as quickly as they could. The four musicians liked their new home so
well that they thought no more of going on to the city. The last we
heard of them, they were still there and having happy times together.
_The Straw Ox_[12]
R. NESBIT BAIN
There was once upon a time an old man and an old woman. The old man
worked in the fields as a pitch-burner, while the old woman sat at
home and spun flax. They were so poor that they could save nothing at
all; all their earnings went in bare food, and when that was gone
there was nothing left. At last the old woman had a good idea:
"Look now, husband," cried she, "make me a straw ox, and smear it all
over with tar."
[Footnote 12: From _Cossack Fairy Tales_ (London: George G. Harrap &
Company).]
"Why, you foolish woman!" said he, "what's the good of an ox of that
sort?"
"Never mind," said she, "you just make it. I know what I am about."
What was the poor man to do? He set to work and made the ox of straw,
and smeared it all over with tar.
The night passed away, and at early dawn the old woman took her
distaff, and drove the straw ox out into the steppe to graze, and she
herself sat down behind a hillock, and began spinning her flax, and
cried:
"Graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax. Graze away, little ox,
while I spin my flax!" And while she spun, her head drooped down and
she began to doze, and while she was dozing, from behind the dark wood
and from the back of the huge pines a bear came rushing out upon the
ox and said:
"Who are you? Speak, and tell me!"
And the ox said:
"A three-year-old heifer am I, made of straw and smeared with tar."
"Oh!" said the bear, "stuffed with straw and trimmed with tar, are
you? Then give me of your straw and tar, that I may patch up my ragged
fur again!"
"Take some," said the ox, and the bear fell upon him and began to tear
away at the tar.
He tore and tore, and buried his teeth in it till he found he couldn't
let go again. He tugged and he tugged, but it was no good, and the ox
dragged him gradually off, goodness knows where.
Then the old woman awoke, and there was no ox to be seen. "Alas! old
fool that I am!" cried she, "perchance it has gone home." Then she
quickly caught up her distaff and spinning board, threw them over her
shoulders, and hastened off home, and she saw that the ox had dragged
the bear up to the fence, and in she went to her old man.
"Dad, dad," she cried, "look, look! The ox has brought us a bear. Come
out and kill it!" Then the old man jumped up, tore off the bear, tied
him up, and threw him in the cellar.
Next morning, between dark and dawn, the old woman took her distaff
and drove the ox into the steppe to graze. She herself sat down by a
mound, began spinning, and said:
"Graze, graze away, little ox, while I spin my flax! Graze, graze
away, little ox, while I spin my flax!" And while she spun, her head
dropped down and she dozed. And, lo! from behind the dark wood, from
the back of the huge pines, a grey wolf came rushing out upon the ox
and said:
"Who are you? Come, tell me!"
"I am a three-year-old heifer, stuffed with straw and trimmed with
tar," said the ox.
"Oh! trimmed with tar, are you? Then give me of your tar to tar my
sides, that the dogs and the sons of dogs tear me not!"
"Take some," said the ox. And with that the wolf fell upon him and
tried to tear the tar off. He tugged and tugged, and tore with his
teeth, but could get none off. Then he tried to let go, and couldn't;
tug and worry as he might, it was no good. When the old woman woke,
there was no heifer in sight. "Maybe my heifer has gone home!" she
cried. "I'll go home and see." When she got there she was astonished,
for by the palings stood the ox with the wolf still tugging at it. She
ran and told her old man, and her old man came and threw the wolf into
the cellar also.
On the third day the old woman again drove her ox into the pastures to
graze, and sat down by a mound and dozed off. Then a fox came running
up. "Who are you?" it asked the ox.
"I'm a three-year-old heifer, stuffed with straw and daubed with tar."
"Then give me some of your tar to smear my sides with, when those dogs
and sons of dogs tear my hide!"
"Take some," said the ox. Then the fox fastened her teeth in him and
couldn't draw them out again. The old woman told her old man, and he
took and cast the fox into the cellar in the same way. And after that
they caught Pussy Swift-foot[13] likewise.
[Footnote 13: The hare.]
So when he had got them all safely the old man sat down on a bench
before the cellar and began sharpening a knife. And the bear said to
him:
"Tell me, daddy, what are you sharpening your knife for?"
"To flay your skin off, that I may make a leather jacket for myself
and a pelisse for my old woman."
"Oh! don't flay me, daddy dear! Rather let me go, and I'll bring you a
lot of honey."
"Very well, see you do it," and he unbound and let the bear go. Then
he sat down on the bench and again began sharpening his knife. And the
wolf asked him:
"Daddy, what are you sharpening your knife for?"
"To flay off your skin, that I may make me a warm cap against the
winter."
"Oh! Don't flay me, daddy dear, and I'll bring you a whole herd of
little sheep."
"Well, see that you do it," and he let the wolf go.
Then he sat down, and began sharpening his knife again. The fox put
out her little snout, and asked him:
"Be so kind, dear daddy, as to tell me why you are sharpening your
knife!"
"Little foxes," said the old man, "have nice skins that do capitally
for collars and trimmings, and I want to skin you!"
"Oh! Don't take my skin away, daddy dear, and I will bring you hens
and geese."
"Very well, see that you do it!" and he let the fox go.
The hare now alone remained, and the old man began sharpening his
knife on the hare's account.
"Why do you do that?" asked Puss, and he replied:
"Little hares have nice little, soft, warm skins, which will make me
nice gloves and mittens against the winter!"
"Oh! daddy dear! Don't flay me, and I'll bring you kale and good
cauliflower if only you let me go!"
Then he let the hare go also.
Then they went to bed: but very early in the morning, when it was
neither dusk nor dawn, there was a noise in the doorway like
_Durrrrrr!_
"Daddy!" cried the old woman, "there's someone scratching at the door:
go and see who it is!"
The old man went out, and there was the bear carrying a whole hive
full of honey. The old man took the honey from the bear; but no sooner
did he lie down again than there was another _Durrrrr!_ at the door.
The old man looked out and saw the wolf driving a whole flock of sheep
into the courtyard. Close on his heels came the fox, driving before
him geese and hens, and all manner of fowls; and last of all came the
hare, bringing cabbage and kale, and all manner of good food.
And the old man was glad, and the old woman was glad. And the old man
sold the sheep and oxen, and got so rich that he needed nothing more.
As for the straw-stuffed ox, it stood in the sun till it fell to
pieces.
_The Necklace of Truth_
JEAN MACE
Once there was a little girl named Coralie. She had but one fault. She
told falsehoods. Her parents tried to cure her in many ways, but in
vain. Finally they decided to take her to the enchanter Merlin.
The enchanter Merlin lived in a glass palace. He loved truth. He knew
liars by their odour a league off. When Coralie came toward the
castle, Merlin was forced to burn vinegar to keep himself from being
ill.
Coralie's mother began to explain the reason for their coming. But
Merlin stopped her.
"I know all about your daughter, my good lady," he said. "She is one
of the greatest liars in the world. She often makes me ill."
Merlin's face looked so stern that Coralie hid her face under her
mother's cloak. Her father stood before her to keep her from harm.
"Do not fear," said Merlin. "I am not going to hurt your little girl.
I only wish to make her a present."
He opened a drawer and took from it a magnificent amethyst necklace.
It was fastened with a shining clasp of diamonds.
Merlin put the necklace on Coralie's neck and said, "Go in peace, my
friends. Your little daughter carries with her a sure guardian of the
truth."
Then he looked sternly at Coralie and said, "In a year I shall come
for my necklace. Do not dare to take it off for a single moment. If
you do, harm will come to you!"
"Oh, I shall always love to wear it! It is so beautiful!" cried
Coralie. And this is the way she came by the wonderful Necklace of
Truth.
The day after Coralie returned home she was sent to school. As she had
long been absent, the little girls crowded round her. There was a cry
of admiration at sight of the necklace.
"Where did it come from? Where did you get it?" they asked.
"I was ill for a long time," replied Coralie. "When I got well, mamma
and papa gave me the necklace."
A loud cry rose from all. The diamonds of the clasp had grown dim.
They now looked like coarse glass.
"Yes, indeed, I have been ill! What are you making such a fuss
about?"
At this second falsehood the amethysts, in turn, changed to ugly
yellow stones. A new cry arose. Coralie was frightened at the strange
behaviour of the necklace.
"I have been to the enchanter Merlin," she said very humbly.
Immediately the necklace looked as beautiful as ever. But the children
teased her.
"You need not laugh," said Coralie, "for Merlin was very glad to see
us. He sent his carriage to the next town to meet us. Such a splendid
carriage, with six white horses, pink satin cushions, and a negro
coachman with powdered hair. Merlin's palace is all of jasper and
gold. He met us at the door and led us to the dining-room. There stood
a long table covered with delicious things to eat. First of all we
ate----"
Coralie stopped, for the children were laughing till the tears rolled
down their cheeks. She glanced at the necklace and shuddered. With
each new falsehood, the necklace had become longer and longer, till it
already dragged on the ground.
"Coralie, you are stretching the truth," cried the girls.
"Well, I confess it. We walked, and we stayed there only five
minutes."
The necklace shrank at once to its proper size.
"The necklace--the necklace--where did it come from?"
"He gave it to me without saying a word. I think----"
She had not time to finish. The fatal necklace grew shorter and
shorter till it choked her. She gasped for breath.
"You are keeping back part of the truth," cried her schoolmates.
"He said--that I was--one of the greatest--liars in the world." The
necklace loosened about her neck, but Coralie still cried with pain.
"That was why Merlin gave me the necklace. He said that it would make
me truthful. What a silly I have been to be proud of it!"
Her playmates were sorry for her. "If I were in your place," said one
of them, "I should send back the necklace. Why do you not take it
off?"
Poor Coralie did not wish to speak. The stones, however, began to
dance up and down and to make a terrible clatter.
"There is something you have not told us," laughed the little girls.
"I like to wear it."
Oh, how the diamonds and amethysts danced! It was worse than ever.
"Tell us the true reason."
"Well, I see I can hide nothing. Merlin forbade me to take it off. He
said great harm would come if I disobeyed."
Thanks to the enchanted necklace, Coralie became a truthful child.
Long before the year had passed, Merlin came for his necklace. He
needed it for another child who told falsehoods.
No one can tell to-day what has become of the wonderful Necklace of
Truth. But if I were a little child in the habit of telling
falsehoods, I should not feel quite sure that it might not be found
again some fine day.
_Anders' New Cap_[14]
ANNA WOHLENBERG
Once upon a time there was a little boy, called Anders, who had a new
cap. And a prettier cap you never could see, for mother herself had
knitted it, and nobody could make anything quite as nice as mother
could. And it was altogether red, except a small part in the middle
which was green, for the red yarn had given out; and the tassel was
blue.
[Footnote 14: _A Swedish Fairy Tale._]
His brothers and sisters walked about squinting at him, and their
faces grew long with envy. But Anders cared nothing about that. He put
his hands in his trousers pockets and went out for a walk, for he did
not begrudge anybody's seeing how fine he was.
The first person he met was a farm labourer walking alongside a load
of peat and smacking at his horse. He made a bow so deep that his back
came near breaking, and he was dumbfounded, I can tell you, when he
saw it was nobody but Anders.
"Dear me," he said, "if I did not think it was the gracious little
count himself." And then he invited Anders to ride on the peat load.
But when one has a fine red cap with a blue tassel, one is too fine to
ride on peat loads, and Anders trotted proudly by.
At the turn of the road he ran up against the tanner's boy, Lars. He
was such a big boy that he wore high boots and carried a jack-knife.
He gazed and gazed at the cap, and could not keep from fingering the
blue tassel.
"Let's swap caps," he said, "and I will give you my jack-knife to
boot."
Now this knife was a splendid one, though half the blade was gone, and
the handle was a little cracked; and Anders knew that one is almost a
man as soon as one has a jack-knife. But still it did not come up to
the new cap which mother had made.
"Oh no, I am not as stupid as all that!"
And then he said good-bye to Lars with a nod; but Lars only made faces
at him, for he was very much put out because he could not cheat Anders
out of his cap which his mother had made.
Soon after this, Anders met a very old, old woman who curtsied till
her skirts looked like a balloon. She called him a little gentleman
and said that he was so fine that he might go to the royal court ball.
"Yes, why not?" thought Anders. "Seeing that I am so fine, I may as
well go and visit the King."
And so he did. In the palace yard stood two soldiers with shining
helmets, and with muskets over their shoulders; and when Anders came,
both the muskets were levelled at him.
"Where may you be going?" asked one of the soldiers.
"I am going to the court ball," answered Anders.
"Indeed you are not," said the other soldier, and put his foot
forward. "Nobody is allowed there without a uniform."
But just at this instant the Princess came tripping across the yard.
She was dressed in white silk with bows of ribbon. When she became
aware of Anders and the soldiers, she walked over to them.
"Oh," she said, "he has such an extraordinarily fine cap on his head,
that that will do just as well as a uniform."
And she took Anders' hand and walked with him up the broad marble
stairs, where soldiers were posted at every third step, and through
the magnificent halls where courtiers in silk and velvet stood bowing
wherever he went. For, like as not, they must have thought him a
prince when they saw his fine cap.
At the farther end of the largest hall a table was set with golden
cups and golden plates in long rows. On huge silver platters were
pyramids of tarts and cakes, and red wine sparkled in glittering
decanters. The Princess sat down under a blue canopy with bouquets of
roses; and she let Anders sit in a golden chair by her side.
"But you must not eat with your cap on your head," she said, and was
going to take it off.
"Oh yes, I can eat just as well," said Anders, and held on to his cap,
for if they should take it away from him, nobody would any longer
believe that he was a prince, and, besides, he did not feel sure that
he would get it back again.
"Well, well, give it to me," said the Princess, "and I will give you a
kiss."
The Princess certainly was beautiful, and he would have dearly liked
to be kissed by her, but the cap which his mother had made he would
not give up on any condition. He only shook his head.
"Well, but now?" said the Princess; and she filled his pockets with
cakes, and put her own heavy gold chain around his neck, and bent down
and kissed him.
But he only moved farther back in his chair, and did not take his
hands away from his head.
Then the doors were thrown open, and the King entered with a large
suite of gentlemen in glittering uniforms and plumed hats. And the
King himself wore an ermine-bordered purple mantle which trailed
behind him, and he had a large gold crown on his white curly hair.
He smiled when he saw Anders in the gilt chair.
"That is a very fine cap you have," he said.
"So it is," said Anders. "And it is made of mother's best yarn, and
she knitted it herself, and everybody wants to get it away from me."
"But surely you would like to change caps with me," said the King, and
raised his large, heavy gold crown from his head.
Anders did not answer. He sat as before, and held on to his red cap
which everybody was so anxious to get. But when the King came nearer
to him, with his gold crown between his hands, then he grew frightened
as never before, for a King can do what he likes, and he would be
likely to cheat him out of his cap, if he did not take good care.
With one jump Anders got out of his chair. He darted like an arrow
through all the halls, down all the stairs, and across the yard. He
twisted himself like an eel between the outstretched arms of the
courtiers, and over the soldiers' muskets he jumped like a little
rabbit. He ran so fast that the Princess's necklace fell off his
neck, and all the cakes jumped out of his pockets. But he had his cap.
He still held on to it with both hands as he rushed into his mother's
cottage.
And his mother took him up in her lap, and he told her all his
adventures, and how everybody wanted his cap. And all his brothers and
sisters stood round and listened with their mouths open.
But when his big brother heard that he had refused to give his cap for
a King's golden crown, he said that Anders was a stupid. Just think
what splendid things one might get in exchange for the crown; and
Anders could have had a still finer cap.
Anders' face grew red. That he had not thought of. He cuddled up to
his mother and asked:
"Mother, was I stupid?"
But his mother hugged him close.
"No, my little son," she said. "If you dressed in silk and gold from
top to toe, you could not look any nicer than in your little red cap."
Then Anders felt brave again. He knew well enough that mother's cap
was the best cap in all the world.
_Dust under the Rug_
MAUD LINDSAY
There was once a mother, who had two little daughters; and, as her
husband was dead and she was very poor, she worked diligently all the
time that they might be well fed and clothed. She was a skilled
worker, and found work to do away from home, but her two little girls
were so good and so helpful that they kept her house as neat and as
bright as a new pin.
One of the little girls was lame, and could not run about the house;
so she sat still in her chair, and sewed, while Minnie, the sister,
washed the dishes, swept the floor, and made the home beautiful.
Their home was on the edge of a great forest; and after their tasks
were finished the little girls would sit at the window and watch the
tall trees as they bent in the wind, until it would seem as though the
trees were real persons, nodding and bending and bowing to each other.
In the spring there were birds, in the summer the wild flowers, in
autumn the bright leaves, and in winter the great drifts of white
snow; so that the whole year was a round of delight to the two happy
children. But one day the dear mother came home ill; and then they
were very sad. It was winter, and there were many things to buy.
Minnie and her little sister sat by the fireside and talked it over,
and at last Minnie said:
"Dear sister, I must go out to find work, before the food comes to an
end." So she kissed her mother, and, wrapping herself up, started from
home. There was a narrow path leading through the forest, and she
determined to follow it until she reached some place where she might
find the work she wanted.
As she hurried on, the shadows grew deeper. The night was coming fast
when she saw before her a very small house, which was a welcome sight.
She made haste to reach it, and to knock at the door.
Nobody came in answer to her knock. When she had tried again and
again, she thought that nobody lived there; and she opened the door
and walked in, meaning to stay all night.
As soon as she stepped into the house, she started back in surprise;
for there before her she saw twelve little beds with the bedclothes
all tumbled, twelve little dirty plates on a very dusty table, and the
floor of the room so dusty that I am sure you could have drawn a
picture on it.
"Dear me!" said the little girl, "this will never do!" And as soon as
she had warmed her hands, she set to work to make the room tidy.
She washed the plates, she made up the beds, she swept the floor, she
straightened the great rug in front of the fireplace, and set the
twelve little chairs in a half-circle around the fire; and, just as
she finished, the door opened and in walked twelve of the queerest
little people she had ever seen. They were just about as tall as a
carpenter's rule, and all wore yellow clothes; and when Minnie saw
this, she knew that they must be the dwarfs who kept the gold in the
heart of the mountain.
"Well!" said the dwarfs, all together, for they always spoke together
and in rhyme,
"Now isn't this a sweet surprise?
We really can't believe our eyes!"
Then they spied Minnie, and cried in great astonishment:
"Who can this be, so fair and mild?
Our helper is a stranger child."
Now when Minnie saw the dwarfs, she came to meet them. "If you
please," she said, "I'm little Minnie Grey; and I'm looking for work
because my dear mother is sick. I came in here when the night drew
near, and----"
Here all the dwarfs laughed, and called out merrily:
"You found our room a sorry sight,
But you have made it clean and bright."
They were such dear funny little dwarfs! After they had thanked Minnie
for her trouble, they took white bread and honey from the closet and
asked her to sup with them.
While they sat at supper, they told her that their fairy housekeeper
had taken a holiday, and their house was not well kept, because she
was away.
They sighed when they said this; and after supper, when Minnie washed
the dishes and set them carefully away, they looked at her often and
talked among themselves. When the last plate was in its place they
called Minnie to them and said:
"Dear mortal maiden, will you stay
All through our fairy's holiday?
And if you faithful prove, and good,
We will reward you as we should."
Now Minnie was much pleased, for she liked the kind dwarfs, and wanted
to help them, so she thanked them, and went to bed to dream happy
dreams.
Next morning she was awake with the chickens, and cooked a nice
breakfast; and after the dwarfs left, she cleaned up the rooms and
mended the dwarfs' clothes. In the evening when the dwarfs came home,
they found a bright fire and a warm supper waiting for them; and every
day Minnie worked faithfully until the last day of the fairy
house-keeper's holiday.
That morning, as Minnie looked out of the window to watch the dwarfs
go to their work, she saw on one of the window-panes the most
beautiful picture she had ever seen.
A picture of fairy palaces with towers of silver and frosted
pinnacles, so wonderful and beautiful that as she looked at it she
forgot that there was work to be done, until the cuckoo clock on the
mantel struck twelve.
Then she ran in haste to make up the beds, and wash the dishes; but
because she was in a hurry she could not work quickly, and when she
took the broom to sweep the floor it was almost time for the dwarfs to
come home.
"I believe," said Minnie aloud, "that I will not sweep under the rug
to-day. After all, it is nothing for dust to be where it can't be
seen." So she hurried to her supper and left the rug unturned.
Before long the dwarfs came home. As the rooms looked just as usual,
nothing was said; and Minnie thought no more of the dust until she
went to bed and the stars peeped through the window.
Then she thought of it, for it seemed to her that she could hear the
stars saying:
"There is the little girl who is so faithful and good"; and Minnie
turned her face to the wall, for a little voice, right in her own
heart, said:
"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!"
"There is the little girl," cried the stars, "who keeps home as bright
as star-shine."
"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!" said the little voice in
Minnie's heart.
"We see her! we see her!" called all the stars joyfully.
"Dust under the rug! dust under the rug!" said the little voice in
Minnie's heart, and she could bear it no longer. So she sprang out of
bed, and, taking her broom in her hand, she swept the dust away; and
lo! under the rug lay twelve shining gold-pieces, as round and as
bright as the moon.