Now Cho was left alone, a sad and angry man. Holding his long nose painfully in both hands, he slowly took his way toward his brother Kane's house. Here he related all that had happened to him from the very day when he had behaved so badly about the seed-rice and silkworms' eggs. He humbly begged his brother to pardon him, and, if possible, do something to restore his unfortunate nose to its proper size.

The kind-hearted Kane pitied him, and said: "You have been dishonest and mean, and selfish and envious, and that is why you have got this punishment. If you promise to behave better for the future, I will try what can be done."

So saying, he took the Mallet and rubbed Cho's nose with it gently, and the nose gradually became shorter and shorter until at last it came back to its proper shape and size. But ever after, if at any time Cho felt inclined to be selfish and dishonest, as he did now and then, his nose began to smart and burn, and he fancied he felt it beginning to grow. So great was his terror of having a long nose again that these symptoms never failed to bring him back to his good behavior.



THE SELFISH SPARROW AND THE HOUSELESS CROWS

A Sparrow once built a nice little house for herself, and lined it well with wool and protected it with sticks, so that it resisted equally the summer sun and the winter rains. A Crow who lived close by had also built a house, but it was not such a good one, being only made of a few sticks laid one above another on the top of a prickly-pear hedge. The consequence was that one day, when there was an unusually heavy shower, the Crow's nest was washed away, while the Sparrow's was not at all injured.

In this extremity the Crow and her mate went to the Sparrow, and said: "Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes." But the Sparrow answered: "I'm cooking the dinner; I cannot let you in now; come again presently."

In a little while the Crows returned and said: "Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes." The Sparrow answered: "I'm eating my dinner; I cannot let you in now; come again presently."

The Crows flew away, but in a little while returned, and cried once more: "Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes." The Sparrow replied: "I'm washing my dishes; I cannot let you in now; come again presently."

The Crows waited a while and then called out: "Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes." But the Sparrow would not let them in; she only answered: "I'm sweeping the floor; I cannot let you in now; come again presently."

Next time the Crows came and cried: "Sparrow, Sparrow, have pity on us and give us shelter, for the wind blows and the rain beats, and the prickly-pear hedge-thorns stick into our eyes." She answered: "I'm making the beds; I cannot let you in now; come again presently."

So, on one pretense or another she refused to help the poor birds. At last, when she and her children had had their dinner, and she had prepared and put away the dinner for next day, and had put all the children to bed and gone to bed herself, she cried to the Crows: "You may come in now and take shelter for the night." The Crows came in, but they were much vexed at having been kept out so long in the wind and the rain, and when the Sparrow and all her family were asleep, the one said to the other: "This selfish Sparrow had no pity on us; she gave us no dinner, and would not let us in till she and all her children were comfortably in bed; let us punish her." So the two Crows took all the nice dinner the Sparrow had prepared for herself and her children to eat the next day, and flew away with it.





THE STORY OF ZIRAC

Once upon a time a raven, a rat, and a tortoise, having agreed to be friends together, were having a pleasant chat when they saw a wild goat making its way toward them with surprising swiftness. They took it for granted by her speed that she was pursued by some hunter, and they at once without ceremony separated, every one to take care of himself. The tortoise slipped into the water, the rat crept into a hole, which he fortunately found near at hand, and the raven hid himself among the boughs of a very high tree. In the meantime the goat stopped quite suddenly, and stood to rest herself by the side of a fountain, when the raven, who had looked all round and perceived no one, called to the tortoise, who immediately peeped above the water, and seeing the goat afraid to drink, said: "Drink boldly, my friend, for the water is very clear."

After the goat had done so, the tortoise continued: "Pray tell me what is the reason you appear in such distress?"

"Reason enough," said the goat; "for I have just made my escape out of the hands of a hunter, who pursued me with an eager chase."

"Come," said the tortoise, "I am glad you are safe. I have an offer to make you. If you like our company, stay here and be one of our friends; you will find our hearts honest and our company useful to you. The sages say that a number of friends lessens trouble."

After this short speech the raven and the rat joined in the invitation, so that the goat at once promised to become one of them, each promising the other to prove himself a real and true friend whatever might happen in days to come. After this agreement these four friends lived in perfect harmony for a very long time, and spent their time pleasantly together. But one day, as the tortoise, the rat, and the raven were met, as they used to do, by the side of the fountain, the goat was missing. This gave great trouble to them, as they knew not what had happened. They very soon came to a resolution, however, to seek for and assist the goat, so the raven at once mounted into the air to see what discoveries he could make; and looking round about him, at length, to his great sorrow, saw at a distance the poor goat entangled in a hunter's net. He immediately dropped down in order to acquaint the rat and tortoise with what he had seen; and you may be sure that these ill tidings caused great grief.

"What shall we do?" said they.

"We have promised firm friendship to one another and lived very happily together so long," said the tortoise, "that it would be shameful to break the bond and not act up to all we said. We cannot leave our innocent and good-natured companion in this dire distress and great danger. No! we must find some way to deliver our poor friend goat out of captivity."

Said the raven to the rat, who was nicknamed Zirac: "Remember, O excellent Zirac, there is none but thyself able to set our friend at liberty; and the business must be quickly done for fear the huntsman should lay his hands upon her."

"Doubt not," replied Zirac, "but that I will do my best, so let us go at once that no time may be lost."

On this the raven took up Zirac in his bill and flew with him to the place where the poor goat was confined in the net. No sooner had he arrived than he at once commenced to gnaw the meshes of the net that held the goat's foot and had almost set him at liberty when the tortoise arrived.

As soon as the goat saw the tortoise she cried out with a loud voice: "Oh, why have you ventured to come hither, friend tortoise?"

"Because I could no longer bear your absence," replied the tortoise.

"Dear friend," said the goat, "your coming to this place troubles me as much as the loss of my own liberty; for if the hunter should happen to come, what would you do to make your escape? For my part I am almost free, and my being able to run will prevent me from falling into his hands again; our friend the raven can find safety in flight, and Zirac can run into any hole. Only you, who are so slow of foot, will become the hunter's prey." No sooner had the goat thus spoken, when sure enough the hunter appeared; but the goat, being free, swiftly ran away; the raven mounted into the air, and Zirac slipped into a hole, and true enough, as the goat had said, only the slow-paced tortoise remained without help.

When the hunter arrived he was a little surprised to see his net broken and the goat missing. This was no small vexation to him, and caused him to look closely around, to see if he could discover who had done the mischief; and unfortunately, in thus searching, he spied the tortoise.

"Oh! oh!" said he. "Very good; I am glad to see you here. I find I shall not go home empty-handed after all; here is a plump tortoise, and that is worth something, I'm sure." Thus saying, he took up the tortoise, put it in a sack, threw the sack over his shoulder, and was soon trudging home.

After he had gone the three friends came out from their several hiding-places, and met together, when, missing the tortoise, they at once judged what had become of him. Then, uttering bitter cries and lamentations, they shed torrents of tears. At length the raven broke the silence, and said: "Dear friends, our moans and sorrow do not help the tortoise. We must, if it be at all possible, devise some means of saving his life. Our sages have often told us that there are three persons that are never well known but on special occasions—men of courage in fight, men of honesty in business, and a true friend in extreme necessity. We find, alas! our dear companion the tortoise is in a sad condition, and therefore we must, if possible, help him."

"It is first-class advice," replied Zirac. "Now I think I know how it can be done. Let our friend the goat go and show herself to the hunter, who will then be certain to lay down the sack to run after her."

"All right," said the goat, "I will pretend to be lame, and run limping at a little distance before him, which will encourage him to follow me, and thus draw him a good way from his sack, which will give Zirac time to set our friend at liberty."

This plan appeared such a good one that it was at once approved of, and immediately the goat ran halting before the hunter, and appeared to be so feeble and faint that her pursuer thought he had her safe in his clutches again, and so, laying down his sack, ran after the goat with all his might. That cunning creature suffered him now and again almost to come up to her, and then led him another wild-goose chase till at last she had lured him out of sight; which Zirac seeing, began gnawing the string that tied the mouth of the sack, and soon set free the tortoise, who went at once and hid himself in a thick bush.



At length the hunter, tired of running after his prey, gave up the chase, and returned to take up his sack.

"Here," said he, "I have something safe; thou art not quite so swift as that plaguing goat; and if thou wert, art too well confined here to find the way to make thy little legs any use to thee." So saying, he went to the bag, but not finding the tortoise he was amazed, and thought himself in a region of hobgoblins and spirits, since he had by some mysterious means lost two valuable objects, a goat and a tortoise! He did not know, you see, what wonders true friendship can work when all are pledged to help one another.

The four friends soon met together again, congratulated one another on their escapes, made afresh their vows of friendship, and declared that they would never separate until death parted them.



MY LORD BAG OF RICE

Long, long ago there lived in Japan a brave warrior known to all as Tawara Toda, or "My Lord Bag of Rice." His true name was Fujiwara Hidesato, and there is a very interesting story of how he came to change his name.

One day he sallied forth in search of adventures, for he had the nature of a warrior and could not bear to be idle. So he buckled on his two swords, took his huge bow, much taller than himself, in his hand, and slinging his quiver on his back started out. He had not gone far when he came to the bridge of Seta-no-Karashi spanning one end of the beautiful Lake Biwa. No sooner had he set foot on the bridge than he saw lying right across his path a huge serpent-dragon. Its body was so big that it looked like the trunk of a large pine tree and it took up the whole width of the bridge. One of its huge claws rested on the parapet of one side of the bridge, while its tail lay right against the other. The monster seemed to be asleep, and as it breathed, fire and smoke came out of its nostrils.

At first Hidesato could not help feeling alarmed at the sight of this horrible reptile lying in his path, for he must either turn back or walk right over its body. He was a brave man, however, and putting aside all fear went forward dauntlessly. Crunch, crunch; he stepped now on the dragon's body, now between its coils, and without even one glance backward he went on his way.

He had only gone a few steps when he heard some one calling him from behind. On turning back he was much surprised to see that the monster dragon had entirely disappeared and in its place was a strange-looking man, who was bowing most ceremoniously to the ground. His red hair streamed over his shoulders and was surmounted by a crown in the shape of a dragon's head, and his sea-green dress was patterned with shells. Hidesato knew at once that this was no ordinary mortal and he wondered much at the strange occurrence. Where had the dragon gone in such a short space of time? Or had it transformed itself into this man, and what did the whole thing mean? While these thoughts passed through his mind he had come up to the man on the bridge and now addressed him:

"Was it you that called me just now?"

"Yes, it was I," answered the man; "I have an earnest request to make to you. Do you think you can grant it to me?"

"If it is in my power to do so I will," answered Hidesato, "but first tell me who you are?"

"I am the Dragon King of the Lake, and my home is in these waters just under this bridge."

"And what is it you have to ask of me?" said Hidesato.

"I want you to kill my mortal enemy the centipede, who lives on the mountain beyond," and the Dragon King pointed to a high peak on the opposite shore of the lake.

"I have lived now for many years in this lake and I have a large family of children and grandchildren. For some time past we have lived in terror, for a monster centipede has discovered our home, and night after night it comes and carries off one of my family. I am powerless to save them. If it goes on much longer like this, not only shall I lose all my children, but I myself must fall a victim to the monster. I am, therefore, very unhappy, and in my extremity I determined to ask the help of a human being. For many days with this intention I have waited on the bridge in the shape of the horrible serpent-dragon that you saw, in the hope that some strong brave man would come along. But all who came this way, as soon as they saw me were terrified and ran away as fast as they could. You are the first man I have found able to look at me without fear, so I knew at once that you were a man of great courage. I beg you to have pity upon me. Will you not help me and kill my enemy the centipede?"

Hidesato felt very sorry for the Dragon King on hearing his story, and readily promised to do what he could to help him. The warrior asked where the centipede lived, so that he might attack the creature at once. The Dragon King replied that its home was on the mountain Mikami, but that as it came every night at a certain hour to the palace of the lake, it would be better to wait till then. So Hidesato was conducted to the palace of the Dragon King, under the bridge. Strange to say, as he followed his host downward the waters parted to let them pass, and his clothes did not even feel damp as he passed through the flood. Never had Hidesato seen anything so beautiful as this palace built of white marble beneath the lake. He had often heard of the Sea King's Palace at the bottom of the sea, where all the servants and retainers were salt-water fishes, but here was a magnificent building in the heart of Lake Biwa. The dainty goldfishes, red carp, and silvery trout, waited upon the Dragon King and his guest.

Hidesato was astonished at the feast that was spread for him. The dishes were crystallized lotus leaves and flowers, and the chopsticks were of the rarest ebony. As soon as they sat down, the sliding doors opened and ten lovely goldfish dancers came out, and behind them followed ten red-carp musicians with the koto and the samisen. Thus the hours flew by till midnight, and the beautiful music and dancing had banished all thoughts of the centipede. The Dragon King was about to pledge the warrior in a fresh cup of wine when the palace was suddenly shaken by a tramp, tramp! as if a mighty army had begun to march not far away.

Hidesato and his host both rose to their feet and rushed to the balcony, and the warrior saw on the opposite mountain two great balls of glowing fire coming nearer and nearer. The Dragon King stood by the warrior's side trembling with fear.

"The centipede! The centipede! Those two balls of fire are its eyes. It is coming for its prey! Now is the time to kill it."

Hidesato looked where his host pointed, and, in the dim light of the starlit evening, behind the two balls of fire he saw the long body of an enormous centipede winding round the mountains, and the light in its hundred feet glowed like so many distant lanterns moving slowly toward the shore.

Hidesato showed not the least sign of fear. He tried to calm the Dragon King.

"Don't be afraid. I shall surely kill the centipede. Just bring me my bow and arrows."

The Dragon King did as he was bid, and the warrior noticed that he had only three arrows left in his quiver. He took the bow, and fitting an arrow to the notch, took careful aim and let fly.

The arrow hit the centipede right in the middle of its head, but instead of penetrating, it glanced off harmless and fell to the ground.

Nothing daunted, Hidesato took another arrow, fitted it to the notch of the bow and let fly. Again the arrow hit the mark, it struck the centipede right in the middle of its head, only to glance off and fall to the ground. The centipede was invulnerable to weapons! When the Dragon King saw that even this brave warrior's arrows were powerless to kill the centipede, he lost heart and began to tremble with fear.

The warrior saw that he had now only one arrow left in his quiver, and if this one failed he could not kill the centipede. He looked across the waters. The huge reptile had wound its horrid body seven times round the mountain and would soon come down to the lake. Nearer and nearer gleamed the fire-balls of eyes, and the light of its hundred feet began to throw reflections in the still waters of the lake.

Then suddenly the warrior remembered that he had heard that human saliva was deadly to centipedes. But this was no ordinary centipede. This was so monstrous that even to think of such a creature made one creep with horror. Hidesato determined to try his last chance. So taking his last arrow and first putting the end of it in his mouth, he fitted the notch to his bow, took careful aim once more and let fly.

This time the arrow again hit the centipede right in the middle of its head, but instead of glancing off harmlessly as before it struck home to the creature's brain. Then with a convulsive shudder the serpentine body stopped moving, and the fiery light of its great eyes and hundred feet darkened to a dull glare like the sunset of a stormy day, and then went out in blackness. A great darkness now overspread the heavens, the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, and the wind roared in fury, and it seemed as if the world were coming to an end. The Dragon King and his children and retainers all crouched in different parts of the palace, frightened to death, for the building was shaken to its foundations. At last the dreadful night was over. Day dawned beautiful and clear. The centipede was gone from the mountain.

Then Hidesato called to the Dragon King to come out with him on the balcony, for the centipede was dead and he had nothing more to fear.

Then all the inhabitants of the palace came out with joy, and Hidesato pointed to the lake. There lay the body of the dead centipede floating on the water, which was dyed red with its blood.

The gratitude of the Dragon King knew no bounds. The whole family came and bowed down before the warrior, calling him their preserver and the bravest warrior in all Japan.

Another feast was prepared, more sumptuous than the first. All kinds of fish, prepared in every imaginable way, raw, stewed, boiled and roasted, served on coral trays and crystal dishes, were put before him, and the wine was the best that Hidesato had ever tasted in his life. To add to the beauty of everything the sun shone brightly, the lake glittered like a liquid diamond, and the palace was a thousand times more beautiful by day than by night.

His host tried to persuade the warrior to stay a few days, but Hidesato insisted on going home, saying that he had now finished what he had come to do, and must return. The Dragon King and his family were all very sorry to have him leave so soon, but since he would go they begged him to accept a few small presents (so they said) in token of their gratitude to him for delivering them for ever from their horrible enemy the centipede.

As the warrior stood in the porch taking leave, a train of fish was suddenly transformed into a retinue of men, all wearing ceremonial robes and dragon's crowns on their heads to show that they were servants of the great Dragon King. The presents that they carried were as follows:

First, a large bronze bell. Second, a bag of rice. Third, a roll of silk. Fourth, a cooking pot. Fifth, a bell.

Hidesato did not want to accept all these presents, but as the Dragon King insisted, he could not well refuse.

The Dragon King himself accompanied the warrior as far as the bridge, and then took leave of him with many bows and good wishes, leaving the procession of servants to accompany Hidesato to his house with the presents.

The warrior's household and servants had been very much concerned when they found that he did not return the night before, but they finally concluded that he had been kept by the violent storm and had taken shelter somewhere. When the servants on the watch for his return caught sight of him they called to every one that he was approaching, and the whole household turned out to meet him, wondering much what the retinue of men, bearing presents and banners, that followed him, could mean.

As soon as the Dragon King's retainers had put down the presents they vanished, and Hidesato told all that had happened to him.

The presents which he had received from the grateful Dragon King were found to be of magic power. The bell only was ordinary, and as Hidesato had no use for it he presented it to the temple near by, where it was hung up, to boom out the hour of day over the surrounding neighborhood.

The single bag of rice, however much was taken from it day after day for the meals of the knight and his whole family, never grew less—the supply in the bag was inexhaustible.

The roll of silk, too, never grew shorter, though time after time long pieces were cut off to make the warrior a new suit of clothes to go to Court in at the New Year.

The cooking pot was wonderful, too. No matter what was put into it, it cooked deliciously whatever was wanted without any firing—truly a very economical saucepan.

The fame of Hidesato's fortune spread far and wide, and as there was no need for him to spend money on rice or silk or firing, he became very rich and prosperous, and was henceforth known as My Lord Bag of Rice.





THE LITTLE HARE OF OKI

A Japanese Fairy Tale

RETOLD BY B. M. BURRELL

Alice lived in New York, but she still had the nurse who had taken care of her when she was a tiny baby in far-away Japan. Nurse wore the picturesque kimono and obi of her native land, and looked so different from other people that friends often wondered how Alice could feel at home with her. Love, however, is the same the world over, and no one loved Alice better than did her little Japanese nurse.

When Papa and Mama were at dinner, and Alice and Nurse had the library all to themselves till bedtime, the little girl would often pull two chairs up to the fire and say coaxingly:

"There is just time for a story!" And Nurse would smile her funny Japanese smile and begin:

"Long, long ago, when the great Japanese gods ruled from high heaven,—"

This was the beginning Alice liked best, for it meant that a fairy tale would follow. And Nurse would perhaps continue:

"—a little hare lived on the island of Oki. It was a beautiful island, but the hare was not satisfied: he wished to get to the mainland. He did not know how to manage this; but one day he thought of a plan. Hopping down to the shore, he waited till a crocodile came out to sun himself, then opened a conversation with him.

"'There are, I suppose, many crocodiles in the sea,' he began.

"'Many, many!' the crocodile answered.

"'Not so many, however, as there are hares on the island of Oki,' returned the little hare.

"'The crocodiles in the sea outnumber the hares of Oki as the drops in the sea outnumber the trees of the island,' declared the crocodile, in his deepest voice.

"'It does not seem right for a little bit of a creature like myself to differ with your lordship,' said the hare, politely, 'but I should like to see a proof of your statement.'

"'How can we prove it?' the crocodile questioned.

"'You can call all your friends and place them from here to the mainland, each with his nose on the tail of the neighbor before him; then I can easily jump from one to the other, counting as I go.'

"The crocodile agreed to this plan, thinking it a good one. 'But how can we count the hares?' he asked.

"'That we will decide after I have numbered the crocodiles,' the hare suggested.

"The crocodile was satisfied, and bade the hare come to the same place next morning to do the counting. Of course the little animal was on hand bright and early.

"There stretched an unbroken line of crocodiles, a floating bridge to the mainland!

"The little hare lost no time hopping across it, you may be sure. As he reached the last crocodile and prepared to jump to shore, his heart was so full of pride at the success of his ruse that he could not resist crying aloud:

"'How I have fooled you big creatures! I wished for a bridge to the mainland, and you have served my need!' Then he jumped.

"The last crocodile opened his wide jaws and closed them again with a snap. The hare was too quick to be caught, but the monster's teeth touched him and tore off most of his fur! As the poor thing limped away, a crocodile called after him:

"'You see what happens when you trifle with creatures stronger than yourself!'

"The little hare did not know much, but he felt that he was learning. He had no heart to explore the beauties of the mainland now, but crawled under a bush by the roadside and wished that some one would tell him how to cure his wounds.

"After some time he heard the noise of many people on the road. He crept out to see what was coming, and beheld a crowd of young men, carrying burdens as if they were on a journey. They were all tall and handsome, and wore beautiful clothes fit for princes.

"One of them spied the little hare and cried: 'Well, friend, why do you look so sad?'

"The hare, proud of being called 'friend' by this fine gentleman, told how he had deceived the crocodiles. The men laughed loudly, and one of them said: 'Since you are so clever, it is strange that you do not know the best way to cure your wounds. You should bathe in the salt sea, and then climb a hill so that the Wind Goddess can blow upon you with her cool breath.'



"The little hare thanked the strangers for their advice, and then asked them where they were journeying. They replied that they were eighty-one princes, all wishing to marry the princess of that country. She was very rich, and the responsibility of managing her wealth and kingdom was too much for her; so she had given notice that she desired to marry a wise and noble prince whom she could trust to rule for her.

"'So wealth and power do not always bring content?' the hare questioned.

"'They would content us!' the eighty princes answered. (The eighty-first was not present. He was of a kindly and gentle disposition, which caused his brothers to laugh at and impose upon him. To-day they had given him most of the luggage to carry, so he could not walk as fast as they.) As they started on the way, one of the princes called to the hare: 'Good-by! And don't forget to bathe your wounds in the salt sea!' And with loud laughter they continued their journey.

"The little hare did not give himself time to forget. He hurried to the shore and let the waves roll over him, but instead of making him feel better, the biting salt water only increased his pain.

"'I must hurry to the Wind Goddess,' the poor hare thought.

"He climbed the high hill with difficulty and lay down on the top, hoping for relief from his suffering. But the stiff grass pricked his wounds, and the biting wind caused them to throb more painfully. At last he realized that the cruel princes had deceived him, and he crawled back to his bush by the roadside, where he lay with closed eyes.

"A gentle voice roused him. 'Who has wounded you, little hare?' it asked.



"The little hare looked up and saw a beautiful youth standing beside him. His experience with men made him think that it would be best to fly from the stranger; but the young man's kind glance conquered his fear, and he answered: 'I left the island of Oki to see the wonders of the mainland, and I have fared badly from the exchange.' Then he told once more how he had left the island, and also about the bad advice the eighty princes had given him.

"The young man sighed. 'They used you ill, little creature,' he said. 'You learned that it is foolish to meddle with beings stronger than yourself; now you see how wicked it is to torment those weaker. My brother princes should have told you to bathe in the fresh water of the river and to lie on the soft rushes. Now, good-by, little friend. May good luck attend you!' And he walked quietly away, bending beneath the large burden he carried.

"The little hare knew that the stranger was the eighty-first of the princes, and so for a time, he feared to follow his advice. But he was in such pain that he decided to go to the river, which flowed like a silver ribbon through the fields toward the ocean. Into the cool water he plunged and immediately felt better, as the sand and bitter salt of the sea were washed from his wounds. Then he took a nap on the soft rushes.

"When he awoke he no longer was in pain, so he was filled with gratitude toward the young prince who had given him such kind and wise advice. He sat up, feeling quite strong again, and tried to think of a way in which he could repay his benefactor. In the distance he saw the roofs of the princess's palace rising among the trees which surrounded it. This gave him an idea, and he lost no time in carrying it out.

"Across the fields he hopped toward the palace, never stopping till he reached the garden wall. He crept in under the high gate, and there stood the princess under a cherry-tree covered with blossoms. The little hare went up to her and said respectfully:

"'Gracious Princess, I bring to you advice, if you will accept it from so insignificant a person as I.'

"'Speak, little hare,' the beautiful princess answered, for she knew that the best things are often found in unexpected places, and things are not always what they seem to be.

"'Eighty princes are coming to-day as suitors for your hand. They are dressed in rich and beautiful robes, and their faces are gay and smiling; but all that is only to hide the cruelty of their hearts. Following them is a young man who is as wise as he is kind and gentle. Turn the eighty from your gate, but honor the youngest suitor as greater than they.'

"'How do you know all this?' the princess questioned.

"So the little hare told his story for the third time, speaking so earnestly that the princess could not fail to be impressed by it. She thanked him for his advice, and after giving him some tender leaves to eat, prepared to receive the eighty-one brothers. They came a few minutes later, resplendent in the magnificent clothes they had put on in the princess's honor. Indeed, they all looked so handsome that she found it hard to believe the story of their cruelty. While they were talking of their journey to her kingdom, however, some of the princes told how they had made sport of a little hare too stupid to know that salt was not the best thing for open wounds, and she noticed that the youngest brother was the only one who did not enjoy the story. At this, rage filled her gentle heart.

"'Turn out the eighty princes!' she cried to her attendants; 'no one who is cruel to so small a creature as a little hare is fit to rule over a kingdom. But with you,' she added, turning to the youngest prince, 'will I share my throne, for you are a wise and merciful man.'

"You may be sure the youngest prince was happy to hear that, for, after once seeing the beautiful princess, the thought of parting from her was like lead in his breast.

"So the cruel brothers were drummed out of the palace with shouts of scorn; but the gentle prince and princess went into the garden to thank the little hare. They could not find him, however, search as they would; for as soon as he learned of the success of his plan, he had hopped away to see the world, wiser for his day's experiences."

"Is that all?" Alice asked.

"That is all," Nurse answered. "And now it is time for you to go to bed."







By MARGARET JOHNSON



In flowery, fair Cathay, That kingdom far away, Where, odd as it seems, 't is always night when here we are having day, In the time of the great Ching-Wang, In the city of proud Shi-Bang, In the glorious golden days of old when sage and poet sang,

There lived a nobleman who Was known as the Prince Choo-Choo. (It was long before the Chinaman wore his beautiful silken queue.) A learned prince was he, As rich as a prince could be, And his house so gay had a grand gateway, and a wonderful roof, sky-blue.

His garden was bright with tints Of blossoming peach and quince, And a million flowers whose like has not been seen before or since; And set 'mid delicate odors Were cute little toy pagodas, That looked exactly as if you might go in for ice-cream sodas!

A silver fountain played In a bowl of carven jade, And pink and white in a crystal pond the waterlilies swayed. But never a flower that grew In the garden of Prince Choo-Choo Was half so fair as his daughter there, the Princess Loo-lee Loo.



Each day she came and sat Oh her queer little bamboo mat. (And I hope she carried a doll or two, but I can't be sure of that!) She watched the fountain toss, And she gazed the bridge across, And she worked a bit of embroidery fine with a thread of silken floss.



She touched her wee guitar, The gift of her prince-papa, And she hummed a queer little Chinese tune with a Chinese tra-la-la! It was all that she had to do To keep her from feeling blue, For terribly lonely and dull sometimes was poor little Loo-lee Loo.

Her father had kites to fly Far up in the free blue sky (For a Chinaman loves with this elegant sport his leisure to occupy); And what with his drums and gongs, And his numerous loud ding-dongs, He could have any day, in a princely way, a regular Fourth of July.

Her mother, the fair Su-See, Was as busy as she could be, Though she never went out, except, perhaps, to a neighboring afternoon tea; She was young herself, as yet, And the minutes that she could get She spent in studying up the rules of Elegant Etiquette.

So the princess nibbled her plums, And twirled her dear little thumbs, And lent sometimes a wistful ear to the beating of distant drums; Until one April day— Tsing Ming, as they would say— She saw at the gate a sight that straight took Loo-lee's breath away.



Two dimples, soft and meek, In a brown little baby cheek, Two dear little eyes that met her own in a ravishing glance oblique; A chubby hand thrust through The palings of bamboo— A little Celestial, dropped, it seemed, straight out of the shining blue.

A playmate, a friend, a toy, A live little baby boy— Conceive, if you can, in her lonely state, the Princess Loo-lee's joy! How, as fast as her feet could toddle (Her shoes were a Chinese model), She hurried him in, and almost turned his dear little wondering noddle.

"Oh, is it," she bent to say In her courteous Chinese way, "In my very contemptible garden, dear, your illustrious wish to play?" And when he nodded his head She knew that he would have said, "My insignificant feet are proud your honored estate to tread!"

Oh, then, but the garden rang With laughter and joy—ting, tang! There was never a happier spot that day in the realm of the great Ching-Wang! And oh, but it waned too soon, That golden afternoon, When the princess played with her Ray of the Sun, her darling Beam of the Moon!

For when the shadows crept Where the folded lilies slept, Out into the garden all at once the prince her father stepped, With a dignified air benign, And a smile on his features fine, And a perfectly gorgeous gown of silk embroidered with flower and vine.

A fan in his princely hand, Which he waved with a gesture bland (Instead of a gentleman's walking-stick it was carried, you understand), In splendor of girdle and shoe, In a glitter of gold and of blue, With the fair Su-See at his side came he, the lordly Prince Choo-Choo.

The princess bent her brow In a truly celestial bow, Saluted her father with filial grace, and made him the grand kotow. (For every child that's bright Knows well the rule that's right, That to knock your head on the ground nine times is the way to be polite.)

"And, pray, what have we here?" In language kind though queer The prince observed. "It looks to me like a little boy, my dear!" "Why, that's what it is!" in glee The princess cried. "Fing-Wee— Most Perfectly Peerless Prince-Papa, a dear little brother for me!"



Loud laughed the Prince Choo-Choo, And I fancy he said "Pooh-pooh!" (That sounds very much like a Chinese word, and expresses his feelings, too!) And the fair Su-See leaned low. "My Bud of the Rose, you know If little Fing-Wee our son should be, your honors to him must go!"

But the princess's eyes were wet, For her dear little heart was set On having her way till she quite forgot her daughterly etiquette. "Oh, what do I care!" she said. "If he only may stay," she plead, "I will give him the half of my bowl of rice and all of my fish and bread!"

"Dear, dear!" said the Prince Choo-Choo, "Now here is a how-do-you-do! Is there nothing, O Jasmine-Flower, instead? A parasol pink or blue? A beautiful big balloon?" But she wept to the same old tune, "I'd rather have little Fing-Wee, papa, than anything under the moon!"

Then the prince he called for lights, And he called for the Book of Rites, And all of the classical literature that he loved to read o' nights; And he read till the dawn of day In his very remarkable way, From end to beginning, from bottom to top, as only a Chinaman may.



"My father adopted a son, His father the same had done; Some thousands of years ago, it appears, the custom was thus begun." He stopped for a pinch of snuff; His logic was sound, though tough; You may rightfully follow what plan you please, if it's only antique enough!

"A son," he thoughtfully said, "To serve me with rice and bread; To burn the paper above my grave and honor my aged head! Oh, try me the tortoise sign With a tortoise of ancient line: If he turns his toes straight in as he goes, the boy is certainly mine!"

Oho! but the garden rang On that wonderful night—ting, tang! When a banquet meet was served the elite of the city of proud Shi-Bang! And all who passed that way Might read in letters gay As long as your arm: "The Prince Choo-Choo adopts a son to-day!"

There was knocking of heads galore; There were trumpets and drums a score; The gay pavilions were lit with millions of lamps from ceiling to floor. And oh, but the chop-sticks flew In the palace of Prince Choo-Choo, And the gifts that were brought for the little Fing-Wee would fill me a chapter or two.



But with never a single toy, The princess cried for joy, Nor cared she a jot that they all forgot it was she who had found the boy! Her dear little heart it sang Like a bird in her breast—ting, tang! There was never a happier child that night in the realm of the great Ching-Wang!

And her mother, the fair Su-See, She looked at the little Fing-Wee— There were mothers in China some thousands of years before you were born, trust me! She looked at the children two, And down in the dusk and the dew, With a tender mist in her eyes she kissed the Princess Loo-lee Loo!







THE CURIOUS CASE OF AH-TOP

(A Chinese Legend)



The slant-eyed maidens, when they spied The cue of Ah-Top, gaily cried, "It is some mandarin!" The street-boys followed in a crowd; No wonder that Ah-Top was proud And wore a conscious grin!

But one day Ah-Top's heart grew sad. "My fate," he said, "is quite too bad! My cue will hang behind me. While others may its beauty know, To me there's naught its grace to show, And nothing to remind me."



At length he hit upon a plan, Exclaiming, "I'm a clever man! I know what I will do: I'll simply wheel myself around, And then the pigtail will be found Where I can see it, too."

He spun himself upon his toes, He almost fell upon his nose, He grew red in the face. But when Ah-Top could whirl no more, He found the pigtail as before, Resolved to keep its place.

"A'ha!" he cried, "I turned too slow. Next time, you see, I'll faster go. Besides, I stopped too soon. Now for a good one! Ah, but stay— I'll turn myself the other way!" He looked like a balloon!

So fast he whirled, his cue flew out And carried Ah-Top round about. An awful moment came— The helpless spinner could not stop! The poor man had become a top! This gave the toy its name.





THE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL

A Hindu Tale

The Jackal stood looking across the river where the crabs lay in the sun on the sand.

"Oh," said the Jackal, "if I could only swim, how good those crabs would be! I wish I had a boat or a canoe!"

Just then the Camel came out of the woods. "Now," said the Jackal, "if I can only get the Camel to take me across the river! I can ride high up on his hump, and it will be just as good as a boat."

"Good morning, friend," said the Jackal to the Camel. "Are you hungry? I know a place where the sugar cane grows higher and sweeter than anywhere else."

"Where? Where?" cried the Camel. "Tell me, and I will go there at once."

"I could take you to the place," said the Jackal, "but it is across the river, and I cannot swim."

"Oh," said the Camel, "that is all right. Get up on my back and I will take you across, and you can show me where the sugar cane is."

"All right," said the Jackal, "and I will look along the bank of the river and see if I can find any fat crabs on that side."

"Jump up quickly," said the Camel, "it makes me hungry just to think of sugar cane."

So the Jackal jumped up on the Camel's back, and the Camel swam across the river, and the Jackal did not get the least bit wet, even the tip of his tail. (The Jackal does not like to get even the tip of his tail wet.)

When they were across the river the Camel went off to the patch of sugar cane, and the Jackal ate the crabs which lay out in the sun on the sand. It was not long until he had eaten as many crabs as he could, and wanted to go back to the other side of the river. So he went to where the Camel stood in the cane patch.

"Why, have you finished your crabs?" asked the Camel.

"Yes. I cannot eat another one. Let us go back."

"Oh," said the Camel, "I have hardly begun to eat yet."

"Very well," said the Jackal, "I will go out to the edge of the patch and lie down and wait for you."

But the Jackal did not lie down. He was in a hurry to go home, now that he had eaten all the crabs he wanted. So he said: "I do not want to wait here. I know a little song I can sing that will make that Camel hurry."

So he began to sing. Of course, the Camel did not pay any attention, but the farmer heard, as the Jackal knew he would, and came running out with sticks to chase the Jackal. But the Jackal hid in the high cane, and the farmer could not find him. He did find the Camel, however, and called to his boys, and they beat the Camel with sticks and drove him out of the cane.

When the farmer and his boys had gone, the Jackal came out of the cane and found the Camel lying on the sand bruised with the beating he had gotten.

"Oh, friend," he exclaimed, "where have you been? I have been hunting for you in the cane."

"Do not call me friend," said the Camel. "Why did you sing that song that made the farmer come out and beat me?"

"Oh," said the Jackal, "did the farmer come out and beat you? That is too bad. But I always sing a song after dinner."

"Ah, do you?" said the Camel. "I did not know that. Very well. Let us go home. Climb up while I am lying down."

So the Jackal climbed upon the Camel's back, and he entered the water and began to swim across the river, the Jackal riding high on the hump of the camel so as not to get wet, even to the tip of his tail.

When they were about the middle of the stream the Camel said: "I believe that I shall roll over."

"Do not do that," exclaimed the Jackal, "for I shall get wet and be drowned."

"Maybe you will," said the Camel; "but you see I always roll over after dinner."

So he rolled over in the water, and the Jackal got wet—first the tip of his tail, and then all over, and was drowned.



HASHNU THE STONECUTTER

A Japanese Story

Hashnu the Stonecutter sat beside the highway cutting stone. It was hard work, and the sun shone hot upon him.

"Ah me!" said Hashnu, "if one only did not have to work all day. I would that I could sit and rest, and not have to ply this heavy mallet.

Just then there was a great commotion, and Hashnu saw a crowd of people coming up the road. When they drew nearer he noticed that one of them was the King. On his right side rode soldiers, all arrayed in armor and ready to do his bidding, while on the left rode courtiers, seeking to serve him and win his favor.

And Hashnu, watching, thought what a fine thing it would be to be a King, and to have soldiers to do his bidding, and courtiers to serve him, and he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only a King could be."

At once he heard a voice say: "Be thou the King."

Then in a moment Hashnu found that he was no longer the stonecutter, sitting beside the highway with a heavy mallet in his hand, but the King, dressed in armor, riding in the midst of soldiers and courtiers, and all about him doing homage.

He rode very proudly for a while, and his subjects bowed low before him. But the armor was heavy, and the helmet pressed hard upon his brow, and his head throbbed with the weight of it. He was indeed weary and faint with the heat, because, though a King, the sun beat hot upon him!

And he said to himself: "Lo, I am the King, and yet the sun can make me faint and weary. I had thought that to be a King was to be stronger than anything else, but the sun is stronger than the King!"

And as they rode further, and the sun still beat hard upon him, he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the sun could be!"

Then he heard a voice say: "Be thou the sun."

And in a moment he was no longer the King, riding among his courtiers, but the sun, blazing high in the heavens, shining hot upon the fields and the meadows. As he did not know how to shine, he allowed his rays to fall too fiercely upon the world, and grass and grain were dried up and withered, and men lamented because of the cruelty of the heat. But Hashnu thought he was doing great things, and was very proud, until a cloud came between him and the earth, so that his rays no longer fell upon the fields and the cities of men.

And Hashnu said: "Lo, I am the sun, and my rays fell upon the fields and the cities, and all acknowledge my power. But the cloud is stronger than the sun, for it shuts off my rays from the earth."

Then, because the cloud would not go, but became heavier and blacker, Hashnu lamented, and said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the cloud could be."

And in a moment he was no longer the sun, shining fiercely upon the earth, but the cloud, riding in the sky, shutting off the rays of the sun, and pouring rain upon the fields and the meadows, filling the rivers and the streams to overflowing. But he did not know how to let down the rain wisely, and it fell too heavily, and the rivers rose high and destroyed the fields and the cities, and the meadows were turned into swamps, and the grain rotted in the ground, and the wind blew, and trees were uprooted, and houses fell before it. But Hashnu cared for none of these things, for he thought he was doing very finely indeed.

But as he looked down upon the earth he saw that a rock beside the highway stood unmoved and firm, for all of his raining and blowing. And he said: "For all I am strong, and can blow down trees and destroy cities, and can pour my waters upon the earth and flood the fields and the meadows, yet does that rock defy my power. I, Hashnu, would be stronger than the rock!"

But the rock was unchanged, and Hashnu, lamenting, said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the rock could be!"

Then he heard a voice say: "Be thou the rock."

And in a moment he was no longer the cloud, with the wind blowing hard, and pouring water upon the earth, but the rock, fixed and unmoved beside the highway. Now, at last, he felt that he was stronger than all. But even as he rejoiced, he felt the sharp point of a stonecutter's chisel, and heard the sound of his heavy mallet striking upon its head. Then he knew that, though the water had fallen upon the rock and been unable to change it, and the wind had blown hard against it and had no effect, yet would the stonecutter change and alter it, and make it take whatever shape he desired. And he said:

"Ah me, ah me, If Hashnu only the stonecutter could be!"

And he heard a voice say: "Be thou thyself."

Then Hashnu found himself again sitting beside the highway with a chisel in his hand, and a mallet on the ground beside him, and the rock before him. And the King had gone by, and the rays of the sun were now shadowed by the cloud, from which no rain fell, but only a grateful shade. And Hashnu said:

"The sun was stronger than the King, the cloud was stronger than the sun, the rock was stronger than the cloud, but I, Hashnu, am stronger than all."

And so he worked on, now well content to do each day his added task.



THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL[N]

Once upon a time a Tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.

By chance a poor Brahman came by. "Let me out of this cage, oh, pious one!" cried the Tiger.

"Nay, my friend," replied the Brahman, mildly; "you would probably eat me if I did."

"Not at all!" declared the Tiger; "on the contrary, I should be forever grateful, and serve you as a slave!"

Now, when the Tiger sobbed, and sighed, and wept, and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened; and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the Tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried: "What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!"

In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the Tiger's action.

So the Brahman asked first a Pipal Tree what it thought of the matter; but the Pipal Tree replied coldly: "What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper—be a man!"

Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went farther afield till he saw a Buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered: "You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!"

The Brahman, still more sad, asked the Road to give him its opinion.

"My dear sir," said the Road, "how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!"

On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a Jackal, who called out: "Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!"

The Brahman told him all that had occurred.

"How very confusing!" said the Jackal, when the recital was ended; "would you mind telling me again, for everything has got so mixed up?"

The Brahman told it all over again, but the Jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.

"It's very odd," said he, sadly, "but it all seems to go in at one ear and out of the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment."

So they returned to the cage, by which the Tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.

"You've been away a long time!" growled the savage beast, "but now let us begin our dinner."

"Our dinner!" thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright; "what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!"

"Give me five minutes, my lord!" he pleaded, "in order that I may explain matters to the Jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits."

The Tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.

"Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!" cried the Jackal, wringing its paws. "Let me see! How did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the Tiger came walking by—"

"Pooh!" interrupted the Tiger, "what a fool you are! I was in the cage."

"Of course!" cried the Jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; "yes! I was in the cage—no I wasn't—dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see—the Tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by—no, that's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!"

"Yes, you shall!" returned the Tiger, in a rage at the Jackal's stupidity; "I'll make you understand! Look here! I am the Tiger—"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And that is the Brahman!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And that is the cage!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And I was in the cage—do you understand?"

"Yes—no! Please, my lord—"

"Well?" cried the Tiger, impatiently.

"Please, my lord!—how did you get in?"

"How!—why in the usual way, of course!"

"Oh, dear me!—my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?"

At this the Tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried: "This way! Now do you understand how it was?"

"Perfectly!" grinned the Jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, "and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!"

[N] From "Indian Fairy Tales," edited by Joseph Jacobs; used by permission of the publishers, G. P. Putnam's Sons.



THE STORY OF THE WILLOW PATTERN PLATE

RETOLD BY M. ALSTON BUCKLEY

Once upon a time there lived in China a rich and haughty mandarin, who had great riches in lands, and horses, and priceless jewels. This great man had one lovely daughter with soft black eyes, and raven hair that scarcely could be told in texture from the silken robes she wore. The mandarin loved his daughter and showered dazzling jewels on her, and bought rich robes, heavy with choicest needlework, that she might wear them.

Now the mandarin had a faithful secretary, a young man named Chang, whose every thought was given to the business of the man he served. But as he went about the house with downcast eyes, Chang saw the daughter of the mandarin trip lightly to her father's side to whisper in the ear of her indulgent parent, or flash across the hall, or through the garden where she fed her goldfish in the lake, and when her mother called her name, Kong Lee, it seemed to him like sounds of liquid music. The mandarin talked always of his secretary, and said that he was honest and true and good, and told the truth and did his work as well as ever any man could do it.

Kong Lee learned to think of him and love him.

But the mandarin had a friend, a rich old man, who wished to marry Kong Lee, and take her far away to be the mistress of his castle. Kong Lee refused to marry this old man, and to punish her, her father shut her up in the top room of a lonely house that stood on the lake shore. From her windows she could see the lake, and she could see the willow tree that dipped its drooping branches in the smooth, still water and seemed to hang its head and weep for her. And when the Spring came on and she could hear the singing of the birds, she wished that she could go and walk about the garden where she could see the sweet blossoms that hung like a veil of pink over the peach trees. In her loneliness she wept, and wrote sad poetry, which she threw into the water.

All this time Chang grieved for her, and sent her gifts to comfort her, and when his work was done, he walked along the shore and thought of her. But one day Kong Lee caught sight of him standing on the shore, and she thought, "Chang will help me." So she took a cocoanut, and cut the shell in two and made a little boat of half of it. Then she made a little sail of fine, carved ivory, on the sail she wrote a message asking Chang to help her and threw the boat out of the window. The little skiff sailed out over the lake, then fell and splashed into the water, the wind caught the sail and the small craft sailed bravely on. Chang saw it, waded out, and caught it, read the message, and went to find Kong Lee.

Kong Lee was waiting for him, and they fled in haste, taking her box of jewels with them. The mandarin saw them, and taking a whip he hastened after them to beat them back again, for he had great fear of his friend's anger. But they were too swift for him, and reached the other side, where Chang's boat was waiting to take them to his house.

There they were married, and lived in happiness until the mandarin's wicked friend found where they were, and secretly, at night, sailed down the lake and burned the house when they were sleeping. But their loving spirits became two doves that rested in the trees and flew about the places they had loved.

And if you look at a blue china plate you will see there the house where Kong Lee was shut up, the willow tree she watched, Kong Lee and Chang running across the bridge followed by her father with his whip, the funny house-boat that carried them away to Chang's little house that almost is hidden by the trees, and at the top, the pair of doves in which the Chinese poet believed the spirits of Kong Lee and Chang still lived.











BROTHER FOX'S TAR BABY[O]

TRANSLATED BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS

Once upon a time Brother Fox and Brother Rabbit lived near each other in the woods. But they had to go a long way each morning to get water from a spring.

One day Brother Fox said to Brother Rabbit: "What's the use of taking a long walk every morning. Let us dig a well of our own."

"I shall no longer go to the spring," said Brother Rabbit. "From this time on I shall drink the dew from the grass and the flowers. Why should I work to dig a well?"

Brother Rabbit knew by the way Brother Fox talked that he was going to dig the well anyway.

"Just as you please," said Brother Fox. "Then I will dig the well myself. And I will drink the water all by myself."

The next morning Brother Fox began to dig a well by a big tree. He worked, and worked, and worked. Brother Rabbit was hiding in a bush near by and watching Brother Fox.

"Ha, ha, ha!" he said to himself. "How foolish Brother Fox is! I guess I shall soon have all the water I want. Ha, ha, ha!"

That night, while Brother Fox was asleep, Brother Rabbit stole quietly down to the well by the big tree, and drank and laughed, and drank and laughed.

"I guess I can have all the water I want," said Brother Rabbit. "Brother Fox was foolish to do all the work."

The next day, when Brother Fox went to get some water, he saw rabbit tracks in the mud.

"Ah, ha! Brother Rabbit," said Brother Fox to himself, "so that's the way you drink the dew from the grass and the flowers! Well, well, I think I can catch you at your trick!"

Brother Fox ran home as fast as he could and made a great big doll of wood, as big as a baby. He covered the wooden doll with black, sticky tar. Then he put a little cap on its head. At sunset, he put the tar baby out beside the well.

"I think I shall get Brother Rabbit this time," he said, as he went home laughing to himself all the way.

Soon Brother Rabbit came hopping through the bushes. He looked first this way, then that. The least noise frightened him. When he saw the tar baby, he sat up straight and peeped at it through the leaves.

"Hullo, there! Who are you?" he said at last.

The tar baby said nothing.

"Who are you, I say?" he asked in a louder tone.

The tar baby said nothing.

Then Brother Rabbit went right up close to the tar baby.

"Why don't you answer me?" he shouted.

The tar baby said nothing.

"See here!" he shouted. "Have you no tongue? Speak, or I'll hit you!"

The tar baby said nothing.

Brother Rabbit raised his right hand and—biff! his hand stuck fast.

"Here! What's this?" he cried. "Let me go, or I'll hit you again."

The tar baby said nothing.

At that—blip! he hit the tar baby with the other hand. That stuck fast, too.

"Listen to me, you rascal!" cried Brother Rabbit. "If you don't let me go, I'll kick you!"

The tar baby said nothing.

Bim! Brother Rabbit's right foot stuck fast.

"See here, you imp!" he shrieked. "If I kick you with my left foot, you'll think the world has come to an end!"

The tar baby said nothing.

Bom! the left foot stuck fast.

"Look out, now!" Brother Rabbit screamed. "Let me loose, or I'll butt you into the well with my head! Let me go, I say!"

The tar baby said nothing.

Buff! Brother Rabbit's head stuck fast.

And there was Brother Rabbit with both hands, and both feet, and his head stuck fast.

The next morning Brother Fox came out to see how the tar baby was getting along. He saw Brother Rabbit, and he laughed to himself until his sides ached.

"Hey, Brother Rabbit!" he called. "What are you doing? How do you like my tar baby? I thought you drank dew from the grass and the flowers! I have you now, Brother Rabbit, I have you now."

"Let me go, Brother Fox!" cried Brother Rabbit. "Let me go! I am your friend. Don't hurt me!"

"Friend? You are a thief," said Brother Fox. "Who wants a thief for a friend?" Then he ran quickly to his home in the woods and built a big fire.

Soon Brother Fox tore Brother Rabbit loose from the tar baby, threw him over his shoulder, and started for the fire.

"Roast rabbit is good," said Brother Fox.

"Roast me! Burn me! Anything!" said Brother Rabbit, "Only don't throw me into the brier patch."

"I've a mind to throw you into the well," said Brother Fox, as he turned and looked back.

"Drown me! Kill me! Anything! Only don't throw me into the brier patch," said Brother Rabbit. "The briers will tear my flesh and scratch my eyes out. Throw me into the fire! Throw me into the well!"

"Ah, ha, Brother Rabbit!" said Brother Fox. "So you don't like briers? Then here you go!" and he threw Brother Rabbit away over into the brier patch.

As soon as Brother Rabbit touched the ground, he sat up and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

"Ha, ha, ha! Brother Fox!" said Brother Rabbit. "Thank you, dear Brother Fox, thank you! I was born and reared in a brier patch."

Then Brother Rabbit ran off in great glee, chuckling over the trick he had played on Brother Fox.

[O] From "Evening Tales," by Frederic Ortoli; used by permission of the publishers, Charles Scribner's Sons.



THE RABBIT AND THE PEAS

BY MRS. M. R. ALLEN

A long time ago there was a Bear that had a fine pea patch. He and his wife had to work in the field every day, so they left their little girl at home to keep house. One fine morning Br'er (which means "Brother") Rabbit came up to the house and called the little girl: "Mary, Mary, your father and mother told me to come up here and tell you to put me in the pea patch and let me have as many peas as I want." So Mary put him in, and he stayed there until nearly 12 o'clock, and then he begun calling: "Little girl, little girl, come and let me out; I'm full for this time!"

So she let him out, and he went home. At dinner when her father and mother came home and saw their pea patch they were angry, and said: "Who has been in these peas?" "Why, didn't you send Br'er Rabbit to get as many as he wanted?" said Mary. "No, I didn't; no, I didn't;" said Mr. Bear. "And the next time that rascal comes here with that sort of tale, you just keep him in there until I come home."

So the next morning Br'er Rabbit came back again, and called: "Mary, Mary, your father told me to tell you to put me in the pea patch, and let me have all the peas I want." "All right," said Mary; "come on." So she put him in and fastened him up.

As it began to grow late, Mr. Rabbit began to call: "Little girl, little girl, come and let me out!" "All right," said Mary, "when I put down my bread for supper." After a while he called again: "Little girl, little girl, come let me out!" "When I milk my cow," said Mary. When she finished milking he called again, and she said: "Wait till I turn my cow out."

By that time Mr. Bear came home and found him in his pea patch, and asked him what he was doing in there. "Your little girl told me you said I might have some peas," said Br'er Rabbit. "Well," said Mr. Bear, "I'll put you in this box until I get rested and eat my supper, then I'll show you a trick or two." So he locked him in the box and went to the house.

After a while Br'er Fox came along the road, and Br'er Rabbit called him, and Br'er Fox said: "What are you doing in there?" "They are going to have a ball here to-night and want me to play the fiddle for them, so they put me in here. I wouldn't disappoint them," said Br'er Rabbit. "But, Br'er Fox, you always could beat me playing the fiddle. Now, they offer to pay two dollars for every tune. Suppose you take my place; my wife is sick and I must go home—if I can get off."

"All right," said Mr. Fox. "I'm always willing to make money, and if you don't want to stay I will take your place."



"Well, look on top of the box and get the key. I saw Mr. Bear put it there," said Br'er Rabbit. So Br'er Fox unlocked the door, and Br'er Rabbit hopped out and locked Br'er Fox in.

So after supper they all came out, and the little girl ran up to the box and looked in, and said: "Oh, mamma! just come and see how this Rabbit has growed!"

Mr. Fox said: "I ain't no Rabbit!" "Well," said Mr. Bear, "how came you in there?" "Because Br'er Rabbit asked me to take his place, and play at your ball to-night," said Mr. Fox.

"Well, Br'er Rabbit has fooled you badly, Fox. But I will have to whip you, anyway, for letting him out. I'll help you find Br'er Rabbit." "I'll hunt him till I die, to pay him back for fooling me so," said Mr. Fox. So they all started out to find Br'er Rabbit.

And they soon came upon him, and he began to run, and all of them after him. And they got him in a tight place, and he ran up a hollow tree.

And they had to go back for their axes. So they put a Frog at the tree to watch him to keep him from getting away. After they were gone, Mr. Frog looked up and saw Br'er Rabbit.



"What's dat you chewing?" said Mr. Frog. "Tobacco," said Br'er Rabbit. "Give me some," said Mr. Frog. "Well," said Br'er Rabbit, "look up here and open your eyes and mouth wide." So he filled the Frog's eyes full of trash. And while Mr. Frog was rubbing his eyes trying to get the trash out so he could see, Br'er Rabbit ran out and got away.

When Mr. Bear and Mr. Fox got back with their axes, they asked Mr. Frog: "Whar's Mr. Rabbit?" He said: "He's in dar." They cut down the tree and didn't find him. Then they asked Mr. Frog again: "Whar's Mr. Rabbit?" "He's in dar," said Mr. Frog. So they split the tree open, and still didn't find him. And they asked Mr. Frog again, "Whar's Mr. Rabbit, I say?" "He's in dar," said Mr. Frog.

"Now, Mr. Frog," they said, "you have let Mr. Rabbit get away, and we are going to kill you in his place."

So Mr. Frog said: "Wait till I go to my praying ground, and say my prayers." So they told him he might have five minutes.

And there was a pond near by, and a log on the edge of it. So when Frog got on the log he bowed his head and said: "Ta-hoo! ta-hoo! ta-h-o-o!" Splash! and he was gone! And the Bear and Fox were outwitted again.





BR'ER RABBIT'S FISHING[P]

One day, Br'er Rabbit, and Br'er Fox, and Br'er Bear, and Br'er Coon, and all the rest of them were clearing up a new piece of ground to plant some corn.

The sun got sort of hot, and Br'er Rabbit he got tired; but he didn't say so, 'cause he 'fraid the others'd call him lazy, so he kept on clearing away the rubbish and piling it up, till by-and-by he holler out that he got a thorn in his hand. Then he took and slipped off, and hunted for a cool place to rest in.

After a while Br'er Rabbit he see a well, with a bucket hanging in it.

"That looks cool," says Br'er Rabbit, says he, "and cool I 'spects it is. I'll just about get in there and take a nap," says he. And with that in he jumped.

No sooner was Br'er Rabbit in, than the bucket began to go down, and there was no wusser scared beast since the world began than this here Br'er Rabbit was then. He fairly shook with fright. He know where he come from, but he dunno where he going. Presently he feel the bucket hit the water, and there it sat. Br'er Rabbit he keep mighty still, 'cause he dunno what be going to happen next. He just lay there, and shook and shivered.

Now, Br'er Fox he always kep' one eye on Br'er Rabbit and, when Br'er Rabbit slipped off the new ground, Br'er Fox he sneaked after him. He knew Br'er Rabbit was after something or other, and he took and crept off to watch him. Br'er Fox see Br'er Rabbit come to the well and stop, and then he see him jump into the bucket, and then, lo and behold, he see him go down out of sight.

Br'er Fox was the most astonished fox that ever you set eyes on. He sat off there in the bushes, and he think and think, but he make no heads or tails of this kind of business. Then he says to himself, says he:

"Well, if this don't beat my times," says he, "then Joe's dead and Sal's a widder," says he. "Right down there in that well Br'er Rabbit keeps his money hid, and if it ain't that, then he's been and gone and discovered a gold mine; and if it ain't that, then I'm a-going to see what is there," says he.

Br'er Fox crept up a little nigher, he did, and he listen, but he hear nothing, and he kept on getting nigher, and yet he hear nothing. By-and-by he get up close. He peep down; he see nothing, and he hear nothing.

All this while Br'er Rabbit was nearly scared out of his skin, and he 'fraid to move, 'cause the bucket might keel over and spill him out into the water.

Then old Br'er Fox holler out:

"Hallo, Br'er Rabbit! Who you visiting down there?" says he.

"Who? Me? Oh, I'm just a-fishing, Br'er Fox," says Br'er Rabbit, says he. "I just said to myself that I'd sort of surprise you all with a lot of fishes for dinner; and so here I is, and here's the fishes. I'm fishing, Br'er Fox," says Br'er Rabbit, says he.

"Is there many of 'em down there, Br'er Rabbit?" says Br'er Fox.

"Lots of 'em, Br'er Fox. Scores and scores of 'em. The water is just alive with 'em. Come down, and help me haul 'em up, Br'er Fox," says old Br'er Rabbit, says he.

"How 'm I going to get down, Br'er Rabbit?"

"Jump into the other bucket, Br'er Fox. It'll fetch you down all safe and sound."

Br'er Rabbit he talk so happy and talk so sweet, that Br'er Fox he jump into the bucket, he did, and as he went down, of course his weight pulled Br'er Rabbit up. When they passed one another half-way down, Br'er Rabbit he sing out:

"Good-by, Br'er Fox, take care of your clothes, For this is the way the world goes; Some goes up, and some goes down, You'll get to the bottom all safe and soun'."

When Br'er Rabbit get out, he gallop off and tell the folks what the well belong to that Br'er Fox was down in there muddying up the drinking water, and then he gallop back to the well and holler down to Br'er Fox:

"Here comes a man with a great big gun; When he hauls you up, you cut and run."

But in about half an hour both of them were back in the new ground, working as if they never heard of no well, 'cept that every now and then Br'er Rabbit burst out and laugh, and old Br'er Fox he'd get a spell of the dry grins.

[P] From "More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit," published by Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their permission.



BR'ER POSSUM LOVES PEACE

One night Br'er Possum called for Br'er Coon, and they rambled forth to see how the others were getting along. Br'er Possum he ate his fill of fruit, and Br'er Coon he scooped up a lot of frogs and tadpoles. They ambled along, just as sociable as a basket of kittens, till by-and-by they heard Mr. Dog talking to himself off in the woods.

"S'pose he runs upon us, Br'er Possum, what you going to do?" says Br'er Coon.

Br'er Possum sort of laugh round the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, if he comes, Br'er Coon, I'm going to stand by you," says Br'er Possum. "What are you going to do?" says he.

"Who? Me?" says Br'er Coon. "If he runs up on to me, I lay I'll give him a twist," says he.

Mr. Dog he came and he came. He didn't wait to say How-d'ye-do. He just sailed into the two of them. The very first pass he made, Br'er Possum fetched a grin from ear to ear, and keeled over as if he was dead. Then Mr. Dog he sailed into Br'er Coon, but Br'er Coon was cut out for that kind of business, and he fairly wiped up the face of the earth with Mr. Dog. When Mr. Dog got a chance to make himself scarce, he took it, and what was left of him went skaddling through the woods as if it was shot out of a gun. Br'er Coon he sort of licked his clothes into shape, and racked off, and Br'er Possum he lay as if he was dead, till by-and-by he looked up, sort of careful-like, and when he found the coast clear he scrambled up and scampered off as if something was after him.

Next time Br'er Possum met Br'er Coon, Br'er Coon refused to reply to his How-d'ye-do, and this made Br'er Possum feel mighty bad, 'cause they used to make so many excursions together.

"What makes you hold your head so high?" says Br'er Possum, says he.

"I ain't running with cowards these days," says Br'er Coon. "When I wants you, I'll send for you," says he.

Then Br'er Possum got very angry. "Who's a coward?" says he.

"You is," says Br'er Coon, "that's who. I ain't associating with them what lies down on the ground and plays dead when there's a free fight going on," says he.

Then Br'er Possum grin and laugh fit to kill hisself.

"Lor'! Br'er Coon, you don't think I done that 'cause I was afraid, does you?" says he. "Why, I were no more afraid than you is this minute. What was there to be skeered at?" says he. "I knew you'd get away with Mr. Dog if I didn't, and I just lay there watching you shake him, waiting to put in when the time came," says he.



Br'er Coon turn up his nose.

"That's a mighty likely tale," says he. "When Mr. Dog no more than touched you before you keeled over and lay there stiff," says he.

"That's just what I was going to tell you about," says Br'er Possum. "I weren't no more skeered 'n you is now, and I was going to give Mr. Dog a sample of my jaw," says he, "but I'm the most ticklish chap that ever you set eyes on, and no sooner did Mr. Dog put his nose down among my ribs than I got to laughing, and I laugh till I hadn't no more use of my limbs," says he; "and it's a mercy for Mr. Dog that I was ticklish, 'cause a little more and I'd have ate him up," says he. "I don't mind fighting, Br'er Coon, any more than you does, but I'm blessed if I can stand tickling. Get me in a row where there ain't no tickling allowed, and I'm your man," says he.

And to this day Br'er Possum's bound to surrender when you touch him in the short ribs, and he'll laugh even if he knows he's going to be smashed for it.



BR'ER FOX TACKLES OLD BR'ER TARRYPIN[Q]

One day Br'er Fox struck up with Br'er Tarrypin right in the middle of the big road. Br'er Tarrypin he heard Br'er Fox coming, and he say to hisself that he'd sort of better keep one eye open; but Br'er Fox was monstrous polite, and he begin, he did, and say he hadn't seen Br'er Tarrypin this ever so long.

"Hallo, Br'er Tarrypin, where you been this long-come-short?" says Br'er Fox, says he.

"Lounging round," says Br'er Tarrypin.

"You don't look sprucy, like you did, Br'er Tarrypin," says Br'er Fox.

"Lounging round and suffering," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.

Then the talk sort of run on like this:

"What ails you, Br'er Tarrypin? Your eye look mighty red," says Br'er Fox.

"Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is. You ain't been lounging round and suffering," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.

"Both eyes red, and you look like you is mighty weak, Br'er Tarrypin," says Br'er Fox, says he.

"Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.

"What ails you now?" says Br'er Fox.

"Took a walk the other day, and Mr. Man come along and set the field on fire. Lor, Br'er Fox, you dunno what trouble is," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.

"How you get out of the fire, Br'er Tarrypin?" says Br'er Fox.

"Sat and took it, Br'er Fox," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he, "sat and took it; and the smoke got in my eye, and the fire scorched my back," says Br'er Tarrypin, says he.

"Likewise it burn your tail off," says Br'er Fox, says he.

"Oh, no, there's my tail, Br'er Fox," says Br'er Tarrypin, and with that he uncurl his tail from under his shell, and no sooner did he do that than Br'er Fox grab at it and holler out:

"Oh, yes, Br'er Terrapin! Oh, yes! And so you's the one what lam me on the head the other day, is you? You's in with Br'er Rabbit, is you? Well, I'm going to out you."

Br'er Tarrypin he beg and he beg, but it weren't no use. Then he beg Br'er Fox not to drown him. Br'er Fox ain't making no promise. Then he beg Br'er Fox to burn him, 'cause now he used to fire. Br'er Fox he say nothing. By-and-by Br'er Fox drag Br'er Tarrypin off little ways below the spring, and he souse him under the water.

Then Br'er Tarrypin he began to holler out:

"Turn loose that stump-root and catch hold of me!"

Br'er Fox he holler back:

"I ain't got hold of no stump-root, and I is got hold of you."

"Catch hold of me, I'm a-drowning—I'm a-drowning; turn loose that stump-root and catch hold of me!"

Sure enough, Br'er Fox turned loose Br'er Tarrypin's tail, and Br'er Tarrypin he went down to the bottom!

Was Br'er Tarrypin drowned, then? Not a bit of it. Is you drowned when your mammy tucks you up in bed?



[Q] From "More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit," published by Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their permission.





HOW COUSIN WILDCAT SERVED BR'ER FOX[R]

Br'er Rabbit and Br'er Fox had both been paying calls one evening at the same house. They sat there, and after a while Br'er Rabbit looked out, and said:

"Now then, folks and friends, I must say good-by. Cloud coming up yonder, and before we know it, the rain'll be a-pouring."

Then Br'er Fox he up and says he 'spects he better be getting on, 'cause he doesn't want to get his Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes wet. So they set out.

While they were going down the big road, talking at one another, Br'er Fox he took and stopped, and said:

"Look here, Br'er Rabbit, look here! If my eyes don't deceive, here's the tracks where Mr. Dog's been along, and they're quite fresh!"

Br'er Rabbit he sidle up and look. Then he say:

"That there track ain't never fit Mr. Dog's foot. What's more," says he, "I been acquainted with him what made that track too long ago to talk about."

"Br'er Rabbit, please, sir, tell me his name."

Br'er Rabbit he laughs, as if he was making light of something or other.

"If I makes no mistakes, Br'er Fox, the poor creature what made that track is Cousin Wildcat; no more and no less."

"How big is he, Br'er Rabbit?"

"Just about your heft, Br'er Fox." Then Br'er Rabbit make like talking to himself. "Tut, tut, tut! To be sure, to be sure! Many and many's the times I see my old grand-daddy kick and cuff Cousin Wildcat. If you want some fun, Br'er Fox, now's the time."

Br'er Fox he up and axed how he's going to have any fun.

Br'er Rabbit he say: "Easy enough. Just go and tackle old Cousin Wildcat, and lam him round."

Br'er Fox he sorter scratch his ear, and say: "Eh, eh, Br'er Rabbit, I'm 'fraid. His track too much like Mr. Dog."

Br'er Rabbit he sat flat down in the road, and holler, and laugh. "Shoo, Br'er Fox!" says he, "who'd ha' thought you so skeery? Just come and look at these here tracks. Is there any sign of claw anywheres?"

Br'er Fox was obliged to agree that there weren't no sign of claw. Br'er Rabbit say: "Well, then, if he ain't got no claw, how's he going to hurt you, Br'er Fox?"

Br'er Fox took another good look at the track, and then he and Br'er Rabbit put out to follow it up.

They kept on and on, till by-and-by they ran up with the creature. Br'er Rabbit he holler out mighty biggity: "Hallo, there! what you doing?"

The creature look round, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit say: "Oh, you needn't look so sulky! We'll make you talk before we've done with you! Come, now, what you doing there?"

The creature rub hisself against a tree just as you see these here house cats rub against a chair, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit holler: "What you come bothering us for when we ain't been bothering you? You thinks I don't know who you is, but I does. I'll let you know I got a better man here than what my grand-daddy been, and I'll be bound he'll make you talk."

The creature leaned harder against the tree, and sort of ruffled up his bristles, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Rabbit he say: "Go up, Br'er Fox, and if he refuse to speak, slap him down. That's the way my grand-daddy did. If he dares to run, I'll just whirl in and catch him."

Br'er Fox he look sort of dubious, but he start toward the creature. Old Cousin Wildcat walk all round the tree rubbing hisself, but he ain't saying nothing. Br'er Fox he went up a little nigher. Cousin Wildcat stop rubbing on the tree, and sat upon his behind legs with his front paws in the air, and balances hisself by leaning against the tree, but he ain't saying nothing.

Br'er Rabbit he squall out: "Oh, you needn't put up your hands, and try and beg off. That's the way you fooled my old grand-daddy; but you can't fool me. All your sitting up and begging ain't going to help you. Hit him, Br'er Fox! If he runs, I'll catch him!"

Br'er Fox he sort of took heart. He sidled up toward him, and just as he was making ready to slap him, old Cousin Wildcat drew back, and fetched Br'er Fox a wipe across the stomach.

That there Cousin Wildcat fetched him a wipe across the stomach, and you might have heard him squall for miles and miles. Little more and the creature would have torn Br'er Fox in two. Once the creature made a pass at him, Br'er Rabbit knew what was going to happen, yet all the same he took and hollered:

"Hit him again, Br'er Fox! hit him again! I'm a-backing you, Br'er Fox! Hit him again!"

While Br'er Rabbit was going on in this way, Br'er Fox was squatting on the ground, holding his stomach with both hands and moaning:

"I'm ruined, Br'er Rabbit! I'm ruined! Fetch the doctor! I'm teetotally ruined!"

About this time Cousin Wildcat took and went for a walk. Br'er Rabbit make like he astonished that Br'er Fox is hurted. He took and examine the place, and he up and say: "It look to me, Br'er Fox, that that owdacious villain took and struck you with a reaping hook."

With that Br'er Rabbit lit out for home, and when he got out of sight he took and shook his hands, just like a cat when she gets the water on her foots. Then he laugh and laugh till he can laugh no more.

[R] From "More Funny Stories About Br'er Rabbit," published by Stead's Publishing House, London, England, and used with their permission.





PLANTATION STORIES

BY GRACE MACGOWAN COOKE

I.—MRS. PRAIRIE-DOG'S BOARDERS

Texas is a near-by land to the dwellers in the Southern States. Many of the poorer white people go there to mend their fortunes; and not a few of them come back from its plains, homesick for the mountains, and with these fortunes unmended. Daddy Laban, the half-breed, son of an Indian father and a negro mother, who sometimes visited Broadlands plantation, had been a wanderer; and his travels had carried him as far afield as the plains of southwestern Texas. The Randolph children liked, almost better than any others, the stories he brought home from these extensive travels.