E-text prepared by Sankar Viswanathan, Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, and
the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
(https://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 24714-h.htm or 24714-h.zip:
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/7/1/24714/24714-h/24714-h.htm)
or
(https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/7/1/24714/24714-h.zip)
FAIRY TALES FROM BRAZIL
How and Why Tales from Brazilian Folk-Lore
by
ELSIE SPICER EELLS
With Illustrations by Helen M. Barton
This special edition is published by arrangement with the
publisher of the regular edition, Dodd, Mead & Company.
Cadmus Books
E. M. Hale and Company
Chicago
Copyright, 1917,
by Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Thanks are due to the publishers of _Little Folks_,
_Kindergarten-Primary Magazine_, _Everyland_, _Mayflower and Story
Tellers' Magazine_ for the privilege of reprinting stories which they
have published.
ELSIE SPICER EELLS
* * * * *
PREFACE
It is late afternoon in my Brazilian garden. The dazzling blue of sea
and sky which characterises a tropical noonday has become subdued and
already roseate tints are beginning to prepare the glory of the sunset
hour. A lizard crawls lazily up the whitewashed wall. The song of the
_sabiá_, that wonderful Brazilian thrush, sounds from the royal palm
tree. The air is heavy with the perfume of the orange blossom. There
is no long twilight in the tropics. Night will leap down suddenly upon
my Brazilian garden from out of the glory of the sunset sky.
Theresa, the _ama_, stands before us on the terrace under the mango
trees, and we, her _yáyázinhas_ and _yóyózinhos_, know that the story
hour has come. Theresa, daughter of the mud huts under the palm trees,
_ama_ in the _sobrado_ of the foreign _senhora_, is a royal queen of
story land. For her the beasts break silence and talk like humans. For
her all the magic wonders of her tales stand forth as living truth.
Her lithe body sways backwards and forwards to the rhythm of her words
as she unfolds her tales to us. She is a picture to remember as she
stands under the mango trees on our terrace. Her spotless white
"_camiza_" is decorated with beautiful pillow lace, her own handiwork.
Her skirt of stiffly starched cotton is red and purple in colour. A
crimson flowered folded shawl hangs over her right shoulder and great
strings of beads ornament the ebony of her neck and arms. To sit at
the feet of Theresa, the _ama_, is to enter the gate of story land.
CONTENTS
PREFACE
I. HOW NIGHT CAME
II. HOW THE RABBIT LOST HIS TAIL
III. HOW THE TOAD GOT HIS BRUISES
IV. HOW THE TIGER GOT HIS STRIPES
V. WHY THE LAMB IS MEEK
VI. WHY THE TIGER AND THE STAG FEAR EACH OTHER
VII. HOW THE SPECKLED HEN GOT HER SPECKLES
VIII. HOW THE MONKEY BECAME A TRICKSTER
IX. HOW THE MONKEY AND THE GOAT EARNED THEIR REPUTATIONS
X. HOW THE MONKEY GOT A DRINK WHEN HE WAS THIRSTY
XI. HOW THE MONKEY GOT FOOD WHEN HE WAS HUNGRY
XII. WHY THE BANANAS BELONG TO THE MONKEY
XIII. HOW THE MONKEY ESCAPED BEING EATEN
XIV. WHY THE MONKEY STILL HAS A TAIL
XV. HOW BLACK BECAME WHITE
XVI. HOW THE PIGEON BECAME A TAME BIRD
XVII. WHY THE SEA MOANS
XVIII. HOW THE BRAZILIAN BEETLES GOT THEIR GORGEOUS COATS
I
How Night Came
Years and years ago at the very beginning of time, when the world had
just been made, there was no night. It was day all the time. No one
had ever heard of sunrise or sunset, starlight or moonbeams. There
were no night birds, nor night beasts, nor night flowers. There were
no lengthening shadows, nor soft night air, heavy with perfume.
In those days the daughter of the GREAT SEA SERPENT, who dwelt in the
depths of the seas, married one of the sons of the great earth race
known as MAN. She left her home among the shades of the deep seas and
came to dwell with her husband in the land of daylight. Her eyes grew
weary of the bright sunlight and her beauty faded. Her husband watched
her with sad eyes, but he did not know what to do to help her.
"O, if night would only come," she moaned as she tossed about wearily
on her couch. "Here it is always day, but in my father's kingdom there
are many shadows. O, for a little of the darkness of night!"
Her husband listened to her moanings. "What is night?" he asked her.
"Tell me about it and perhaps I can get a little of it for you."
"Night," said the daughter of the GREAT SEA SERPENT, "is the name we
give to the heavy shadows which darken my father's kingdom in the
depths of the seas. I love the sunlight of your earth land, but I grow
very weary of it. If we could have only a little of the darkness of my
father's kingdom to rest our eyes part of the time."
Her husband at once called his three most faithful slaves. "I am about
to send you on a journey," he told them. "You are to go to the kingdom
of the GREAT SEA SERPENT who dwells in the depths of the seas and ask
him to give you some of the darkness of night that his daughter may
not die here amid the sunlight of our earth land."
The three slaves set forth for the kingdom of the GREAT SEA SERPENT.
After a long dangerous journey they arrived at his home in the depths
of the seas and asked him to give them some of the shadows of night
to carry back to the earth land. The GREAT SEA SERPENT gave them a big
bag full at once. It was securely fastened and the GREAT SEA SERPENT
warned them not to open it until they were once more in the presence
of his daughter, their mistress.
The three slaves started out, bearing the big bag full of night upon
their heads. Soon they heard strange sounds within the bag. It was the
sound of the voices of all the night beasts, all the night birds, and
all the night insects. If you have ever heard the night chorus from
the jungles on the banks of the rivers you will know how it sounded.
The three slaves had never heard sounds like those in all their lives.
They were terribly frightened.
"Let us drop the bag full of night right here where we are and run
away as fast as we can," said the first slave.
"We shall perish. We shall perish, anyway, whatever we do," cried the
second slave.
"Whether we perish or not I am going to open the bag and see what
makes all those terrible sounds," said the third slave.
Accordingly they laid the bag on the ground and opened it. Out rushed
all the night beasts and all the night birds and all the night insects
and out rushed the great black cloud of night. The slaves were more
frightened than ever at the darkness and escaped to the jungle.
The daughter of the GREAT SEA SERPENT was waiting anxiously for the
return of the slaves with the bag full of night. Ever since they had
started out on their journey she had looked for their return, shading
her eyes with her hand and gazing away off at the horizon, hoping with
all her heart that they would hasten to bring the night. In that
position she was standing under a royal palm tree, when the three
slaves opened the bag and let night escape. "Night comes. Night comes
at last," she cried, as she saw the clouds of night upon the horizon.
Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep there under the royal palm
tree.
When she awoke she felt greatly refreshed. She was once more the happy
princess who had left her father's kingdom in the depths of the great
seas to come to the earth land. She was now ready to see the day
again. She looked up at the bright star shining above the royal palm
tree and said, "O, bright beautiful star, henceforth you shall be
called the morning star and you shall herald the approach of day. You
shall reign queen of the sky at this hour."
Then she called all the birds about her and said to them, "O,
wonderful, sweet singing birds, henceforth I command you to sing your
sweetest songs at this hour to herald the approach of day." The cock
was standing by her side. "You," she said to him, "shall be appointed
the watchman of the night. Your voice shall mark the watches of the
night and shall warn the others that the _madrugada_ comes." To this
very day in Brazil we call the early morning the _madrugada_. The cock
announces its approach to the waiting birds. The birds sing their
sweetest songs at that hour and the morning star reigns in the sky as
queen of the _madrugada_.
When it was daylight again the three slaves crept home through the
forests and jungles with their empty bag.
"O, faithless slaves," said their master, "why did you not obey the
voice of the GREAT SEA SERPENT and open the bag only in the presence
of his daughter, your mistress? Because of your disobedience I shall
change you into monkeys. Henceforth you shall live in the trees. Your
lips shall always bear the mark of the sealing wax which sealed the
bag full of night."
To this very day one sees the mark upon the monkeys' lips, where they
bit off the wax which sealed the bag; and in Brazil night leaps out
quickly upon the earth just as it leapt quickly out of the bag in
those days at the beginning of time. And all the night beasts and
night birds and night insects give a sunset chorus in the jungles at
nightfall.
II
How the Rabbit Lost His Tail
Once upon a time, ages and ages ago, the rabbit had a long tail, but
the cat had none. She looked with envious eyes at the one which the
rabbit had. It was exactly the sort of a tail she longed to have.
The rabbit was always a thoughtless careless little beast. One day he
went to sleep with his beautiful long tail hanging straight out behind
him. Along came Mistress Puss carrying a sharp knife, and with one
blow she cut off Mr. Rabbit's tail. Mistress Puss was very spry and
she had the tail nearly sewed on to her own body before Mr. Rabbit
saw what she was doing.
"Don't you think it looks better on me than it did on you?" asked
Mistress Puss.
"It surely is very becoming to you," replied the generous unselfish
rabbit. "It was a little too long for me anyway and I'll tell you what
I'll do. I'll let you keep it if you will give me that sharp knife in
exchange for it."
The cat gave Mr. Rabbit the knife and he started out into the deep
forest with it. "I've lost my tail but I've gained a knife," said he;
"I'll get a new tail or something else just as good."
Mr. Rabbit hopped along through the forest for a long time and at last
he came to a little old man who was busily engaged in making baskets.
He was making the baskets out of rushes and he was biting them off
with his teeth. He looked up and spied Mr. Rabbit with the knife in
his mouth.
"O, please, Mr. Rabbit," said he, "will you not be so kind as to let
me borrow that sharp knife you are carrying? It is very hard work to
bite the rushes off with my teeth."
Mr. Rabbit let him take the knife. He started to cut off the rushes
with it, when _snap_ went the knife! It broke into halves.
"O, dear! O, dear!" cried Mr. Rabbit. "What shall I do! What shall I
do! You have broken my nice new knife."
The little old man said that he was very sorry and that he did not
mean to do it.
Then Mr. Rabbit said, "A broken knife is of no use to me but perhaps
you can use it, even if it is broken. I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll let you keep the knife if you will give me one of your baskets in
exchange for it."
The little old man gave Mr. Rabbit a basket and he started on through
the deep forest with it. "I lost my tail but I gained a knife. I've
lost my knife but I've gained a basket," said he. "I'll get a new tail
or something else just as good."
Mr. Rabbit hopped along through the deep forest for a long time until
at last he came to a clearing. Here there was an old woman busily
engaged in picking lettuce. When she had gathered it she put it into
her apron. She looked up and spied Mr. Rabbit hopping along with his
basket.
"O, please, Mr. Rabbit," said she, "will you not be so kind as to let
me borrow that nice basket you are carrying?"
Mr. Rabbit let her take the basket. She began to put her lettuce into
it when out fell the bottom of the basket.
"O, dear! O, dear!" cried Mr. Rabbit. "What shall I do! What shall I
do! You have broken the bottom out of my nice new basket."
The old woman said that she was very sorry and that she did not mean
to do it.
Then said Mr. Rabbit, "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll let you keep
that broken basket if you will give me some of your lettuce."
The old woman gave Mr. Rabbit some lettuce and he hopped along with
it, saying, "I lost my tail but I gained a knife. I lost my knife but
I gained a basket. I lost my basket but I gained some lettuce."
The rabbit was getting very hungry and how nice the lettuce smelled!
He took a bite. It was just the very best thing he had ever tasted in
all his life. "I don't care if I did lose my tail," said he, "I've
found something I like very much better."
From that day to this no rabbit has ever had a tail. Neither has there
ever been a rabbit who cared because he had no tail. From that time to
this there has never been a rabbit who did not like lettuce to eat and
who was not perfectly happy and contented if there was plenty of it.
III
How the Toad Got His Bruises
Once upon a time, ages and ages ago, the toad had a smooth skin. In
those days he was a great gad about. He never could be found in his
own house. If any one had a party he was sure to go, no matter how far
away from home it was held, or how long it took to get there.
One day the toad received an invitation to attend a party in the sky.
"You never can get to this party," said his friend, the armadillo.
"You know how slowly you travel here upon earth."
"Wait and see whether or not I go to the party," said the toad.
Not far from the toad's house there lived a big black buzzard. No one
liked the buzzard. He was very unpopular with all the birds and
beasts. The toad hopped over to the buzzard's house. The buzzard was
outside the door making music on his violin.
"Good morning, Friend Buzzard," said the toad. "Are you going to
attend the party in the sky?"
The buzzard replied that he was planning to go.
"That is good," said the toad. "May I have the pleasure of your
company for the trip?"
The buzzard was delighted to have the toad seek his company. It was a
new experience.
"I'll be charmed to go to the party with you," replied the buzzard.
"What time shall we start?"
"We'll start at four o'clock," said the toad. "Come to my house and
we'll go on from there. Be sure to bring your violin with you."
Promptly at four o'clock the buzzard arrived at the toad's house. He
had his violin with him, of course, because the toad had asked him to
bring it.
"I'm not quite ready to go," the toad called out. "Just leave your
violin there by the door and step inside. It will take me only a
minute to finish my toilet."
The buzzard laid his violin carefully outside the door and went inside
the toad's house. The toad jumped through the window and hid himself
inside the violin.
The buzzard waited and waited for the toad to get ready but he did not
hear a word from the toad. Finally he got tired of waiting. He picked
up his violin and started.
When he arrived at the party he was a trifle late but he explained how
he had waited for the toad.
"How foolish to wait a minute for the toad," said his hosts. "How
could the toad ever get to a party in the sky? We just asked him as a
joke because he is such a great gad about. Lay down your violin and
come to the feast."
The buzzard laid down his violin. As soon as there was no one looking,
out hopped the toad. He was laughing from ear to ear. "So they
thought I would not come to the party! What a joke! How surprised they
will be to see me here!" he said.
There was nobody at the feast who was as gay as the toad. When the
buzzard asked how he arrived he said: "I'll tell you some other day."
Then he went on eating and dancing.
The buzzard did not have a very good time at the party. He decided
that he would go home early. He went away without saying good-bye to
his hosts and without taking his violin with him.
At the end of the party the toad hopped inside the violin and waited
and waited for the buzzard to take him home. Nobody picked up the
violin and the toad began to be very much worried. He almost wished
he had not come.
After a while the falcon noticed the violin. "That violin belongs to
the buzzard. He must have forgotten to take it home. I'll carry it
back for him," he said.
The falcon flew towards earth with the violin. The toad shook about
terribly inside of the violin. He got very tired. The falcon got
tired, too.
"I'm not going to carry this heavy old violin of the buzzard's another
minute," said the falcon. "I was foolish to offer to carry it in the
first place. The buzzard is no friend of mine."
He let the violin fall. Down, down toward earth it fell.
"O, little stones, O, little stones, get out of my way," called the
toad as he fell. The little stones had deaf ears. They did not get
out of the way.
When the toad crawled out of the wrecked violin he was so covered with
bruises that he could hardly hop home.
The buzzard never knew what became of his violin or why the toad had
lost his good looks. To this very day the toad shows his bruises. And
he is entirely cured of being a gad about.
IV
How the Tiger Got His Stripes
Once upon a time, ages and ages ago, so long ago that the tiger had no
stripes upon his back and the rabbit still had his tail, there was a
tiger who had a farm. The farm was very much overgrown with underbrush
and the owner sought a workman to clear the ground for him to plant.
The tiger called all the beasts together and said to them when they
had assembled, "I need a good workman at once to clear my farm of the
underbrush. To the one of you who will do this work I offer an ox in
payment."
The monkey was the first one to step forward and apply for the
position. The tiger tried him for a little while but he was not a good
workman at all. He did not work steadily enough to accomplish
anything. The tiger discharged him very soon and he did not pay him.
Then the tiger hired the goat to do the work. The goat worked
faithfully enough but he did not have the brains to do the work well.
He would clear a little of the farm in one place and then he would go
away and work on another part of it. He never finished anything
neatly. The tiger discharged him very soon without paying him.
Next the tiger tried the armadillo. The armadillo was very strong and
he did the work well. The trouble with him was that he had such an
appetite. There were a great many ants about the place and the
armadillo could never pass by a sweet tender juicy ant without
stopping to eat it. It was lunch time all day long with him. The tiger
discharged him and sent him away without paying him anything.
At last the rabbit applied for the position. The tiger laughed at him
and said, "Why, little rabbit, you are too small to do the work. The
monkey, the goat, and the armadillo have all failed to give
satisfaction. Of course a little beast like you will fail too."
However, there were no other beasts who applied for the position so
the tiger sent for the rabbit and told him that he would try him for a
little while.
The rabbit worked faithfully and well, and soon he had cleared a
large portion of the ground. The next day he worked just as well. The
tiger thought that he had been very lucky to hire the rabbit. He got
tired staying around to watch the rabbit work. The rabbit seemed to
know just how to do the work anyway, without orders, so the tiger
decided to go away on a hunting trip. He left his son to watch the
rabbit.
After the tiger had gone away the rabbit said to the tiger's son, "The
ox which your father is going to give me is marked with a white spot
on his left ear and another on his right side, isn't he?"
"O, no," replied the tiger's son. "He is red all over with just a tiny
white spot on his right ear."
The rabbit worked for a while longer and then he said, "The ox which
your father is going to give me is kept by the river, isn't he?"
"Yes," replied the tiger's son.
The rabbit had made a plan to go and get the ox without waiting to
finish his work. Just as he started off he saw the tiger returning.
The tiger noticed that the rabbit had not worked so well when he was
away. After that he stayed and watched the rabbit until the whole farm
was cleared. Then the tiger gave the rabbit the ox as he had promised.
"You must kill this ox," he said to the rabbit, "in a place where
there are neither flies nor mosquitoes."
The rabbit went away with the ox. After he had gone for some distance
he thought he would kill him. He heard a cock, however, crowing in
the distance and he knew that there must be a farm yard near. There
would be flies of course. He went on farther and again he thought that
he would kill the ox. The ground looked moist and damp and so did the
leaves on the bushes. Since the rabbit thought there would be
mosquitoes there he decided not to kill the ox. He went on and on and
finally he came to a high place where there was a strong breeze
blowing. "There are no mosquitoes here," he said to himself. "The
place is so far removed from any habitation that there are no flies,
either." He decided to kill the ox.
Just as he was ready to eat the ox, along came the tiger. "O, rabbit,
you have been such a good friend of mine," said the tiger, "and now I
am so very, very hungry that all my ribs show, as you yourself can
see. Will you not be a good kind rabbit and give me a piece of your
ox?"
The rabbit gave the tiger a piece of the ox. The tiger devoured it in
the twinkling of an eye. Then he leaned back and said, "Is that all
you are going to give me to eat?"
The tiger looked so big and savage that the rabbit did not dare refuse
to give him any more of the ox. The tiger ate and ate and ate until he
had devoured that entire ox. The rabbit had been able to get only a
tiny morsel of it. He was very, very angry at the tiger.
One day not long after the rabbit went to a place not far from the
tiger's house and began cutting down big staves of wood. The tiger
soon happened along and asked him what he was doing.
"I'm getting ready to build a stockade around myself," replied the
rabbit. "Haven't you heard the orders?" The tiger said that he hadn't
heard any orders.
"That is very strange," said the rabbit. "The order has gone forth
that every beast shall fortify himself by building a stockade around
himself. All the beasts are doing it."
The tiger became very much alarmed. "O, dear! O, dear! What shall I
do," he cried. "I don't know how to build a stockade. I never could do
it in the world. O, good rabbit! O, kind rabbit! You are such, a very
good friend of mine. Couldn't you, as a great favour, because of our
long friendship, build a stockade about me before you build one
around yourself?"
The rabbit replied that he could not think of risking his own life by
building the tiger's fortifications first. Finally, however, he
consented to do it.
The rabbit cut down great quantities of long sharp sticks. He set them
firmly in the ground about the tiger. He fastened others securely over
the top until the tiger was completely shut in by strong bars. Then he
went away and left the tiger.
The tiger waited and waited for something to happen to show him the
need of the fortifications. Nothing at all happened.
He got very hungry and thirsty. After a while the monkey passed that
way.
The tiger called out, "O, monkey, has the danger passed?"
The monkey did not know what danger the tiger meant, but he replied,
"Yes."
Then the tiger said, "O, monkey, O, good, kind monkey, will you not
please be so kind as to help me out of my stockade?"
"Let the one who got you in there help you out," replied the monkey
and he went on his way.
Along came the goat and the tiger called out, "O, goat, has the danger
passed?"
The goat did not know anything about any danger, but he replied,
"Yes."
Then the tiger said, "O, goat, O, good kind goat, please be so kind as
to help me out of my stockade."
"Let the one who got you in there help you out," replied the goat as
he went on his way.
Along came the armadillo and the tiger called out, "O, armadillo, has
the danger passed?"
The armadillo had not heard of any danger, but he replied that it had
passed.
Then the tiger said, "O, armadillo, O, good, kind armadillo, you have
always been such a good friend and neighbour. Please help me now to
get out of my stockade."
"Let the one who got you in there help you out," replied the armadillo
as he went on his way.
The tiger jumped and jumped with all his force at the top of the
stockade, but he could not break through. He jumped and jumped with
all his might at the front side of the stockade, but he could not
break through. He thought that never in the world would he be able to
break out. He rested for a little while and as he rested he thought.
He thought how bright the sun was shining outside. He thought what
good hunting there was in the jungle. He thought how cool the water
was at the spring. Once more he jumped and jumped with all his might
at the back side of the stockade. At last he broke through. He did not
get through, however, without getting bad cuts on both his sides from
the sharp edges of the staves. Until this day the tiger has stripes on
both his sides.
V
Why the Lamb Is Meek
Once upon a time there was a little lamb frisking gaily about the
pasture. The bright sunshine and the soft breezes made him very happy.
He had just finished a hearty meal and that made him happy too. He was
the very happiest little lamb in all the world and he thought that he
was the most wonderful little lamb.
A big toad sat on the ground and watched him. After a while the toad
said: "O, little lamb, how are you feeling today?"
The lamb replied that he had never felt better in all his life.
"Even though you are feeling very strong I can pull you into the sea,"
said the toad.
The little lamb laughed and laughed until he rolled over on the
ground.
"Just take hold of this rope and I'll show you how easy it is to pull
you into the sea," said the toad.
The lamb took hold of the rope. Then the toad said, "Please wait a
minute while I get a good long distance away from you. I can pull
better when I'm not too near you."
The lamb waited and the toad hopped down to the sea. He hopped up into
a tree which hung over the water's edge and from there he hopped on to
the whale's back. He fastened the end of the rope around the whale
and then he called out to the lamb: "All ready. Now we'll see how hard
you can pull."
When the whale felt the lamb pulling at the rope he swam away from the
shore. No matter how hard the lamb pulled or how much force he exerted
it did not do one bit of good. He was dragged down to the water's edge
as easily as could be.
"I give up," said the lamb as he reached the water's edge.
After that, although the sunshine was just as bright as ever, any one
who watched that little lamb could see that he was a little more meek.
One day not long afterwards the sunshine was again very bright and the
little lamb was again feeling frisky. He was so happy and gay that he
had forgotten all about how the toad had pulled him down to the water
until the toad spoke to him. Then he remembered.
"O, little lamb, how are you feeling today?" asked the toad. The
little lamb replied that he was very well.
"Let us run a race," said the toad, "I think I can beat you."
"You may be strong enough to pull me into the sea," said the lamb,
"but surely I can run faster than you. I've watched you hopping about
my pasture. You can't run fast at all. However, I'll gladly run a race
with you to prove what I say."
The toad set a goal and told the lamb to call out every little while
during the race so he could see how much farther ahead the lamb was.
Then the toad and the lamb started.
The toad had assembled all his brothers and his sisters and his
cousins and his uncles and his aunts before the race and had stationed
them at various points along the path of the race. He had told them
that whenever any of them should hear the lamb calling out, "Laculay,
laculay, laculay," the toad which was nearest should answer,
"Gulugubango, bango lay."
The lamb ran and ran as fast as he could. Then he remembered his
promise and called out, "Laculay, laculay, laculay." He expected to
hear the toad answer from a long, long distance behind him. He was
much surprised to hear some one near him answer, "Gulugubango, bango
lay." After that he ran faster than ever.
After running on for some distance farther the lamb again called out,
"Laculay, laculay, laculay." Again he heard the answer at only a short
distance away, "Gulugubango, bango lay." He ran and ran until his
little heart was beating so fast that it seemed as if it would burst.
At last he arrived at the goal of the race which the toad had set and
there sat the toad's brother who looked so much like him that the lamb
couldn't tell them apart. The lamb went back to his pasture very
meekly and quietly. He acknowledged that he had been beaten in the
race.
The next morning the toad said to him, "Even though you did not run
fast enough to win the race, still you are a very fast runner. I have
told the daughter of the king about you and I have said to her that
some day she shall see me riding on your back with a bridle in your
mouth as if you were my horse."
The lamb was very angry. "Perhaps you are strong enough to pull me
into the sea, and perhaps you can beat me when we run a race," said
the lamb, "but never, never in the world will I be your horse."
Time passed and the sunshine was very bright and the soft, gentle
breezes were very sweet. The lamb was so happy again that he forgot
all about how the toad had pulled him into the sea, and how the toad
had beaten him at running the race. He was very sorry for the toad
when he saw him all humped up in a disconsolate little heap one day.
"O, poor toad, are you sick?" he asked. "Isn't there something I can
do to help you?"
The toad told him how very sick he was. "There is something you could
do to help me," he said, "but I don't believe that you are quite
strong enough or can travel quite fast enough."
The lamb took a deep breath and blew out his chest. "I'll show you,"
he said. "Just tell me what it is."
The toad replied that he had promised to be at a party that afternoon
at the house of the king's daughter and he did not see how he could
possibly get there unless some one would carry him.
"Jump on my back," said the lamb. "I'll carry you."
The toad shook about on the lamb's back after they had started so that
it seemed as if he would surely fall off. After a little he said, "I
can not possibly stand riding like this. It jars all my sore spots.
I'll have to get off." He tried it a little while longer and shook
about worse than ever. Then he said, "Do you know, I think I could
endure this painful ride a little better if only I had something to
hold myself by? Do you mind if I take a piece of grass and put it in
your mouth? I can hold on to that when I shake about and my sore spots
will not hurt so much."
The lamb let the toad put a piece of grass in his mouth.
After a while the toad asked for a little stick. "The flies and
mosquitoes annoy me terribly," he said. "If only I had a little stick
I could wave it about over my head and frighten them away. It is very
bad for any one in my weak, nervous condition to be bothered by flies
and mosquitoes." The lamb let the toad have a little stick to wave
over his head.
At last the lamb and the toad drew near to the palace of the king. The
king's daughter was leaning out of the window watching for them. The
toad dug his feet into the lamb's sides, pulled hard on the piece of
the grass in the lamb's mouth and waved the little stick about over
the lamb's head. "Go on, horse," he said and the king's daughter heard
him. She laughed and laughed, and when all the rest of the people in
the palace saw the toad arriving mounted on the lamb's back and
driving him like a horse they laughed too. The lamb went meekly home
to his pasture and from that day to this when one wishes to speak of
meekness one says "as meek as a lamb."
VI
Why the Tiger and the Stag
Fear Each Other
Once upon a time there was a large handsome stag with great branching
horns. One day he said to himself, "I am tired of having no home of my
own, and of just living anywhere. I shall build me a house." He
searched on every hill, in every valley, by every stream, and under
all the trees for a suitable place. At last he found one that was just
right. It was not too high, nor too low, not too near a stream and not
too far away from one, not under too thick trees and not away from the
trees out under the hot sun. "I am going to build my house here," he
said, and he began to clear a place for it at once. He worked all day
and did not go away until night.
Now in that same country there lived a large handsome tiger, with
sharp, sharp teeth and bright, cruel eyes. One day the tiger said to
himself, "I am tired of having no home of my own,--of just living
around anywhere! I shall build me a house." Accordingly the tiger
searched for a place to build his house. He searched on every hill, in
every valley, by every stream, and under all the trees. At last he
found a place which was just right. It was not too high nor too low,
not too near a stream and not too far away from one, not under too
thick trees and yet not away from the trees out in the hot sun. The
tiger said to himself, "I am going to build my house here. The place
is all ready for me for there isn't very much underbrush here." He
began at once and finished clearing the place. Then it became daylight
and he went away.
At daylight the stag came back to do more work on his new house.
"H'm," he said when he looked at the clearing. "Somebody is helping
me. The place is cleared and ready for me to build the foundation."
He began to work at once and worked all day. At night when the
foundation was laid, he went away.
At night the tiger came to work at his new house. "H'm," he said when
he looked at it. "Somebody is helping me. The foundations of my house
are all laid." He began to work at once and built the sides of the
house. He worked all night and went away at daybreak, leaving the
house with the sides completed. There was a big door and a funny
little window in the side.
At daybreak the stag came back to work on his house. When he saw it he
rubbed his eyes for he thought that he must be dreaming. The sides of
the house were completed with a big door and a funny little window.
"Somebody must surely be helping me," he said to himself as he began
to work to put on the roof. He worked hard all day and when the sun
went down, there was a roof of dried grass on the house. "I can sleep
in my own house to-night," he said. He made his bed in the corner and
soon was sound asleep.
At night the tiger came back to work on his new house. When he saw it
he rubbed his eyes for he thought that he must be dreaming. There was
a roof of dried grass on the house.
"Somebody must surely be helping me," he said to himself as he entered
the door. The first thing he saw when he entered the door was the stag
sound asleep in his bed in the corner. "Who are you and what are you
doing in my house?" he said in his deepest voice.
The stag woke up with a start. "Who are you and what are you doing in
my house?" said the stag in his deepest voice.
"It is not your house. It is mine. I built it myself," said the
tiger.
"It is my house," said the stag. "I built it myself."
"I made the clearing for the house," said the tiger, "I built the
sides and made the door and window."
"I started the clearing," said the stag. "I laid the foundations and
put on the roof of dried grass."
The stag and the tiger quarrelled all night about whose house it was.
At daybreak they decided that they would live together there.
The next night the tiger said to the stag, "I'm going hunting. Get the
water and have the wood ready for the fire. I shall be almost famished
when I return."
The stag got the wood and water ready. After a while the tiger came
back. He brought home for dinner a great handsome stag. The stag had
no appetite at all and he didn't sleep a wink that night.
The next day the stag said that he was going hunting. He told the
tiger to have the wood and water ready when he got back. The tiger got
the wood and water ready. By and by the stag came back bringing with
him the body of a great tiger.
"I am nearly famished," said the stag. "Let's have dinner right away."
The tiger hadn't any appetite at all and he could not eat a mouthful.
That night neither the tiger nor the stag could sleep a wink. The
tiger was afraid the stag would kill him if he shut his eyes for a
minute, and the stag was afraid the tiger would kill him if he slept
or even pretended to be asleep. Accordingly he kept wide awake too.
Toward morning the stag got very cramped from keeping in one position
so long. He moved his head slightly. In doing this his horns struck
against the roof of the house. It made a terrible noise. The tiger
thought that the stag was about to spring upon him and kill him. He
made a leap for the door and ran out of it as fast as he could. He ran
and ran until he was far, far away from the house with the roof of
dried grass.
The stag thought that the tiger was about to spring upon him and kill
him. He, too, made a leap for the door and ran and ran until he was
far, far away from the house with the roof of dried grass. The tiger
and the stag are still running away from each other until this very
day.
The house with the roof of dried grass waited and waited there in the
place which was neither too high nor too low, too near the river nor
too far away, not under too thick trees nor out in the hot sun. It
waited and waited until it go so tired it fell down in a heap.
VII
How the Speckled Hen Got
Her Speckles
Once upon a time, ages and ages ago, there was a little white hen. One
day she was busily engaged in scratching the soil to find worms and
insects for her breakfast. As she worked she sang over and over again
her little crooning song, "Quirrichi, quirrichi, quirrichi." Suddenly
she noticed a tiny piece of paper lying on the ground. "Quirrichi,
quirrichi, what luck!" she said to herself. "This must be a letter.
One time when the king, the great ruler of our country, held his court
in the meadow close by, many people brought him letters and laid them
at his feet. Now I, too, even I, the little white hen, have a letter.
I am going to carry my letter to the king."
The next morning the little white hen started bravely out on her long
journey. She carried the letter very carefully in her little brown
basket. It was a long distance to the royal palace where the king
lived. The little white hen had never been so far from home in all her
life.
After a while she met a friendly fox. Foxes and little white hens are
not usually very good friends, you know, but this fox was a friend of
the little white hen. Once upon a time she had helped the fox to
escape from a trap and the fox had never forgotten her kindness to
him.
"O, little white hen, where are you going?" asked the fox.
"Quirrichi, quirrichi," replied the little white hen, "I am going to
the royal palace to carry a letter to the king."
"Indeed, little white hen," said the fox, "I should like to go with
you. Give me your permission to accompany you on your journey."
"I shall be glad to have you go with me," said the little white hen.
"It is a very long journey to the royal palace where the king lives.
Wouldn't you like me to carry you in my little brown basket?"
The fox climbed into the little brown basket. After the little white
hen had gone on for some distance farther she met a river. Once upon a
time the little white hen had done the river a kindness. He had, with
great difficulty, thrown some ugly worms upon the bank and he was
afraid they would crawl back in again. The little white hen had eaten
them for him. Always after that the river had been her friend.
"O, little white hen, where are you going?" the river called out as
soon as he saw her.
"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am going to the royal palace to carry a
letter to the king," replied the little white hen.
"O, little white hen, may I go with you?" asked the river.
The little white hen told the river that he might go with her and
asked him to ride in the little brown basket. So the river climbed
into the little brown basket.
After the little white hen had journeyed along for a time she came to
a fire. Once upon a time, when the fire had been dying the little
white hen had brought some dried grass. The grass had given the fire
new life and always after that he had been the friend of the little
white hen.
"O, little white hen, where are you going?" the fire asked.
"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am going to the royal palace to carry a
letter to the king," replied the little white hen.
"O, little white hen, may I go with you?" asked the fire. "I have
never been to the royal palace and I have never had even a peep at the
king."
The little white hen told the fire that he might go with her and asked
him to climb into the little brown basket. By this time the little
brown basket was so full, that, try as they might, they couldn't make
room for the fire. At last they thought of a plan. The fire changed
himself into ashes and then there was room for him to get into the
basket.
The little white hen journeyed on and on, and finally she arrived at
the royal palace.
"Who are you and what are you carrying in your little brown basket?"
asked the royal doorkeeper when he opened the door.
"I am the little white hen and I am carrying a letter to the king,"
replied the little white hen. She didn't say a word about the fox and
the river and the fire which she had in her little brown basket. She
was so frightened before the great royal doorkeeper of the palace that
she could hardly find her voice at all.
The royal doorkeeper invited the little white hen to enter the palace
and he led her to the royal throne where the king was sitting. The
little white hen bowed very low before the king--so low, in fact, that
it mussed up all her feathers.
"Who are you and what is your business?" asked the king in his big,
deep, kingly voice.
"Quirrichi, quirrichi, I am the little white hen," replied the little
white hen in her low, frightened, little voice. "I have come to bring
my letter to your royal majesty." She handed the king the piece of
paper which had remained all this time at the bottom of the little
brown basket. There were marks of dirt upon it where the friendly
fox's feet had rested. It was damp where the river had lain. It had
tiny holes in it where the fire had sat after he had turned himself
into hot ashes.
"What do you mean by bringing me this dirty piece of paper?" shouted
the king in his biggest, deepest, gruffest voice. "I am highly
offended. I always knew that hens were stupid little creatures but you
are quite the stupidest little hen I ever saw in all my life."
"Here," and he turned to one of the attendants standing by the throne,
"take this stupid, little white hen and throw her out into the royal
poultry yard. I think we will have her for dinner to-morrow."
The little white hen was roughly seized by the tallest royal attendant
and carried down the back stairs, through the back gate, out into the
royal poultry yard. She still clung to the little brown basket which
she had brought with her on her long journey to the royal palace and
through all the sad experiences she had met there.
When the little white hen reached the royal poultry yard all the royal
fowls flew at her. Some plucked at her rumpled white feathers. Others
tried to pick out her eyes. One pulled off the cover of the little
brown basket.
Out sprang the fox from the little brown basket and in the twinkling
of an eye he fell upon the fowls of the royal poultry yard. Not a
single fowl was left alive.
There was such a great commotion that the king, the queen, the royal
attendants and all the royal servants of the palace came rushing out
to see what was the matter. The fox had already taken to his heels and
the little white hen lost no time in running away too. She did not,
however, forget to take her little brown basket with her.
The royal household all ran after her in swift pursuit. They had
almost caught her when the river suddenly sprang out of the little
brown basket and flowed between the little white hen and her royal
pursuers. They couldn't get across without canoes.
While they were getting the canoes and climbing into them the little
white hen had time to run a long way. She had almost reached a thick
forest where she could easily hide herself when the royal pursuers
again drew near. Then the fire which had changed itself into hot ashes
jumped out of the little brown basket. It immediately became dark, so
dark that the royal household could not even see each other's faces
and, of course, they could not see in which direction the little
white hen was running. There was nothing for them to do but to return
to the royal palace and live on beef and mutton.
The fire which had turned itself into ashes sprang out of the little
brown basket so suddenly that it scattered ashes all over the little
white hen. From that day she was always speckled where the ashes fell
upon her. The chickens of the little white hen (who was now a little
speckled hen) were all speckled too. So were their chickens and their
chickens and their chickens' chickens, even down to this very day.
Whenever you see a speckled hen you may know that she is descended
from the little white hen who carried a letter to the king, and who,
in her adventures, became the first speckled hen.
VIII
How the Monkey Became a
Trickster
Once upon a time there was a beautiful garden in which grew all sorts
of fruits. Many beasts lived in the garden and they were permitted to
eat of the fruits whenever they wished. But they were asked to observe
one rule. They must make a low, polite bow to the fruit tree, call it
by its name, and say, "Please give me a taste of your fruit." They had
to be very careful to remember the tree's correct name and not to
forget to say "please." It was also very important that they should
remember not to be greedy. They must always leave plenty of fruit for
the other beasts who might pass that way, and plenty to adorn the tree
itself and to furnish seed so that other trees might grow. If they
wished to eat figs they had to say, "O, fig tree, O, fig tree, please
give me a taste of your fruit;" or, if they wished to eat oranges they
had to say, "O, orange tree, O, orange tree, please give me a taste of
your fruit."
In one corner of the garden grew the most splendid tree of all. It was
tall and beautiful and the rosy-cheeked fruit upon its wide spreading
branches looked wonderfully tempting. No beast had ever tasted of that
fruit, for no beast could ever remember its name.
In a tiny house near the edge of the garden dwelt a little old woman
who knew the names of all the fruit trees which grew in the garden.
The beasts often went to her and asked the name of the wonderful fruit
tree, but the tree was so far distant from the tiny house of the
little old woman that no beast could ever remember the long, hard name
by the time he reached the fruit tree.
At last the monkey thought of a trick. Perhaps you do not know it, but
the monkey can play the guitar. He always played when the beasts
gathered together in the garden to dance. The monkey went to the tiny
house of the little old woman, carrying his guitar under his arm. When
she told him the long hard name of the wonderful fruit tree he made up
a little tune to it, all his own, and sang it over and over again all
the way from the tiny house of the little old woman to the corner of
the garden where the wonderful fruit tree grew. When any of the other
beasts met him and asked him what new song he was singing to his
guitar, he said never a word. He marched straight on, playing his
little tune over and over again on his guitar and singing softly the
long hard name.
At last he reached the corner of the garden where the wonderful fruit
tree grew. He had never seen it look so beautiful. The rosy-cheeked
fruit glowed in the bright sunlight. The monkey could hardly wait to
make his bow, say the long hard name over twice and ask for the fruit
with a "please." What a beautiful colour and what a delicious odour
that fruit had! The monkey had never in all his life been so near to
anything which smelled so good. He took a big bite. What a face he
made! That beautiful sweet smelling fruit was bitter and sour, and it
had a nasty taste. He threw it away from him as far as he could.
The monkey never forgot the tree's long hard name and the little tune
he had sung. Nor did he forget how the fruit tasted. He never took a
bite of it again; but, after that, his favourite trick was to treat
the other beasts to the wonderful fruit just to see them make faces
when they tasted it.
IX
How the Monkey and the Goat
Earned Their Reputations
Once upon a time the tiger sent an invitation to the goat asking the
goat to accompany him on a visit. The goat promptly accepted the
invitation and at the appointed day they started on their journey to
the house of the tiger's friend. On the way there they came to a
dangerous marsh. The tiger was afraid to cross it, but he pretended to
be very brave. He said to the goat: "Friend Goat, how very pale you
look when you think about crossing the marsh. Don't be afraid. Just go
ahead."
The goat assured the tiger that he was no coward. He thrust out his
chest and marched along toward the marsh like a brave soldier. As
soon, however, as he stepped into the marsh, he fell into the mud and
barely got through it alive. The tiger went around the marsh and
walked on dry ground.