Volume One [Illustration: The Young Folks Treasury]
NEW YORK
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
INCORPORATED
1927
COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.
COPYRIGHT, 1909, 1917, BY
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.
EDITORS
HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE, L.H.D., LL.D.
EDWARD EVERETT HALE, D.D., LL.D.
WILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH, Ph.D., Litt.D.
ASSISTANT EDITOR
JENNIE ELLIS BURDICK
_Partial List of Authors and Editors Represented in The Young Folks
Treasury by Selections from Their Writings:_
WOODROW WILSON, Twenty-eighth President of the United States.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Twenty-sixth President of the United States.
HENRY VAN DYKE, poet, essayist, and diplomatist.
LYMAN ABBOTT, editor of "The Outlook."
RUDYARD KIPLING, poet and story-teller.
GENERAL SIR R. S. BADEN-POWELL, founder of the Boy Scouts.
BECKLES WILLSON, author of "The Romance of Canada."
IDA PRENTICE WHITCOMB, author of "Young People's Story of Art."
ELLEN VELVIN, writer of animal stories.
MARY MACGREGOR, author of "King Arthur's Knights," etc.
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR, author of boys' stories.
T. GILBERT PEARSON, executive secretary, National Association
of Audubon Societies.
JOSEPH JACOBS, authority upon folklore.
THEODORE WOOD, writer on natural history.
ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, writer of stories about natural
history and founder of the Woodcraft League.
AMY STEEDMAN, writer on biography.
EVERETT T. TOMLINSON, author of boys' stories.
RALPH D. PAINE, author of boys' stories.
A. FREDERICK COLLINS, author of boys' books.
DON C. BLISS, educator.
BLISS CARMAN, poet and essayist.
SIR JAMES MATTHEW BARRIE, novelist.
WILLIAM CANTON, story-teller.
HERMANN HAGEDORN, poet.
ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS, writer of boys' stories.
ALFRED G. GARDINER, editor of "The London News."
FRANKLIN K. LANE, United States Secretary of the Interior.
JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS, creator of "Uncle Remus."
ERNEST INGERSOLL, naturalist.
WILLIAM L. FINLEY, State biologist, Oregon.
CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, writer of animal stories.
E. NESBIT, novelist and poet.
ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, author of "How It Is Done," etc.
IRA REMSEN, former president of Johns Hopkins University.
GIFFORD PINCHOT, professor of forestry, Yale University.
GUSTAVE KOBBÉ, writer of biographies.
JACOB A. RIIS, philanthropist and author.
EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER, story-writer and poet.
JOHN LANG, writer of children's books.
JEANIE LANG, writer of children's books.
JOHN H. CLIFFORD, editor and writer.
HERBERT T. WADE, editor and writer on physics.
CHARLES R. GIBSON, writer on electricity.
LILIAN CASK, writer on natural history.
BLANCHE MARCHESI, opera singer and teacher.
JOHN FINNEMORE, traveler and writer of boys' stories.
ALEXANDER GRAHAM BELL, inventor of the telephone.
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, poet.
CHARLES H. CAFFIN, author of "A Guide to Pictures."
JAMES CARDINAL GIBBONS.
ANDREW F. CURRIER, M.D., popular medical writer.
HELEN KELLER, the blind and deaf writer.
OLIVER HERFORD, humorist and illustrator.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
* * * * *
Books are as much a part of the furnishing of a house as tables and
chairs, and in the making of a home they belong, not with the luxuries
but with the necessities. A bookless house is not a home; for a home
affords food and shelter for the mind as well as for the body. It is
as great an offence against a child to starve his mind as to starve
his body, and there is as much danger of reducing his vitality and
putting him at a disadvantage in his lifework in the one as in the
other form of deprivation. There was a time when it was felt that
shelter, clothing, food and physical oversight comprised the whole
duty of a charitable institution to dependent children; to-day no
community would permit such an institution to exist unless it provided
school privileges. An acute sense of responsibility toward children
is one of the prime characteristics of American society, shown in the
vast expenditures for public education in all forms, in the increasing
attention paid to light, ventilation, and safety in school buildings,
in the opening of play grounds in large cities, in physical
supervision of children in schools, and the agitation against the
employment of children in factories, and in other and less obvious
ways.
Children are helpless to protect themselves and secure what they need
for health of body and mind; they are exceedingly impressionable; and
the future is always in their hands. The first and most imperative
duty of parents is to give their children the best attainable
preparation for life, no matter at what sacrifice to themselves. There
are hosts of fathers and mothers who recognize this obligation but do
not know how to discharge it; who are eager to give their children the
most wholesome conditions, but do not know how to secure them; who are
especially anxious that their children should start early and start
right on that highway of education which is the open road to honorable
success. There are many homes in which books would find abundant room
if the heads of the families knew what books to buy, or had the means
to put into the hands of the growing child the reading matter it needs
in the successive periods of its growth.
This condition of eagerness to give the best, and of ignorance of how
or where to find the best is the justification for the publication
of this set of books. The attempt has been made in a series of twelve
volumes to bring together in convenient form the fairy stories, myths,
and legends which have fed the children of many generations in the
years when the imagination is awakening and craving stimulus and
material to work upon;--that age of myth-making which is a prelude to
the more scientific uses of the mind and of immense importance in an
intensely practical age;--a group of tales of standard quality and
an interest and value which have placed them among the permanent
possessions of English literature; a careful selection of stories
of animal life; a natural history, familiar in style and thoroughly
trustworthy in fact; an account of those travels and adventures which
have opened up the earth and made its resources available, and which
constitute one of the most heroic chapters in the history of the
long struggle of men to possess the earth and make it a home for
the highest kind of civilization; a record of heroism taken from the
annals of the patriots and of those brave men who, in all ages, ranks
of society and occupations, have dared to face great dangers in the
path of duty and science, with special attention to that everyday
heroism in which the age is specially rich and of which so many good
people are grossly ignorant; a survey of scientific achievement, with
reports of recent discoveries in knowledge and adaptation of knowledge
to human need; a group of biographies of the men and women--mostly
Americans--who are the most stimulating companions for boys and girls;
a volume on the Fine Arts dealing with music, painting, sculpture,
architecture, in a way to instruct young readers and making accessible
a large number of those songs which appeal in the best way to children
in schools and homes; a collection of the best poetry for the youngest
and oldest readers, chosen not only for excellence from the standpoint
of art, but deep and abiding human interest; and a volume devoted to
the occupations and resources of the home, addressed to parents no
less than to children, with practical suggestions about books and
reading, games and amusements, exercise and health, and those kindred
topics which have to do with making the home wholesome and attractive.
These twelve volumes aim, in brief, to make the home the most
inspiring school and the most attractive place for pleasure, and
to bring the best the world has to offer of adventure, heroism,
achievement and beauty within its four walls.
Special attention has been given to the youngest children whose
interests are often neglected because they are thought to be too
immature to receive serious impressions from what is read to them.
Psychology is beginning to make us understand that no greater
mistake can be made in the education of children than underrating the
importance of the years when the soil receives the seed most quickly.
For education of the deepest sort--the planting of those formative
ideas which give final direction and quality to the intellectual
life--there is no period so important as the years between three and
six, and none so fruitful. To put in the seed at that time is, as a
rule, to decide the kind of harvest the child will reap later; whether
he shall be a shrewd, keen, clever, ambitious man, with a hard,
mechanical mind, bent on getting the best of the world; or a generous,
fruitful, open-minded man, intent on living the fullest life in mind
and heart. No apology is offered for giving large space to myths,
legends, fairy stories, tales of all sorts, and to poetry; for in
these expressions of the creative mind is to be found the material on
which the imagination has fed in every age and which is, for the most
part, conspicuously absent from our educational programmes.
America has at present greater facility in producing "smart" men than
in producing able men; the alert, quick-witted, money-maker abounds,
but the men who live with ideas, who care for the principles
of things, and who make life rich in resource and interest are
comparatively few. America needs poetry more than it needs industrial
training; though the two ought never to be separated. The time to
awaken the imagination, which is the creative faculty, is early
childhood; and the most accessible material for this education is the
literature which the race created in its childhood. The creative man,
whether in the arts or in practical affairs, in poetry, in engineering
or in business, is always the man of imagination.
In this library for young people the attempt has been made not only
to give the child what it needs but in the form which is most easily
understood. For this reason some well-known stories have been
retold in simpler English than their classic forms present. This is
especially true of many tales for any young children reprinted by
special arrangement from recent English sources. In some cases, where
the substance has seemed of more importance to the child than the
form, simpler words and forms of expression have been substituted for
more complex or abstract phrases, and passages of minor importance
have been condensed or omitted.
The aim in making the selections in this set of books has been to
interest the child and give it what it needs for normal growth; the
material has been taken from many sources old and new; much of the
reading matter presented has been familiar in one form or another, to
generations of children; much has appeared for the first time within
the last ten years; a considerable part has been prepared especially
for the Treasury and a large part has been selected from the best
writing in the various fields.
It is the hope of the Editor that this "Treasury" or "Library" will
justify its title by its real and fundamental service to children and
parents alike.
HAMILTON W. MABIE
INTRODUCTION
Since this series of books is intended for all young people from one
to one hundred, it opens with about eighty of the old MOTHER GOOSE
RHYMES. Nothing better was ever invented to tell to little folks who
are young enough for lullabies. Their rhythm, their humor, and their
pith will always cause us to prize them as the Babies' Classics.
Next come a score of the most famous NURSERY TALES, the kind that
children cry for and love to hear fifty times over. And since, just
as soon as little folks like stories they love to hear them in rhyme,
here are forty CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS.
What would young life be without "Puss in Boots" and "Little Red
Riding Hood" and "The Sleeping Beauty"? Our TREASURY would indeed be
poor without them, so these FAVORITE STORIES come next, yoked
with some OLD-FASHIONED POEMS in story-form, as "The Night before
Christmas," "The Wonderful World," and "Little Orphant Annie." All who
love pets and animals have always liked FABLES, so here are the noted
parables of Æsop, and the lesser-known but even more jolly tales from
East Indian sources.
The fairy-tale age is supposed to come from four to nine, but the
editors are sure it lasts much longer than that. However this may be,
the better half of our first volume is given up to FAIRY TALES AND
LAUGHTER STORIES from all over the world.
It ends with TALES FOR TINY TOTS, the kind that mother reads beside
the fire at bedtime, some of them old, like the "Little Red Hen" and
"Peter Rabbit," and some of them newer, like "The Greedy Brownie" and
"The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen."
WILLIAM BYRON FORBUSH.
CONTENTS
General Introduction to Young Folks' Treasury vii
Introduction xi
NURSERY RHYMES
Hush-a-bye, Baby, on the Tree-top; Rock-a-bye, Baby
thy Cradle is Green; Bye, Baby Bunting; Hush
Thee, my Babby; Sleep, Baby, Sleep; This Little
Pig Went to Market; etc., etc. 1-31
NURSERY TALES
The Three Bears 32
Cinderella 35
The Three Brothers 41
The Wren and the Bear 42
Chicken-Licken 45
The Fox and the Cat 47
The Rats and their Son-in-Law 48
The Mouse and the Sausage 50
Johnny and the Golden Goose 51
Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse 56
Teeny Tiny 58
The Spider and the Flea 60
The Little Shepherd Boy 61
The Three Spinners 62
The Cat and the Mouse in Partnership 65
The Sweet Soup 68
The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean 68
Why the Bear Has a Stumpy Tail 70
The Three Little Pigs 71
CHILDREN'S FAVORITE POEMS
The Three Children 75
The Owl and the Pussy-Cat--_Edward Lear_ 75
Kindness to Animals 77
How Doth the Little Busy Bee--_Isaac Watts_ 77
Suppose--_Phoebe Cary_ 78
Twinkle, Twinkle 79
Pretty Cow--_Jane Taylor_ 80
The Three Little Kittens--_Eliza Lee Follen_ 80
The Land of Counterpane--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 82
There was a Little Girl--_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 82
The Boy who never Told a Lie 83
Foreign Children--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84
The Unseen Playmate--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 84
I saw Three Ships 85
A Was an Ant--_Edward Lear_ 86
The Table and the Chair--_Edward Lear_ 91
Precocious Piggy--_Thomas Hood_ 93
A Boy's Song--_James Hogg_ 94
Buttercups and Daisies--_Mary Howitt_ 95
The Violet--_Jane Taylor_ 96
If ever I See--_Lydia Maria Child_ 97
The Little Land--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 97
A Lobster Quadrille--_Lewis Carroll_ 99
Where Go the Boats--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 100
The Wind and the Moon--_George Macdonald_ 101
Where are you Going my Pretty Maid 103
The Lost Doll--_Charles Kingsley_ 104
Foreign Lands--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 104
Bed in Summer--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 105
Try Again 106
A Good Play--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 106
Good Night and Good Morning--_Richard Monckton Milnes_ 107
The Wind--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 108
The Spider and the Fly--_Mary Howitt_ 109
Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite--_Isaac Watts_ 110
Child's Evening Hymn--_Sabine Baring-Gould_ 111
CHILDREN'S FAVORITE STORIES
Hansel and Gretel 113
The Fair Catherine and Pif-Paf Poltrie 120
The Wolf and the Fox 122
Descreet Hans 123
Puss in Boots 126
The Elves and the Shoemaker 131
Hans in Luck 133
Master of All Masters 138
Belling the Cat 139
Little Red Riding-Hood 140
The Nail 144
Jack and the Beanstalk 145
How to Tell a True Princess 149
The Sleeping Beauty 150
OLD FASHIONED POEMS
The Man in the Moon--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 158
Sage Counsel--_Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch_ 160
Limericks--_Edward Lear_ 161
More Limericks--_Rudyard Kipling_ and _Anonymous_ 162
The Dead Doll--_Margaret Vandergrift_ 163
Little Things--_Ascribed to Julia A. F. Carney_ 165
The Golden Rule--_Unknown_ 165
Do the Best You Can--_Unknown_ 165
The Voice of Spring 166
The Lark and the Rook--_Unknown_ 166
Thanksgiving Day--_Lydia Maria Child_ 168
The Magpie's Nest--_Unknown_ 169
The Fairies of Caldon Low--_Mary Howitt_ 169
The Land of Story Books--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 172
A Visit From St. Nicholas--_Clement Clarke Moore_ 173
Little Orphant Annie--_James Whitcombe Riley_ 175
The Chatterbox--_Ann Taylor_ 177
The Voice of Spring--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 178
The History Lesson--_Anonymous_ 179
Song of Life--_Charles Mackay_ 180
The Good Time Coming--_Charles Mackay_ 181
Windy Nights--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 183
The Wonderful World--_William Brighty Rands_ 184
Hark! Hark! The Lark--_William Shakespeare_ 185
Jog On, Jog On--_William Shakespeare_ 185
Sweet Story of Old--_Jemima Luke_ 186
My Shadow--_Robert Louis Stevenson_ 186
By Cool Siloam's Shady Rill--_Reginald Heber_ 187
The Wind in a Frolic--_William Howitt_ 188
The Graves of a Household--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 189
We Are Seven--_William Wordsworth_ 190
The Better Land--_Felicia Dorothea Hemans_ 193
The Juvenile Orator--_David Everett_ 194
The Fox and the Crow--_Little B. (Taylor?)_ 195
The Use of Flowers--_Mary Howitt_ 196
Contented John--_Jane Taylor_ 197
The Old Man's Comforts, and How He Gained Them--_Robert Southey_ 198
The Frost--_Hannah Flagg Gould_ 199
The Battle of Blenheim--_Robert Southey_ 200
The Chameleon--_James Merrick_ (_from M. de Lamotte_) 202
The Blackberry Girl--_Unknown_ 205
Mabel on Midsummer Day--_Mary Howitt_ 207
Llewellyn and his Dog--_Willim Robert Spencer_ 214
The Snowbird's Song--_Francis C. Woodworth_ 217
For A' That and A' That--_Robert Burns_ 218
FABLES
FABLES FROM ÆSOP
The Goose that Laid Golden Eggs 220
The Boys and the Frogs 220
The Lion and the Mouse 220
The Fox and the Grapes 221
The Frog and the Ox 221
The Cat, the Monkey, and the Chestnuts 221
The Country Maid and Her Milkpail 222
The Ass in the Lion's Skin 222
The Tortoise and the Hare 223
The Vain Jackdaw 223
The Fox Without a Tail 224
The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 224
The Crow and the Pitcher 225
The Man, his Son, and his Ass 225
FABLES OF INDIA
_Adapted by P. V. Ramaswami Raju_
The Camel and the Pig 226
The Man and his Piece of Cloth 227
The Sea, the Fox, and the Wolf 227
The Birds and the Lime 228
The Raven and the Cattle 228
Tinsel and Lightning 229
The Ass and the Watchdog 229
The Lark and its Young Ones 230
The Two Gems 230
FAIRY TALES AND LAUGHTER STORIES
SCANDINAVIAN STORIES
The Hardy Tin Soldier--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 232
The Fir Tree--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 236
The Darning-Needle--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 245
Thumbelina--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 248
The Tinder-Box--_Hans Christian Andersen_ 258
Boots and his Brothers--_George Webbe Dasent_ 268
The Husband who was to Mind the House
_George Webbe Dasent_ 273
Buttercup--_George Webbe Dasent_ 275
GERMAN STORIES
Seven at One Blow--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 279
One Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 286
The Musicians of Bremen--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 293
The Fisherman and his Wife--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 296
Little Snow-White--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 304
The Goose Girl--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 313
The Golden Bird--_Wilhelm and Jakob Grimm_ 318
FRENCH STORIES
Beauty and the Beast--_Adapted by E. Nesbit_ 326
The White Cat--_The Comtesse d'Aulnoy_ 335
The Story of Pretty Goldilocks 341
Toads and Diamonds 346
ENGLISH STORIES
The History of Tom-Thumb--_Adapted by Ernest Rhys_ 349
Jack the Giant Killer--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 356
The Three Sillies--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 366
CELTIC STORIES
King O'Toole and his Goose--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 370
The Haughty Princess--_Adapted by Patrick Kennedy_ 373
Jack and his Master--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 376
Hudden and Dudden and Donald O'Neary
_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 383
Connla of the Golden Hair and the Fairy Maiden
_Adapted by Patrick Weston Joyce_ 389
ITALIAN STORIES
Pinocchio's Adventures in Wonderland--_Carlo Lorenzini_ 394
JAPANESE STORIES
The Story of the Man who did not wish to Die
_Adapted by Yei Theodora Ozaki_ 420
The Accomplished and Lucky Teakettle
_Adapted by A. B. Mitford_ 427
The Tongue-cut Sparrow 428
Battle of the Monkey and the Crab 429
Momotaro, or Little Peachling 431
Uraschina Taro and the Turtle 432
EAST INDIAN STORIES
The Son of Seven Queens--_Adapted by Joseph Jacobs_ 436
Who Killed the Otter's Babies--_Adapted by Walter Skeat_ 444
The Alligator and the Jackal--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 446
The Farmer and the Money Lender 450
Tit for Tat--_Adapted by M. Frere_ 452
Singh Rajah and the Cunning Little Jackals
_Adapted by M. Frere_ 454
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
The White Stone Canoe--_Adapted by H. R. Schoolcraft_ 456
The Maiden who Loved a Fish 459
The Star Wife 462
ARABIAN STORIES
The Story of Caliph Stork 468
Persevere and Prosper--_Adapted by A. R. Montalba_ 473
CHINESE STORIES
The Most Frugal of Men 476
The Moon-Cake 477
The Ladle that Fell from the Moon 478
The Young Head of the Family 480
A Dreadful Boar 484
RUSSIAN STORIES
King Kojata 487
The Story of King Frost 492
TALES FOR TINY TOTS
Tell Us a Tale--_Edward Shirley_ 496
Little Red Hen 497
In Search of a Baby--_F. Tapsell_ 498
Jock and I and the Others 500
Dolly Dimple--_F. Tapsell_ 502
The Tale of Peter Rabbit--_Beatrix Potter_ 503
The Miller, His Son, and Their Ass 506
The Visit to Santa Claus Land 507
The Greedy Brownie 511
The Fairies' Passage--_James Clarence Mangan_ 513
The World 515
FANCIFUL STORIES
White Magic 516
The Brownies--_Juliana Horatia Ewing_ 517
The Story of Peter Pan 522
Sir Lark and King Sun--_George MacDonald_ 525
The Imps in the Heavenly Meadow--_Kate E. Bunce_ 526
The Birthday Honors of the Fairy Queen--_Hapgood Moore_ 531
ILLUSTRATIONS
Thumbelina Came to Live with the Field-Mouse (_color_) Frontispiece
Simple Simon Went a-Fishing Facing Page 6
There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe 8
Little Miss Muffet 8
Old Mother Hubbard 18
The Death of Cock-Robin 26
"Who Has Been Tasting My Soup?" 34
It Was Her Fairy Godmother! 38
I Was the Giant Great and Still, that Sits Upon the Pillow Hill 82
I Found My Poor Little Doll 104
A Fair Little Girl Sat Under a Tree 108
Hansel and Gretel 118
Do Not Grieve, Dear Master 126
Little Red Riding-Hood 140
Red Riding-Hood and the Wolf 142
Prince Florimond Finds the Sleeping Beauty 150
The Tortoise and the Hare 222
The Fox without a Tail 222
A Voice Said Aloud, "The Tin Soldier!" 234
Two-Eyes, the Goat, and the 'Magic Table 286
Little Snow-White and the Peddler-Woman 306
The Prince Starts Homeward with His Treasure 322
The Castle of the White Cat 336
She Was Happy All Day Long in Fairyland 340
This is the Valiant Cornishman Who Slew the Giant Cormoran 358
Connla and the Fairy Maiden 390
A Pheasant Also Came Flying and Said: "Give Me a Dumpling" 434
_(Many of the illustrations in this volume are reproduced by special
permission of E. P. Dutton & Company, owners of the American rights.)_
CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITES
AND
FAIRY STORIES
* * * * *
NURSERY RHYMES
Hush-a-bye, baby, on the tree-top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, bough, cradle, and all.
* * * * *
Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green;
Father's a nobleman, mother's a Queen;
Betty's a lady, and wears a gold ring;
And Johnny's a drummer, and drums for the King.
* * * * *
Bye, baby bunting,
Daddy's gone a-hunting,
To get a little rabbit-skin,
To wrap his baby bunting in.
* * * * *
Hush thee, my babby,
Lie still with thy daddy,
Thy mammy has gone to the mill,
To grind thee some wheat
To make thee some meat,
And so, my dear babby, lie still.
* * * * *
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy father watches the sheep;
Thy mother is shaking the dream-land tree,
And down falls a little dream on thee:
Sleep, baby, sleep!
Sleep, baby, sleep.
The large stars are the sheep,
The wee stars are the lambs, I guess,
The fair moon is the shepherdess:
Sleep, baby, sleep!
* * * * *
This little pig went to market;
This little pig stayed at home;
This little pig had roast beef;
This little pig had none;
This little pig said, "Wee, wee!
I can't find my way home."
* * * * *
Brow bender,
Eye peeper,
Nose smeller,
Mouth eater,
Chin chopper.
Knock at the door--peep in
Lift up the latch--walk in
Eye winker,
Tom Tinker,
Nose smeller,
Mouth eater,
Chin chopper.
Chin chopper.
* * * * *
Here sits the Lord Mayor,
Here sit his two men,
Here sits the cock,
And here sits the hen;
Here sit the chickens,
And here they go in,
Chippety, chippety, chippety chin.
* * * * *
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!
So I do, master, as fast as I can:
Pat it, and prick it, and mark it with T,
Put it in the oven for Tommy and me.
* * * * *
Pat it, kiss it,
Stroke it, bless it;
Three days' sunshine, three days' rain,
Little hand all well again.
* * * * *
Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I,
Three bags full:
One for my master,
One for my dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives in the lane.
* * * * *
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
Where have you been?
I've been to London
To look at the Queen
Pussy-cat, pussy-cat,
What did you there?
I frightened a little mouse
Under her chair.
* * * * *
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see an old lady upon a white horse,
Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes.
* * * * *
Bobby Shaftoe's gone to sea,
Silver buckles on his knee;
He'll come back and marry me,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.
Bobby Shaftoe's fat and fair,
Combing down his yellow hair;
He's my love for evermair,
Pretty Bobby Shaftoe.
* * * * *
Tom, he was a piper's son,
He learned to play when he was young,
And all the tune that he could play
Was, "Over the hills and far away,"
Over the hills, and a great way off,
The wind will blow my top-knot off.
Now, Tom with his pipe made such a noise
That he well pleased both the girls and boys,
And they always stopped to hear him play
"Over the hills and far away."
* * * * *
Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home,
Thy house is on fire, thy children all gone:
All but one whose name is Ann,
And she crept under the pudding-pan.
* * * * *
The north wind doth blow,
And we shall have snow,
And what will the robin do then,
Poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn,
And keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing,
Poor thing!
* * * * *
I had a little pony,
His name was Dapple-gray,
I lent him to a lady,
To ride a mile away;
She whipped him, she lashed him,
She rode him through the mire;
I would not lend my pony now
For all the lady's hire.
* * * * *
I had a little doggy that used to sit and beg;
But Doggy tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg.
Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, and try to make you well,
And you shall have a collar with a little silver bell.
* * * * *
Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Let me taste your ware."
Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
"Show me first your penny."
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
"Indeed I have not any."
Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a whale;
But all the water he could find
Was in his mother's pail!
* * * * *
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down, and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
Up Jack got and home did trot
As fast as he could caper;
Went to bed to mend his head
With vinegar and brown paper.
Jill came in and she did grin,
To see his paper plaster,
Mother, vexed, did whip her next,
For causing Jack's disaster.
* * * * *
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Where's the boy that looks after the sheep?
He's under the haycock, fast asleep.
* * * * *
Old Mother Goose, when
She wanted to wander,
Would ride through the air
On a very fine gander.
Mother Goose had a house,
'T was built in a wood,
Where an owl at the door
For sentinel stood.
She had a son Jack,
A plain-looking lad;
He was not very good,
Nor yet very bad.
She sent him to market,
A live goose he bought:
"Here! mother," says he,
"It will not go for nought."
Jack's goose and her gander
Grew very fond;
They'd both eat together,
Or swim in one pond.
Jack found one morning,
As I have been told,
His goose had laid him
An egg of pure gold.
Jack rode to his mother,
The news for to tell.
She called him a good boy,
And said it was well.
* * * * *
Goosey, goosey, gander,
Where shall I wander?
Upstairs, downstairs,
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who would not say his prayers;
I took him by the left leg,
And threw him downstairs.
* * * * *
I'll tell you a story
About Mary Morey,
And now my story's begun,
I'll tell you another
About her brother,
And now my story's done.
* * * * *
Three wise men of Gotham,
Went to sea in a bowl;
If the bowl had been stronger,
My song had been longer.
* * * * *
There was a crooked man,
And he went a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence
Upon a crooked stile:
He bought a crooked cat,
That caught a crooked mouse--
And they all lived together
In a little crooked house.
* * * * *
There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise,
He jumped into a bramble bush,
And scratched out both his eyes;
But when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main,
He jumped into another bush,
And scratched 'em in again.
* * * * *
Hey! diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed
To see such sport,
While the dish ran away with the spoon.
* * * * *
Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock;
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.
* * * * *
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread,
She whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
* * * * *
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a great spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
* * * * *
If all the seas were one sea,
What a _great_ sea that would be!
And if all the trees were one tree,
What a _great_ tree that would be!
And if all the axes were one axe,
What a _great_ axe that would be!
And if all the men were one man,
What a _great_ man he would be!
And if the _great_ man took the _great_ axe,
And cut down the _great_ tree,
And let it fall into the _great_ sea,
What a splish splash _that_ would be!
* * * * *
There was an old man,
And he had a calf,
And that's half;
He took him out of the stall,
And tied him to the wall,
And that's all.
* * * * *
The man in the wilderness asked me,
How many strawberries grew in the sea?
I answered him as I thought good,
As many as red herrings grew in the wood
* * * * *
If all the world were apple-pie,
And all the sea were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What should we have for drink?
* * * * *
I saw a ship a-sailing,
A-sailing on the sea;
And it was full of pretty things
For baby and for me.
There were sweetmeats in the cabin,
And apples in the hold;
The sails were made of silk,
And the masts were made of gold.
The four-and-twenty sailors
That stood between the decks,
Were four-and-twenty white mice.
With chains about their necks.
The captain was a duck,
With a packet on his back;
And when the ship began to move,
The captain cried, "Quack, quack!"
* * * * *
My dear, do you know,
How a long time ago,
Two poor little children,
Whose names I don't know,
Were stolen away on a fine summer's day,
And left in a wood, as I've heard people say.
And when it was night,
So sad was their plight!
The sun it went down,
And the moon gave no light!
They sobbed and they sighed, and they bitterly cried
And the poor little things, they lay down and died.
And when they were dead,
The robins so red,
Brought strawberry-leaves
And over them spread;
And all the day long,
They sung them this song:
"Poor babes in the wood! Poor babes in the wood!
Oh don't you remember the babes in the wood?"
* * * * *
The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts
All on a summer's day;
The Knave of Hearts, he stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.
The King of Hearts called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.
* * * * *
I had a little husband,
No bigger than my thumb;
I put him in a pint-pot,
And there I bade him drum.
I bought a little horse,
That galloped up and down;
I bridled him, and saddled
And sent him out of town.
I gave him little garters,
To garter up his hose,
And a little handkerchief,
To wipe his little nose.
* * * * *
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie;
When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing;
Was not that a dainty dish
To set before the King?
The King was in his counting-house,
Counting out his money;
The Queen was in the parlor,
Eating bread and honey;
The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes;
When up came a blackbird,
And nipped off her nose.
* * * * *
Little Bo-peep, she lost her sheep,
And can't tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, and they'll come home,
And bring their tails behind them.
Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep,
And dreamed she heard them bleating;
When she awoke she found it a joke,
For they still were all fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook,
Determined for to find them;
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they'd left their tails behind them!
It happened one day, as Bo-peep did stray,
Unto a meadow hard by--
There she espied their tails side by side,
All hung on a tree to dry.
She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks she raced;
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
That each tail should be properly placed.
* * * * *
What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;
And that's what little boys are made of, made of.
What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;
And that's what little girls are made of, made of.
* * * * *
A farmer went trotting
Upon his gray mare;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
With his daughter behind him,
So rosy and fair;
Lumpety, lumpety, lump!
A raven cried "Croak";
And they all tumbled down;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
The mare broke her knees,
And the farmer his crown;
Lumpety, lumpety, lump.
The mischievous raven
Flew laughing away;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
And vowed he would serve them
The same the next day;
Bumpety, bumpety, bump!
* * * * *
This is the way the ladies ride--
Saddle-a-side, saddle-a-side!
This is the way the gentlemen ride--
Sitting astride, sitting astride!
This is the way the grandmothers ride--
Bundled and tied, bundled and tied!
This is the way the babykins ride--
Snuggled inside, snuggled inside!
* * * * *
WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY?
What does little birdie say,
In her nest at peep of day?
"Let me fly," says little birdie,
"Mother, let me fly away."
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till the little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
"Let me rise and fly away."
Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till the little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby, too, shall fly away.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
* * * * *
GOOD NIGHT
Little baby, lay your head
On your pretty cradle-bed;
Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tucked in tight;
Little baby dear, good night.
Yes, my darling, well I know
How the bitter wind doth blow;
And the winter's snow and rain
Patter on the window-pane:
But they cannot come in here,
To my little baby dear;
For the window shutteth fast,
Till the stormy night is past;
And the curtains warm are spread
Round about her cradle-bed:
So till morning shineth bright,
Little baby dear, good night.
JANE TAYLOR
* * * * *
SWEET AND LOW
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me:
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
* * * * *
BABY-LAND
Which is the way to Baby-Land?
Any one can tell;
Up one flight,
To your right;
Please to ring the bell.
What can you see in Baby-Land?
Little folks in white,
Downy heads,
Cradle-beds,
Faces pure and bright.
What do they do in Baby-Land?
Dream and wake and play,
Laugh and crow,
Shout and grow,
Jolly times have they.
What do they say in Baby-Land?
Why, the oddest things;
Might as well
Try to tell
What a birdie sings.
Who is the Queen of Baby-Land?
Mother kind and sweet;
And her love,
Born above,
Guides the little feet.
GEORGE COOPER
* * * * *
Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard,
To get her poor dog a bone.
When she got there, the cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.
She went to the baker's to buy him some bread,
But when she came back the poor dog was dead.
She went to the undertaker's to buy him a coffin,
And when she came back the dog was laughing.
She went to the draper's to buy him some linen,
And when she came back the good dog was spinning.
She went to the hosier's to buy him some hose,
And when she came back he was dressed in his clothes.
The dame made a curtsy, the dog made a bow,
The dame said "your servant," the dog said "Bow-wow."
She went to the hatter's to buy him a hat,
And when she came back he was feeding the cat.
She went to the tailor's to buy him a coat,
And when she came back he was riding the goat.
She went to the barber's to buy him a wig,
And when she came back he was dancing a jig.
She went to the butcher's to get him some tripe,
And when she came back he was smoking a pipe.
She went to the fish-shop to buy him some fish,
And when she came back he was washing the dish.
She went to the tavern for white wine and red,
And when she came back the dog stood on his head.
* * * * *
As I was going to St. Ives
I met a man with seven wives;
Every wife had seven sacks,
Every sack had seven cats,
Every cat had seven kits.
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?
* * * * *
POLLY
Brown eyes, straight nose;
Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.
Torn books, spoilt toys:
Arch looks, unlike a boy's;
Little rages, obvious arts;
(Three her age is), cakes, tarts;
Falling down off chairs;
Breaking crown down stairs;
Catching flies on the pane;
Deep sighs--cause not plain;
Bribing you with kisses
For a few farthing blisses.
Wide-a-wake; as you hear,
"Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!"
New shoes, new frock;
Vague views of what's o'clock
When it's time to go to bed,
And scorn sublime for what is said
Folded hands, saying prayers,
Understands not nor cares--
Thinks it odd, smiles away;
Yet may God hear her pray!
Bed gown white, kiss Dolly;
Good night!--that's Polly,
Fast asleep, as you see,
Heaven keep my girl for me!
WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS
* * * * *
CRADLE HYMN
Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number
Gently falling on thy head.
Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care, or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.
How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven He descended,
And became a child like thee!
Soft and easy is thy cradle;
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When His birthplace was a stable,
And His softest bed was hay.
See the kindly shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
When they sought Him, there they found Him,
With his Virgin-Mother by.
See the lovely babe a-dressing;
Lovely infant, how He smiled!
When He wept, the mother's blessing
Soothed and hushed the holy child.
Lo, He slumbers in His manger,
Where the honest oxen fed;
--Peace, my darling! here's no danger!
Here's no ox a-near thy bed!
Mayst thou live to know and fear Him,
Trust and love Him all thy days;
Then go dwell forever near Him,
See His face, and sing His praise!
I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire.
ISAAC WATTS
* * * * *
I LIKE LITTLE PUSSY
I like little Pussy,
Her coat is so warm;
And if I don't hurt her
She'll do me no harm.
So I'll not pull her tail,
Nor drive her away,
But Pussy and I
Very gently will play;
She shall sit by my side,
And I'll give her some food;
And she'll love me because
I am gentle and good.
I'll pat little Pussy,
And then she will purr,
And thus show her thanks
For my kindness to her;
I'll not pinch her ears,
Nor tread on her paw,
Lest I should provoke her
To use her sharp claw;
I never will vex her,
Nor make her displeased,
For Pussy can't bear
To be worried or teased.
JANE TAYLOR
* * * * *
THE GRAVEL PATH
Baby mustn't frown,
When she tumbles down;
If the wind should change--Ah me,
What a face her face would be!
Rub away the dirt,
Say she wasn't hurt;
What a world 'twould be--O my,
If all who fell began to cry!
LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA
* * * * *
Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;
Down came pussy-cat, and away Robin ran;
Said little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can."
Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall,
Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall;
Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?
Pussy-cat said naught but "Mew," and Robin flew away.
* * * * *
SLEEP, MY TREASURE
Sleep, sleep, my treasure,
The long day's pleasure
Has tired the birds, to their nests they creep;
The garden still is
Alight with lilies,
But all the daisies are fast asleep.
Sleep, sleep, my darling,
Dawn wakes the starling,
The sparrow stirs when he sees day break;
But all the meadow
Is wrapped in shadow,
And you must sleep till the daisies wake!
E. NESBIT
* * * * *
LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF
Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;
The woods and the glens from the tower which we see,
They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.
Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
SIR WALTER SCOTT
* * * * *
THE ORPHAN'S SONG
I had a little bird,
I took it from the nest;
I prest it and blest it,
And nurst it in my breast.
I set it on the ground,
Danced round and round,
And sang about it so cheerly,
With "Hey, my little bird,
And ho! my little bird,
And oh! but I love thee dearly!"
I make a little feast
Of food soft and sweet,
I hold it in my breast,
And coax it to eat;
I pit, and I pat,
I call this and that,
And I sing about so cheerly,
With "Hey, my little bird,
And ho! my little bird,
And oh! but I love thee dearly!"
SYDNEY DOBELL
* * * * *
THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF COCK ROBIN
Who killed Cock Robin?
"I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin."
Who saw him die?
"I," said the Fly,
"With my little eye,
I saw him die."
Who caught his blood?
"I," said the Fish,
"With my little dish,
I caught his blood."
Who'll make his shroud?
"I," said the Beetle,
"With my thread and needle,
I'll make his shroud."
Who'll bear the torch?
"I," said the Linnet,
"I'll come in a minute,
I'll bear the torch."
Who'll be the clerk?
"I," said the Lark,
"I'll say Amen in the dark;
I'll be the clerk."
Who'll dig his grave?
"I," said the Owl,
"With my spade and trowel,
I'll dig his grave."
Who'll be the parson?
"I," said the Rook,
"With my little book,
I'll be the parson."
Who'll be chief mourner?
"I," said the Dove,
"I mourn for my love;
I'll be chief mourner."
Who'll sing his dirge?
"I," said the Thrush,
"As I sing in a bush,
I'll sing his dirge."
* * * * *
DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARS?
Do you know how many stars
There are shining in the skies?
Do you know how many clouds
Ev'ry day go floating by?
God in heaven has counted all,
He would miss one should it fall.
Do you know how many children
Go to little beds at night,
And without a care or sorrow,
Wake up in the morning light?
God in heaven each name can tell,
Loves you, too, and loves you well.
* * * * *
WHERE DO ALL THE DAISIES GO?
Where do all the daisies go?
I know, I know!
Underneath the snow they creep,
Nod their little heads and sleep,
In the springtime out they peep;
That is where they go!
Where do all the birdies go?
I know, I know!
Far away from winter snow
To the fair, warm South they go;
There they stay till daisies blow,
That is where they go!
Where do all the babies go?
I know, I know!
In the glancing firelight warm,
Safely sheltered from all harm,
Soft they lie on mother's arm,
That is where they go!
UNKNOWN
* * * * *
Cock crows in the morn,
To tell us to rise,
And he who lies late
Will never be wise.
For early to bed,
And early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy
And wealthy and wise.
* * * * *
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT
This is the house that Jack built.
This is the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the rat
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cow with the crumpled horn
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.
* * * * *
TREE ON THE HILL
On yonder hill there stands a tree;
Tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.
And on the tree there was a branch;
Branch on the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill
stood still.
And on the branch there was a nest;
Nest on the branch, branch on the tree, tree on
the hill, and the hill stood still.
And in the nest there was an egg;
Egg in the nest, nest on the branch, branch on
the tree, tree on the hill, and the hill stood
still.
And in the egg there was a bird;
Bird in the egg, egg in the nest, nest on the
branch, branch on the tree, tree on the hill,
and the hill stood still.
And on the bird there was a feather;
Feather on the bird, bird in the egg, egg in the
nest, nest on the branch, branch on the tree,
tree on the hill, and the hill stood still.
* * * * *
A LITTLE BOY'S POCKET
Do you know what's in my pottet?
Such a lot of treasures in it!
Listen now while I bedin it:
Such a lot of sings it holds,
And everysin dats in my pottet,
And when, and where, and how I dot it.
First of all, here's in my pottet
A beauty shell, I pit'd it up:
And here's the handle of a tup
That somebody has broked at tea;
The shell's a hole in it, you see:
Nobody knows dat I dot it,
I teep it safe here in my pottet.
And here's my ball too in my pottet,
And here's my pennies, one, two, free,
That Aunty Mary dave to me,
To-morrow day I'll buy a spade,
When I'm out walking with the maid;
I tant put that in here my pottet!
But I can use it when I've dot it.
Here's some more sings in my pottet,
Here's my lead, and here's my string;
And once I had an iron ring,
But through a hole it lost one day,
And this is what I always say--
A hole's the worst sing in a pottet,
Be sure and mend it when you've dot it.
UNKNOWN
* * * * *
NURSERY TALES
* * * * *
THE THREE BEARS
Little Goldilocks was a pretty girl who lived once upon a time in a
far-off country.
One day she was sitting on the hearthrug playing with her two kittens,
and you would have thought she was as happy as a queen, and quite
contented to stay where she was instead of wanting to run about the
world meddling with other people's property. But it happened that she
was rather a mischievous little maid, and could not resist teasing her
pets, so one of them scratched her, and then she would play with them
no longer.
She got up and trotted away into the wood behind her mother's house,
and it was such a warm, pleasant day that she wandered on and on until
she came into a part of the wood where she had never been before.
Now, in this wood there lived a family of three Bears. The first was
a GREAT BIG BEAR, the second was a MIDDLING-SIZED BEAR, and the third
was a LITTLE TEENY TINY BEAR, and they all lived together in a funny
little house, and very happy they were.
Goldilocks stopped when she came to the Bears' house, and began to
wonder who lived there.
"I'll just look in and see," she said, and so she did; but there
was no one there, for the Bears had all gone out for a morning walk,
whilst the soup they were going to have for dinner cooled upon the
table.
Goldilocks was rather hungry after her walk, and the soup smelt so
good that she began to wish the people of the house would come home
and invite her to have some. But although she looked everywhere, under
the table and into the cupboards, she could find no one, and at last
she could resist no longer, but made up her mind to take just a little
sip to see how the soup tasted. The soup had been put into three
bowls--a Great Big Bowl for the Great Big Bear, a Middling-sized Bowl
for the Middling-sized Bear, and a Teeny Tiny Bowl for the Teeny Tiny
Bear; beside each bowl lay a spoon, and Goldilocks took one and helped
herself to a spoonful of soup from the Great Big Bowl.
Ugh! how it burnt her mouth; it was so hot with pepper that she did
not like it at all; still, she was very hungry, so she thought she
would try again.
This time she took a sip of the Middling-sized Bear's soup, but she
liked that no better, for it was too salt. But when she tasted the
Teeny Tiny Bear's soup it was just as she liked it; so she ate it up
every drop, without thinking twice about it.
When she had finished her dinner she noticed three chairs standing by
the wall. One was a Great Big Chair, and she climbed upon that and sat
down. Oh, dear! how hard it was! She was sure she could not sit
there for long, so she climbed up on the next, which was only a
Middling-sized Chair, but that was too soft for her taste; so she went
on to the last, which was a Teeny Tiny Chair and suited her exactly.
It was so comfortable that she sat on and on until, if you'll
believe it, she actually sat the bottom out. Then, of course, she
was comfortable no longer, so she got up and began to wonder what she
should do next.
There was a staircase in the Bears' house, and Goldilocks thought she
would go up it and see where it led to. So up she went, and when she
reached the top she laughed outright, for the Bears' bedroom was the
funniest she had ever seen. In the middle of the room stood a Great
Big Bed, on one side of it there was a Middling-sized Bed, and on the
other side there was a Teeny Tiny Bed.
Goldilocks was sleepy, so she thought she would lie down and have a
little nap. First she got upon the Great Big Bed, but it was just as
hard as the Great Big Chair had been; so she jumped off and tried the
Middling-sized Bed, but it was so soft that she sank right down into
the feather cushions and was nearly smothered.
"I will try the Teeny Tiny Bed," she said, and so she did, and it was
so comfortable that she soon fell fast asleep.
Whilst she lay there, dreaming of all sorts of pleasant things, the
three Bears came home from their walk very hungry and quite ready for
their dinners.
But, oh! dear me! how cross the Great Big Bear looked when he saw his
spoon had been used and thrown under the table.
"WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MY SOUP?" he cried, in a Great Big Voice.
"AND WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE?" cried the Middling-sized Bear, in a
Middling-sized Voice.
"BUT WHO HAS BEEN TASTING MINE AND TASTED IT ALL UP?" cried the poor
little Teeny Tiny Bear in a Teeny Tiny Voice, with the tears running
down his Teeny Tiny Face.
When the Great Big Bear went to sit down in his Great Big Chair, he
cried out in his Great Big Voice:
"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?"
And the Middling-sized Bear cried, in a Middling-sized Voice:
"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR?"
But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out in a Teeny Tiny Voice of anger:
"WHO HAS BEEN SITTING ON MY CHAIR, AND SAT THE BOTTOM OUT?"
By this time the Bears were sure that someone had been in their house
quite lately; so they looked about to see if someone were not there
still.
There was certainly no one downstairs, so they went up the staircase
to their bedroom.
As soon as the Great Big Bear looked at his bed, he cried out, in his
Great Big Voice:
"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?"
And the Middling-sized Bear, seeing that the coverlet was all rumpled,
cried out, in a Middling-sized Voice:
"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED?"
But the Teeny Tiny Bear cried out, in a Teeny Tiny Voice of
astonishment:
"WHO HAS BEEN LYING ON MY BED AND LIES THERE STILL?"
Now, when the Great Big Bear began to speak, Goldilocks dreamt that
there was a bee buzzing in the room, and when the Middling-sized Bear
began to speak, she dreamt that it was flying out of the window; but
when the Teeny Tiny Bear began to speak, she dreamt that the bee
had come back and stung her on the ear, and up she jumped. Oh! how
frightened she was when she saw the three Bears standing beside her.
She hopped out of bed and in a second was out through the open window.
Never stopping to wonder if the fall had hurt her, she got up and ran
and ran and ran until she could go no farther, always thinking that
the Bears were close behind her. And when at length she fell down in a
heap on the ground, because she was too tired to run any more, it was
her own mother who picked her up, because in her fright she had run
straight home without knowing it.
* * * * *
CINDERELLA
Once upon a time there lived a noble gentleman who had one dear little
daughter. Poor child! her own kind mother was dead, and her father,
who loved her very dearly, was afraid that his little girl was
sometimes lonely. So he married a grand lady who had two daughters
of her own, and who, he thought, would be kind and good to his little
one. But no sooner did the stepmother enter her new home than she
began to show her true character. Her stepdaughter was so much
prettier and sweeter than her own children, that she was jealous of
her, and gave her all the hard work of the house to do, whilst the two
proud sisters spent their time at pleasant parties and entertainments.
The only pleasure the poor child had was to spend her evenings sitting
in the chimney-corner, resting her weary limbs, and for this reason
her sisters mockingly nicknamed her "Cinderella." The sisters' fine
clothes made Cinderella feel very shabby; but, in her little torn
frock and ragged shoes, she was a thousand times more lovely than
they.
Now, it chanced that the King's son gave a grand ball, to which he
invited all the lords and ladies in the country, and, amongst the
rest, Cinderella's two sisters were asked. How pleased and excited
they were when the invitation arrived! For days they could talk of
nothing but the clothes they should wear and the grand folk they hoped
to meet.
When at last the great day arrived, Cinderella was kept running about
from early till late, decking the sisters, and dressing their hair.
"Don't you wish you were going to the ball?" said one of them.
"Indeed I do," sighed the poor little maid. The sisters burst out
laughing. "A pretty spectacle _you_ would be," they said rudely. "Go
back to your cinders--they are fit company for rags." Then, stepping
carefully into their carriage so that they might not crush their fine
clothes, they drove away to the ball.
Cinderella went back to her chimney-corner, and tried not to feel
envious, but the tears _would_ gather in the pretty eyes, and trickle
down the sorrowful little face.
"What are you crying for, child?" cried a silvery voice.
Cinderella started, and raised her eyes. Who could it be? Then in a
moment she knew--it was her fairy Godmother!
"I do so want----" began Cinderella; then her sobs stopped her.
"To go to the ball," finished the Godmother. Cinderella nodded. "Well,
leave off crying--be a good girl, and you shall go. Run quickly into
the garden, and bring the largest pumpkin you can find."
Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to go to the
ball, but her only thought was to obey her Godmother. In a few moments
she was back again, with a splendid pumpkin. Her Godmother scooped out
the inside--one touch of the wand, and the pumpkin was a golden coach,
lined with white satin.
"Now, godchild, quick--the mouse-trap from the pantry!"
"Here it is, Godmother," said Cinderella breathlessly.
One by one six fat sleek mice passed through the trap door. As each
appeared, a touch of the wand transformed it into a cream-colored
horse, fit for a queen.
"Now, Cinderella, can you find a coachman?"
"There is a large gray rat in the rat-trap--would he do, Godmother?"
"Run and fetch him, child, and then I can judge," So Cinderella ran to
fetch the rat, and her Godmother said he was just made for a coachman;
and I think you would have agreed with her had you seen him a moment
later, with his powdered wig and silk stockings.
Six lizards from behind the pumpkin-frame became six footmen in
splendid liveries--you would have thought they had been footmen all
their lives. Cinderella was so excited that she could scarcely speak.
"Oh! Godmother," she cried, "it is all so lovely!" Then suddenly she
thought of her shabby frock. "There is my white muslin," she said
wistfully, "if--do you think----"
But before Cinderella could realize what was happening, her
Godmother's wand tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and in place of
the shabby frock, there was a gleam of satin, silver, and pearls.
Ah! who can describe a robe made by the fairies? It was white as snow,
and as dazzling; round the hem hung a fringe of diamonds, sparkling
like dew-drops in the sunshine. The lace about the throat and arms
could only have been spun by fairy spiders. Surely it was a dream!
Cinderella put her daintily-gloved hand to her throat, and softly
touched the pearls that encircled her neck.
"Come, child," said the Godmother, "or you will be late."
As Cinderella moved, the firelight shone upon her dainty shoes.
"They are of diamonds," she said.
"No," answered her Godmother, smiling; "they are better than
that--they are of glass, made by the fairies. And now, child, go, and
enjoy yourself to your heart's content. Only remember, if you stay at
the palace one instant after midnight, your coach and servants will
vanish, and you will be the little gray Cinderella once more!"
A few moments later, the coach dashed into the royal courtyard, the
door was flung open, and Cinderella alighted. As she walked slowly up
the richly-carpeted staircase, there was a murmur of admiration, and
the King's son hastened to meet her. "Never," said he to himself,
"have I seen anyone so lovely!" He led her into the ball-room, where
the King, who was much taken with her sweet face and pretty, modest
manners, whispered to the Queen that she must surely be a foreign
Princess.
The evening passed away in a dream of delight, Cinderella dancing with
no one but the handsome young Prince, and being waited on by his own
hands at supper-time. The two sisters could not recognize their ragged
little sister in the beautiful and graceful lady to whom the Prince
paid so much attention, and felt quite pleased and flattered when she
addressed a few words to them.
Presently a clock chimed the three quarters past eleven, and,
remembering her Godmother's warning, Cinderella at once took leave of
the Prince, and, jumping into her coach, was driven rapidly home. Here
she found her Godmother waiting to hear all about the ball. "It was
_lovely_," said Cinderella; "and oh! Godmother, there is to be another
to-morrow night, and I _should_ so much like to go to it!"
"Then you shall," replied the kind fairy, and, kissing her godchild
tenderly, she vanished. When the sisters returned from the ball, they
found a sleepy little maiden sitting in the chimney-corner, waiting
for them.
"How late you are!" cried Cinderella, yawning. "Are you not very
tired?"
"Not in the least," they answered, and then they told her what a
delightful ball it had been, and how the loveliest Princess in the
world had been there, and had spoken to them, and admired their pretty
dresses.
"Who was she?" asked Cinderella slyly.
"That we cannot say," answered the sisters. "She would not tell her
name, though the Prince begged her to do so on bended knee."
"Dear sister," said Cinderella, "I, too, should like to see the
beautiful Princess. Will you not lend me your old yellow gown, that I
may go to the ball to-morrow with you?"
"What!" cried her sister angrily; "lend one of my dresses to a little
cinder-maid? Don't talk nonsense, child!"
The next night, the sisters were more particular than ever about their
attire, but at last they were dressed, and as soon as their carriage
had driven away, the Godmother appeared. Once more she touched her
godchild with her wand, and in a moment she was arrayed in a beautiful
dress that seemed as though it had been woven of moon-beams and
sunshine, so radiantly did it gleam and shimmer. She put her arms
round her Godmother's neck and kissed and thanked her. "Goodbye,
childie; enjoy yourself, but whatever you do, remember to leave
the ball before the clock strikes twelve," the Godmother said, and
Cinderella promised.
But the hours flew by so happily and so swiftly that Cinderella forgot
her promise, until she happened to look at a clock and saw that it was
on the stroke of twelve. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room,
dropping, in her haste, one of the little glass slippers; but, with
the sound of the clock strokes in her ears, she dared not wait to pick
it up. The Prince hurried after her in alarm, but when he reached the
entrance hall, the beautiful Princess had vanished, and there was no
one to be seen but a forlorn little beggar-maid creeping away into the
darkness.
Poor little Cinderella!--she hurried home through the dark streets,
weary, and overwhelmed with shame.
The fire was out when she reached her home, and there was no Godmother
waiting to receive her; but she sat down in the chimney-corner to wait
her sisters' return. When they came in they could speak of nothing but
the wonderful things that had happened at the ball.
The beautiful Princess had been there again, they said, but had
disappeared just as the clock struck twelve, and though the Prince had
searched everywhere for her, he had been unable to find her. "He was
quite beside himself with grief," said the elder sister, "for there is
no doubt he hoped to make her his bride."
Cinderella listened in silence to all they had to say, and, slipping
her hand into her pocket, felt that the one remaining glass slipper
was safe, for it was the only thing of all her grand apparel that
remained to her.
On the following morning there was a great noise of trumpets and
drums, and a procession passed through the town, at the head of
which rode the King's son. Behind him came a herald, bearing a velvet
cushion, upon which rested a little glass slipper. The herald blew a
blast upon the trumpet, and then read a proclamation saying that the
King's son would wed any lady in the land who could fit the slipper
upon her foot, if she could produce another to match it.
Of course, the sisters tried to squeeze their feet into the slipper,
but it was of no use--they were much too large. Then Cinderella shyly
begged that she might try. How the sisters laughed with scorn when the
Prince knelt to fit the slipper on the cinder-maid's foot; but what
was their surprise when it slipped on with the greatest ease, and the
next moment Cinderella produced the other from her pocket. Once more
she stood in the slippers, and once more the sisters saw before them
the lovely Princess who was to be the Prince's bride. For at the touch
of the magic shoes, the little gray frock disappeared for ever, and in
place of it she wore the beautiful robe the fairy Godmother had given
to her.
The sisters hung their heads with sorrow and vexation; but kind little
Cinderella put her arms round their necks, kissed them, and forgave
them for all their unkindness, so that they could not help but love
her.
The Prince could not bear to part from his little love again, so
he carried her back to the palace in his grand coach, and they were
married that very day. Cinderella's stepsisters were present at the
feast, but in the place of honor sat the fairy Godmother.
So the poor little cinder-maid married the Prince, and in time they
came to be King and Queen, and lived happily ever after.
* * * * *
THE THREE BROTHERS
There was once a man who had three sons, but no fortune except the
house he lived in. Now, each of them wanted to have the house after
his death; but their father was just as fond of one as of the other,
and did not know how to treat them all fairly. He did not want to sell
the house, because it had belonged to his forefathers, or he might
have divided the money between them.
At last an idea came into his head, and he said to his sons: "Go out
into the world, and each learn a trade, and when you come home, the
one who makes best use of his handicraft shall have the house."
The sons were quite content with this plan, and the eldest decided
to be a farrier, the second a barber, and the third a fencing master.
They fixed a time when they would all meet at home again, and then
they set off.
It so happened that they each found a clever master with whom they
learned their business thoroughly. The farrier shod the King's horses,
and he thought, "I shall certainly be the one to have the house."
The barber shaved nobody but grand gentlemen, so he thought it would
fall to him.
The fencing master got many blows, but he set his teeth, and would not
let himself be put out, because he thought, "If I am afraid of a blow,
I shall never get the house."
Now, when the given time had passed, they all went home together to
their father; but they did not know how to get a good opportunity of
showing off their powers, and sat down to discuss the matter.
Suddenly a hare came running over the field.
"Ah!" cried the barber, "she comes just in the nick of time."
He took up his bowl and his soap, and got his lather by the time the
hare came quite close, then he soaped her and shaved her as she raced
along, without giving her a cut or missing a single hair. His father,
astonished, said: "If the others don't look out, the house will be
yours."
Before long a gentleman came along in his carriage at full gallop.
"Now, father, you shall see what I can do," said the farrier and he
ran after the carriage and tore the four shoes off the horse as he
galloped along, then, without stopping a second, shod him with new
ones.
"You are a fine fellow, indeed," said his father. "You know your
business as well as your brother. I don't know which I shall give the
house to at this rate."
Then the third one said: "Let me have a chance, too, father."
As it was beginning to rain, he drew his sword and swirled it round
and round his head, so that not a drop fell on him. Even when the rain
grew heavier, so heavy that it seemed as if it were being poured from
the sky out of buckets, he swung the sword faster and faster, and
remained as dry as if he had been under a roof.
His father was amazed, and said: "You have done the best; the house is
yours."
Both the other brothers were quite satisfied with this decision, and
as they were all so devoted to one another, they lived together in
the house, and carried on their trades, by which they made plenty of
money, since they were so perfect in them.
They lived happily together to a good old age, and when one fell ill
and died, the others grieved so much over him that they pined away and
soon after departed this life.
Then, as they had been so fond of one another, they were all buried in
one grave.
* * * * *
THE WREN AND THE BEAR
One summer's day the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest, and
the bear heard a bird singing very sweetly, and said: "Brother Wolf,
what kind of bird is that which is singing so delightfully?"
"That is the King of the birds, before whom we must do reverence,"
replied the wolf; but it was only the wren.
"If that be so," said the bear, "I should like to see his royal
palace; come, lead me to it." "That cannot be as you like," replied
the wolf. "You must wait till the Queen returns." Soon afterward the
Queen arrived with some food in her bill, and the King, too, to feed
their young ones, and the bear would have gone off to see them, but
the wolf, pulling his ear, said: "No, you must wait till the Queen and
the King are both off again."
So, after observing well the situation of the nest, the two tramped
off, but the bear had no rest, for he wished still to see the royal
palace, and after a short delay he set off to it again. He found the
King and Queen absent, and, peeping into the nest, he saw five or six
young birds lying in it. "Is this the royal palace?" exclaimed the
bear; "this miserable place! You are no King's children, but wretched
young vagabonds." "No, no, that we are not!" burst out the little
wrens together in a great passion, for to them this speech was
addressed. "No, no, we are born of honorable parents, and you, Mr.
Bear, shall make your words good!" At this speech the bear and the
wolf were much frightened, and ran back to their holes; but the little
wrens kept up an unceasing, clamor till their parents' return. As soon
as they came back with food in their mouths the little birds began,
"We will none of us touch a fly's leg, but will starve rather, until
you decide whether we are fine and handsome children or not, for the
bear has been here and insulted us!"
"Be quiet," replied the King, "and that shall soon be settled." And
thereupon he flew with his Queen to the residence of the bear, and
called to him from the entrance, "Old grumbler, why have you insulted
my children? That shall cost you dear, for we will decide the matter
by a pitched battle."
War having thus been declared against the bear, all the four-footed
beasts were summoned: the ox, the ass, the cow, the goat, the stag,
and every animal on the face of the earth. The wren, on the other
hand, summoned every flying thing; not only the birds, great and
small, but also the gnat, the hornet, the bee, and the flies.
When the time arrived for the commencement of the war, the wren King
sent out spies to see who was appointed commander-in-chief of
the enemy. The gnat was the most cunning of all the army, and he,
therefore, buzzed away into the forest where the enemy was encamped,
and alighted on a leaf of the tree beneath which the watchword was
given out. There stood the bear and called the fox to him, and said:
"You are the most crafty of animals, so you must be general, and lead
us on." "Well," said the fox, "but what sign shall we appoint?" Nobody
answered. Then the fox said: "I have a fine long bushy tail, which
looks like a red feather at a distance; if I hold this tail straight
up, all is going well and you must march after me; but if I suffer it
to hang down, run away as fast as you can." As soon as the gnat heard
all this she flew home and told the wren King everything to a hair.
When the day arrived for the battle to begin, the four-footed beasts
all came running along to the field, shaking the earth with their
roaring and bellowing. The wren King also came with his army, whirring
and buzzing and humming enough to terrify any one out of his senses.
Then the wren King sent the hornet forward to settle upon the fox's
tail and sting it with all his power. As soon as the fox felt the
first sting he drew up his hind leg with the pain, still carrying,
however, his tail as high in the air as before; at the second sting
he was obliged to drop it a little bit; but at the third he could
no longer bear the pain, but was forced to drop his tail between his
legs. As soon as the other beasts saw this, they thought all was lost,
and began to run each one to his own hole; so the birds won the battle
without difficulty.
When all was over the wren King and his Queen flew home to their
children, and cried out: "Rejoice! rejoice! we have won the battle;
now eat and drink as much as you please."
The young wrens, however, said: "Still we will not eat till the bear
has come to our nest and begged pardon, and admitted that we are fine
and handsome children."
So the wren King flew back to the cave of the bear, and called out,
"Old grumbler, you must come to the nest and beg pardon of my children
for calling them wretched young brats, else your ribs shall be crushed
in your body!"
In great terror the bear crept out and begged pardon; and afterward
the young wrens, being now made happy in their minds, settled down to
eating and drinking, and I am afraid they were over-excited and kept
up their merriment far too late.
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