<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<div class="front">
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first"></p>
<div class="figure xd20e99width"><ANTIMG src="images/titlepage.gif" alt="Original Title Page." width-obs="433" height-obs="720"></div>
</div></div>
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first xd20e105">The Giant Crab <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"xd20e107" href="#xd20e107" name="xd20e107">iv</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first"></p>
<div class="figure xd20e110width"><ANTIMG src="images/p000.jpg" alt="The Pious Wolf" width-obs="473" height-obs="665">
<p class="figureHead">The Pious Wolf</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="xd20e114" href="#xd20e114" name=
"xd20e114">v</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="titlePage">
<div class="docTitle">
<div class="mainTitle">The Giant Crab</div>
<div class="subTitle">And Other Tales from Old India</div>
</div>
<div class="byline">Retold by<br/>
<span class="docAuthor">W. H. D. Rouse</span><br/>
Illustrated by W. Robinson</div>
<div class="docImprint"><br/>
London<br/>
David Nutt, 270–271, Strand<br/>
<span class="docDate">1897</span></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="xd20e140" href="#xd20e140" name=
"xd20e140">vi</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first xd20e105">Printed by <span class="sc">Ballantyne,
Hanson & Co.</span><br/>
At the Ballantyne Press <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="xd20e148" href="#xd20e148" name="xd20e148">vii</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">Warning</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first"><i>To the Studious or Scientific Reader</i></p>
<p>I hope no one will imagine this to be a scientific book. It is meant
to amuse children; and if it succeeds in this, its aim will be hit.
Thus the stories here given, although grounded upon the great Buddhist
collection named below, have been ruthlessly altered wherever this
would better suit them for the purpose in view; and probably some of
them Buddha himself would fail to recognise.</p>
<p>My thanks are due to the Syndics of the Cambridge University Press
for permitting the use of their translation of the <i>Jātaka
Book</i>;<SPAN class="noteref" id="xd20e163src" href="#xd20e163" name=
"xd20e163src">1</SPAN> from which comes the groundwork of the stories, and
occasionally a phrase or a versicle is borrowed. To this work I refer
all scholars, folk-lorists and scientific persons generally: warning
them that if they plunge deeper into these pages, they will be horribly
shocked. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="xd20e169" href="#xd20e169" name=
"xd20e169">ix</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
<div class="footnotes">
<hr class="fnsep">
<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><SPAN class="noteref" id="xd20e163" href="#xd20e163src" name="xd20e163">1</SPAN></span> The
<i>Jātaka</i>; or Stories of the Buddha’s former Births.
Translated from the Pāli by various hands, under the editorship of
Professor E. B. Cowell. Vol. I., translated by R. Chalmers, B.A.
(1895). Vol. II., translated by W. H. D. Rouse, M.A. (1895). Vol. III.,
translated by H. T. Francis, M.A., and R. A. Neil, M.A. (1897). Vol.
IV., in preparation. All the stories but two come from the second
volume of this work.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="toc" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">Contents</h2>
<ul>
<li> <span class="tocPagenum">Page</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch1">The Giant Crab</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">1</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch2">The Hypocritical Cat</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">6</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch3">The Crocodile and the Monkey</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">9</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch4">The Axe, the Drum, the Bowl, and the Diamond</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">14</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch5">The Wise Parrot and the Foolish Parrot</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">26</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch6">The Dishonest Friend</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">30</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch7">The Mouse and the Farmer</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">34</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch8">The Talkative Tortoise</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">38</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch9">The Monkeys and the Gardener</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">41</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch10">The Goblin and the Sneeze</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">45</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch11">The Grateful Beasts and the Ungrateful Prince</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">49</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch12">The Goblin in the Pool</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">56</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch13">The Foolish Farmer and the King</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">59</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch14">The Pious Wolf</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">62</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch15">Birds of a Feather</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">64</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch16">Spend a Pound to Win a Penny</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">68</span><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="xd20e276" href="#xd20e276" name=
"xd20e276">x</SPAN>]</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch17">The Cunning Crane and the Crab</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">70</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch18">Union is Strength</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">77</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch19">Silence is Golden</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">80</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch20">The Great Yellow King and his Porter</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">82</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch21">The Quail and the Falcon</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">86</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch22">Pride Must Have a Fall</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">88</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch23">The Bold Beggar</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">95</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch24">The Jackal Would A-Wooing Go</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">97</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch25">The Lion and the Boar</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">102</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch26">The Goblin City</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">106</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch27">Lacknose</SPAN> <span class="tocPagenum">111</span></li>
<li><SPAN href="#ch28">The King’s Lesson</SPAN>
<span class="tocPagenum">114</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb1" href="#pb1" name=
"pb1">1</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div></div>
<div class="body">
<div id="ch1" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p001.gif" alt="The Giant Crab"
width="357" height="377"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Giant Crab</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a lake in the mountains,
and in that lake lived a huge Crab. I daresay you have often seen crabs
boiled, and put on a dish for you to eat; and perhaps at the seaside
you have watched them sidling away at the bottom of a pool. Sometimes a
boy or girl bathing in the sea gets a nip from a crab, and then there
is squeaking and squealing. But our Crab was much larger than these; he
was the largest Crab ever heard of; he was bigger than a dining-room
table, and his claws were <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb2" href="#pb2" name="pb2">2</SPAN>]</span>as big as an armchair. Fancy what it
must be to have a nip from such claws as those!</p>
<div class="figure xd20e362width"><ANTIMG src="images/p002.gif" alt="Two sitting elephants." width-obs="422" height-obs="397"></div>
<p>Well, this huge Crab lived all alone in the lake. Now the different
animals that lived in the wild mountains used to come to that lake to
drink; deer and antelopes, foxes and wolves, lions and tigers and
elephants. And whenever they came into the water to drink, the great
Crab was on the watch; and one of them at least never went up out of
the water again. The Crab used to nip it <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb3" href="#pb3" name="pb3">3</SPAN>]</span>with one of his huge claws
and pull it under, and then the poor beast was drowned, and made a fine
dinner for the big Crab.</p>
<p>This went on for a long time, and the Crab grew bigger and bigger
every day, fattening on the animals that came there to drink. So at
last all the animals were afraid to go near that lake. This was a pity,
because there was very little water in the mountains, and the creatures
did not know what to do when they were thirsty.</p>
<p>At last a great Elephant made up his mind to put an end to the Crab
and his doings. So he and his wife agreed that they would lead a herd
of elephants there to drink, and while the other elephants were
drinking, they would look out for the Crab.</p>
<p>They did as they arranged. When the herd of elephants got to the
lake, these two went in first, and kept farthest out in the water,
watching for the Crab; and the others drank, and trumpeted, and washed
themselves close inshore.</p>
<p>Soon they had had enough, and began to go out of the water; and
then, sure enough, the Elephant felt a tremendous nip on the leg. The
Crab had crawled up under the water and got him fast. He nodded to his
wife, who bravely stayed by his side; and then she began:</p>
<p>“Dear Mr. Crab!” she said, “please let my husband
go!”</p>
<p>The Crab poked his eyes out of the water. You know a crab’s
eyes grow on a kind of little stalk; and this Crab was so big, that his
eyes looked like two thick tree-trunks, with a cannon-ball on the top
of each. Now this Crab <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb4" href="#pb4"
name="pb4">4</SPAN>]</span>was a great flirt, or rather he used to be a
great flirt, but lately he had nobody to flirt with, because he had
eaten up all the creatures that came near him. And Mrs. Elephant was a
beautiful elephant, with a shiny brown skin, and elegant flapping ears,
and a curly trunk, and two white tusks that twinkled when she smiled.
So when the big Crab saw this beautiful elephant, he thought he would
like to have a kiss; and he said in a wheedling tone:</p>
<p>“Dear little Elephant! Will you give me a kiss?”</p>
<p>Then Mrs. Elephant pretended to be very pleased, and put her head on
one side, and flapped her tail; and she looked so sweet and so
tempting, that the Crab let go the other elephant, and began to crawl
slowly towards her, waving his eyes about as he went.</p>
<p>All this while Mr. Elephant had been in great pain from the nip of
the Crab’s claw, but he had said nothing, for he was a very brave
Elephant. But he did not mean to let his wife come to any harm; not he!
It was all part of their trick. And as soon as he felt his leg free, he
trumpeted loud and long, and jumped right upon the Crab’s
back!</p>
<p>Crack, crack! went the Crab’s shell; for, big as he was, an
elephant was too heavy for him to carry. Crack, crack, crack! The
Elephant jumped up and down on his back, and in a very short time the
Crab was crushed to mincemeat.</p>
<p>What rejoicing there was among the animals when they saw the Crab
crushed to death! From far and near they came, and passed a vote of
thanks to the Elephant and his wife, and made them King and Queen of
all the animals in the mountains. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb5"
href="#pb5" name="pb5">5</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>As for the Crab, there was nothing left of him but his claws, which
were so hard that nothing could even crack them; so they were left in
the pool. And in the autumn there came a great flood, and carried the
claws down into the river; and the river carried them hundreds of miles
away, to a great city; where the King’s sons found them, and made
out of them two immense drums, which they always beat when they go to
war; and the very sound of these drums is enough to frighten the enemy
away. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb6" href="#pb6" name=
"pb6">6</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch2" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p006.gif" alt="The Hypocritical Cat" width-obs="438" height-obs="670"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Hypocritical Cat</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a troop of Rats that used
to live in holes by a river side. A certain Cat often saw them going to
and fro, and longed to have them to eat. But he was not strong enough
to attack them all together; besides, that would not have suited his
purpose, because most of them would have run away.</p>
<p>So he used to stand early in the morning, not far from their holes,
with his face towards the sun, snuffing up the air, and standing on one
leg. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb7" href="#pb7" name=
"pb7">7</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>The Rats wondered why he did that, so one day they all trooped up to
him in a body, and asked the reason.</p>
<p>“What is your name, sir?” they began.</p>
<p>“Holy is my name,” said the Cat.</p>
<p>“Why do you stand on one leg?”</p>
<p>“Because if I stood on all four, the earth could not bear my
weight.”</p>
<p>“And why do you keep your mouth open?”</p>
<p>“Because I feed on the air, and never eat anything
else.”</p>
<p>“And why do you face the sun?”</p>
<p>“Because I worship the sun.”</p>
<p>“What a pious Cat!” the Rats all thought. Ever after
that, when they started out in the morning, they did not fail first to
make their bow to the Cat one by one, and to show thus their respect
for his piety.</p>
<p>This was just what our Cat wanted. Every day, as they filed past, he
waited till the tail of the string came up; then like lightning pounced
upon the hindmost, and gobbled him up in a trice; after which he stood
on one leg as before, licking his lips greedily.</p>
<p>For a while all went well for the Cat’s plan; but at last the
Chief of the Rats noticed that the troop seemed to grow smaller. Here
and there he missed some familiar face. He could not make it out; but
at last a thought came into his mind, that perhaps the pious Cat might
know more about it than he chose to tell.</p>
<p>Next day accordingly, he posted himself at the tail of the troop,
where he could see everything that went on; and as the Rats one by one
bowed before the Cat, he watched the Cat out of the end of his eye.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb8" href="#pb8" name=
"pb8">8</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>As he came up, the Cat prepared for his pounce. But our Rat was
ready for him, and dodged out of the way.</p>
<p>“Aha!” says the Rat, “so that is your piety! Feeds
on the air, does he! and worships the sun—eh? What a
humbug!” And with one spring he was at the Cat’s throat,
and his sharp teeth fast. The other Rats heard the scuffle, and came
trooping back; and it was crunch and munch, till not a vestige remained
of the hypocritical Cat. Those who came first had cat to eat, and those
who came last went sniffing about at the mouths of their friends, and
asking what was the taste of catsmeat. And ever after the Rats lived in
peace and happiness.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e440width"><ANTIMG src="images/p008.gif" alt="Rat standing on top of skull of cat." width-obs="163" height-obs="204"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb9" href="#pb9" name=
"pb9">9</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch3" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p009.gif" alt="The Crocodile and the Monkey" width-obs="439" height-obs="275"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Crocodile and the Monkey</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a deep and wide river, and
in this river lived a crocodile. I do not know whether you have ever
seen a crocodile; but if you did see one, I am sure you would be
frightened. They are very long, twice as long as your bed; and they are
covered with hard green or yellow scales; and they have a wide flat
snout, and a huge jaw with hundreds of sharp teeth, so big that it
could hold you all at once inside it. This crocodile used to lie all
day in the mud, half under water, basking in the sun, and never moving;
but if any little animal came near, he would jump up, and open his big
jaws, and snap it up as a dog snaps up a fly. And if you had gone near
him, he would have snapped you up too, just as easily. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb10" href="#pb10" name="pb10">10</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>On the bank of this river lived a monkey. He spent the day climbing
about the trees, and eating nuts or wild fruit; but he had been there
so long, that there was hardly any fruit left upon the trees.</p>
<p>Now it so happened that the crocodile’s wife cast a longing
eye on this Monkey. She was very dainty in her eating, was Mrs.
Crocodile, and she liked the tit-bits. So one morning she began to cry.
Crocodile’s tears are very big, and as her tears dropped into the
water, splash, splash, splash, Mr. Crocodile woke up from his snooze,
and looked round to see what was the matter.</p>
<p>“Why, wife,” said he, “what are you crying
about?”</p>
<p>“I’m hungry!” whimpered Mrs. Crocodile.</p>
<p>“All right,” said he, “wait a while. I’ll
soon catch you something.”</p>
<p>“But I want that Monkey’s heart!” said Mrs.
Crocodile. Splash, splash, splash, went her tears again.</p>
<p>“Come, come, cheer up,” said Mr. Crocodile. He was very
fond of his wife, and he would have wiped away her tears, only he had
no pocket-handkerchief. “Cheer up!” said he;
“I’ll see what I can do.”</p>
<p>His wife dried her tears, and Mr. Crocodile lay down again on the
mud, thinking. He thought for a whole hour. You see, though he was very
big, he was very stupid. At last he heaved a sigh of relief, for he
thought he had hit upon a clever plan.</p>
<p>He wallowed along the bank to a place just underneath a big tree. Up
on the tree our Monkey was swinging by his tail, and chattering to
himself.</p>
<p>“Monkey!” he called out, in the softest voice he could
manage. It was not very soft, something like a policeman’s
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb11" href="#pb11" name=
"pb11">11</SPAN>]</span>rattle; but it was the best he could do, with all
those sharp teeth.</p>
<p>The Monkey stopped swinging, and looked down. The Crocodile had
never spoken to him before, and he felt rather surprised.</p>
<p>“Monkey, dear!” called the Crocodile, again.</p>
<p>“Well, what is it?” asked the Monkey.</p>
<p>“I’m sure you must be hungry,” said Mr. Crocodile.
“I see you have eaten all the fruit on these trees; but why
don’t you try the trees on the other side of the river? Just
look, apples, pears, quinces, plums, anything you could wish for! And
heaps of them!”</p>
<p>“That is all very well,” said the Monkey. “But how
can I get across a wide river like this?”</p>
<p>“Oh!” said the cunning Crocodile, “that is easily
managed. I like your looks, and I want to do you a good turn. Jump on
my back, and I’ll swim across; then you can enjoy
yourself!”</p>
<p>Never had the Monkey had an offer so tempting. He swung round a
branch three times in his joy; his eyes glistened, and without thinking
a moment, down he jumped on the Crocodile’s back.</p>
<p>The Crocodile began to swim slowly across. The Monkey fixed his eyes
on the opposite bank with its glorious fruit trees, and danced for joy.
Suddenly he felt the water about his feet! It rose to his legs, it rose
to his middle. The Crocodile was sinking!</p>
<p>“Mr. Crocodile! Mr. Crocodile! take care!” said he.
“You’ll drown me!”</p>
<p>“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the Crocodile, snapping his great
jaws. “So you thought I was taking you across out <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb12" href="#pb12" name="pb12">12</SPAN>]</span>of pure
good nature! You are a green monkey, to be sure. The truth is, my wife
has taken a fancy to you, and wants your heart to eat! If you had seen
her crying this morning, I am sure you would have pitied
her.”</p>
<p>“What a good thing you told me!” said the Monkey. (He
was a very clever Monkey, and had his wits about him.) “Wait a
bit, and I’ll tell you why. My heart, I think you said? Why, I
never carry my heart inside me; that would be too dangerous. If we
Monkeys went jumping about the trees with our hearts inside, we should
knock them to bits in no time.”</p>
<p>The Crocodile rose up to the surface again. He felt very glad he had
not drowned the Monkey, because, as I said, he was a stupid creature,
and did not see that the Monkey was playing him a trick.</p>
<p>“Oh,” said he, “where is your heart,
then?”</p>
<p>“Do you see that cluster of round things up in the tree there,
on the further bank? Those are our hearts, all in a bunch; and pretty
safe too, at that height, I should hope!” It was really a
fig-tree, and certainly the figs did look very much like a bunch of
hearts. “Just you take me across,” he went on, “and
I’ll climb up and drop my heart down; I can do very well without
it.”</p>
<p>“You excellent creature!” said the Crocodile, “so
I will!”</p>
<p>And he swam across the river. The Monkey leapt lightly off the
Crocodile’s back, and swung himself up the fig-tree. Then he sat
down on a branch, and began to eat the figs with great enjoyment.</p>
<p>“Your heart, please!” called out the Crocodile.
“Can’t you see I’m waiting?” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb13" href="#pb13" name="pb13">13</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“Well, wait as long as you like!” said the Monkey.
“Are you such a fool as to think that any creature keeps its
heart in a tree? Your body is big, but your wit is little. No, no; here
I am, and here I mean to stay. Many thanks for bringing me
over!”</p>
<p>The Crocodile snapped his jaws in disgust, and went back to his
wife, feeling very foolish, as he was; and the Monkey had such a feast
in the fig-tree as he never had in his life before.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e517width"><ANTIMG src="images/p013.jpg" alt="Crocodile with hat and umbrella seen from back." width-obs="124" height-obs=
"242"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb14" href="#pb14" name=
"pb14">14</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch4" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p014.gif" alt="The Axe, the Drum, the Bowl, and the Diamond" width-obs="513" height-obs=
"696"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Axe, the Drum, the Bowl, and the Diamond</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a poor young man who went
out into the world to seek his fortune. He went aboard a ship sailing
across the ocean; and after they had sailed for a year and a day,
suddenly a great storm arose. The rain descended, and the wind blew,
and it blew so hard and so wild, that the ship went miles out of her
course, and the skipper could not tell where they were. And then, in
the middle of the night, a great crash came, and the ship was dashed
upon a reef. The waves beat and battered it, and turned it topsy-turvy,
and the end of it <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb15" href="#pb15"
name="pb15">15</SPAN>]</span>was that every soul was drowned except the
poor young man.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e530width"><ANTIMG src="images/p015.gif" alt="Poor young man with turban sitting on beach." width-obs="439" height-obs=
"132"></div>
<p>The waves washed him ashore, more dead than alive, and on the shore
he lay till next morning, when the sun warmed him and woke him up from
his faint. He got up and looked about him, and wandered over the place,
which he found was an island. It did not take him long to walk round
it; and then he saw that it was a small island, and far as the eye
could reach not another speck of land was to be seen. There were plenty
of trees growing in the island, with fruit and flowers, bananas and
cocoanuts, and springs of water; but on the trees were no birds, and no
animals ran about on the ground. So he lived on the fruits and roots,
and did the best he could.</p>
<p>One day, to his great surprise, he saw a black thing in the sky;
and, still more surprising, the black thing had no wings. Yet it was
flying, and flew nearer and nearer, until he saw that it was a large
wild pig. How could a pig fly through the air? He rubbed his eyes and
looked again; yes, a pig it was beyond all doubt; and it flew closer
and closer until it came to the island. He hid behind a bush, and saw
the pig sink slowly to the ground <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb16"
href="#pb16" name="pb16">16</SPAN>]</span>and lie down under a tree. Soon
the pig was fast asleep and snoring. He went up close, and, to his
amazement, by the pig’s side, was the most magnificent diamond he
ever saw. It blazed and sparkled in the sun and looked like a ball of
fire. He stepped gingerly up to the pig, and took hold of the diamond;
the pig was very sleepy and snored away heartily. As he turned the
diamond about in his hand and saw it flash, he suddenly thought to
himself, “What if the pig should wake? He looks fierce, he has
great sharp tusks, and I have nothing to defend myself with. If I were
only up in that tree, now——” But what on earth had
happened? As the thought came into his mind, he found himself perched
in the tree-top.</p>
<p>For a little while he was quite dazed and dizzy. Then he began to
wonder if it could be the diamond which had done this miracle. So just
to try, he wished himself down again; and there he was, without knowing
how! He began to understand that this was a magic diamond, and
something which he must take great care of. Then he wished himself up
in the tree again.</p>
<p>When he was in the tree once more, he picked off a nut that was
growing on the tree, and dropped it upon the pig’s nose. The pig
woke up, raised his head, and looked round for the diamond; he was a
very intelligent pig, indeed he was really not a pig at all, but a
great magician, who used to fly about in the shape of a pig because he
was as wicked as could be, and preferred being a pig rather than a man.
There are really a great many people like that, only we see them in the
shape of men and do not know the difference.</p>
<p>Now when this pig saw that his diamond was gone, he <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb17" href="#pb17" name="pb17">17</SPAN>]</span>fell in
a fury; for all his power lay in the diamond, and without it he was
nothing more than any other pig. So he glared and snorted, and looked
all round, and down, and up—and then he saw the man who had
dropped the nut upon his snout! Then his fury knew no bounds; he foamed
at the mouth, and ran raging round and round the tree; but the man only
laughed, and dropped more nuts on him. This made him mad indeed, for
pigs cannot climb trees, and he saw that his diamond was lost, and with
it all his magical power; so in his madness he charged straight at the
tree, and ran his tusks right into the trunk. There they stuck, and tug
as he would, he could not get them out.</p>
<p>The man wished himself down from the tree, and looked about for a
large stone, with which he battered the pig’s skull till it was
dead. Then he held the diamond over the pig, so that the sun’s
rays shone down and were reflected through it; and so fine and strong
was the diamond, that in a very short time a delicious smell of roast
pork rose to his nostrils, and the whole pig was done to a turn, with
rich crisp crackling. Then he took a sharp shell which he found lying
on the beach, and carved off slices of the pork, which he ate. It was
very nice indeed, and he had the best meal he had enjoyed since the
ship had been wrecked on the reef, and he had been cast ashore on that
island.</p>
<p>By-and-by, when he had finished his dinner, it occurred to him that
as the pig had flown there through the air, so he might fly away. So
holding his diamond in his hand, he wished to fly through the air to
the nearest land. Then he felt himself rising, and he was carried
swiftly <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb18" href="#pb18" name=
"pb18">18</SPAN>]</span>through the air, and away, away over the sea; the
island grew smaller, it became a black patch, it dwindled to a speck in
the distance. The sun shone warm upon him, the waves sparkled
underneath; porpoises gambolled about, playing leap-frog in the sea;
flying-fish came out of the water in a flash of light, and dropped into
the water again; still he went on, till, as the sun was setting, he
came close to a sandy beach; and there before long he stood, wondering
what he should do next.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e555width"><ANTIMG src="images/p018.jpg" alt="Man flying through the sky with diamond." width-obs="323" height-obs=
"322"></div>
<p>He looked round, and not far off, behind a clump of bushes, rose a
thin column of smoke. He put the diamond in his pocket, and walked
towards the smoke. Soon he saw a queer little hut, and at the door,
upon the <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb19" href="#pb19" name=
"pb19">19</SPAN>]</span>ground, sat a man without any legs. Whether a
shark had bitten off his legs, or whether he never had any, I cannot
tell you, for he never told me; but there he sat, like a chessman. He
had a fur cap, and a fur coat; he did not need any trousers, for he had
no legs to put them on, as I have told you. In front of him was a fire,
and over the fire was a spit, and on the spit was a young kid
roasting.</p>
<p>“Good evening, sir,” said the young man.</p>
<p>“Good evening,” said the other.</p>
<p>“Can you give me a night’s shelter?” the young man
asked.</p>
<p>“Whatever I have, you may share,” said the old man with
no legs.</p>
<p>So they sat down, and ate a good meal; but the young man was rather
frightened to see that the other man ate skin, and bones, and
everything. And he did not like the way the old man eyed him. In fact I
must tell you, that this old man was another magician, and a friend of
the magician who looked like a pig; and when any travellers came that
way, he used to eat them. He did not eat this traveller, because the
kid was ready roasted; but he meant to do it as soon as he should be
hungry again.</p>
<p>“How did you get here?” asked the old man.</p>
<p>“I flew over the sea,” said the young man.</p>
<p>“Indeed!” said the old man. “And how did you
manage that?”</p>
<p>Then the traveller showed his diamond, and told the old man what a
wonderful stone it was, and how it gave any one power to fly through
the air.</p>
<p>“If you will give me your diamond,” said the old man,
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb20" href="#pb20" name=
"pb20">20</SPAN>]</span>“I will give you my axe. You see I have no
legs, so you may wonder how I live. This is the way I live. If I slap
this axe on the handle, and say, Wood and fire! away it flies, and cuts
wood and kindles a fire. If I slap the steel, and say, Heads! away it
flies, and chops off the head of a goat or any animal I want; and then
it brings me meat for my dinner. Now I have lived here for a thousand
years by the help of my axe, and I am rather tired of being in one
place. I should like to see the world before I die, and that is why I
want your diamond.”</p>
<p>“All right,” said the young man, “it’s a
bargain.” They exchanged the axe and the diamond; the old man
turned it over in his hand, chuckling greedily. As soon as the young
man got grip of the axe, he smacked the steel, and says he,
“Heads!” In a jiffy the axe sliced through the old
man’s neck like a turnip, and he had no more head than legs.</p>
<p>Then the traveller picked up the diamond, and put it in his pocket.
So now he had two magic things instead of one. He blessed his luck, and
fell asleep very happily inside the old magician’s hut.</p>
<p>Next morning, with the diamond in his pocket and the axe on his
shoulder, the young man set out on his travels. All day long he walked
through the forest, until at evening time he saw before him another
hut, like the first, where lived the old man with no legs. Before this
hut, too, there was a fire burning, and beside the fire sat an old man
without any arms. Whether a tiger had bitten off his arms or whether he
never had any, I cannot say, because he never told me; but there he sat
like a pair of compasses. He had the stump of a tree to sit on, and
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb21" href="#pb21" name=
"pb21">21</SPAN>]</span>before him was another stump, and on this stump
was a large bowl of milk, out of which he was drinking. When he saw our
friend, he tipped over this bowl with his chin; instantly a deep
roaring river surrounded him and his hut, and he sat in the middle,
laughing at the young man’s surprise. But he did not laugh long,
for the young man instantly wished himself over the river, and there he
was. Now it was his turn to laugh.</p>
<p>“How on earth did you do that?” asked the old man. He
was much too astonished to think of saying good-day.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s nothing,” said the young man, and
showed him his diamond.</p>
<p>The old man’s eyes glistened. He thought how nice it would be
to have that diamond.</p>
<p>“What do you say to selling me that diamond?” said
he.</p>
<p>“What will you give me for it?” asked the young man.</p>
<p>“I will give you this bowl. It is a wishing bowl. Whenever you
are hungry all you have to do is to wish for something in it, and there
it is; milk, or soup, or wine; anything that can go in a bowl. And if
you turn it over, as you saw me do just now, a rushing, roaring river
pours out, and surrounds you, or, if you like, it will flood a whole
country and drown every living thing.”</p>
<p>“Dear me!” said the young man, “that is a
wonderful bowl. Well, I agree; I’ll give you my diamond for
it.” So they exchanged the bowl and the diamond. The old man took
the diamond in his hand and watched it sparkle; but he did not watch
long, for the young man slapped his hatchet and cried,
“Heads!” In a jiffy the steel sliced <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb22" href="#pb22" name="pb22">22</SPAN>]</span>through
the old man’s neck like a cucumber, and he had no more head than
arms. Then the young man picked up his diamond and put it away in his
pocket. So now he had three wonderful things instead of two. He blessed
his good luck, wished for some delicious wine in his bowl, drank it,
and went to sleep happily, in the old man’s hut.</p>
<p>Next morning the young man was up betimes; and after taking a meal
out of his wishing-bowl, he set out once more to walk through the
forest. After he had walked for some hours, he heard, far in the
distance, a loud rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub-dub, boom, boom, boom. He
felt as if he could hardly help running away; still, with a great
effort, he began to walk towards the sound, which got louder and louder
every minute, till at last it made a tremendous din. Then, suddenly,
just as he came upon a little open glade in the forest, he heard a
rustle, bustle, jostle, and out of the trees came a great herd of
elephants, lions, tigers, wolves, and all sorts of wild animals, their
hair bristling with fright, and every one of them tearing along at full
speed. They were far too much terrified to notice him, and, scurrying
across the glade, they vanished among the trees.</p>
<p>By this time the noise had ceased, but it was not long before he
came upon another little glade, and at the end of the glade was a hut,
and in front of that hut sat a big black giant with a drum.</p>
<p>“Good day to you!” roared the giant, in a great
voice.</p>
<p>“Good day!” said the young man, rather frightened.</p>
<p>“Come and have something to eat!” roared the giant.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said the young man.</p>
<p>They sat down, and the giant offered him some food. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb23" href="#pb23" name="pb23">23</SPAN>]</span>But the
young man thought it was safer not to take any of the giant’s
food, so he pulled out his bowl, and wished for some soup, and sipped
it.</p>
<p>“What is that?” asked the giant.</p>
<p>The young man told him it was a wishing bowl, that gave any food he
wanted. The giant was very much delighted with the wishing bowl, and
thought that if he could get that bowl, he would be able to eat without
the trouble of getting things.</p>
<p>“I’ll buy that bowl!” he roared.</p>
<p>“What will you give me for it?” asked the young man.</p>
<p>“I will give you this drum,” said the giant. “If
you beat on one side, everybody that hears it will run away.”</p>
<p>“Ah, that was why the lions and tigers were running away just
now!” said the young man.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the giant. “And if you beat on the
other side, a splendid army of soldiers and horses will spring up out
of the ground and defend you.”</p>
<p>“All right, here you are,” said the young man, and gave
him the bowl.</p>
<p>The giant took the bowl in great glee, and horrid to tell, wished
out loud for a bowlful of blood! He began to drink it, but he did not
finish; for as he buried his nose in the bowl, the young man slapped
his axe, and said—“Heads!” Down came the axe with a
crash on the giant’s head, and cut it clean in two!</p>
<p>If the young man was glad when he saw the giant’s head cleft
in two, he was gladder when he went inside the giant’s hut. For
there, all round the wall, were the bodies of travellers who had passed
that way; and they were tied to <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb24"
href="#pb24" name="pb24">24</SPAN>]</span>the uprights of the wall, and
their bodies were dry as dust, and shrivelled like a medlar. For this
giant used to catch all travellers and tie them up in his house, and
then he sucked their blood till they were dry. So when our traveller
saw what a narrow escape he had had, he determined no longer to remain
in that dreadful place. Picking up the bowl and the drum, and feeling
to see that his axe and diamond were safe, he wished himself at the
gate of the nearest city.</p>
<p>Now the king of this city was a very cruel king. He used to rob and
murder even his own subjects; and as for strangers, he had short shrift
and no mercy for them. So when the king heard that there was a stranger
outside the gates, he made up his mind to have some sport; and sent out
a company of soldiers to fetch him in. The young man beat his drum, and
they all took to their heels! You may imagine how angry the king was to
hear this; he had all their heads chopped off on the spot, and sent a
regiment. The same thing happened to the regiment. But this only made
the king angrier than ever. He ordered all his army to be marshalled
before the gates, and himself riding at their head, led them forward to
capture this audacious stranger. Then the young man tipped over his
wishing bowl. Out poured a roaring torrent of water that flooded the
plain, and drowned every soldier in the army, all except the king, who
had galloped back to the city, and got up on the wall. Then the young
man slapped his axe, and cried, “Heads! I want the king’s
head!” Off flew the axe through the air like a boomerang, and
sliced off the king’s head, and brought it back to its master.
The people inside the city began to cheer with <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb25" href="#pb25" name="pb25">25</SPAN>]</span>joy,
when they saw the king with his head off. And when the axe came back,
the young man beat upon the other side of his drum; and lo and behold!
the earth began to tremble, it seemed full of holes, and from every
hole sprouted a warrior fully armed. Surrounded by his army, he marched
into the city, where he became king, and lived happily ever after. And
I hope that we may be half as happy as he was.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e656width"><ANTIMG src="images/p025.gif" alt="Man carrying axe, drum, bowl, and diamond through door opening."
width="200" height="262"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb26" href="#pb26" name=
"pb26">26</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch5" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p026.gif" alt="The Wise Parrot and the Foolish Parrot" width-obs="440" height-obs=
"509"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Wise Parrot and the Foolish Parrot</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a man who had two pet
parrots that could talk very nicely; indeed they had more sense than
most people have, and when their master was alone he used to spend the
evening chattering with them. They cracked jokes like any Christian,
and told the funniest tales.</p>
<p>But this man had a thievish maid-servant. He had to lock everything
up, and even as it was, never turned his back but she was filching and
pilfering. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb27" href="#pb27" name=
"pb27">27</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>One day the man had to go away on a journey. Before he went he took
out the two parrots, and perched one on each fist, and says he to them,
“Now, Beaky and Tweaky, I want you to watch the maid while I am
gone; and if she steals anything, you are to tell me when I come home
again.”</p>
<p>They blinked at him, their eyelids coming up over their eyes from
underneath, as you must have noticed in parrots; looking very solemn as
they did so. Then Beaky said,</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“If she do it</p>
<p class="line">She shall rue it!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">But Tweaky said nothing at all; only winked again more
solemnly than ever.</p>
<p>“Good Beaky!” said the man, “naughty
Tweaky!”</p>
<p>Then he went away.</p>
<p>As soon as he was out of sight, the maid began her games. She picked
the locks of his cupboards and ate the sugar, she ate the biscuits, she
drank the wine. Beaky hopped into the room, stood on one leg, and
shrieked,</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Naughty maid!</p>
<p class="line">Aren’t you afraid?</p>
<p class="line">Master shall know,</p>
<p class="line">And you shall go!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The maid jumped as if she had been shot, and looked
round. She thought somebody had caught her unawares; but when she saw
it was Beaky she put on a sweet smile, and held out a lump of sugar,
saying in a coaxing voice, “Pretty Poll! pretty Beaky! I
won’t do it again! Come, then, and have a nice lump of
sugar.”</p>
<p>This temptation was too strong for poor Beaky. He <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb28" href="#pb28" name="pb28">28</SPAN>]</span>wanted
very much to do his duty, but he wanted the lump of sugar more. So he
put his head on one side and, looking very wise, sidled up to the maid.
This was very wrong of Beaky, because he knew the sugar was stolen; and
in another minute he was sorry; for as soon as he came within reach and
pecked at the sugar, the maid caught him by the neck with the other
hand. Then her smile changed, and she sneered,</p>
<p>“So Beaky is going to tell, is he? Tell-tale tit! I’ll
teach Beaky to tell tales!” As she said each word, she plucked
out a feather from poor Beaky’s head. Beaky shrieked and Beaky
struggled, but all in vain; she did not let him go till he was bald as
a bullet.</p>
<p>Tweaky saw all this, but said nothing, only winked and blinked, and
looked more solemn than ever. The maid looked at him, but thought she,
“That bird is too stupid to tell, and he isn’t worth the
trouble of plucking.” So she left him alone.</p>
<p>By-and-by the master came in. The maid went up to him in a great
bustle, and said she had found Beaky stealing sugar, and she had
plucked him as a punishment.</p>
<p>When the evening came, the master sat in his room with Beaky and
Tweaky. Poor Beaky felt ashamed of himself, and had nothing to say; he
sat on his perch the picture of misery, with his tail drooping, and his
ridiculous bald head. Tweaky said nothing at all.</p>
<p>Now it happened that the master had a bald head too, and when he
took off his skull-cap, which he generally wore to keep his head warm,
Tweaky noticed it.</p>
<p>He laughed loud and shrieked out, “Oh-oh-oh! Where’s
your feathers, Tell-tale tit? Where’s your feathers, Tell-tale
tit?” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb29" href="#pb29" name=
"pb29">29</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>Tweaky was only a parrot, you see, and was not always quite correct
in his grammar, as you are.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” asked the master.</p>
<p>But for a long time Tweaky would say nothing but the same words over
and over again, “Where’s your feathers, Tell-tale
tit?” However, <span class="corr" id="xd20e721" title=
"Source: by-and-bye">by-and-by</span> they heard the maid going to bed,
tramp, tramp, tramp. Then Tweaky grew a little braver; and next time
the master asked him what he meant, he replied:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Every parrot has two eyes,</p>
<p class="line">Both the foolish and the wise;</p>
<p class="line">But the wise can shut them tight</p>
<p class="line">When ’tis best to have no sight.</p>
<p class="line">Wisdom has the best of it:</p>
<p class="line">Where’s your feathers, Tell-tale tit?”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">Then the master understood what had happened, for he
was a very clever man; and without any delay he ran upstairs two steps
at a time, and woke the maid, and made her dress herself, and turned
her out of the house then and there. I wonder why he did not do it
before, but that is no business of mine.</p>
<p>After that, poor Beaky never had the heart to talk again; but
Tweaky, whenever he saw a bald-headed man, or a woman with a high
forehead, shrieked out at the top of his voice—</p>
<p>“Ha! ha! ha! Where’s your feathers, Tell-tale
tit?”</p>
<div class="figure xd20e745width"><ANTIMG src="images/p029.gif" alt="Stealing maid attacking parrot." width-obs="437" height-obs="151"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb30" href="#pb30" name=
"pb30">30</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch6" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Dishonest Friend</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">There was once a man who went on a journey, and he
asked a friend to take charge of his plough till he should return. The
friend promised to take great care of it. But no sooner was the man
gone than he sold the plough and put the price in his own pocket. Was
not that a mean trick to serve a friend?</p>
<div class="figure xd20e756width"><ANTIMG src="images/p030.gif" alt="Old man with umbrella holding hands with boy." width-obs="191" height-obs=
"323"></div>
<p>The man came back, and asked his friend for the plough.</p>
<p>“Oh, I am so sorry,” the friend replied; “my house
is infested with rats, and one night a very big rat came and ate it
up.”</p>
<p>“Ah well,” said the man, “what can’t be
cured must be endured! It must have been a very big rat,
though.”</p>
<p>“It was,” said the other, “very big.”
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb31" href="#pb31" name=
"pb31">31</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>You must not suppose this man was quite such a fool as he seemed.
You will soon see why he did not make a fuss about his plough.</p>
<p>Next day he took his friend’s son out for a walk. When they
had gone some distance he took the boy to another friend’s house,
and told this friend to keep the boy safe, but not to let him go out of
the house till he returned.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e774width"><ANTIMG src="images/p031.gif" alt="Two old men, one carrying boy under arm." width-obs="413" height-obs=
"293"></div>
<p>Then he ran back to the boy’s father.</p>
<p>“Where is my boy?” asked the father.</p>
<p>“Your boy? Oh, I remember—a hawk swooped down and
carried him off.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you liar! oh, you murderer!” said the friend.
“Come before the judge, and then we shall see.”</p>
<p>“As you please,” said the man. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb32" href="#pb32" name="pb32">32</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>So they went to the court.</p>
<p>“What is your complaint?” asked the judge.</p>
<p>“My lord, this man took my son out for a walk with him, and
came back alone, and now he says a hawk carried him off. He must have
murdered the boy! Justice, my lord, justice!”</p>
<div class="figure xd20e797width"><ANTIMG src="images/p032.gif" alt="Hawk carrying boy." width-obs="273" height-obs="310"></div>
<p>“What is this?” asked the judge sternly. “Come, my
man, tell the truth.”</p>
<p>“It is the truth, my lord,” said the man; “he came
with me for a walk, and was carried away by a hawk.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense!” said the judge. “Who ever heard of a
hawk carrying off a boy?”</p>
<p>“And who ever heard, my lord, of a rat eating a plough?”
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb33" href="#pb33" name=
"pb33">33</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“What do you mean?” asked the judge.</p>
<p>The man told his story. Then the judge saw that the man who
complained had cheated his friend, and understood what was the reason
of this little trick. So he said to the man whose son was lost:</p>
<p>“If you find the plough that was entrusted to you, perhaps
your son may be found too.”</p>
<p>The man was much annoyed at being found out, but, willy nilly, he
had to give the plough back. Then his son was brought back safe to him
again. And he began to see that honesty is the best policy.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb34" href="#pb34" name=
"pb34">34</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch7" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p034.gif" alt="The Mouse and the Farmer" width-obs="431" height-obs="166"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Mouse and the Farmer</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a Mouse, who made his hole
in a place where there were thousands and thousands of golden
sovereigns buried in the ground. Now there was a Farmer who owned the
land where this treasure was buried; but he did not know about it, or
else of course he would have dug it up. He often noticed the little
Mouse sitting with his head peeping out of the hole, but as he was a
very kind Farmer, he never hurt the Mouse; and now and then when he was
having his own dinner, he would throw the Mouse a bit of cheese.</p>
<p>The Mouse was very grateful to the Farmer, and wondered what he
could do to show it. At last he thought of the treasure; for this Mouse
was sensible enough to know that Farmers are very pleased to get a
golden sovereign now and again. So one day, as the Farmer went by the
hole, Mousie ran out with a golden sovereign in his mouth, and dropped
it at the Farmer’s feet. You can imagine how glad the Farmer was
to see a golden <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb35" href="#pb35" name=
"pb35">35</SPAN>]</span>sovereign. Indeed, it was the first one he had
seen since the Corn Laws were abolished. So he thanked the Mouse, and
went down to the village, and bought him a beautiful piece of meat.
After this the Mouse every day brought the Farmer a golden sovereign,
and every day the Farmer gave him a big chunk of meat. Thus in a few
weeks Mousie grew quite fat.</p>
<p>But the Farmer had a big black cat that used to prowl about watching
for mice. It used never to notice the Farmer’s own favourite
Mouse while the Mouse was thin; but when he grew sleek and fat and
shiny, Grimalkin (which was the Cat’s name) lay in wait for him
one day and pounced upon him. Poor little Mousie was terrified.</p>
<p>“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Grimalkin!” said
Mousie.</p>
<p>“Why not? I’m hungry and you are fat!”</p>
<p>“But, sir, if you eat me now, you’ll be hungry
to-morrow, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“Of course I shall!” said Grimalkin.</p>
<p>“Well,” said Mousie, who had suddenly thought of a plan;
“if you will only let me go, I’ll bring you a beautiful
juicy piece of meat every day!”</p>
<p>This was a tempting offer for Grimalkin, who was a lazy Cat, and
liked sitting by the fire, and licking himself all over, better than
hunting for mice.</p>
<p>“All right,” said he; “only if you leave out one
day, you’re a dead mouse!” Then, with a frightful spit,
bristling up all his whiskers and eyebrows, Grimalkin ran away.</p>
<p>So next day, when the Farmer gave Mousie his dinner, Mousie carried
it off to the black Cat, and the black Cat spat and swore and ate it
up, and away ran Mousie <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb36" href="#pb36" name="pb36">36</SPAN>]</span>trembling. But by degrees Mousie grew
thinner and thinner, because Grimalkin always had his dinner; and soon
he was nothing but skin and bone. Then the Farmer noticed how thin his
Mouse had become, so one day he asked the Mouse whether he was ill.</p>
<p>“No,” said Mousie, “I’m not ill.”</p>
<p>“What is the matter, then?” asked the Farmer.</p>
<p>“I never get any dinner now,” said Mousie, with tears
running down over his nose, “because Grimalkin eats it
all!” Then he told the Farmer about the bargain he had made with
Grimalkin.</p>
<p>Now the Farmer had a beautiful piece of glass, with a hole in the
middle. I think it was an inkstand, but I am not sure. So he took this
piece of glass and put Mousie inside it, and turned it upside down upon
the ground in front of Mousie’s hole. “Now,” said he,
“next time Grimalkin comes for your dinner, tell him you have
none for him, and see what will happen.”</p>
<p>So next day up comes Grimalkin for his dinner, spitting and looking
very fierce.</p>
<p>“Meat! meat!” says he to the Mouse.</p>
<p>“Get off, vile thief!” says Mousie, “I’ve no
meat for the likes of you!”</p>
<p>At this Grimalkin could hardly believe his ears. He was in a rage, I
can tell you; and, without stopping to think, pounced upon Mousie, and
swallowed him, inkstand and all. You see, as it was all glass,
Grimalkin did not know that there was any inkstand there, because he
saw the Mouse through it.</p>
<p>Now cats can digest a good deal, but they can’t digest a glass
inkstand. So Grimalkin, when he had swallowed <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb37" href="#pb37" name="pb37">37</SPAN>]</span>the
Mouse and the inkstand, felt a pain inside; and this got worse and
worse, until at last he died. And then Mousie crept out of the
inkstand, and crawled up through Grimalkin’s throat, and went
back to his hole again. And there he lived all his life in happiness,
every day bringing a golden sovereign to the Farmer, who gave him every
day a beautiful dinner of meat.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e871width"><ANTIMG src="images/p037.gif" alt="Mouse." width-obs="192" height-obs="94"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb38" href="#pb38" name=
"pb38">38</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch8" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p038.gif" alt="The Talkative Tortoise" width-obs="198" height-obs="678"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Talkative Tortoise</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a Tortoise that lived in a
pond. He was a most worthy Tortoise, but he had one fault, he would
talk in season and out of season; all day long it was chatter, chatter,
chatter in that pond, until the fish said that they would rather live
on dry land than put up with it any longer.</p>
<p>But the Tortoise had two friends, a pair of young Geese, who used to
fly about near the pond in search of food. And when they heard that
things were getting hot for the <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb39"
href="#pb39" name="pb39">39</SPAN>]</span>Tortoise in that pond, because
he talked so much, they flew up to him and cried eagerly:</p>
<p>“Oh, Tortoise! do come along with us! We have such a beautiful
home away in the mountains, where you may talk all day long, and nobody
shall worry you there!”</p>
<p>“All very well,” grumbled the Tortoise, “but how
am I to get there? I can’t fly!”</p>
<p>“Oh, we’ll carry you, if you can only keep your mouth
shut for a little while.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I can do that,” says he, “when I like. Let
us be off.”</p>
<p>So the Geese picked up a stout stick, and one Goose took one end in
her bill and the other Goose took the other end, and then they told the
Tortoise to get hold in the middle; “only be careful,” said
they, “not to talk.”</p>
<p>The Tortoise set his teeth fast on the stick, and held on like grim
death, while the Geese, flapping their strong wings, rose in the air
and flew towards their home.</p>
<p>All went well for a time. But it so happened that some boys were
looking up in the air, and were highly amused by what they saw.</p>
<p>“Look there!” cried one to the rest, “two Geese
carrying a Tortoise on a stick!”</p>
<p>The Tortoise on hearing this was so angry that he forgot all about
his danger, and opened his mouth to cry out: “What’s that
to you? Mind your own business!” But <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb40" href="#pb40" name="pb40">40</SPAN>]</span>he got
no farther than the first word; for when his mouth opened he loosed the
stick, down he dropped, and fell with a crash on the stones.</p>
<p>The talkative Tortoise lay dead, with his shell cracked in two.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e909width"><ANTIMG src="images/p040.gif" alt="Old man carrying bag with dead Tortoise." width-obs="278" height-obs=
"347"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb41" href="#pb41" name=
"pb41">41</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch9" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p041.gif" alt="The Monkeys and the Gardener" width-obs="449" height-obs="565"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Monkeys and the Gardener</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a beautiful park, full of
all manner of trees and shrubs, with beds of flowers set here and
there, and no end of fruit-trees. A gardener used to take care of this
park; pruning the trees when they made too much wood, and digging the
ground, and watering the flowers in dry weather.</p>
<p>It happened that there was a fair to be held away in the city, and
the gardener very much wanted to go. But who would take care of the
park and garden? If his <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb42" href="#pb42" name="pb42">42</SPAN>]</span>master came in and found all the
flowers drooping or dead, what would he say then! It would never
do.</p>
<p>Meditating thus, and in doubt, he looked up into the branches of the
trees, and a bright thought struck him. I must tell you that in this
park there were not only herds of deer, and plenty of rabbits and other
creatures that usually live in parks, but there were troops of monkeys
in the trees, who climbed and chattered and cracked nuts all day long,
with no lessons to do. And when the gardener cast up his eyes to the
trees, he saw some monkeys that he knew very well indeed. Many a time
he had been kind to them; and now he thought they should do the like by
him, as one good turn deserves another.</p>
<p>So the gardener called out, “Monkeys, I want you!”</p>
<p>Down they all clambered, and in a very short time they were sitting
beside him on the grass.</p>
<p>“Monkeys,” said he, “I have been a good friend to
you, letting you eat my nuts and apples. And now I want to take a
holiday. Will you water my garden while I am away?”</p>
<p>“Oh yes, yes, yes!” cried the Monkeys. They thought it a
great joke, and leaped for joy.</p>
<p>So the gardener handed over his watering-pots to the monkeys, and
put on his Sunday clothes, and went away to the fair.</p>
<p>Meanwhile,the Monkeys held a solemn council, sitting in a ring round
the Monkey chief.</p>
<p>“Brothers,” said the Monkey chief, “our good
friend, the gardener has given us charge of this garden and all there
is in it. We must take care not to hurt anything, <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb43" href="#pb43" name="pb43">43</SPAN>]</span>and,
above all, not to waste the water. There is very little water, and I
really don’t think it will go round.”</p>
<div class="figure floatRight xd20e943width"><ANTIMG src=
"images/p043-1.gif" alt="Monkey measuring roots of plant." width="191"
height="240"></div>
<p>It was in fact a well, very small at the top, but very deep, and at
the bottom the water was always running. You might have watered till
doomsday out of that well; but monkeys, though they are cunning, are
not wise, and these monkeys thought that a little round hole could not
hold very much water.</p>
<div class="figure floatLeft xd20e950width"><ANTIMG src=
"images/p043-2.jpg" alt="Desperate gardener." width="209" height=
"336"></div>
<p>“So you see,” the Monkey chief went on, “you must
give each plant just enough water, and no more; and I think the best
way will be, to see how long the roots are.”</p>
<p>So each Monkey took a watering-pot, and they scattered all over the
garden. Every bush and every plant they carefully pulled up, and
measured its roots; and then they gave a great deal of water to plants
with long roots, and only a little when the roots were short. After
that <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb44" href="#pb44" name=
"pb44">44</SPAN>]</span>they put the plants and bushes back in the holes
they came from.</p>
<p>After a day or two, back came the gardener from his fair. But what
was his horror to see that nearly all the plants in the garden were
drooping, some of them dead and many dying, while the Monkeys were busy
in every direction pulling up the rest.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, oh dear, what in the world are you doing? My garden
is ruined, my garden is ruined!” The poor gardener wept for
sorrow.</p>
<p>The Chief Monkey was very much surprised. He thought he had been
very clever to put water according to the size of the roots, and he
said so.</p>
<p>“Clever!” said the gardener. “Clever indeed! Fools
you are, there is no mistake about it.”</p>
<p>“Fools they may be,” said his master, who had come up
behind him without being seen, “but, after all, that is their
nature. You ought to have known better than to put monkeys in charge of
a garden, and you are a greater fool than they.”</p>
<p>Then he sent that gardener away and got another.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e974width"><ANTIMG src="images/p044.gif" alt="Monkey in watering can." width-obs="256" height-obs="199"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb45" href="#pb45" name=
"pb45">45</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch10" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p045.gif" alt="The Goblin and the Sneeze" width-obs="359" height-obs="381"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Goblin and the Sneeze</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a very powerful Goblin, who
haunted a little house just outside the gates of a city. Nobody else
lived in this house. There was a big black beam that ran across from
one side to the other, up in the roof; and there this Goblin perched.
For twelve years he had served the King of the Goblins faithfully, and
as a reward he was now permitted to gobble up any man who sneezed
inside that house; and, indeed, that is why these creatures are called
Goblins. But if, when a man sneezed, some one else said, “God
bless you!” as people <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb46" href="#pb46" name="pb46">46</SPAN>]</span>do say, or “May you live a
hundred years!” then the man who said it was free; and if the
other answered, “The same to you!” he was free too.
Everybody but these the Goblin might gobble up for a single sneeze.</p>
<div class="figure floatLeft xd20e987width"><ANTIMG src="images/p046.gif" alt="Old man." width-obs="141" height-obs="347"></div>
<p>Now it fell out that one day a father and son were travelling along
the road, and they came to the city gates just as the sun went down. I
must tell you that in those days the people used to shut the city gates
fast at sunset, and nothing would make them open again till the
morning—they were horribly afraid of robbers or wild soldiers,
who might come and damage them in the night. So when these two
wayfarers came up to the gates, and wanted to go in, the porter said
no.</p>
<p>“Now, do we look like robbers?” asked the father.
Certainly they did not, dusty and grimy with their trudge, and a bag of
tools over the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Robbers or no robbers, orders are orders,” said the
porter, “and this gate doesn’t open for the King
himself.”</p>
<p>“Well, what are we to do?” The poor fellow was in
despair.</p>
<p>“Oh, there’s an empty house outside; there it is among
the trees. It is haunted, they say; but I daresay the Goblin
won’t hurt you.”</p>
<p>“Goblin!—well, we must take our chance, I
suppose.” Indeed, there was nothing for it; so to the house they
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb47" href="#pb47" name=
"pb47">47</SPAN>]</span>went. They rested, and cooked a meal for
themselves on a fire of sticks, and then prepared to go to sleep.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1006width"><ANTIMG src="images/p047.gif" alt="Goblin." width-obs="232" height-obs="287"></div>
<p>The Goblin, however, was not going to let them off so easily; he
wanted his dinner too. After waiting a long time, with never a sneeze
from one or the other, he raised a cloud of fine dust; that was rather
mean of him, but still he was very hungry, and did not stick at
trifles. Sure enough, the father nearly sneezed his head off.</p>
<p>The Goblin chuckled, and made ready to pounce from his perch and
devour the pair of them. But the son happened to see him, and, being a
sharp lad, he guessed the truth. “God bless you, father!”
says he; “may you live a hundred years!”</p>
<p>How the Goblin gnashed his teeth! However, if his <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb48" href="#pb48" name="pb48">48</SPAN>]</span>pudding
was lost, his meat was left; so he stretched out a great claw to clutch
the father and tear him to pieces.</p>
<p>Just then the father cried, “Thank you, my son, and the same
to you!”</p>
<p>He was only just in time; the claw was within an inch of his throat;
but the Goblin, baffled, flew up to his perch again, and sat mouthing
and mumbling there.</p>
<p>Then the son began to talk to this Goblin, and showed him the error
of his ways, and how cruel he was to eat men; and the end of it was, he
persuaded the Goblin to become a vegetarian, and to follow him about,
and be his errand-boy. You will think this was a very soft-hearted
Goblin. Perhaps no one had ever spoken kindly to him before; anyhow,
whatever the reason was, he went out with the two travellers, as tame
as a tabby cat; and for all I know, they may be travelling together to
this very day. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb49" href="#pb49" name=
"pb49">49</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch11" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Grateful Beasts and the Ungrateful Prince</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a King, and he had a son.
And this son was so cruel and disagreeable, that he took a delight in
hurting people, and never spoke to anybody without an oath or a blow.
He was a thorn in the flesh to everybody he came across; he was like
grit in the porridge, like a fly in the eye, like a stone in the shoon.
And they called him the Wicked Prince.</p>
<p>One day the Wicked Prince went down to the river to bathe, along
with a number of servants. By-and-by a great storm came on, and the
clouds were so thick that it became pitch-dark. However, this Prince
was obstinate, and would not give up his bathe; and as he was too lazy
even to bathe himself, he swore at his servants, and said:</p>
<p>“You lazy beasts! Bathe me, and look sharp about it, or
I’ll tickle you with a cat-o’-nine-tails!”</p>
<p>Now the servants had had enough of this young bully; and thought
they, “What if we pitch him into the river, where the current is
strong, and just leave him there! <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb50"
href="#pb50" name="pb50">50</SPAN>]</span>We can easily pretend he was
carried away where we could not reach him; and if the King finds us
out, and puts us to death—anyhow, death is better than his
eternal bullying.” So they pitched him head over heels into the
water, though he screamed and struggled, and then they went home and
told the King that he had gone in to bathe, and a flood carried him
away. I daresay it was wicked of them to tell such a lie, but it was
more the Prince’s fault than theirs.</p>
<p>Meanwhile the Prince had got hold of a tree that had been torn up by
the roots, and climbing upon it, went floating down the river.</p>
<p>Now on the banks of this river lived a Snake. This Snake had once
been a very rich man, and he had buried a vast treasure on the river
bank; and he loved his riches more than he loved his own soul, so when
he died, he was born again as a Snake, and had to live for ever close
to his buried hoard. And a Rat that lived close by had also been a man
once, and buried his money as the Snake had done, instead of using it
in doing good; so he was born as a Rat, and made a hole where his money
lay. These two creatures were caught by the flood, and it so happened
that they saw the tree where the Wicked Prince was, and swimming to it,
each got on one end, while the Prince was in the middle. And a young
Parrot flying through the air, was beaten down by the rain; for in that
country the drops of rain are as big as pigeons’ eggs, and no
birds can fly through it. Then it so happened that this Parrot dropped
down upon the same tree where the Snake was, and the Rat, and the
Wicked Prince; and so there were four of them on the tree, floating
down the river. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb51" href="#pb51" name=
"pb51">51</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1045width"><ANTIMG src="images/p051.jpg" alt="Prince floating in river, watched by servants." width-obs="468" height-obs=
"684"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb52" href="#pb52" name=
"pb52">52</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>As the tree came near to a bend in the river, it was washed close to
the bank. And on the bank a man was sitting. He did not mind the rain a
bit, because he was a Hermit, who thought the world so wicked that he
left it and went to live in the jungle all by himself. He built himself
a little hut by the riverside, and, wet or fine, he cared not a jot.
This man saw the tree, and managed to catch hold of it and pull it
ashore. Then he got the four creatures off it, and took them into his
hut, and dried them and warmed them by the fire. But he began with the
Parrot, because she looked the most miserable of them all; and then he
dried the Rat; and next the Snake; and only attended to the man when he
had comforted the other three. This made the Wicked Prince very angry.
If he abused even those who made much of him, you may imagine how he
cursed and swore in his heart at this man who left him to the last! But
he said nothing, because he was afraid that if he did the man might
turn him out in the storm again.</p>
<p>In a day or two the rain stopped, and the flood went down; and the
creatures were all right again as they took their leave of the Hermit.
The Snake thanked him for his kindness and said:</p>
<p>“You have saved my life, good Hermit! What can I do for you?
You seem to be a poor man; I am rich, and if you ever want money just
come to my hole and call ‘Snake,’ and you shall have all my
treasure. Good-bye!” The Rat said the same.</p>
<p>The Parrot was very sorry to think that she had no money, so she
said: “Silver and gold have I none; but if you ever are hungry,
and want some rice, come to my tree <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb53"
href="#pb53" name="pb53">53</SPAN>]</span>and call ‘Parrot,’
and I’ll get you as much rice as ever you like.”</p>
<p>But the Wicked Prince hated this kind Hermit, because he had been
left to the last. However, he pretended to be grateful, and said to the
Hermit: “I hope you will pay me a visit soon. I am a Prince, and
I shall be glad of a chance to repay you for all you have done for
me.” Then he went away, chuckling to think how he would torment
the poor Hermit, if ever he got him into his power.</p>
<p>This Hermit had all his wits about him, and he knew that people
often promise what they never mean to do; so after a while he thought
he would put them all to the test. So first he took his stick, and
journeyed to the city where the Wicked Prince lived. The Prince, who
was King himself now, saw him coming, and thought to himself:
“Aha! here’s that rascal that left me to the last. Wants me
to pay him for it, I suppose! Well, I’ll pay him! I’ll pay
him out!” So he called to his men: “Hi there, brutes! do
you see that fellow? He tried to rob me the other day—just catch
him and give him a flogging, and then stick a stake through his body,
and leave him to die!”</p>
<p>Then the servants caught the Hermit, and flogged him well. But the
Hermit did not cry out or grumble, only kept on saying to himself
quietly: “The proverb’s true, the proverb’s
true!”</p>
<p>“What proverb do you mean?” they asked him.</p>
<p>“It’s unlucky to save a drowning man,” said the
Hermit.</p>
<p>Then he told them the whole story, and very angry they were when
they heard it. They stopped beating the <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb54" href="#pb54" name="pb54">54</SPAN>]</span>Hermit at once, and
seizing the Wicked King, they beat him instead, and stuck a stake
through his body, and left him to die.</p>
<p>Then they made the Hermit King instead of the Wicked Prince. And the
Hermit took them a walk into the country, and when they came to the
Snake’s hole he called out “Snake!” Out came the
Snake, and curled up against his feet, and showed him the hole where
his treasure was; and the Hermit gave it all to his servants. And then
they went to the Rat’s hole, and he called out “Rat!”
And the Rat ran up, and rubbed his nose against the King’s hand,
and gave him all his treasure, which the King gave to his servants as
well as the other. And last of all they went to the Parrot’s
tree, and called “Parrot!” And the Parrot flew up and gave
a call, and instantly all the air was black with Parrots. And all the
Parrots carried a grain of rice in their beaks, and dropped it on the
ground; and there was such a heap of rice, that it was enough to feed
all the people for the rest of their lives.</p>
<p>So the grateful beasts kept their promise, and the ungrateful Prince
was killed, and the Hermit ruled over his people kindly, and they all
lived happily until they died. And when they died they all went to
heaven; and the Snake and the Rat and the Parrot went there too,
because they had at last overcome their love of money, and given it
away to show how grateful they were to the Hermit for being kind to
them. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb55" href="#pb55" name=
"pb55">55</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch12" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p056.gif" alt="The Goblin in the Pool" width-obs="463" height-obs="310"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Goblin in the Pool</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Animals in the forest have no bottles and glasses to
drink out of, so if they are thirsty they have to go down to a pool.
Now in a certain great forest there was a pool, in which lived a
horrible Goblin. He was big and black, like an immense monkey, with an
immense mouth, and four rows of sharp teeth; but he could not come out
of the water, because he had no nose, but only gills like a fish. So if
any animal came down into the water to get a drink, he pounced upon him
at once and gobbled him up; but he could not touch the animals while
they remained on the bank. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb56" href="#pb56" name="pb56">56</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>One year there was a great drought, and the sun was so hot that it
dried up all the water in that forest for many miles round, except the
pool where this Goblin was; but this pool was very deep and cool, under
the trees, and therefore it was not dried up. There was a herd of
monkeys who had been wandering about for a long time in search of
water, but found none, until they came to this pool. But the King of
the Monkeys was very clever, and he noticed that there were a great
many footprints going down to the water, and none coming away. So he
warned his Monkeys not to go near that pool. However, one of them was
very thirsty, and ran down into the water; but as soon as he got into
the water, and was having a delicious drink—suddenly he
disappeared! There were some bubbles, and no more was seen of the
Monkey. The other Monkeys watched for a long time, wondering what had
become of their friend; and then another, who was so thirsty that he
could not help it, stepped quietly into the water and began to drink.
In an instant he gave a shriek and threw up his hands, and the others
saw him dragged down below the water! A few bubbles came up to the top
and burst, but the poor Monkey was gone.</p>
<p>What were they to do? They were dying of thirst, and yet they were
afraid to drink; the banks were high, and they could not reach the
water from the top. So they all sat round the banks, looking at the
water, very unhappy.</p>
<p>By-and-by a man came down to the side of the pool. He wanted a drink
of water, but he had no glass. So he looked round, and then he saw the
Monkeys sitting on the bank, very unhappy. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb57" href="#pb57" name="pb57">57</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“What’s the matter?” said he.</p>
<p>“Don’t go into that pool!” said the King of the
Monkeys. “If you do, you will be drowned, like our two poor
friends!”</p>
<p>Then they told him how their friends had gone into the water to
drink, and how they had both been pulled underneath and drowned, none
of them could tell how.</p>
<p>The man understood at once that it was a Goblin. So he pulled up a
long reed that was growing on the bank of the pool and cut off the
ends, and then he put down one end of it into the water and sucked at
the other end, and the water came up from the pool into his mouth. At
this the Monkeys were delighted, and they all pulled up reeds from the
bank (for you know a monkey always imitates what he sees men do), and
sucked up the water through them, and so quenched their thirst without
going into the pool. And the Goblin, finding that no more food was to
be got, died of starvation; and a good thing too.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1103width"><ANTIMG src="images/p058.gif" alt="Monkey legs and tail sticking out of the water." width-obs="197" height-obs=
"174"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb59" href="#pb59" name=
"pb59">59</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch13" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p059.gif" alt="The Foolish Farmer and the King" width-obs="469" height-obs="210"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Foolish Farmer and the King</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once there was a foolish Farmer, who had a son at
court, serving the King. This Farmer was a very poor man, and all he
had to plough his fields with was one pair of oxen. Two oxen was all he
had, and one of them died.</p>
<p>The poor Farmer was in despair. One ox was not enough to draw the
plough over the heavy land; and he had no money to buy another. So he
sent a message to his son, that he was wanted at home.</p>
<p>When the son came, his father told him that one of his oxen was
dead, and he had no money to buy another. So he begged his son to ask
the King to give him an ox.</p>
<p>“No, no,” said his son, “I am always asking the
King for something. If you want an ox, you must ask him
yourself.”</p>
<p>“I can’t do it!” said the poor Farmer. “You
know <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb60" href="#pb60" name=
"pb60">60</SPAN>]</span>what a muddle-head I am. If I go to ask the King
for another ox, I shall end by giving him this one!”</p>
<p>“Well, what must be, must be,” said his son.
“Anyhow, I cannot ask the King: but I’ll train you to do
it.”</p>
<p>So he led his father to a place which was dotted all over with
clumps of grass. The young courtier tied up a number of bundles of this
grass, and arranged them in rows. “Now, look here, father,”
said he, “this is the King, that is the Prime Minister, that is
the General, here are the other grandees,” pointing to each
bundle as he said the name. “When you come into the King’s
presence, you must begin by saying: ‘Long live the King!’
and then ask your boon.” To help him to remember, the son made up
a little verse for his father to say, and this is the verse:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work
was done.</p>
<p class="line">Now one is dead: O, mighty king, please give me another
one!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">“Well,” said the Farmer, “I think I
can say that.” And he repeated it over and over, bowing and
scraping to the bunch of grass that he called the King.</p>
<p>Every day for a whole year the Farmer practised; and how the
ploughing got on meanwhile I do not know. Perhaps he lived on the
seed-corn, and did not plough at all.</p>
<p>At the end of the year he said to his son:</p>
<p>“Now I know that little verse of yours! Now I can say it
before any man! Take me to the King!”</p>
<p>So together father and son trudged away to the King’s palace.
There on a throne he sat, in gorgeous robes, with his courtiers all
around him, the Prime Minister, the <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb61"
href="#pb61" name="pb61">61</SPAN>]</span>General, and all, just as the
young man had told his father. But the poor Farmer! his head was
beginning to swim already.</p>
<p>“Who is this?” said the King to the Farmer’s son,
who, as you know, was a courtier, so the King knew him.</p>
<p>“It is my father, Sire,” he answered.</p>
<p>“What does he want?” the King asked.</p>
<p>All eyes were turned on the Farmer, who by this time was as red as a
turkey-cock, and hardly knew whether he stood on head or heels.
However, he plucked up courage, and out came the verse, as pat as a
pancake:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work
was done.</p>
<p class="line">Now one is dead: O, mighty king, please take the other
one!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The King couldn’t help laughing; and he saw
there must be a mistake somewhere. “Plenty of oxen at home,
eh!” said he, keeping up the joke.</p>
<p>“If so, Sire,” said the Farmer’s son with a bow,
“you must have given them.”</p>
<p>The King thought that rather neat. “If I have not given you
any so far,” said he, smiling, “I will do it
now.”</p>
<p>And when the pair got home, the Farmer in despair at his blunder, lo
and behold in his cowhouse were half a dozen of the finest oxen he had
ever seen! So the poor old Farmer got his oxen, though he did make a
muddle of the verse. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb62" href="#pb62"
name="pb62">62</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch14" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Pious Wolf</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once there was a flood, and there was a large rock
with a Wolf sleeping on the top. The water came pouring around the
rock, and when the Wolf awoke he found himself imprisoned, with no way
of getting off, and nothing to eat.</p>
<p>“H’m!” said he to himself, “here I am,
caught fast sure enough, and here I shall have to stay yet awhile.
Nothing to eat, either! Well,” he thought, after a pause,
“it is Friday to-day, when people say you ought to fast. Suppose
I keep a holy fast to-day? A capital idea!” So he crossed his
paws, and pretended to pray, and thought himself very good and pious to
be fasting.</p>
<p>A fairy saw this, and heard what he said; and she thought she would
just see how much was real and how much was sham. So she changed
herself into the shape of a pretty little Kid, and jumped down out of
the air on to the rock.</p>
<p>The Wolf opened an eye to see what the noise could be, and there was
a tender little Kid, standing on the rock. He forgot his prayers in a
minute. “Aha!” said he. “A Kid! I can keep my Friday
fast to-morrow. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb63" href="#pb63" name=
"pb63">63</SPAN>]</span>Now for the Kid!” He smacked his lips, and
jumped at the Kid.</p>
<p>But the Kid jumped away, and, try as he would, he could not come
near it. You know it was the fairy, and the fairy did not let herself
be caught.</p>
<p>After trying to catch the Kid for some time the Wolf lay down again.
“After all,” said he, “it is Friday; and perhaps I
had best keep my fast to-day.”</p>
<p>“You humbug!” said the fairy, who had gone back to her
proper shape; “you are a nice creature to pretend that you are
keeping fast! You fast because you can’t help it, not because you
are really good. As a punishment, you shall stay on this rock till next
Friday, and fast for a week!”</p>
<p>So saying, she opened her wings and flew far away. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb64" href="#pb64" name="pb64">64</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch15" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">Birds of a Feather</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a big horse called
Chestnut. He was as fierce as a fury, and bit everybody who came near
him; his groom always had a broken bone, or a bruise at the least; and,
as for the other horses, let Chestnut loose in the herd, and there was
a fine to-do: a kick for one, a bite for another; it was hurry, skurry,
worry, till they took themselves off and left him alone in the
clover.</p>
<p>Now the King wanted to buy some horses, and a dealer had driven down
a couple of hundred of them for the King to buy. But the King was a
skinflint, and wanted to get them cheap; so he dropped a hint to his
groom, that it would not be a bad thing if Chestnut made acquaintance
with these horses; at the same time, he dropped a gold piece in the
groom’s hand. So the groom led Chestnut by this new herd, and,
all of a sudden, he quietly flicked Chestnut with his whip; Chestnut
reared and plunged, the groom shouted, and, pretending to find the
horse too strong for him, let go the halter. Off galloped Chestnut,
kicking up his heels in the air, roaring and whinnying; and fine fun he
had among the new horses! <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb65" href="#pb65" name="pb65">65</SPAN>]</span>By the time he had done with them,
hardly one had a whole skin.</p>
<p>The poor dealer was in despair. He would be ruined! And next day,
when the King came to see the horses, he turned up his nose.
“Pooh! do you suppose I want bruised old hacks like that? Look at
that sore! And here is a broken jaw! Why, half of them limp!” In
vain the dealer protested that it was Chestnut’s fault; the King
only laughed, and asked if he expected him to believe that one horse
could do all that mischief. (And yet, as you know, it was one horse,
and at the King’s own bidding too.) However, it was a pity that
he should have to take them back again, the King said; so, if he liked,
as a favour, he would buy the horses, at half price.</p>
<p>The dealer was not taken in by this, but he pretended to be very
grateful, and went home again, wondering what he could do. He was
afraid to offend the King, and, indeed, very few people were rich
enough to buy his splendid horses. So he knew that he would be obliged
to take some more down to the King another time. Then he suddenly
remembered he had just such another vicious brute at home, named
Strongjaw, that nobody could do anything with. “Aha!” said
he; “I have it! I’ll take Strongjaw down with me next time,
and if he does not prove a match for Chestnut I am very much
mistaken.” He chuckled with glee as he thought what a fine fight
there would be between the two.</p>
<p>Next time, as he had resolved, he brought Strongjaw with the drove,
and as soon as the King’s groom came by with Chestnut, and let
him go as he did before, the dealer’s eyes twinkled, and he let
out Strongjaw. Chestnut <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb66" href="#pb66" name="pb66">66</SPAN>]</span>pricked up his ears, and Strongjaw
pricked up his; then, without taking any notice of the rest, they
trotted up to each other and rubbed noses, and began to lick each other
all over. They did not fight at all, but in a moment they became bosom
friends.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1208width"><ANTIMG src="images/p066.gif" alt="Laughing King." width-obs="353" height-obs="268"></div>
<p>The dealer could not understand this, neither could the King.
However, this time the King had to pay a good price for the horses, and
as he saw his little trick was found out, he felt rather ashamed of
himself, and so he paid the man for the other horses as well. Still,
they kept wondering and wondering what the reason could be that these
two horses, each so fierce and wild, were quiet as a pair of kittens
together. The King asked the wisest man in all his kingdom to explain
it; and the man, who was a minstrel, that is, he used to sing songs to
the King <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb67" href="#pb67" name=
"pb67">67</SPAN>]</span>about all that had happened or would happen in the
world, took up his harp and sang:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“If the reason you would know,</p>
<p class="line">Like to like will always go;</p>
<p class="line">Here’s a pair of vicious horses</p>
<p class="line">Just the same in all their courses;</p>
<p class="line">Both are wild, and bite their tether:</p>
<p class="line">Birds of a feather flock together.”</p>
</div>
<p class="first"></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1230width"><ANTIMG src="images/p067.gif" alt="Old man pulling wooden toy horse." width-obs="433" height-obs="314"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb68" href="#pb68" name=
"pb68">68</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch16" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p068.gif" alt="Spend a Pound to Win a Penny" width-obs="152" height-obs="672"></div>
<h2 class="main">Spend a Pound to Win a Penny</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Some people were steaming peas under a tree, in order
to make a meal for their horses. Up in the branches sat a Monkey, who
watched with his restless eyes what they were doing.</p>
<p>“Aha!” thought the Monkey. “I spy my
dinner!”</p>
<p>So when they had finished steaming the peas, and turned away for a
moment to look after the horses, gently, gently, the Monkey let himself
down from the tree. He grabbed at the peas, and stuffed his mouth with
them, and both hands as full as they could hold, then he clambered up
to his perch as best <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb69" href="#pb69"
name="pb69">69</SPAN>]</span>he could. There he sat, his wizened old face
happy and cunning, eating the peas.</p>
<p>Suddenly one pea fell.</p>
<p>“O dear, O dear! O my pea, my pea!” cried the Monkey,
gibbering in distress. The other peas began to fall out of his mouth,
but he did not notice them. He wrung his hands in despair, and the peas
began to fall out of his hands too, but he took no notice. All he
thought of was this, that one pea was gone.</p>
<p>So he shinned down the trunk, and scrambled about on the ground,
hunting for his lost pea, but he could not find it anywhere.</p>
<p>By this time the men had come back, after seeing to their horses.
When they saw a monkey meddling with their cooking-pots they all waved
their arms, and called out, “Shoo! shoo!” Then they picked
up stones, and began to pelt the Monkey with them. This terrified the
Monkey so much that he gave one jump to the nearest branch, and swung
himself up to the top of the tree.</p>
<p>“After all,” said he to himself, “it was only one
pea.” But he ought to have thought of that before, for now like a
thunderclap, it came home to him, that somehow or other all the other
peas had gone too.</p>
<p>That day the Monkey had to content himself with the smell of boiled
peas for dinner, and I hope the loss taught him not to be so greedy in
future. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb70" href="#pb70" name=
"pb70">70</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch17" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Cunning Crane and the Crab</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time a number of fish lived in a little
pool. It was all very well while there was rain; but when summer came,
and it began to be very hot, the water dried up and got lower and
lower, until there was hardly enough to hide the fish.</p>
<p>Now not far away there was a beautiful lake, always fresh and cool;
for it lay under the shadow of great trees, and it was covered all over
with water-lilies. And a Crane lived on the banks of this lake.</p>
<p>The Crane used to eat fish, when he could catch any; and one day,
coming to the little pool, he saw all the fish gasping in it, and
thought of a neat trick to get hold of them without trouble.</p>
<p>“Dear Fish,” said the Crane, “I am so sorry to see
you cooped up in this hole. I know a beautiful lake close by, deep and
fresh and cool, and if you like I will carry you there.”</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1271width"><ANTIMG src="images/p071.jpg" alt="Crane talking to Fish." width-obs="504" height-obs="703"></div>
<p>The Fish did not know what to make of this, because never since the
world began had a crane done a good turn to a fish. You see it is just
as absurd to suppose <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb73" href="#pb73"
name="pb73">73</SPAN>]</span>that a crane would help fish, as to think
that a cat would be kind to a mouse.</p>
<p>So they said to the Crane, “We don’t believe you; what
you want is to eat us.”</p>
<p>This was just what the Crane did want, but he did not say so.
“No, no!” said he; “I’m not so cruel as all
that. I have eaten a fish now and then”—he saw it was of no
use denying that, because they knew he had—“but I have
plenty of other food, and it goes to my heart to see you here. In this
hot water you will all be boiled fish before long!”</p>
<p>“That’s true enough,” said the Fish; “the
water is hot.” Well, the end of it was, they persuaded an old
Fish with one eye to go and see.</p>
<p>The Crane took the one-eyed Fish in his beak and put him in the
lake; and when he had seen that what the Crane said was true so far, he
carried the Fish back again to tell the others.</p>
<p>The old Fish could not say enough to praise the lake.
“It’s ever so big,” he said, “and deep and
cool, just as the Crane said; and there are trees overshadowing it, and
water-lilies are growing in the mud; and the whole of it is covered
with fine fat flies! Ah, what a feast I have had!” And he rolled
up his one eye at the thought of it.</p>
<p>Then all the Fish were eager to go. And now it was who should be
first; every Fish was anxious to remain no longer in the pool. They
came to the top of the water, all begging the Crane to take them to
this beautiful lake.</p>
<p>“One at a time!” said the Crane. “I have only one
beak, you know!” And he smiled to himself, for that beak was made
to eat fish, not to carry them. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb74"
href="#pb74" name="pb74">74</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>However, it was decided that as the one-eyed Fish had been so brave
as to trust himself in the Crane’s beak, before he knew what the
truth was, he certainly deserved to go first.</p>
<p>So the Crane took the one-eyed Fish in his beak, and carried him
over to the lake. But this time he did not drop the Fish in; he laid
him in the cleft of a tree, and pecked his one eye out with his beak;
then he killed him, and ate him up, and dropped his bones at the foot
of the tree.</p>
<p>By-and-by the Crane came back for another. “Now then,
who’s next?” asked the Crane. “Old One-eye is
swimming about, as happy as a king!” He picked up another fish,
and served him like the first, dropping his bones at the foot of the
tree.</p>
<p>And so it went on, until in a few days the pool was empty. The
cunning Crane had eaten every single one of the fish! He stood on the
bank, peering into every hole, to see whether there might not be a
little one left somewhere. There was one, surely! No, it was a Crab.
Never mind, he thought; all’s fish that comes to my net!</p>
<p>So he invited the Crab to come with him to the lake.</p>
<p>“Why, how are you going to carry me?” asked the
Crab.</p>
<p>“In my beak, to be sure!” replied the Crane.</p>
<p>“You might drop me,” said the Crab, “and then I
should split.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, I promise I won’t drop you!” said the
Crane. But the Crab had more sense than all the fish put together, and
he did not believe in the Crane’s friendship <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb75" href="#pb75" name="pb75">75</SPAN>]</span>at all.
So he still pretended to hesitate, and at last he said:</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll tell you what. I can hold on tighter with my
claws than you can with your beak. I’ll come, but you must let me
hold on to your neck with my claws. Then I shall feel safe.”</p>
<p>The Crane was so hungry that, without stopping to think, he agreed;
and then the Crab got tight hold of his neck with his claws, and the
Crane carried him towards the lake.</p>
<p>But after a while the Crab saw that he was being carried somewhere
else, indeed to that tree where the Crane used to sit and eat the
fish.</p>
<p>“Crane dear,” said he, “aren’t you going to
put me in the lake?”</p>
<p>“Crane dear, indeed!” said the Crane, “do you
suppose I was born to carry crabs about? Not I! Just look at that heap
of bones under yon tree! Those are the bones of the fish that used to
live in your pool. I ate them, and I’m going to eat
you!”</p>
<p>“Are you, though!” said the Crab, and gave the
Crane’s neck a little nip.</p>
<p>Then the Crane saw what a fool he had been to let a Crab put a claw
round his neck. He knew that the Crab could kill him if he liked, and
he was frightened to death at the thought. People who try to deceive
others often pay for it themselves; and that is what happened to the
Crane.</p>
<p>“Dear Crab!” said he, with tears streaming from his
eyes, “forgive me! I won’t kill you, only let me
go!”</p>
<p>“Just put me in the lake, then,” said the Crab.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb76" href="#pb76" name=
"pb76">76</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>The Crane stepped down to the lakeside, and laid the Crab upon the
mud. And the Crab, as soon as he felt himself safe, nipped off the
Crane’s head as clean as if it had been cut with a knife.</p>
<p>So perished the treacherous Crane, caught by his own trick. And the
Crab lived happily in the beautiful lake for the rest of his life.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb77" href="#pb77" name=
"pb77">77</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch18" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p077.gif" alt="Union is Strength"
width="291" height="362"></div>
<h2 class="main">Union is Strength</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">There once was a clever Fowler who used to hunt
quails. He could imitate the quail’s note exactly; and when he
had found a hiding-place, he used to sit hidden in it, and call out the
quail’s note, until a number of quails had come together; then he
threw a net over them, and bagged them all.</p>
<p>But amongst the quails was one very clever bird, and he hit on the
following device: He told the quails, when they felt the net drop over
them, that each one should <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb78" href="#pb78" name="pb78">78</SPAN>]</span>pop his head through one of the
meshes of the net, and then at the word, away they should fly
together.</p>
<p>All fell out as he arranged. Next day the Fowler sounded his
imitation of the quail’s note, and the birds flocked from far and
near; then, when a good many had gathered in a clump within his reach,
he cast the net, which fell over them and made them all prisoners. They
all did what the wise Quail had told them; each quail put his head
through one of the meshes, then at a word they were all away together,
bearing the net with them. After some little time they saw a large
bush, and dropped upon this bush; then the net was held up by the bush,
while all the birds got away underneath.</p>
<p>Again and again this happened, until the Fowler began to despair; he
came home every night empty-handed, and besides that he had lost ever
so many nets.</p>
<p>Why did he keep on trying to catch them, then? Because he thought
that sooner or later they would begin to quarrel, and then the game
would be his.</p>
<p>And quarrel they soon did. One Quail happened to tread on
another’s toe.</p>
<p>“What are you doing, clumsy?” said the second Quail
angrily.</p>
<p>“I’m very sorry,” said the first; “I really
did not mean to tread on your toe.”</p>
<p>“You did!”</p>
<p>“I tell you I didn’t!”</p>
<p>“What a lie!”</p>
<p>“A lie, is it? Hoity, toity, how high-and-mighty we are, to be
sure! I suppose it is you lift up the net, all by yourself, when the
man throws it over us!” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb79" href="#pb79" name="pb79">79</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>And so they went on, getting angrier and angrier. And the result
was, that next day, when the fowler made his cast, said the first Quail
to the second:</p>
<p>“Now then, Samson, lift away! They say that last time your
feathers all fell off your head!”</p>
<p>“Oh, indeed! They say that when you tried to lift, both your
wings moulted! Lift away, and let us see if it is true!”</p>
<p>But while they were quarrelling, and each telling the other to lift
the net, the Fowler lifted it for them, and crammed them all together
into his basket, and took them home for supper.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1381width"><ANTIMG src="images/p079.gif" alt="Man with kettle above fire." width-obs="231" height-obs="358"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb80" href="#pb80" name=
"pb80">80</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch19" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p080.jpg" alt="Silence is Golden"
width="473" height="440"></div>
<h2 class="main">Silence is Golden</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time a Lion had a she-jackal for his mate,
and they had a young one<span class="corr" id="xd20e1391" title=
"Source: ,">.</span> This Cub was just like his sire to look at, in
shape and colour, mane and claws; but in voice he took after his dam.
So you would fancy he was a lion, so long as he held his tongue.</p>
<p>This Cub used to play about with the young Lions, and merry times
they had to be sure, tumbling head over heels, and trying to knock each
other down. One day, in the midst of their game, the mongrel Cub
thought he would frighten them; so he opened his mouth wide, intending
to roar, and all that came out was a yelp like the yelp of a jackal.
The other young Lions were quite shocked; they <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb81" href="#pb81" name="pb81">81</SPAN>]</span>could
not imagine what strange creature this was. One of them went up to the
old Lion, who was watching them, and said:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Lion’s claws and lion’s paws</p>
<p class="line">Lion’s feet to stand upon;</p>
<p class="line">But the bellow of this fellow</p>
<p class="line">Sounds not like a lion’s son!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">“You are right,” said the old Lion;
“his dam was a Jackal.” And then, turning to the poor Cub,
who was looking very crestfallen, he said:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“All will see what kind you be</p>
<p class="line">If you yelp as once before;</p>
<p class="line">So don’t try it, but keep quiet,</p>
<p class="line">Yours is not a lion’s roar.”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The poor Cub slunk away with his tail between his
legs, while the other Lions sniffed and turned up their noses at him.
Ever after that he took good care to hold his tongue when he was in the
company of his betters.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1421width"><ANTIMG src="images/p081.gif" alt="Cub hiding face behind paws." width-obs="203" height-obs="204"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb82" href="#pb82" name=
"pb82">82</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch20" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Great Yellow King and His Porter</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time, in a great and rich city, reigned a
mighty King, who was called by the title of the Great Yellow King. This
King was very cruel to his people, and ground them like grist in the
mill; he robbed them of their goods, many he cast into prison, others
he ill-treated, cutting off an arm, or a leg, or blinding them, and
some he put to death without cause. He was just as bad at home; when he
was a boy he did nothing but tease his sisters, pulling their hair and
putting spiders down their necks; and now that he was grown up he made
life a misery to wife and child. He was like a speck of dust that gets
into your eye, or a thorn in the heel, or grit between your teeth.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1432width"><ANTIMG src="images/p083.jpg" alt="Great Yellow King." width-obs="494" height-obs="713"></div>
<p>But it is a long lane that has no turning; and at last the Great
Yellow King died. When a king or queen dies, people are generally very
sorry, and wear mourning for them; but when the Great Yellow King died
there was such rejoicing and merriment as had not been known for many a
long day. All the shops were shut, and all the <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb85" href="#pb85" name="pb85">85</SPAN>]</span>schools
had a whole holiday; there were raree-shows and merry-go-rounds, and
everybody high and low was half daft with joy.</p>
<p>But one man was not joyful. On the steps of the palace sat the
Yellow King’s porter, sighing and sobbing, weeping and wailing.
No one could understand it; everybody in the whole town was glad, and
here was this porter crying! At last some one asked him why he
cried.</p>
<p>“What is the matter?” said he. “Was the Great
Yellow King so kind to you as all that? I never heard of his being kind
to anybody!”</p>
<p>“No, it isn’t that!” sobbed the man.</p>
<p>“Well, what is it then?”</p>
<p>The man looked up and rubbed his eyes. “Well,” said he,
“I’ll tell you. When his majesty used to come out of his
palace, down the steps, he always gave me a cuff on the head, and
another when he came back. What a fist his majesty had, to be sure! Now
if he tries that game on with the porter who sits by the gates of
Death, I am very much afraid they won’t have him there at any
price, and then he will come back to us!”</p>
<p>But the other man laughed, and said, “Don’t be afraid of
that, Porter! He’s dead and done for, and however much they wish
it, they can never send him back to us again.”</p>
<p>So the Porter was comforted, and wiped his eyes, and went to get a
glass of beer. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb86" href="#pb86" name=
"pb86">86</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch21" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p086.jpg" alt="The Quail and the Falcon" width-obs="316" height-obs="396"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Quail and the Falcon</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">There once was a young Quail that lived on a farm.
When the farmer ploughed up the land, Quailie used to hop about over
the clods and pick up seeds, or weeds, or worms, or anything that the
plough turned up, and he ate these and lived on them.</p>
<p>You might think this was very nice for him; he had no trouble to
find food, because the ploughman turned it up; he had only to hop along
after the plough and peck. Not a bit of it; he must needs better
himself, as he said; so one fine day he flew away over the farm, away
to the forest which fringed it; and, alighting on the ground just where
the forest began, he looked about to see if there was anything good to
eat.</p>
<p>Up in the air, just above the tree-tops, a Falcon was sailing,
poised on outstretched wings; as Quailie searched for <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb87" href="#pb87" name="pb87">87</SPAN>]</span>worms,
so the Falcon was searching for quails; and lo and behold, he spied
one! Down he came with a swoop and a whirr, and in an instant the Quail
was in his crooked claws.</p>
<p>What could poor Quailie do now? He twittered and fluttered, and at
last began to cry.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, oh dear!” whimpered Quailie, the tears running
down his beak, “what a fool I was to poach on other
people’s preserves! If I had only stayed at home this Falcon
could never have caught me, not even if he had come and
tried!”</p>
<p>“What’s that, Quailie?” asked the Falcon.
“Do you think I can’t catch you anywhere?”</p>
<p>“Not on my own ground!” cried the Quail.</p>
<p>“What do you mean by that?”</p>
<p>“A ploughed field full of clods.”</p>
<p>“Oh, nonsense, Quailie, clods won’t help you. Just try;
off you go! I’ll follow.”</p>
<p>The Quail flew off, feeling as happy now as he was miserable a
moment gone; and when he got back to his farm he picked out a big clod
and perched on the top. “Come on, Falcon!” cried he;
“come on!”</p>
<p>Down came the Falcon with a swoop like a flash of lightning; but
just as he came close the Quail dodged him nimbly and tumbled over the
clod to the other side, leaving the Falcon to come full tilt against
the clod of earth; and so swift was he, that the shock killed him.</p>
<p>So the Quail found out how much better it is for most people to
stick to what they are used to; and as for the Falcon, he might have
thought, if he had been able to think at all, that a bird in the hand
is worth two in the bush. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb88" href="#pb88" name="pb88">88</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch22" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p088.jpg" alt="Pride Must Have a Fall" width-obs="461" height-obs="171"></div>
<h2 class="main">Pride Must Have a Fall</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a beautiful wild Goose that
lived in the mountains; he was King of the Geese, and he had a mate and
two or three fine young ones. But it had happened once that this Goose,
in his travels about the world, fell in with a young lady Crow, who was
very pretty; as black as jet, with two eyes like black beads, and she
flirted and flouted so enchantingly that he had married her, like the
goose he was; so he had two wives, the little black Crow and the
Goose.</p>
<p>In course of time this Crow laid a beautiful egg, all white with
blue spots, and twice as big as an ordinary crow’s egg. She was
very proud of her egg, and sat on it for a longtime, until one day,
pop! went the egg, and out came a funny little chick. The Crow did not
know what to make of this chick; he was not black, as she was, and he
was not white, like his father, but something betwixt and between, a
dingy grey with brown streaks. So she named him Streaky. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb89" href="#pb89" name="pb89">89</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>Be sure that Streaky fancied himself mightily, being so very
different from all the Crows he lived with; he was larger, to begin
with, and then he had a very loud voice, with several different notes
in it; not to mention his brown streaks, which made him a proud bird
indeed. And I think the other Crows took him at his own price, as
foolish creatures are apt to do, and thought him very wonderful, though
he was really only a mongrel.</p>
<p>Now the Goose, his father, used to pay a visit to the Crow colony
now and again, flying down from the mountains to the dust-heap where
they lived, outside the city gate. But he did not stay long, because
the Crows used to feed on offal and dead bodies, in fact anything dirty
they could find; and King Goose could not get what he liked to eat.</p>
<p>Well, once as he was talking to his sons, the young Geese, they
asked him why he was always going away for days at a time.</p>
<p>“Why,” said he, “I go to see a son of mine that
lives somewhere else.”</p>
<p>“Oh, how nice!” said the Geese. “Then he must be
our brother. Do let us bring him here on a visit! Do,
father!”</p>
<p>At first the father Goose would not let them go, for fear of
mischief; but after a while he was persuaded, and gave them very
careful directions how to fly, and where to go, and how to find the
place where Streaky lived, on the top of a tall palm-tree that grew out
of a dust-heap at the city gate.</p>
<p>So away they flew, and away they flew, till at last they saw the
tall palm-tree; and on the very top of it, a big <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb90" href="#pb90" name="pb90">90</SPAN>]</span>nest;
and in the nest, a little black Crow, and our funny friend Streaky.</p>
<p>They said “How do you do?” and told their errand;
because they meant to go through with it now, although they did not
much like the look of this ugly bird Streaky, with his airs and graces.
Mrs. Crow was very much pleased, but Streaky looked bored, and
said:</p>
<p>“Aw, caw, I don’t think I can fly all that way. It is
really too much trouble. Why did not the Governor come to see me
instead, as usual—aw?” This rude bird called his father the
Governor; you see, as he had been brought up among carrion crows, his
manners were none of the best.</p>
<p>The young Geese began to like him less than ever. However, they put
a good face on it, and answered him:</p>
<p>“Well, Streaky, if you are as weak as all that, we will carry
you on a stick.”</p>
<p>These Geese were very big, strong birds, and they thought nothing of
carrying Streaky. So they looked about until they found a strong stick,
and then each of them took an end in his mouth, and Streaky perched in
the middle. They could not say good-bye to Mrs. Crow, because their
mouths were full of the stick, but they made her a nice bow, like
polite little Geese, and flew off.</p>
<p>As for Streaky, he was far too full of his own importance to say
good-bye to his mother, or even so much as “Thank you” to
the two birds who were so kindly carrying him. There he sat, on the
middle of the stick, as proud as Punch, pluming his feathers, and
feeling that now all the world would see what a splendid bird he was.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb91" href="#pb91" name=
"pb91">91</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>As they flew over the city Streaky looked down, and saw the king of
the city, in a beautiful carriage drawn by four white thoroughbreds,
driving round the city in great state and grandeur. “Aha!”
thought he, “that’s as it should be! But I’m every
bit as good as he!” and in his joy he began to sing a little song
which he made up on the spur of the moment, and here is his song:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“As yonder king goes galloping with his
milk-white four-in-hand,</p>
<p class="line">Streaky has these, his pair of Geese, to carry him over
the land!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The Geese were very angry when they heard Streaky sing
this song. But they were very well-bred Geese, as you must have seen
already; so they said nothing at all to him then, but carried him
safely to their home, and then they told their father what Streaky had
said, so that he might do as he thought best.</p>
<p>Old King Goose was more angry than they were, and was very sorry he
had left his son to be brought up by a Crow who knew no manners. So he
called Streaky, and this is what he said:</p>
<p>“Streaky, you have been very rude to your brothers, who are at
least as good as you; and if you think they are like a pair of horses,
to be driven about for your pleasure, you make a great mistake. So the
best thing you can do is to fly back to your mother; for your manners
suit the dust-heap better than the mountains.”</p>
<p>I don’t know whether Streaky was ashamed of what he had said;
creatures like Streaky are very thick-skinned, and it takes a great
deal to make them ashamed; but anyhow he had to go back, and this time
he must fly by himself, for it was hardly likely that his brothers
would <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb92" href="#pb92" name=
"pb92">92</SPAN>]</span>carry him when he had been so rude. He got back a
few days later, tired and hungry, and spent the rest of his days on the
dust-heap, eating carrion. What his mother thought of it all I
don’t know; but King Goose never went to see them any more.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1545width"><ANTIMG src="images/p092.gif" alt="Goose." width-obs="173" height-obs="173"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb95" href="#pb95" name=
"pb95">95</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch23" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Bold Beggar</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">There was once a King who was so fond of good eating
and drinking that they called him King Dainty. He often spent as much
as a thousand pounds on a single dish; which is great wastefulness,
when you can dine heartily for a shilling. He thought that if people
could not eat things so nice as his, yet they must greatly enjoy seeing
him eat them. So he fitted up a beautiful tent outside his own door,
and there he took his meals, sitting on a golden throne, under a white
silk umbrella. Anybody who liked could see him eat his dinner without
charge. This was very generous, wasn’t it?</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1557width"><ANTIMG src="images/p094.jpg" alt="Eating man." width-obs="468" height-obs="667"></div>
<p>A man who had often seen him eat thought he would like a taste of
the King’s choice food. And this is what he did.</p>
<p>He came running towards the crowd who, as usual, were watching the
King eat his dinner, and shouted: “News! news! news!” Now
at that time there were no newspapers, and no posts, and no telegraphs;
so any one who brought news was sure of instant hearing. Accordingly
the crowd made way for him at once, and he ran up to the King, looking
very much excited, and <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb96" href="#pb96"
name="pb96">96</SPAN>]</span>shouting “News!” Then he fell
down before the King, as if he were faint with hunger, and gasped.</p>
<p>“Poor fellow!” said the King. “Give him something
to eat.” So they propped him up on a chair, and the King fed him
out of his own dish, and gave him delicious wine to drink. The man made
a hearty meal, I can tell you. They thought he never would finish; but
he did finish at last, after an hour or two.</p>
<p>Then the King said to him: “Now, my good fellow, let us hear
your news.”</p>
<p>“The news is, your Majesty,” said the man, “that
an hour ago I was hungry, and now I am not!”</p>
<p>All the people looked shocked at his impertinence. But the King only
laughed, and said: “That news is true of most of us every day of
our lives. Well, you are a bold fellow; this time you may go free, but
I advise you not to try it again.”</p>
<p>The man bowed low, and went away happy in the success of his trick.
I don’t know whether the King spent less money upon his dinner
after that, but I am quite sure that no one else got a meal at his
table in the same way. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb97" href="#pb97"
name="pb97">97</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch24" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p097.gif" alt="The Jackal Would A-Wooing Go" width-obs="225" height-obs="249"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Jackal Would A-Wooing Go</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a family of Lions that
lived in the Himalaya Mountains in a Golden Cave. They were three
brothers and one sister. Near by was a silver mountain with a Crystal
Cave, and in this Crystal Cave lived a Jackal.</p>
<p>The young Lions used to be out all day, hunting, while their sister
kept everything neat and tidy at home. When they caught anything they
used to keep a bit for her, because they were not greedy Lions, and
they thought that if she did the work at home she deserved some of the
game they got abroad.</p>
<p>Now this Jackal fell violently in love with the young Lioness. She
was very beautiful, with soft brown fur, and large soft eyes, and fine
whiskers; and he did not stop to think what a mongrel cur a Jackal
looks beside a Lion, how small, and sneaking, and snarling; so that it
was the height of impertinence even to think of such a thing.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb98" href="#pb98" name=
"pb98">98</SPAN>]</span>He did think of it, and more, he actually proposed
to the Lioness! You shall hear how he did it.</p>
<p>He had the sense to wait until the three brothers had gone out
hunting for food; and then he came and tapped on the rock at the mouth
of the Golden Cave. The Lioness looked out, and very much surprised was
the Lioness to see the Jackal there. She knew him by sight, of course,
as a neighbour; and, indeed, when he was in his Crystal Cave you could
always see him, perched up in the air as it might be; for you can see
through crystal like glass, and it looked just as if there were nothing
there. But they were not on visiting terms, so the Lioness was
surprised to see him come tapping at her door. She gave him a distant
bow, and waited.</p>
<p>“Beautiful Lioness!” said he, “I love you! see how
much we are alike! You have four feet, and so have I; clearly we are
made for one another. Will you marry me? We shall be so happy
together!”</p>
<p>This offer so astonished the Lioness that she could say nothing. She
hated the vile creature, vilest of all creatures; that he should dare
to address himself to a royal lioness! a scavenger to a queen! The very
thought of the insult made her furious. She resolved that, after such a
thing as that had spoken to her, she might just as well die, either by
holding her breath or by starving herself. As these thoughts passed
through her mind the Jackal was waiting for his answer; but no answer
he got. This seemed a pretty broad hint that he was not wanted there;
so he went home again, very woebegone, with his tail between his legs,
and lay down in his Crystal Cave in much misery. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb99" href="#pb99" name="pb99">99</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>By-and-by the eldest brother of the Lioness came home again, with a
fine fat deer which he had killed. “Here, sister,” he
called out, “have a bit!”</p>
<p>She put on a very gloomy air. “No,” she said, “I
think I shall have to die.”</p>
<p>“Why, what on earth is the matter?” asked he.</p>
<p>“A nasty, dirty Jackal came, and wanted to marry
me!”</p>
<p>“The brute!” said her brother. “Where is
he?”</p>
<p>“Can’t you see him, lying up in the sky?” You know
the crystal was transparent, and as she had never been there she could
not tell he was really in a cave.</p>
<p>Off galloped the young Lion, furious with rage, and when he got near
the place where the Jackal was lying in his Crystal Cave, he leaped at
him, when—crack! went his skull against the wall of crystal, and
down fell the Lion—dead!</p>
<p>Just as the Lioness was getting anxious about her eldest brother,
the second came in. She told him the same tale, though she was
beginning to be sorry that she was going to die. He had not hurt her,
after all; and how nice the meat smelt! But the second Lion did not
give her much time to think; he growled, and off he went, leaped into
the air, cracked his crown against the wall of crystal, and fell down
dead beside his brother.</p>
<p>Now when the third brother came in, the Lioness was quite sure she
didn’t mean to die. However, she looked as gloomy as ever, and
told her brother what had happened; he had better go out and see what
was become of the other two. Surely two Lions were a match for any
Jackal! Still, there he was, as before, up in the air. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb100" href="#pb100" name="pb100">100</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“Up in the air?” said the youngest brother, who was
cleverer than all the rest put together. “Stuff and nonsense! Now
let me think. There must be something for him to lie upon; and yet you
can see through it.” He scratched his head with one paw and
looked wise. “I have it! Crystal, of course, or
glass—that’s what it is!” So up he jumped, and when
he got near the Crystal Cave, there were his two brothers, dead, with
their skulls cracked right across like a teacup.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1619width"><ANTIMG src="images/p100.gif" alt="Lioness sitting next to flowers." width-obs="274" height-obs="306"></div>
<p>He sat down again, and scratched his head with the other paw.
“H’m! it looks as though it may be difficult to get at this
Jackal. However, I’ll try kindness first. Jackie, Jackie
dear!” he called out. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb101" href="#pb101" name="pb101">101</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>Now you must know that Lions have a very loud voice, and, if you
have heard them talking in the Zoo, you will know that even when they
want to coax and purr they are enough to frighten you. And so the poor
Jackal, who, after all, was not so bad as the proud Lioness made out,
when he heard the Lion coaxing him down, thought “What an awful
roar!” His heart was beating very hard before, but this time it
gave such a leap that something went snap! And the Jackal was dead
too.</p>
<p>Then the Lion looked up, and saw that the Jackal was dead. So he
buried his brothers, and went and told his sister all about it. You
might expect her to be sorry that her two brave brothers were dead, all
because she held her nose so high in the air; but not a bit of it; she
was quite satisfied so long as one was left to catch food for her. So
she lived all the rest of her life in the Golden Cave, but I never
heard that any other animal asked her to marry him. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb102" href="#pb102" name="pb102">102</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch25" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<div class="figure"><ANTIMG src="images/p102.gif" alt="The Lion and the Boar" width-obs="410" height-obs="160"></div>
<h2 class="main">The Lion and the Boar</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there was a Lion who lived in the
mountains, and he used to drink water out of a beautiful lake. It so
happened that, as he was drinking there one day, he saw a Boar feeding
over on the opposite bank. Now he had just eaten a leg of elephant, and
was not hungry; but he made a note of that Boar, thinking to himself
what a nice meal the Boar would make some other day. So, after drinking
his fill, he crawled quietly away through the bushes, hoping that the
Boar could not see him. But the Boar had sharp eyes, and did see him.
“Hullo!” said he to himself, “yon Lion is afraid of
me, that’s clear! Ah well, he need not think to get off so easy.
If he wants to go, he must fight me first!” He puffed his chest
out very big, and rubbed his tusks against a tree, then he called
out:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Stay, stay, runaway!</p>
<p class="line">Let us have a fight to-day!</p>
<p class="line">You have four feet, so have I!</p>
<p class="line">If you fail, you can but try!”</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb103" href="#pb103" name=
"pb103">103</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>The Lion could hardly believe his ears. What! a Boar challenge him
to fight! He could break a Boar’s back with a tap of his paw.
Still, he hid his astonishment at this impertinent Boar and only
said:</p>
<p>“Please, Mr. Boar, let me off to-day, as I’m rather
tired; I have just been wrestling with a fox. But, if you like, I will
meet you here this day week, and then we can fight it out between
us.”</p>
<p>He said this so humbly that the Boar became haughtier than ever.
“Oh, very well,” said he, “it shall never be said I
took a mean advantage of any one. This day week, then! Good-day to
you.”</p>
<p>When he got home, his friends hardly knew him. Every bristle on his
back was standing up straight; his little greedy eyes were gleaming; he
ran into the house, knocking over the pots and pans, snarling at his
wife, and making himself very disagreeable indeed. At last the other
Boars protested, and said they would not stand it any longer.
“Oho!” says he, “you defy a Boar that has killed a
Lion! Come on, then!” and very fierce indeed he looked.</p>
<p>Killed a Lion! They did open their eyes. “Where is the Lion
you have killed?” asked a pretty little sow, full of
curiosity.</p>
<p>“Well, I haven’t exactly killed him yet,” said the
Boar rather unwillingly. “He is coming to be killed this day
week.”</p>
<p>“What on earth do you mean?” his friends asked. He told
them the story, but he did not feel quite so bold now as he had felt
before. And when he finished, he felt worse than ever; for one and all
they set up such a <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb104" href="#pb104"
name="pb104">104</SPAN>]</span>weeping and wailing that the whole forest
resounded with it! “Oh dear, oh dear!” they cried,
“you’ll be the death of us! Kill a Lion? Why, he will
crunch you up in a trice, and then he’ll come here, and we are
all dead Boars!”</p>
<p>By this time the poor Boar had lost all his conceit; you see he was
an ignorant Boar, and did not know at all what the strength of a Lion
is. So his heart was down in his toes, and all he wanted now was some
way out of the mischief. Nobody could think of a way, until one very
old and wise Boar advised him to roll in the mud till he was very
dirty, because Lions are clean beasts and do not like dirt.</p>
<p>So every day he rolled and wallowed in the dirtiest places he could
find; and by the appointed time he was like a big cake of dirt. So when
he came to the lake where he was to meet the Lion, the wind took a
whiff of him to the Lion, and the Lion gave a jump, and snuffed, and
sneezed, and swished his tail, and cried out, “Get to leeward,
get to leeward! Here’s a pretty trick! Well, you have saved your
life; I would not touch you with a pair of tongs now!” and, in
great disgust he went away, saying, as he went, this little rhyme:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Dirty Boar, I want no more,</p>
<p class="line xd20e1670">You’re saved from being eaten;</p>
<p class="line">If you would fight, I yield me quite,</p>
<p class="line xd20e1670">And own that I am beaten!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">You may be sure that our friend the Boar did not wait
any longer, but scampered off home. But when he got there, I am sorry
to say he told all his friends he had <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb105" href="#pb105" name="pb105">105</SPAN>]</span>beaten the Lion, and
the Lion had run away! He certainly had beaten the Lion in one way, but
not in fair fight, so it was rather mean to pretend he had. However,
nobody believed him, and the colony of Boars thought the best thing
they could do was to get away from that place as fast as their four
legs could carry them. “If he is beaten,” said they with a
wink, “still, after all, he is a Lion.” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb106" href="#pb106" name="pb106">106</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch26" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The Goblin City</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Long, long ago, in the island of Ceylon, there was a
large city full of nothing but Goblins. They were all She-goblins, too;
and if they wanted husbands, they used to get hold of travellers and
force them to marry; and afterwards, when they were tired of their
husbands, they gobbled them up.</p>
<p>One day a ship was wrecked upon the coast near the goblin city, and
five hundred sailors were cast ashore. The She-goblins came down to the
seashore, and brought food and dry clothes for the sailors, and invited
them to come into the city. There was nobody else there at all; but for
fear that the sailors should be frightened away, the Goblins, by their
magic power, made shapes of people appear all around, so that there
seemed to be men ploughing in the fields, or shepherds tending their
sheep, and huntsmen with hounds, and all the sights of the quiet
country life. So, when the sailors looked round, and saw everything as
usual, they felt quite secure; although, as you know, it was all a
sham.</p>
<p>The end of it was, that they persuaded the sailors to <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb107" href="#pb107" name=
"pb107">107</SPAN>]</span>marry them, telling them that their own husbands
had gone to sea in a ship, and had been gone these three years, so that
they must be drowned and lost for ever. But really, as you know, they
had served others in just the same way, and their last batch of
husbands were then in prison, waiting to be eaten.</p>
<p>In the middle of the night, when the men were all asleep, the
She-goblins rose up, put on their hats, and hurried down to the prison;
there they killed a few men, and gnawed their flesh, and ate them up;
and after this orgie they went home again. It so happened that the
captain of the sailors woke up before his wife came home, and not
seeing her there, he watched. By-and-by in she came; he pretended to be
asleep, and looked out of the tail of his eye. She was still munching
and crunching, and as she munched she muttered:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Man’s meat, man’s meat,</p>
<p class="line">That’s what Goblins like to eat!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">She said it over and over again, then lay down; and
soon she was snoring loudly.</p>
<p>The captain was horribly frightened to find he had married a Goblin.
What was he to do? They could not fight with Goblins, and they were in
the Goblins’ power. If they had a ship they might have sailed
away, because Goblins hate the water worse than a cat; but their ship
was gone. He could think of nothing.</p>
<p>However, next morning, he found a chance of telling his mates what
he had discovered. Some of them believed him, and some said he must
have been dreaming; they were sure their wives would not do such a
thing. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb108" href="#pb108" name=
"pb108">108</SPAN>]</span>Those who believed him agreed that they would
look out for a chance of escape.</p>
<p>But there was a kind fairy who hated those Goblins; and she
determined to save the men. So she told her flying horse to go and
carry them away. And accordingly, as the men were out for a walk next
day, the captain saw in the air a beautiful horse with large white and
gold wings. The horse fluttered down, and hovered just above them,
crying out, in a human voice:</p>
<p>“Who wants to go home? who wants to go home? who wants to go
home?”</p>
<p>“I do, I do!” called out the sailors.</p>
<p>“Climb up, then!” said the horse, dropping within reach.
So one climbed up, and then another, and another; and, although the
horse looked no bigger than any other horse, there was room for
everybody on his back. I think that somehow, when they got up, the
fairy made them shrink small, till they were no bigger than so many
ants, and thus there was plenty of room for all. When all who wanted to
go had got up on his back, away flew the beautiful horse and took them
safely home.</p>
<p>As for those who remained behind, that very night the Goblins set
upon them and mangled them, and munched them to mincemeat. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb109" href="#pb109" name="pb109">109</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1720width"><ANTIMG src="images/p109.jpg" alt="Four sailors on flying horse." width-obs="469" height-obs="672"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb111" href="#pb111" name=
"pb111">111</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch27" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">Lacknose</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">There was once a Gardener who had no nose, and he had
a very nice garden full of beautiful flowers: roses, and pinks, and
lilies, and violets, and all the prettiest flowers you can imagine.</p>
<p>Three little boys thought they would like a bunch of flowers, but
they did not know how to get it. So one of them went into the garden
and said:</p>
<p>“Good morning, Mr. Lacknose!”</p>
<p>“Good morning, boy,” said the Gardener.</p>
<p>The boy thought the best thing he could do was to flatter the old
fellow, so he had made up a verse of poetry that he thought very
pretty, and so he said to the Gardener:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Cut, and cut, and cut again,</p>
<p class="line">Hair and whiskers grow amain:</p>
<p class="line">And your nose will grow like these:</p>
<p class="line">Give me a little posy, please!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The Gardener knew very well that his nose would not
grow again like his whiskers, and he thought the little boy rather rude
to mention it; so he became angry. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb112"
href="#pb112" name="pb112">112</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“Go away!” said he, “and get your posy somewhere
else!”</p>
<p>The boy went away disappointed; but the second boy thought he would
try his luck too. Perhaps the first boy had not spoken nicely; and he
had made a verse of poetry too, which he thought would just suit the
old Gardener. So in he came with “Good morning, Mr.
Lacknose!”</p>
<p>“Good morning, boy,” said the old man. “And what
do <i>you</i> want?”</p>
<p>Then the boy put on a coaxing smile, and said:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“In the autumn seeds are sown,</p>
<p class="line">And ere long they’re fully grown;</p>
<p class="line">May your nose sprout up like these!</p>
<p class="line">Give me a little posy, please!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">“There!” he thought, “the old fellow
will like that, because he is a Gardener.” But not a bit of it!
The Gardener saw through his trick, and was angrier than ever.</p>
<p>“Be off!” said he, “or I’ll be after you
with a stick! Plant a nose, indeed! You had better go somewhere and
learn manners before you ask for my flowers!”</p>
<p>So the second boy went away faster than the first.</p>
<p>But the third boy was an honest little boy, and knew that there is
nothing like the truth; so he determined to try what truth could do. He
walked modestly into the garden and said:</p>
<p>“Good morning, sir!”</p>
<p>“What, another of ’em!” growled the Gardener to
himself. “Another pack of lies, I suppose!” He would
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb113" href="#pb113" name=
"pb113">113</SPAN>]</span>hardly look at the boy. But the boy, nothing
daunted, repeated his verse:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Babbling fools! to think that they</p>
<p class="line">Can get a posy in this way!</p>
<p class="line">Say they yes, or say they no,</p>
<p class="line">Noses cut no more will grow.</p>
<p class="line">See, I ask you honestly:</p>
<p class="line">Give a posy, sir, to me!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">The Gardener was so pleased to find a straightforward
and honest little boy, that he took his scissors and cut a most
beautiful bunch of flowers, which he gave the boy with a smile. The boy
said, “Thank you, sir, very much!” and went away
delighted.</p>
<div class="figure xd20e1801width"><ANTIMG src="images/p113.gif" alt="Boy watering pot from which nose is growing." width-obs="209" height-obs=
"294"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb114" href="#pb114" name=
"pb114">114</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="ch28" class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divHead">
<h2 class="main">The King’s Lesson</h2></div>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first">Once upon a time there lived a very good King, whose
name was Godfrey. Of course, when a man is King, everybody is ready to
call him good; but this King really was good. He used to hold courts of
justice for people to come to when they had a quarrel; and he decided
all the cases so wisely that nobody durst bring an unjust cause before
him. So after a while the result was, that the courts became empty; all
the rustle and bustle was quiet, the wigs and gowns were hung up on
pegs, and as dusty as dusty could be; and nobody had any quarrels at
all.</p>
<p>“What a blessing!” thought King Godfrey to himself.
“Now we have a little peace. And they say it’s all my
doing! I wonder if I am really as good as people make me out. Suppose I
try to see?” No sooner said than done with this King. He asked
one and he asked another; he begged and prayed them to tell him of his
faults, so that he might mend them; but no, they said they really could
not tell him of his faults, when he had none to tell of. He tried in
the palace, he tried in the city; high and low, to and fro, it was just
the same: all praise and no blame. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb115"
href="#pb115" name="pb115">115</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1815width"><ANTIMG src="images/p115.jpg" alt="The King’s Lesson." width-obs="720" height-obs="494">
<p class="figureHead">The King’s Lesson.</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb117" href="#pb117" name=
"pb117">117</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“Well, upon my word,” thought the King, “I had no
idea I was such a good fellow. Still, who knows what they say behind my
back? Happy thought! I’ll disguise myself, and that will soon
show me the truth.” So he dressed himself like a traveller, and
got a carriage and pair, and drove all over the country, asking
everybody what they thought of the King. Wonder of wonders! they said
the same behind his back as they did to his face! That must have been a
very nice country to live in, but I am sure I cannot tell where it
is.</p>
<p>Now in such a strange country as that, strange things will happen;
and so it turned out that, as our King was driving along, he came to a
narrow lane sunk between two steep banks, with only just room for the
carriage; and right in the middle of this lane another carriage met
him. There they stood, both of them, and neither would budge. Our King
did not know who was in that carriage, but I will tell you who it was.
This was the King of the next country, who was also a good king as
kings go, though not so good as the first; and he had got the same idea
into his head, that he would wander about in disguise, and find out
what people thought of him. Everybody had a good word for him too, it
seems; but if he found no one to pick faults in him before, here was
one now, as you shall see.</p>
<p>“Get out of the way!” said the driver of the other
carriage.</p>
<p>“Get out of the way yourself!” said King Godfrey’s
man. “I have a King inside,” said he; you see, he knew who
the disguised traveller was, and he thought there was no need to hide
it now, when it might save him trouble. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb118" href="#pb118" name="pb118">118</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p>“If you have one King, I have another!” said the other
man; and imagine how astonished King Godfrey’s coachman was to
hear that.</p>
<p>“Oh dear, oh dear,” he said, “what is to be done?
Both Kings! How old is your King?” he added suddenly, hoping, you
see, that the younger might be willing to give way.</p>
<p>“Fifty.”</p>
<p>“Fifty! So is mine! And how rich is he? ”</p>
<p>But it turned out they were just the same in that point; and though
he cudgelled his brains to find out some difference, there seemed to be
none; their kingdoms were exactly the same size, with exactly the same
number of people in them, and their ancestors had been just as brave
and glorious in peace or war. In fact, they were as like as two peas in
a pod.</p>
<p>All this time the horses were champing their bits and pawing the
ground, as if they would like to jump over each other’s heads;
and I daresay the Kings were getting impatient too, though they were
much too dignified to say anything. And there they might have stayed
till doomsday, but that King Godfrey’s coachman hit on a fine
idea. He suggested that perhaps one of them was a better King than the
other; what were his master’s virtues, would the other coachman
kindly tell him?</p>
<p>The other coachman had his answer all ready, in poetry too, and this
it was:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“Rough to the rough, my mighty King the mild with
mildness sways,</p>
<p class="line">Masters the good by goodness, and the bad with badness
pays:</p>
<p class="line">Give place, give place, O driver! such are this
monarch’s ways!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">“H’m,” said King Godfrey’s
driver, “tit for tat is all <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb119"
href="#pb119" name="pb119">119</SPAN>]</span>very well, but I
shouldn’t call it <i>virtue</i> to pay out a bad man in his own
coin.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well,” says the other in a huff, “you can
call it <i>vice</i> if you like; and I should be very glad to hear all
your King’s <i>virtues</i>, if you laugh at mine!”</p>
<p>“Certainly,” said King Godfrey’s coachman; and,
not to be beaten, he did his answer into poetry, like the other:</p>
<div class="lgouter">
<p class="line">“He conquers wrath by mildness, the bad with
goodness sways,</p>
<p class="line">By gifts the miser vanquishes and lies with truth
repays.</p>
<p class="line">Give place, give place, O driver! such are this
monarch’s ways!”</p>
</div>
<p class="first">Then the other man felt he had met his match. “I
can’t cap that,” said he; “your master is better than
mine.” And the new King, who had not said a word all this time,
thought it was time to be moving; perhaps he had been asleep; anyhow,
he was not at all angry with his coachman, but out he got, and they let
the horses loose, and pulled the carriage up on the slope to let King
Godfrey pass by. But King Godfrey, before he went on, gave the other
King a little good advice, which the King promised to take; for in that
strange country people used to follow good advice sometimes. And then
they said “Good-bye,” and both went back home again, and
both of them ruled their countries well until they died. The other
King, we may be sure, was all the better for that lesson; and I hope
Godfrey did not become conceited in that strange country, as he would
have been if he lived here with us. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb120" href="#pb120" name="pb120">120</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1879width"><ANTIMG src="images/p120.gif" alt="Boy carrying large book." width-obs="190" height-obs="319"></div>
<p class="trailer xd20e1884">FINIS</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb121" href="#pb121" name=
"pb121">121</SPAN>]</span></p>
</div>
</div></div>
<div class="back">
<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN href="#toc">Contents</SPAN>]</span>
<div class="divBody">
<p class="first"><i><span class="xd20e1891">MR. DAVID NUTT’S LIST
OF</span> GIFT-BOOKS FOR CHILDREN OF ALL AGES, for the most part fully
illustrated by leading artists in black and white, sumptuously printed
on specially made paper, bound in attractive and original covers, and
sold at the lowest price consistent with equitable remuneration to
authors and artists, and beauty and durability of get up.</i></p>
<div class="figure xd20e1896width"><ANTIMG src="images/p121.gif" alt="Indian woman telling story to European child." width-obs="328" height-obs=
"328"></div>
<p class="xd20e105"><b>CONTENTS.</b></p>
<p class="xd20e105">FAIRY TALES OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE.<br/>
WORKS BY HIS HONOUR JUDGE E. A. PARRY.<br/>
WORKS BY MRS. RADFORD.<br/>
WORKS ILLUSTRATED BY MISS WINIFRED SMITH.<br/>
WORKS BY MRS. LEIGHTON, ASBJÖRNSEN, ETC.</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first xd20e1915">All works in the present list may be had
post free from the Publisher at the annexed prices, and are kept on
sale by the leading booksellers of the United Kingdom.</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb122" href="#pb122" name=
"pb122">122</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e1921"><b>“The Ideal Gift-Books of the
Season.”</b></p>
<p class="xd20e1925">FAIRY TALES OF THE</p>
<p class="xd20e1927">BRITISH EMPIRE.</p>
<p class="xd20e1929">Collected and Edited by JOSEPH JACOBS.</p>
<p class="xd20e1929">Illustrated by J. D. BATTEN.</p>
<p class="dropcap">Mr. <span class="sc">Jacobs’ Fairy
Tales,</span> which have been appearing since 1890, have won immediate
and widespread acceptance. The choice of matter, the simplicity and
suitable character of the language of the text, the beauty, humour, and
charm of Mr. <span class="sc">Batten</span>’s illustrations, and
the large and legible type, have commended the series alike to children
and to lovers of art; whilst the prefaces and elaborate notes,
parallels, and references added by the Editor, have made them
indispensable to the increasingly large portion of the public
interested in the history and archæology of popular fiction.</p>
<p>“Fairy Tales of the British Empire” are to be had in two
forms, at 3s. 6d. and at 6s. a volume.</p>
<p>In so far as Tales and Illustrations are concerned, the 3s. 6d.
Edition will be the same as the original 6s. one. But the
Editor’s Prefaces, Notes, Parallels, and References are
omitted.</p>
<p>A full list of the Series, a specimen of Mr. <span class="sc">Batten</span>’s beautiful Illustrations, and a very small
selection from the numberless kindly notices which the Press has
bestowed upon the Series, will be found on the following pages.
<span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb123" href="#pb123" name=
"pb123">123</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"></p>
<p><b>English Fairy Tales.</b> <i>Complete</i> Edition, xvi., 255
pages, 9 full-page Plates, and numerous Illustrations in the text.
Designed Cloth Cover, Uncut or Gilt Edges. <b>6s.</b></p>
<p>The same. <i>Children’s</i> Edition, viii., 227 pages, 7
full-page Plates, and numerous Illustrations in text. Cloth, Cut.
<b>3s. 6d.</b></p>
<p><b>More English Fairy Tales.</b> <i>Complete</i> Edition, xvi., 243
pages, 8 full-page, and numerous Illustrations in text. Designed Cloth
Cover, Uncut or Gilt Edges. <b>6s.</b></p>
<p>The same. <i>Children’s</i> Edition, viii., 214 pages, 7
full-page Plates, and numerous Illustrations in text. Cloth, Cut.
<b>3s. 6d.</b></p>
<p><b>Celtic Fairy Tales.</b> <i>Complete</i> Edition, xvi., 274 pages,
8 full-page Plates, numerous Illustrations in text. Designed Cloth
Cover, Uncut or Gilt Edges. <b>6s.</b></p>
<p>The same. <i>Children’s</i> Edition, viii., 236 pages, 7
full-page Plates and numerous Illustrations in text. Cloth, Cut. 3s.
6d.</p>
<p><b>More Celtic Fairy Tales.</b> <i>Complete</i> Edition, xvi., 234
pages, 8 full-page Plates, numerous Illustrations in text. Designed
Cloth Cover, Uncut or Gilt Edges. <b>6s.</b></p>
<p>The same. <i>Children’s</i> Edition, viii., 217 pages, 7
full-page Plates, and numerous Illustrations in text. Cloth, Cut.
<b>3s. 6d.</b></p>
<p><b>Indian Fairy Tales.</b> <i>Complete</i> Edition, xvi., 255 pages,
9 full-page Plates, and numerous Illustrations in text. Designed Cloth
Cover, Uncut or Gilt Edges. <b>6s.</b></p>
</div>
<p class="xd20e105"><i>No Children’s Edition of the “Indian
Fairy Tales” will be issued for the present.</i></p>
<p class="xd20e1915"><i>N.B.</i>—A few copies of the Japanese
Vellum Issues, printed in large 8vo, with double state of the plates,
are still to be had of Indian, More Celtic, and More English Fairy
Tales. Prices may be learnt on application to the Publisher. The
special issues of English and Celtic Fairy Tales, entirely out of
print, command a heavy premium. <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb124"
href="#pb124" name="pb124">124</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e2045width"><ANTIMG src="images/p124.jpg" alt="Specimen of Mr. Batten’s full-page Illustrations to “Fairy Tales of the British Empire.”"
width="489" height="720">
<p class="figureHead">Specimen of Mr. Batten’s full-page
Illustrations to “Fairy Tales of the British Empire.”</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb125" href="#pb125" name=
"pb125">125</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Some Press Notices</p>
<p class="xd20e2053">OF</p>
<p class="xd20e1925">JACOBS’ AND BATTEN’S FAIRY TALES.</p>
<p class="xd20e2057"><i>English Fairy Tales.</i></p>
<p><i>Daily Graphic.</i>—“As a collection of fairy tales to
delight children of all ages, ranks second to none.”
<i>Globe.</i>—“A delight alike to the young people and
their elders.” <i>England.</i>—“A most delightful
volume of fairy tales.” <i>Daily News.</i>—“A more
desirable child’s book ... has not been seen for many a
day.” <i>Athenæum.</i>—“From first to last,
almost without exception, these stories are delightful.”
<span class="sc">E. S. Hartland.</span>—“The most
delightful book of fairy tales, taking form and contents together, ever
presented to children.” <span class="sc">Miss
Thackeray.</span>—“This delightful book.” <i>Review
of Reviews.</i>—“Nothing could be more
fascinating.”</p>
<p class="xd20e2057"><i>Celtic Fairy Tales.</i></p>
<p><i>Scotsman.</i>—“One of the best books of stories ever
put together.” <i>Freeman’s Journal.</i>—“An
admirable selection.” <i>Ariel.</i>—“Delightful
stories, exquisite illustrations by John D. Batten, and learned
notes.” <i>Daily Telegraph.</i>—“A stock of
delightful little narratives.” <i>Daily
Chronicle.</i>—“A charming volume skilfully
illustrated.” <i>Pall Mall Budget.</i>—“A perfectly
lovely book. And oh! the wonderful pictures inside.” <i>Liverpool
Daily Post.</i>—“The best fairy book of the present
season.” <i>Oban Times.</i>—“Many a mother will bless
Mr. Jacobs, and many a door will be open to him from Land’s End
to John o’ Groat’s.”</p>
<p class="xd20e2057"><i>More English Fairy Tales.</i></p>
<p><i>Athenæum.</i>—“Will become more popular with
children than its predecessor.” <i>Notes and
Queries.</i>—“Delightful and in every respect worthy of its
predecessor.” <i>Glasgow Herald.</i>—“A more
delightful collection of fairy tales could hardly be wished for.”
<i>Glasgow Evening News.</i>—“The new volume of
‘English Fairy Tales’ is worthy of the one that went
before, and this is really saying a great deal.”</p>
<p class="xd20e2057"><i>More Celtic Fairy Tales.</i></p>
<p><i>Daily Chronicle.</i>—“A bright exemplar of almost all
a fairy-tale book should be.” <i>Saturday
Review.</i>—“Delightful for reading and profitable for
comparison.” <i>Notes and Queries.</i>—“A delightful
companion into a land of enchantment.” <i>Irish Daily
Independent.</i>—“Full of bold and beautiful
illustrations.” <i>North British Daily Mail.</i>—“The
stories are admirable, and nothing could be better in their way than
the designs.” <i>News of the World.</i>—“Mr. Batten
has a real genius for depicting fairy folk.”</p>
<p class="xd20e2057"><i>Indian Fairy Tales.</i></p>
<p><i>Dublin Daily Express.</i>—“Unique and charming
anthology.” <i>Daily News.</i>—“Good for the
schoolroom and the study.” <i>Star.</i>—“Illustrated
with a charming freshness of fancy.” <i>Gloucester
Journal.</i>—“A book which is something more than a
valuable addition to folk-lore; a book for the student as well as for
the child.” <i>Scotsman.</i>—“Likely to prove a
perfect success.” <i>Literary World.</i>—“Admirably
grouped, and very enjoyable.” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name=
"pb126" href="#pb126" name="pb126">126</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e1925">WORKS BY HIS HONOUR</p>
<p class="xd20e2186">JUDGE EDWARD ABBOTT PARRY.</p>
<p class="xd20e1929">Illustrated by ARCHIE MACGREGOR.</p>
<p class="dropcap">The issue of <i>Katawampus: its Treatment and
Cure</i>, in the Christmas Season of 1895, revealed a writer for
children who, in originality, spontaneity, and fulness of humour as
well as in sympathy with and knowledge of childhood, may be compared,
and not to his disadvantage, with Lewis Carroll. And, as is the case
with “Alice in Wonderland,” an illustrator was found whose
sympathy with his author and capacity for rendering his conceptions
have won immediate and widespread recognition<span class="corr" id="xd20e2195" title="Source: ,">.</span> A specimen of the illustrations
and a small selection from the press notices will be found
overleaf.</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><b><i>KATAWAMPUS</i></b>: its Treatment and Cure.
Second Edition. 96 pages, Cloth. <b><i>3s.</i></b>
<b><i>6d.</i></b></p>
<p><b><i>BUTTER-SCOTIA</i></b>, or, a Cheap Trip to Fairy Land. 180
pages. Map of Butter-Scotia, many Full-page Plates and Illustrations in
the Text. Bound in specially designed Cloth Cover.
<b><i>6s.</i></b></p>
<p><b><i>KATAWAMPUS KANTICLES.</i></b> Music by Sir J. F. Bridge, Mus.
Doc., Organist of Westminster Abbey. Words by His Honour Judge
<span class="sc">E. A. Parry</span>. Illustrated Cover, representing
Kapellmeister Krab, by <span class="sc">Archie Macgregor</span>. Royal
8vo, <b><i>1s.</i></b></p>
</div>
<p class="xd20e105"><b>For Christmas 1897.</b></p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><b><i>THE FIRST BOOK OF KRAB.</i></b> Christmas
Stories for Children of all Ages. 132 pages, with many Full-page Plates
and Illustrations in the Text. Bound in specially designed Cloth Cover.
<b><i>3s. 6d.</i></b></p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb127" href="#pb127" name=
"pb127">127</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e105"><span class="xd20e2254">KATAWAMPUS:</span>
<span class="sc">Its Treatment and Cure</span>.<br/>
By His Honour Judge E. A. PARRY.<br/>
<i>Illustrated by ARCHIE MACGREGOR.</i><br/>
<span class="xd20e2269">Second Edition, Cloth, 3s. 6d.</span></p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Press Notices.</p>
<p>“One of the very best books of the season.”—<i>The
World.</i></p>
<p>“A very delightful and original book.”—<i>Review
of Reviews.</i></p>
<p>“The book is one of rare drollery, and the verses and pictures
are capital of their kind.”—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p>
<p>“We strongly advise both parents and children to read the
book.”—<i>Guardian.</i></p>
<p>“A truly delightful little book....”—<i>Pall Mall
Gazette.</i></p>
<p>“A tale full of jinks and merriment.”—<i>Daily
Chronicle.</i></p>
<p>“The brightest, wittiest, and most logical fairy-tale we have
read for a long time.”—<i>Westminster Gazette.</i></p>
<p>“Its fun is of the sort that children revel in and
‘grown-ups’ also relish, so spontaneous and irresistible is
it.” <i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p>
<p>“A delightful extravaganza of the ‘Wonderland’
type, but by no means a slavish imitation.”—<i>Glasgow
Herald.</i></p>
<p>“Since ‘Alice in Wonderland’ there has not been a
book more calculated to become a favourite in the
nursery.”—<i>Baby.</i></p>
<div class="figure xd20e2325width"><ANTIMG src="images/p127.gif" alt="Got him this time" width-obs="385" height-obs="337">
<p class="figureHead">Got him this time</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb128" href="#pb128" name=
"pb128">128</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e1925">THE BOOK OF WONDER VOYAGES.</p>
<p class="xd20e105">Edited with Introduction and Notes by JOSEPH
JACOBS.</p>
<p class="xd20e105"><i>Illustrated by J. D. BATTEN.</i></p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first">Square demy 8vo, sumptuously printed in large clear
type on specially manufactured paper, at the Ballantyne Press. With
Photogravure Frontispiece, and many Full-page Illustrations and Designs
in the Text. Specially designed Cloth Cover, 6s.</p>
</div>
<p><i>Contents.</i>—The Argonauts—The Voyage of
Maelduin—The Journeyings of Hasan of Bassorah to the Islands of
Wak-Wak—How Thorkill went to the Under World and Eric the
Far-Travelled to Paradise.</p>
<p><i>This, the latest of the volumes in which Mr. Jacobs and Mr.
Batten have collaborated with such admirable results, will be welcomed
as heartily as its predecessors by the children of the English-speaking
world. A specimen of Mr. Batten’s illustration is
appended.</i></p>
<div class="figure xd20e2352width"><ANTIMG src="images/p128.gif" alt="Two girls tied next to pilars and bowl with fire." width-obs="474" height-obs=
"398"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb129" href="#pb129" name=
"pb129">129</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><i>WORKS ILLUSTRATED BY MISS WINIFRED SMITH, Silver
and Gold Medallist, South Kensington, Winner of the Princess of
Wales’ Prize, etc. etc.</i></p>
</div>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">CHILDREN’S SINGING GAMES,</span> with
the Tunes to which they are Sung. Collected and Edited by <span class="sc">Alice Bertha Gomme</span>. Pictured in Black and White by
<span class="sc">Winifred Smith</span>. Two Series, each 3s. 6d.</p>
<div class="figure floatLeft xd20e2373width"><ANTIMG src="images/p129.gif" alt="POOR PENNY JONES" width-obs="161" height-obs="569">
<p class="figureHead">POOR PENNY JONES</p>
</div>
<p>Charming albums in small oblong 4to, printed on antique paper and
bound in specially designed cloth cover, and serving equally for the
nursery, the schoolroom, and the drawing-room. Mrs. Gomme, the first
living authority on English games, has carefully chosen the finest and
most interesting of the old traditional singing games, has provided
accurate text and music, has given precise directions for playing, and
added notes pointing out the historical interests of these survivals of
old world practices. The humour, spirit, and grace of Miss Winifred
Smith’s drawings may be sufficiently gauged from the annexed
specimens and from the following press notices.</p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Some Press Notices of “Children’s
Singing Games.”</p>
<p><i>Baby.</i>—“A delightful gift for little boys and
girls.... Cannot fail to become quickly popular.”</p>
<p><i>Journal of Education.</i>—“Most charmingly
illustrated.”</p>
<p><i>Saturday Review.</i>—“A truly fascinating book.... It
is hopeless to make a choice which is best. The traditional rhymes and
music, so quaintly and prettily illustrated, with moreover so much
humour and go in all the designs, are charming.”</p>
<p><i>Scotsman.</i>—“The pictures must please anybody who
can appreciate delicate humour.”</p>
<p><i>Bookman.</i>—“The designs are witty, pretty, and
effective.”</p>
<p><i>Sylvia’s Journal.</i>—“The illustrations are
charming.” <span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb130" href="#pb130"
name="pb130">130</SPAN>]</span></p>
<div class="figure xd20e2408width"><ANTIMG src="images/p130.gif" alt="Looby Loo Continued" width-obs="398" height-obs="414">
<p class="figureHead">Looby Loo Continued</p>
</div>
<p class="xd20e2412">NURSERY SONGS AND RHYMES OF ENGLAND.</p>
<p>Pictured in Black and White by <span class="sc">Winifred
Smith</span>. Small 4to. Printed on hand-made paper. In specially
designed cloth cover, 3s. 6d.</p>
<p class="xd20e2419">Some Press Notices of “Nursery Songs and
Rhymes.”</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><i>Literary World.</i>—“Delightfully
illustrated.”</p>
<p><i>Athenæum.</i>—“Very cleverly drawn and humorous
designs.”</p>
<p><i>Manchester Guardian.</i>—“All the designs are very
apt and suited to the comprehension of a child.”</p>
<p><i>Scotsman.</i>—“The designs are full of grace and fun,
and give the book an artistic value not common in nursery
literature.”</p>
<p><i>Globe.</i>—“The drawings are distinctly amusing and
sure to delight children.”</p>
<p><i>Star.</i>—“Really a beautiful book.... Winifred Smith
has revelled into old rhymes, and young and old alike will in their
turn revel in the results of her artistic revelry.”</p>
<p><i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i>—“No book of nursery rhymes has
charmed us so much.”</p>
<p><i>Magazine of Art.</i>—“Quite a good book of its
kind.”</p>
<p><i>Woman.</i>—“Miss Smith’s drawings are now
celebrated and are indeed very beautiful, decorative, and full of
naïve humour.”</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb131" href="#pb131" name=
"pb131">131</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p class="xd20e105"><i>WORKS BY MRS. ERNEST RADFORD.</i></p>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">SONGS FOR SOMEBODY.</span> Verses by
<span class="sc">Dollie Radford</span>. Pictures by <span class="sc">Gertrude Bradley</span>. Square crown 8vo. Six plates printed in
colour by <span class="sc">Edmund Evans</span>, and 36 designs in
monochrome. Coloured cover by <span class="sc">Louis Davis</span>. 3s.
6d.</p>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">GOOD NIGHT.</span> Verses by <span class="sc">Dollie Radford</span>. Designs by <span class="sc">Louis
Davis</span>. Forty pages entirely designed by the artist and pulled on
the finest and the thickest cartridge paper. Boards and canvas back
with label, 2s. 6d.</p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Some Press Notices.</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><i>Daily Chronicle.</i>—“As far as we know
no one else sings quite like Mrs. Radford; hers is a bird’s
note—thin, high, with a sweet thrill in it, and the thrill is a
home thrill, a nest thrill.”</p>
<p><i>Commonwealth.</i>—“We have read with pure enjoyment
Mrs. Radford’s slight but charming cycle of rhymes.”</p>
<p><i>Star.</i>—“A tender spirit of motherhood inspires
Mrs. Radford’s simple little songs.”</p>
<p><i>Review of Reviews.</i>—“Very charming poems for
children not unworthy even to be mentioned in the same breath with
Stevenson’s ‘Child’s Garden of Verses.’”
<i>Athenæum.</i>—”’Good Night’ is one of
the daintiest little books we have seen for years. The verses are
graceful and pretty, and the illustrations excellent. It will please
both young and old.”</p>
<p><i>Literary World.</i>—“Charming little songs of
childhood.”</p>
<p><i>New Age.</i>—“Mrs. Radford is closely in touch with a
child’s mind, and her ideal child is a nice, soft, loving little
creature whom we all want to caress in our arms.”</p>
<p><i>Artist.</i>—“Since Blake died never has a book been
produced which can so truly be described as a labour of love to the
artist as ‘Good Night.’”</p>
</div>
<hr class="tb">
<p><span class="xd20e2254">MEDIÆVAL LEGENDS.</span> Being a
Gift-Book to the Children of England, of Five Old-World Tales from
France and Germany. Demy 8vo. Designed cloth cover, 3s. 6d.</p>
<p><i>Contents.</i>—The Mysterious History of Melusina—The
Story of Æsop—The Rhyme of the Seven Swabians—The
Sweet and Touching Tale of Fleur and Blanchefleur—The Wanderings
of Duke Ernest.</p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Some Press Notices.</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><i>Saturday Review.</i>—“A capital
selection of famous legends.”</p>
<p><i>Times.</i>—“There can be no question as to the value
of this gift.”</p>
<p><i>Morning Post.</i>—“Full of romantic incident, of
perilous adventure by land and sea.”</p>
<p><i>Guardian.</i>—“This delightful volume.... In all
respects admirable.”</p>
<p><i>World.</i>—“An elegant and tasteful
volume.”</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum">[<SPAN name="pb132" href="#pb132" name=
"pb132">132</SPAN>]</span></p>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">THE HAPPY PRINCE,</span> and other Tales. By
<span class="sc">Oscar Wilde</span>. 116 pages, small 4to. Beautifully
printed in old-faced type, on cream-laid paper, with wide margins.
Bound in Japanese vellum cover, printed in red and black. With three
full-page Plates by <span class="sc">Walter Crane</span>, and eleven
Vignettes by <span class="sc">Jacomb Hood</span>. Second Edition. 3s.
6d.</p>
<p class="xd20e2051">Some Press Notices.</p>
<div class="blockquote">
<p class="first"><i>Christian Leader.</i>—“Beautiful
exceedingly; charmingly devised—exquisitely told.”</p>
<p><i>Universal Review.</i>—“Heartily
recommended.”</p>
<p><i>Athenæum.</i>—“Mr. Wilde possesses the gift of
writing fairy tales in a rare degree.”</p>
<p><i>Dublin Evening Mail.</i>—“A beautiful book in every
sense.”</p>
<p><i>Glasgow Herald.</i>—“It is difficult to speak too
highly of these tales.”</p>
</div>
<p class="xd20e2600">For Christmas 1897.</p>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">FAIRY TALES FROM THE FAR NORTH.</span> By
<span class="sc">P. C. Asbjörnsen</span>. Translated by
<span class="sc">H. L. Brækstad</span>. With 94 Illustrations by
<span class="sc">E. Werenskiold</span>, <span class="sc">T.
Kittelsen</span>, and <span class="sc">H. Sinding</span>. Small 4to
(“Wonder Voyages” size), beautifully printed at the
Ballantyne Press on specially manufactured paper. Cloth, designed
Cover. <i><b>6s.</b></i></p>
<p>⁂ <i>The raciest and quaintest of stories, the most spirited
and humorous of illustrations.</i></p>
<p><span class="xd20e2254">THE GIANT CRAB,</span> and other Tales from
Old India. Retold by <span class="sc">W. H. D. Rouse</span>. Profusely
Illustrated by <span class="sc">W. Robinson</span>. Square crown 8vo,
beautifully printed at the Ballantyne Press on special paper. Designed
cloth cover. <i><b>3s. 6d.</b></i></p>
<p>⁂ <i>Adaptation for English children of Tales from the Oldest
Story Book in the world, the Jatakas, or Birth-stories of
Buddha.</i></p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="transcribernote">
<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2>
<h3 class="main">Availability</h3>
<p class="first">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no
cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give
it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this eBook or online at <SPAN class="exlink" title=
"External link" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</SPAN>.</p>
<p>This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at <SPAN class="exlink" title="External link" href="http://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</SPAN>.</p>
<p>Prepared from scans available at the Internet Archive. <SPAN class="exlink" title="External link" href="http://www.archive.org/details/giantcrabotherta00jataiala">1</SPAN>
(first edition, 1897), <SPAN class="exlink" title="External link" href="http://www.archive.org/details/giantcrabandoth00rousgoog">2</SPAN>
(second edition, enlarged, 1900).</p>
<p>Related Open Library catalog page: <SPAN class="catlink" href="http://openlibrary.org/b/OL7138028M">OL7138028M</SPAN>.</p>
<h3 class="main">Encoding</h3>
<p class="first"></p>
<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3>
<ul>
<li>2011-04-24 Started.</li>
</ul>
<h3 class="main">External References</h3>
<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These
links may not work for you.</p>
<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3>
<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p>
<table width="75%" summary=
"Overview of corrections applied to the text.">
<tr>
<th>Page</th>
<th>Source</th>
<th>Correction</th>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20" valign="top"><SPAN class="pageref" href="#xd20e721">29</SPAN></td>
<td class="width40" valign="bottom">by-and-bye</td>
<td class="width40" valign="bottom">by-and-by</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="width20" valign="top"><SPAN class="pageref" href="#xd20e1391">80</SPAN>, <SPAN class="pageref" href="#xd20e2195">126</SPAN></td>
<td class="width40" valign="bottom">,</td>
<td class="width40" valign="bottom">.</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
</div>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />