”

The old woman said nothing more, and from that day she repented of her

cross, unkind ways, and by degrees became a good old woman, so that her

husband hardly knew her to be the same person, and they spent their

last days together happily, free from want or care, spending carefully

the treasure the old man had received from his pet, the tongue-cut

sparrow.

Japanese Fairy Tales(#4018) · 第 8 / 26 题