[M] From “More English Fairy Tales,” edited by Joseph Jacobs. Used by permission of the publishers, G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
BY C. F. HOLDER
“Yes,” the little bear cub would say, “that is my picture. I am a native of the State of California. I don’t remember distinctly where I was born, but it was up in the Sierras, where the snow lies in great banks, and the giant trees stand like sentinels, and where you might travel for days and weeks and meet no one but bears.
“The first thing I recollect was finding myself in a big burrow covered with snow, then my mother broke the way out and led us (I had a brother) down the mountain. We soon left the snow; and I remember one day, at sunset, we stood on an overhanging rock, and my mother showed us the green valleys and nice dark forests where we could hide, and far off was the gleaming sea. Mother did not care very much for the water, I think.
“My mother was hungry, after the long winter fast, and every day took us lower and lower, until one night she led us into a sheep ranch. Then our troubles began, for she left us to catch a lamb, and never came back. We heard all about it afterward. Some ranchers had seen her, and rode out on horseback to enjoy the cruel sport of ‘roping a bear’. As they rode around her, one threw his lariat about her neck; another caught her forefoot as she stood up, another her hind leg; and then they dragged her away to the ranch-house—and so we became orphans.
“It was not long before the dogs found us, and a man carried me home in a basket to his wife, who treated me very kindly. I did not like it, but pretended I did, and ate all I could, always watching and hoping for a chance to run away to my mountain home. My mistress, however, soon thought I was too knowing, and put a chain about my neck. Finally, when I was about four months old, they sent me to a friend in San Francisco. I shall never forget how people looked at me and laughed when I stood on my hind legs, as if there was anything laughable in that! But they gave me sugar and other good things, and I fared well.
“My new master was a butcher, and most of the time I stayed in his shop. But some days, when I was very homesick, and longed for my mother, and the little cub who had been carried off, I did not know where, the butcher’s wife would take me into her room back of the shop, and then I would go to sleep, cuddled up close upon a rug, with my paws on her hand, and dream that I was back in my mountain home.
“One day I heard my master say I was to be pho-to-graphed, and I thought my time had come. You see, I had never heard the word before. There was no escape, as I was kept tied, and the next morning my master took me under his big coat in the cable-cars. I could just peep through one of the button-holes, and all at once I uttered a loud whine. You should have seen how the passengers stared at my master, who I know looked embarrassed, as he gave me a tremendous squeeze. We soon got out, and I was carried up a flight of stairs, and placed on a table in a room, the walls of which were covered with pictures of people’s faces, all of which seemed to keep their eyes fixed on me.
“My master petted me and gave me some sugar, and I began to think that being photographed was possibly not so bad, after all. Presently a man came in. He looked very much astonished, and said, ‘Why, I thought you engaged a sitting for “a descendant of one of the early settlers”?’
“‘So I did,’ replied my master; ‘there it is,’ pointing to where I stood up, blinking with all my might.
“‘Why, it’s a cub bear!’ exclaimed the man.
“‘Well, it is a relative of some early settlers, all the same,’ my master answered.
“At this the man smiled good-humoredly, then he went into another room, while my master petted me and gave me so much sugar that I had the toothache from it. After a while the man came back and said he was ready, and I was taken into a room where there was a big thing like a gun on three legs, with a cloth over it. My master sat down in a chair and held me in his lap while the man pointed the gun at us.
“I thought I was to be shot, and tried to get away, and this made the man so cross that he came out from under the cloth and said he couldn’t do it. Then my master put me up in a child’s chair and propped something tight against my head, at which they both laughed so loud you could have heard them in the street, and I jumped down.
“Finally, the man tapped his forehead and said, ‘I have it.’ He put a screen before the gun and my master set me on top of it, holding my chain while the man crept under the cloth. I did not dare move, as I was astride of the screen, my hind feet hanging in the air. I prepared for the worst. Then the man came out again, looked at me sharply, and turned my head a little, telling me to smile, at which my master laughed. The man next shook a tambourine at me, and as I turned to see what the noise meant, I heard a click! and just then my master took me down and carried me home, much to my relief.
“I wondered what it was all about until one day my master took me on his knee, and, holding up a card, said, ‘Well, here you are!’—and what do you suppose it was? Nothing more or less than my picture; just as I was perched astride the screen the day when I thought I was going to be killed. Here it is”:
BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM
This tale, my young readers, will seem to you to be quite false; but still it must be true, for my Grandfather, who used to tell it to me, would wind up by saying, “All this is true, my son, else it would never have been told to me.” The tale runs thus:—
It was a fine summer’s morning, just before harvest-time; the buckwheat was in flower, and the sun was shining brightly in the heaven above, a breeze was blowing over the fields, where the larks were singing; and along the paths the people were going to church dressed in their best. Every creature seemed contented, even the Hedgehog, who stood before his door singing as he best could a joyful song in praise of the fine morning. Indoors, meanwhile, his Wife was washing and drying the kitchen, before going into the fields for a walk to see how the crops were getting on. She was such a long while, however, about her work that Mr. Hedgehog would wait no longer, and trotted off by himself. He had not walked any very long distance before he came to a small thicket, near a field of cabbages, and there he espied a Hare, who he guessed had come on a similar errand to himself; namely, to devour a few fine heads. As soon as Mr. Hedgehog saw the Hare, he wished him a good morning; but the latter, who was in his way a high-minded creature, turned a fierce and haughty look upon the Hedgehog, and made no reply to his greeting. He asked, instead, in a very majestic tone, how he came to be walking abroad at such an early hour. “I am taking a walk,” replied the Hedgehog.
“A walk!” repeated the Hare, in an ironical tone, “methinks you might employ your legs about something better!”
This answer vexed the Hedgehog most dreadfully, for he could have borne anything better than to be quizzed about his legs, because they were naturally short, and from no fault of his own. However, he said to the Hare, “Well, you need not be so proud, pray, what can you do with those legs of yours?” “That is my affair,” replied the Hare. “I expect, if you would venture a trial, that I should beat you in a race,” said the Hedgehog.
“You are laughing! you, with your short legs!” said the Hare contemptuously. “But still, since you have such a particular wish, I have no objection to try. What shall the wager be?”
“A louis d’or,” replied the Hedgehog.
“Done!” said the Hare, “and it may as well come off at once.”
“No! not in such great haste, if you please,” said the Hedgehog; “I am not quite ready yet; I must first go home and freshen up a bit. Within half-an-hour I will return to this place.”
Thereupon the Hedgehog hurried off, leaving the Hare very merry. On his way home the former thought to himself, “Mr. Hare is very haughty and high-minded, but withal he is very stupid, and although he thinks to beat me with his long legs, I will find a way to defeat him.” So, as soon as the Hedgehog reached home, he told his Wife to dress herself at once to go into the field with him.
“What is the matter?” asked his Wife.
“I have made a wager with the Hare, for a louis d’or, to run a race with him, and you must be witness.”
“My goodness, man! are you in your senses!” said the Wife, “do you know what you are about? How can you expect to run so fast as the Hare?”
“Hold your tongue, Wife; that is my affair. Don’t you reason about men’s business. March, and get ready to come with me.”
As soon, then, as the Hedgehog’s Wife was ready they set out together; and on the way he said, “Now attend to what I say. On the long field yonder we shall decide our bet. The Hare is to run on the one side of the hedge and I on the other, and so all you have to do is to stop at one end of the hedge, and then when the Hare arrives on the other side at the same point, you must call out, ‘I am here already.’”
They soon came to the field, and the Hedgehog stationed himself at one end of the hedge, and his Wife at the other end; and as soon as they had taken their places the Hare arrived. “Are you ready to start?” asked the Hare. “Yes,” answered the Hedgehog, and each took his place. “Off once, off twice, three times and off!” cried the Hare, and ran up the field like a whirlwind; while the Hedgehog took three steps and then returned to his place.
The Hare soon arrived at his goal, as he ran all the way at top speed, but before he could reach it, the Hedgehog’s Wife on the other side called out, “I am here already!” The Hare was thunderstruck to hear this said, for he thought it really was his opponent, since there was no difference in the voices of the Hedgehog and his Wife. “This will not do!” thought the Hare to himself; but presently he called out, “Once, twice, and off again;” and away he went as fast as possible, leaving the Hedgehog quietly sitting in her place. “I am here before you,” cried Mr. Hedgehog, as soon as the Hare approached. “What! again?” exclaimed the Hare in a rage; and added, “Will you dare another trial!” “Oh! as many as you like; do not be afraid on my account,” said Mr. Hedgehog, courteously.
So the Hare then ran backwards and forwards three-and-seventy times, but each time the Hedgehogs had the advantage of him, for either Mr. or Mrs. shouted before he could reach the goal, “Here I am already!”
The four-and-seventieth time the Hare was unable to run any more. In the middle of the course he stopped and dropped down quite exhausted, and there he lay motionless for some time. But the Hedgehog took the louis d’or which he had won, and went composedly home with his Wife.
a scotch story, attributed to robert burns
adapted by jennie ellis burdick
There was an old gray Pussy Cat, and she went away down by a brookside. There she saw a wee Robin Redbreast hopping on a brier bush.
Says the gray Pussy Cat: “Where are you going, wee Robin?”
And the wee Robin makes answer: “I’m going away to the King to sing him a song this glad Christmas morning.”
And the gray Pussy Cat says, “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll let you see a pretty white ring I have around my neck.”
But the wee Robin says: “No, no! gray Pussy Cat, no, no! You worried the wee mousie, but you cannot worry me!”
So the wee Robin flew away until he came to a wall of earth and grass, and there he saw a gray greedy Hawk sitting.
And the gray greedy Hawk says: “Where are you going, wee Robin?”
And the wee Robin makes answer: “I’m going away to the King to sing him a song this glad Christmas morning.”
And the gray greedy Hawk says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll let you see the bright feather in my wing.”
But wee Robin says: “No, no! gray greedy Hawk, no, no! You pecked the little Meadowlark, but you cannot peck me!”
So the wee Robin flew away until he came to a steep, rocky hillside, and there he saw a sly Fox sitting. And the sly Fox says, “Where are you going, wee Robin?”
And the wee Robin makes answer: “I’m going away to the King to sing him a song this glad Christmas morning.”
And the sly Fox says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll let you see the pretty spot on the tip of my tail.”
But the wee Robin says: “No, no! sly Fox, no, no! You worried the little Lamb, but you cannot worry me!”
So the wee Robin flew away until he came to a grassy meadow, and there he saw a little shepherd boy.
And the little shepherd says: “Where are you going, wee Robin?”
And wee Robin makes answer: “I’m going away to the King to sing him a song this glad Christmas morning.”
And the little shepherd boy says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll give you some crumbs from my lunch.”
But the wee Robin says: “No, no! little shepherd boy, no, no! You caught the Goldfinch, but you cannot catch me!”
So the wee Robin flew away till he came to the King; and there he sat on a plowshare, and sang the King a cheery song. And the King says to the Queen: “What will we give to the wee Robin for singing us this cheery song?”
And the Queen makes answer to the King: “I think we’ll give him the wee Wren to be his wife.”
So the wee Robin and the wee Wren were married, and the King and the Queen, and all the court danced at the wedding. Then the wee Robin and the wee Wren flew away home to the wee Robin’s own brookside, and hopped on the brier bush.
The Fox set out in a hungry plight,
And begged the moon to give him light,
For he’d many a mile to travel that night
Before he could reach his den O!
First he came to a farmer’s yard,
Where the ducks and geese declared it was hard
That their nerves should be shaken, and their rest be marred
By a visit from Mr. Fox O!
He seized the gray goose by the sleeve,
Says he, “Madam Gray Goose, by your leave,
I’ll carry you off without reprieve,
And take you away to my den O!”
He seized the gray duck by the neck,
And flung her over across his back,
While the old duck cried out, “Quack, quack, quack,”
With her legs dangling down behind O!
Then old Mrs. Flipper Flapper jumped out of bed,
And out of the window she popped her head,
Crying, “John, John, John, the gray goose is gone,
And the Fox is off to his den O!”
Then John went up to the top of the hill,
And he blew a blast both loud and shrill.
Says the Fox, “That is fine music, still
I’d rather be off to my den O!”
So the Fox he hurried home to his den,
To his dear little foxes eight, nine, ten.
Says he, “We’re in luck, here’s a big fat duck
With her legs dangling down behind O!”
Then the Fox sat down with his hungry wife,
And they made a good meal without fork or knife.
They never had a better time in all their life,
And the little ones picked the bones O!
BY DINAH MARIA MULOCK-CRAIK
We go on our walk together—
Baby and dog and I—
Three little merry companions,
’Neath any sort of sky
Blue as our baby’s eyes are,
Gray like our old dog’s tail;
Be it windy or cloudy or stormy,
Our courage will never fail.
Baby’s a little lady;
Dog is a gentleman brave;
If he had two legs as you have,
He’d kneel to her like a slave;
As it is, he loves and protects her,
As dog and gentleman can.
I’d rather be a kind doggie,
I think, than a cruel man.
BY FRANK MUNRO
To Pussy-town, the other day,
The movies came.
And you must know,
The only chance mice have to play
Is when the cats
Go to the show!
(Yes, mice have certain little “rights”—
Though I confess
’Em hard to see!
And one is to stay up o’ nights
And steal our cheese—
If cheese there be!)
Well, in the playhouse, on the screen,
The pussies saw
(And so may you)
True love run smoothly, I ween:
But “also ran,”
A dog in blue!
The foolish cats, in great alarm,
Dashed out, nor
Asked for money back!—
A dog policeman has no charm
When he is close
Upon one’s track!
They did not use their heads. I fear;
(Some boys and girls
Are just like that)
And so the pussies now must hear
The grown folks say
“’Fraid cat! ’Fraid cat!”
BY MARY HOWITT
“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the Spider to the Fly,
“’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there.”
“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain;
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”
“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin;
And if you like to rest a while, I’ll snugly tuck you in!”
“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, “Dear friend, what can I do
To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?
I have, within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome—will you please to take a slice?”
“Oh, no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind sir, that cannot be,
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”
“Sweet creature,” said the Spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise;
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf;
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I’ll call another day.”
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon be back again;
So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing:
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple, there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.”
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by:
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew—
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue;
Thinking only of her crested head—poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den
Within his little parlor—but she ne’er came out again!