The Prince was terribly angry, and swore that he would put to death the person who had helped Celia to escape. It happened that this threat gave some of the Prince's wicked friends the very chance they wanted to get rid of the Prince's tutor, an old nobleman whom they all hated because he was good.

Soon these wicked men had everyone in the court whispering: "Yes, it was Suliman who helped Celia escape." Some men even were found who swore that Suliman himself had told them about it. When the Prince heard it he was still more angry. To think that his old tutor could treat him so! He ordered his men to arrest the supposed offender, put him in chains, as if he were a murderer, and bring him to court.

No sooner was the order given than there was a tremendous roar of thunder. The ground was still shaking when the Fairy Truth appeared.

"Until now, Prince Darling," the fairy said sternly, "I have been very gentle with you. You have been very wicked, but I have done no more than warn you that you were doing wrong and becoming the very sort of man your father, the good King, wanted you NOT to be. Now I must take stronger measures, for you have paid no attention to my warnings.

"Really you are more like the wild animals than a man and a prince. You roar with anger like a lion. You are greedy for fine food and clothes and a good time, as a wolf is greedy for its prey. You are untrue to your friends, like a treacherous snake. You even turn upon the kind tutor who was your father's firmest friend, and who would like to help you, too, if you would let him. You are as disagreeable as an angry bull, that keeps everyone out of its neighborhood, because everyone knows it is not safe to go near."

The Fairy's voice now roared forth in terrible tones, which made Prince Darling shake from head to heel:

"Therefore, I condemn you to have a hideous body like your ugly character—part lion, part wolf, part snake, and part bull."

The Prince put his hand to his head, because he felt as if he should weep at this awful sentence. He found his face covered with a lion's shaggy beard; a bull's horns had grown out of his skull. He looked at his feet: they were those of a wolf. His body was the long slimy body of a snake.

The palace had disappeared, and he stood beside a clear lake in a deep forest. He shuddered with horror when he saw his reflection in the lake. His horror turned to rage when he heard the Fairy Truth say:

"Your punishment has just begun. Your pride will be hurt still more when you fall into the hands of your own subjects. And that is what is going to happen to you."

Just as the Fairy said the Prince fell into the hands of his subjects, and in a most humiliating way, for he was caught in a trap which had been set to catch bears. Thus he was captured alive and led into the chief city of the kingdom.

There was no mourning in the town because of the Prince's death, by a thunderbolt, as they supposed. Instead, there was great rejoicing, for Suliman had been made King by the people, who were sick and tired of the way Prince Darling had misruled them.

"Long live King Suliman!" they shouted. "His rule will bring us peace and prosperity."

In the middle of the public park sat King Suliman. Just as the Prince, in his ugly disguise came up, Suliman was saying:

"Prince Darling is not dead, as you suppose. I have accepted the crown only until he comes back, for the Fairy Truth says he may still return, a good and just man like his father. For myself, I want nothing more than to see Prince Darling come back a worthy ruler for this mighty kingdom."

This speech made the Prince feel very much ashamed of himself, for it showed plainly that the Fairy was right, and that he himself had misjudged Suliman.

Meantime the Prince was put in the menagerie, and people pointed him out as a most strange beast, the only one of his sort ever found anywhere. The Prince was beginning to feel like his old, gentle self. He was even good to his keeper, although the keeper was anything but good to him.

One day a tiger broke through his cage and attacked the keeper. At first the Prince was pleased to see the keeper in danger of his life, and mused: "When he's dead and out of the way I can easily escape."

But the Prince's punishment had not been in vain, for suddenly he began to think, "Well, the poor old keeper; after all I'm sorry for him!"

Then as if by magic the bars of the Prince's cage seemed to melt away, and he rushed out to rescue the keeper who had treated him so badly. The man was more terrified than ever when he saw the huge monster loose. But imagine his amazement when the beast fell upon the tiger, instead of crushing his (the keeper's) life out, as he had feared.

Naturally the keeper was filled with gratitude. The strange beast's kindness made him feel ashamed when he remembered how badly he had treated the animal.

The keeper now tried to stroke the beast's head, by way of gratitude, when to his amazement he found himself stroking, not a wild animal, but a gentle little dog.

The keeper picked up the dog in his arms and took him to the King, to whom he told the strange story of his rescue. The Queen liked the dog, and decided to keep him for a pet. Unluckily for Prince Darling, however, she took him to the court doctor, who decided that too much food would be very bad for the dog, and ordered that he be fed nothing but bread, and very little at that! So Prince Darling prized the small amount of bread he got very highly indeed.

Once Prince Darling trotted off with his little loaf of bread—all he would get to eat that day—to a brook some distance away. Strange to tell, the brook was gone, and in its place was a huge house. Prince Darling thought the persons who lived there must be fabulously rich, because the house was made of precious stones and gold, and the people were dressed in the most elegant and expensive clothes. He heard music, and saw people feasting and dancing.

Yet the people who came out of the house presented the most forlorn appearance—ragged, and sick, and half starved. Prince Darling saw a poor young girl, and his heart was filled with pity. She was eating grass and leaves, she was so hungry. Prince Darling was hungry himself, but he thought:

"I can't be as hungry as that poor girl, and to-morrow I'll have another loaf." So he gave the bread to her, and she ate it eagerly.

Suddenly there was a great outcry, and the Prince, running in the direction whence the noise came, saw Celia being dragged against her will into this mysterious house. The poor little dog could do nothing to help her. Then he thought sadly: "I am very angry now with these terrible people who treat Celia so badly; but not long ago I was myself threatening to have her killed!"

And the little dog, feeling quite forlorn, put its tail between its legs, as dogs often do, and went off to watch the house where Celia was imprisoned.

An upper window was opened, and a girl threw out some food. The dog thought this was because the girl had a kind heart. But when it started to eat, the one to whom it had given the bread but a short time before cried out: "Stop! If you touch that you will die! That food came from the house of pleasure, and is deadly poison."

So once again the Prince found that his good action had been rewarded. And the Fairy Truth, to show her approval, transformed the little dog into a lovely white dove.

The dove flew straight into the house of pleasure, searching for Celia. No sign of her could it find there, as she had escaped. Therefore it decided to fly and fly all around the world until it did get her.

One day it came to a desert island, where no living person could be seen, nor any green tree to light upon. It searched about, and after a time found a cavern, and in it was Celia, sharing a simple meal with an old hermit.

Prince Darling flew right up to Celia, lighted on her shoulder, and tried in all the ways a dove knows to show its affection for her. Celia in return stroked it gently, although she, of course, had no idea who it was. Indeed, Celia seemed delighted to have found a new friend, and said softly:

"I am glad you have come to me, and I will care for you and love you always."

Celia did not expect the dove to understand what she said. The hermit understood, however, and asked her whether she really meant it.

"Ah! Celia," Prince Darling exclaimed, "with my whole heart I hope you do mean it!" And the astonished Celia turned and saw Prince Darling himself standing before her.

"Celia will not stop loving you now, Prince Darling," said Fairy Truth, who had been disguised as the hermit all this time. "She has loved you from the beginning, and now that you have started on the road to goodness I know she will gladly join her fate with yours."

Then Celia and Prince Darling threw themselves at the Fairy's feet, and thanked her a thousand times over for bringing them together again after all their trials.

"Come, my children," said the Fairy, "if you had not helped me I could not have brought this to pass. And now, let's go back to Prince Darling's kingdom, for I know King Suliman is waiting eagerly for a chance to give back the throne."

The Fairy had scarcely stopped speaking when they found themselves in the royal palace. King Suliman was overjoyed to see the Prince return, and gladly yielded the throne to him again.

When the Prince was crowned King for the second time he also put on again the little gold ring which he had thrown away so long before. He and Celia gave their whole hearts to the effort to govern the kingdom justly and kindly. You will know that they succeeded very well, when I tell you that the magic ring never again pricked Prince Darling's finger.







RUMPELSTILTSKIN

ADAPTED FROM THE GRIMM BROTHERS

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away from here, there lived a miller who was very proud, and a King who was exceedingly fond of money.

The miller had a lovely daughter, and he could not say enough about her beauty and cleverness. He used to tell all the men who brought their wheat to his mill, to be ground into flour, of the wonderful things this daughter could do "to perfection."

One day, in a fit of boasting, the miller told the servant who had brought flour from the King's household, that he had a daughter who could actually turn straw into pure gold by spinning it.

The messenger was astonished, and could hardly wait to get back to the palace and see the King. He knew how mad the King was about money, and wanted to be the first to tell him of the miller's extraordinary daughter, who could make him vastly rich so easily.

The King was tremendously excited by the story, just as his servant had hoped. He sent at once for the miller.

"My man," the King said, "I hear you have a daughter who can spin straw into gold. That's a fine story, but you can hardly expect me to believe it without seeing it. Have your daughter come here this evening."

So the miller went home and told his daughter that the King wanted to see her. He dared not tell her why. Naturally, the girl was pleased and flattered. She put on her best dress and braided her hair very carefully. Then she went to the palace.

"So you're the miller's daughter," said the King. "Now we'll see whether you can really spin straw into gold."

The girl thought the King must be crazy. She felt even surer of it when he took her into a great room full of straw with a spinning wheel in one corner.

A spinning wheel, you know, is an old-fashioned machine for making flax and cotton into yarn and thread.

"If you don't spin all this straw into gold before the night is over, you will die," the King said, and closed the door.

The poor little miller's daughter sat down in front of the spinning wheel and cried and cried. She didn't know how to spin straw into gold any more than you or I do, and she didn't want to die a bit.

"Well, well, what's all this crying for?" said a tiny voice at her ear.

So many queer things had happened that night that it did not seem at all strange to have a man appear out of nowhere. He was not exactly a man, though. He was just a tiny little Dwarf. And the miller's daughter told him all her troubles.

"Why, that's nothing," the little man said; "I can spin that straw into gold myself. But I won't do it for nothing. What will you give me for doing it?"

The girl had a necklace she was very proud of. She hated to part with it, but she gave it to the little man. He sat promptly down at the spinning wheel, and in a jiffy the golden straws were flying through his hands, and turning into threads of pure gold. Long before daybreak the room was full of gold instead of straw.

Early in the morning the King came. He could hardly wait to learn whether the girl had done her difficult task. When he saw the room heaped with gold he fairly danced with joy, although that was not very dignified for a King. Having one room full of gold only made him want another. So he took the miller's daughter to a larger room, where there was even more straw. Once more he told her that if she wanted to live she must turn the straw to gold.

The little Dwarf helped her out again. This time she had to pay him with her ring.

In the morning, when the King saw all the gold, he was still not satisfied. He was getting rich so easily that he hated to stop. So he had the miller's daughter led to the largest room in the palace, and had it filled with straw for her to spin into gold.

This time, however, he told the girl that if she succeeded for the third time in her task she should become his wife. "She's only the poor miller's daughter," he said to himself, "but look how rich she is."

The girl was not surprised to see the Dwarf come in. He was quite disagreeable, though, when she said she had nothing to give him this time for spinning the gold.

"What!" he said, "have you no reward for me? Then you must promise me your first child after you become Queen."

There seemed nothing to do but to promise the little fellow what he asked. "Lots of things may happen before the promise is fulfilled," she thought.

So the straw was spun into gold, and the King was greatly pleased. Soon after this the miller's daughter became Queen.



A year passed, and the whole kingdom was celebrating the birth of a son to the King and Queen. The Queen was so happy about her child that she quite forgot the promise she had made to the manikin who had saved her life. But he had not forgotten.

"Give me that child," said he one day, appearing, as was his habit, out of nowhere. The Queen was frightened, yet refused to give up her child. She offered him anything else he would name, but the child he could never have.

"The child," he answered, "is the only thing I want." Yet he was sorry for the Queen.

"Well," he said finally, "I'll let you have the child for three days. If you can tell me my name before this time is up, you can keep your little one."

The Queen sent messengers to search the country and bring her all the unusual names they could discover.

After one day the manikin came back to find out whether his name had been discovered.

"Is your name Kasper, or Melchior, or Belshayzar?" the Queen asked in a worried manner.

"Oh, no!" the little fellow said to each name she suggested.

The second day the Queen tried him with some names she had made up herself. "Perhaps they call you Sheepshanks, or Cruickshanks, or Spindleshanks?" she suggested eagerly. But each time the manikin shook his head haughtily and answered, "No!"

The poor Queen was nearly crazy with worry on the third day, and the messengers could find no more queer names. One of them, however, told this story:

"I was drawing to the top of a high hill, and the road where I was riding went through a thick wood. Not a new name had I learned all day. But suddenly I came upon a hut, and before it was a big fire. A little man was hopping madly about the fire, and singing at the top of his voice:

"'Now a feast I must prepare, Of the finest royal fare. Soon the Queen must give her son To me, for I'm the lucky one. That Rumpelstiltskin is my name, She will never guess—the silly dame.'"

The Queen was so delighted she did not even mind being called silly. Soon the manikin came in.

"Well," he said defiantly, "I guess you don't know my name yet, do you? Remember, this is your last chance."

"Oh, dear," said the Queen, pretending to be very anxious. "Is it John?"

"No!" thundered the manikin. "Give me the child."

"Is it," the Queen asked softly, "by any chance Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Some witch has told you that! Some witch had told you that!" cried the little man; and he dashed his left foot in a rage so deep into the floor that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it out. Then he made the best of his way off, while everybody laughed at him for having had all his trouble for nothing.





RAPUNZEL, OR THE FAIR MAID WITH GOLDEN HAIR

BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

There were once a man and a woman who wished very much to have a little child. Now, these people had a small window in their cottage which looked out into a beautiful garden full of the most lovely flowers and vegetables. There was a high wall round it, but even had there not been no one would have ventured to enter the garden, because it belonged to a sorceress, whose power was so great that every one feared her.

One day the woman stood at the window looking into the garden, and she saw a bed which was planted full of most beautiful lettuces. As she looked at them she began to wish she had some to eat, but she could not ask for them.

Day after day her wish for these lettuces grew stronger, and the knowledge that she could not get them so worried her that at last she became so pale and thin that her husband was quite alarmed.

"What is the matter with you, dear wife?" he asked one day.

"Ah!" she said, "if I do not have some of that nice lettuce which grows in the garden behind our house, I feel that I shall die."

The husband, who loved his wife dearly, said to himself: "Rather than my wife should die, I will get some of this lettuce for her, cost what it may."

So in the evening twilight he climbed over the wall into the garden of the Witch, hastily gathered a handful of the lettuces, and brought them to his wife. She made a salad, and ate it with great eagerness.



It pleased her so much and tasted so good that, after two or three days had passed, she gave her husband no rest till he promised to get her some more. So again in the evening twilight he climbed the wall, but as he slid down into the garden on the other side he was terribly alarmed at seeing the Witch standing near him.

"How came you here?" she said with a fierce look. "You have climbed over the wall into my garden like a thief and stolen my lettuces; you shall pay dearly for this!"

"Ah!" replied the poor man, "let me entreat for mercy; I have only taken it in a case of extreme need. My wife has seen your lettuces from her window, and she wished for them so much that she said she should die if she could not have some of them to eat."

Then the Witch's anger cooled a little, and she replied: "If what you tell me is true, then I will give you full permission to take as many lettuces as you like, on one condition: you must give up to me the child which your wife may bring into the world. I will be very kind to it, and be as careful of it as a mother could be."

The husband in his alarm promised everything the Witch asked, and took away with him as many lettuces as his wife wanted.

Not many weeks after this the wife became the mother of a beautiful little girl, and in a short time the Witch appeared and claimed her according to the husband's promise. Thus they were obliged to give up their child, which she took away with her directly, and gave her the name of Letitia, but she was always called Lettice, after the name of the vegetable which grew in the garden.

Lettice was the most beautiful child under the sun, and as soon as she reached the age of twelve years the Witch locked her up in a tower that stood in a forest, and this tower had no steps, nor any entrance, excepting a little window. When the Witch, wished to visit Lettice, she would place herself under this window and sing:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Lettice had the most long and beautiful hair like spun-gold; and when she heard the voice of the Witch she would unbind her golden locks and let them fall loose over the window sill, from which they hung down to such a length that the Witch could draw herself up by them into the tower.

Two years passed in this manner, when it happened one day that the King's son rode through the forest. While passing near the tower he heard such a lovely song that he could not help stopping to listen. It was Lettice, who tried to lighten her solitude by the sound of her own sweet voice.

The King's son was very eager to obtain a glimpse of the singer, but he sought in vain for a door to the tower; there was not one to be found.

So he rode home, but the song had made such an impression on his heart that he went daily into the forest to listen. Once, while he stood behind a tree, he saw the Witch approach the tower, and heard her say:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Presently he saw a quantity of long golden hair hanging down low over the window sill, and the Witch climbing up by it.

"Oh!" said the young Prince, "if that is the ladder on which persons can mount and enter, I will take the first opportunity of trying my luck that way."

So on the following day, as it began to grow dark, he placed himself under the window, and cried:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Immediately the hair fell over the window, and the young Prince quickly climbed up and entered the room where the young maiden lived.

Lettice was dreadfully frightened at seeing a strange man come into the room through the window; but the King's son looked at her with such friendly eyes, and began to converse with her so kindly, that she soon lost all fear.

He told her that he had heard her singing, and that her song had excited such a deep emotion in his heart that he could not rest till he had seen her. On hearing this Lettice ceased to fear him, and they talked together for some time, till at length the Prince asked her if she would take him for a husband. For a time she hesitated, although she saw that he was young and handsome, and he had told her he was a prince.

At last she said to herself: "He will certainly love me better than old Mother Grethel does." So she placed her hand in his, and said: "I would willingly go with you and be your wife, but I do not know in the least how to get away from this place. Unless," she added, after a pause, "you will bring me every day some strong silk cord; then I will weave a ladder of it, and when it is finished I will descend upon it, and you shall take me away on your horse."

The Prince readily agreed to this, and promised to come and see her every evening till the ladder was finished, for the old Witch always came in the daytime.

The Witch had never seen the Prince; she knew nothing of his visits till one day Lettice said innocently: "I shall not have such a heavy weight as you to draw up much longer, Mother Grethel, for the King's son is coming very soon to fetch me away."

"You wicked child!" cried the Witch; "what do I hear you say? I thought I had hidden you from all the world, and now you have betrayed me!" In her wrath she caught hold of Lettice's beautiful hair, and struck her several times with her left hand. Then she seized a pair of scissors and cut Lettice's hair, while the beautiful locks, glistening like gold, fell to the ground. And she was so hard-hearted after this that she dragged poor Lettice out into the forest, to a wild and desert place, and left her there in sorrow and great distress.

On the same day on which the poor maiden had been exiled the Witch tied the locks of hair which she had cut off poor Lettice's golden head into a kind of tail, and hung it over the window sill.

In the evening the Prince came and cried:

"Lettice, Lettice, let down your hair, That I may climb without a stair."

Then the Witch let the hair down, and the King's son climbed up; but at the open window he found not his dear Lettice, but a wicked witch who looked at him with cruel and malicious eyes.

"Ah!" she cried with a sneer, "you are come to fetch your loving bride, I suppose; but the beautiful bird has flown from the nest, and will never sing any more. The cat has fetched it away, and she intends also to scratch your eyes out. To thee is Lettice lost; thou wilt never behold her again!"

The Prince felt almost out of his mind with grief as he heard this, and in his despair he sprang out of the tower window and fell among the thorns and brambles beneath. He certainly escaped with his life, but the thorns stuck into his eyes and blinded them. After this he wandered about the wood for days, eating only wild roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep for the loss of his beloved bride.

So wandered he for a whole year in misery, till at last he came upon the desert place where Lettice had been banished and lived in her sorrow.

As he drew near he heard a voice which he seemed to recognize, and advancing toward the sound came within sight of Lettice, who recognized him at once, with tears. Two of her tears fell on his eyes, and so healed and cleared them of the injury done by the thorns that he could soon see as well as ever. Then he traveled with her to his kingdom, and she became his wife, and the remainder of their days were spent in happiness and content.



SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED

BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

There was once a poor Widow, who lived alone in her hut with her two children, who were called Snow-White and Rose-Red, because they were like the flowers which bloomed on two rose-bushes which grew before the cottage. But they were two as pious, good, industrious, and amiable children as any that were in the world, only Snow-White was more quiet and gentle than Rose-Red. For Rose-Red would run and jump about the meadows, seeking flowers, and catching butterflies, while Snow-White sat at home helping her Mother to keep house, or reading to her, if there were nothing else to do.

The two children loved one another dearly, and always walked hand-in-hand when they went out together; and ever when they talked of it they agreed that they would never separate from each other, and that whatever one had the other should share. Often they ran deep into the forest and gathered wild berries; but no beast ever harmed them. For the hare would eat cauliflowers out of their hands, the fawn would graze at their side, the goats would frisk about them in play, and the birds remained perched on the boughs singing as if nobody were near.

No accidents ever befell them; and if they stayed late in the forest, and night came upon them, they used to lie down on the moss and sleep till morning; and because their Mother knew they would do so, she felt no concern about them. One time when they had thus passed the night in the forest, and the dawn of morning awoke them, they saw a beautiful Child dressed in shining white sitting near their couch. She got up and looked at them kindly, but without saying anything went into the forest; and when the children looked round they saw that where they had slept was close to the edge of a pit, into which they would have certainly fallen had they walked a couple of steps further in the dark.

Their Mother told them the figure they had seen was, doubtless, the good angel who watches over children.

Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their Mother's cottage so clean that it was a pleasure to enter it. Every morning in the summertime Rose-Red would first put the house in order, and then gather a nosegay for her Mother, in which she always placed a bud from each rose-tree. Every winter's morning Snow-White would light the fire and put the kettle on to boil, and, although the kettle was made of copper, it yet shone like gold, because it was scoured so well. In the evenings, when the flakes of snow were falling, the Mother would say, "Go, Snow-White, and bolt the door;" and then they used to sit down on the hearth, and the Mother would put on her spectacles and read out of a great book while her children sat spinning. By their side, too, lay a little lamb, and on a perch behind them a little white dove reposed with her head tucked under her wing.

One evening when they were thus sitting comfortably together, there came a knock at the door, as if somebody wished to come in. "Make haste, Rose-Red," cried her Mother; "make haste and open the door; perhaps there is some traveler outside who needs shelter."

So Rose-Red went and drew the bolt and opened the door, expecting to see some poor man outside; but instead, a great fat bear poked his black head in. Rose-Red shrieked out and ran back, the little lamb bleated, the dove fluttered on her perch, and Snow-White hid herself behind her Mother's bed. The Bear, however, began to speak, and said, "Be not afraid, I will do you no harm; but I am half frozen, and wish to come in and warm myself."

"Poor Bear!" cried the Mother; "come in and lie down before the fire; but take care you do not burn your skin;" and then she continued, "Come here, Rose-Red and Snow-White, the Bear will not harm you, he means honorably." So they both came back, and by degrees the lamb too and the dove overcame their fears and welcomed the rough visitor.

"You children!" said the Bear, before he entered, "come and knock the snow off my coat." And they fetched their brooms and swept him clean. Then he stretched himself before the fire and grumbled out his satisfaction, and in a little while the children became familiar enough to play tricks with the unwieldy animal. They pulled his long shaggy skin, set their feet upon his back and rolled him to and fro, and even ventured to beat him with a hazel-stick, laughing when he grumbled. The Bear bore all their tricks good-temperedly, and if they hit too hard he cried out,—

"Leave me my life, you children, Snow-White and Rose-Red, Or you'll never wed."

When bedtime came and the others were gone, the Mother said to the Bear, "You may sleep here on the hearth if you like, and then you will be safely protected from the cold and bad weather."

As soon as day broke the two children let the Bear out again, and he trotted away over the snow, and ever afterward he came every evening at a certain hour. He would lie down on the hearth and allow the children to play with him as much as they liked, till by degrees they became so accustomed to him that the door was left unbolted till their black friend arrived.

But as soon as spring returned, and everything out of doors was green again, the Bear one morning told Snow-White that he must leave her, and could not return during the whole summer. "Where are you going, then, dear Bear?" asked Snow-White. "I am obliged to go into the forest and guard my treasures from the evil Dwarfs; for in winter, when the ground is hard, they are obliged to keep in their holes and cannot work through; but now, since the sun has thawed the earth and warmed it, the Dwarfs pierce through and steal all they can find; and what has once passed into their hands, and gets concealed by them in their caves, is not easily brought to light."

Snow-White, however, was very sad at the departure of the Bear, and opened the door so hesitatingly, that when he pressed through it he left behind on the latch a piece of his hairy coat; and through the hole which was made in his coat Snow-White fancied she saw the glittering of gold, but she was not quite certain of it. The Bear, however, ran hastily away, and was soon hidden behind the trees.

Some time afterward the Mother sent the children into the woods to gather sticks, and while doing so they came to a tree which was lying across the path, on the trunk of which something kept bobbing up and down from the grass, and they could not imagine what it was. When they came nearer they saw a Dwarf, with an old wrinkled face and a snow-white beard a yard long. The end of this beard was fixed in a split of the tree, and the little man kept jumping about like a dog tied by a chain, for he did not know how to free himself. He glared at the Maidens with his red, fiery eyes, and exclaimed, "Why do you stand there? Are you going to pass without offering me any assistance?"

"What have you done, little man?" asked Rose-Red.

"You stupid, gazing goose!" exclaimed he, "I wanted to have split the tree in order to get a little wood for my kitchen, for the little food which we use is soon burnt up with great faggots, not like what you rough greedy people devour! I had driven the wedge in properly, and everything was going on well, when the smooth wood flew upward, and the tree closed so suddenly together, that I could not draw my beautiful beard out; and here it sticks, and I cannot get away. There, don't laugh, you milk-faced things! Are you dumbfounded?"

The children took all the pains they could to pull the Dwarf's beard out, but without success. "I will run and fetch some help," cried Rose-Red at length.

"Crack-brained sheep's-head that you are!" snarled the Dwarf; "what are you going to call other people for? You are two too many now for me; can you think of nothing else?"

"Don't be impatient," replied Snow-White: "I have thought of something;" and pulling her scissors out of her pocket, she cut off the end of the beard. As soon as the Dwarf found himself at liberty he snatched up his sack, which laid between the roots of the tree filled with gold, and, throwing it over his shoulder, marched off, grumbling, and groaning, and crying "Stupid people! to cut off a piece of my beautiful beard. Plague take you!" And away he went without once looking at the children.

Some time afterward Snow-White and Rose-Red went a-fishing and as they neared the pond they saw something like a great locust hopping about on the bank, as if going to jump into the water. They ran up and recognized the Dwarf; "What are you after?" asked Rose-Red; "you will fall into the water."

"I am not quite such a simpleton as that," replied the Dwarf; "but do you not see this fish will pull me in?"

The little man had been sitting there angling, and, unfortunately, the wind had entangled his beard with the fishing-line; and so when a great fish bit at the bait, the strength of the weak little fellow was not able to draw it out, and the fish had the best of the struggle. The Dwarf held on by the reeds and rushes which grew near, but to no purpose, for the fish pulled him where it liked, and he must soon have been drawn into the pond. Luckily just then the two Maidens arrived, and tried to release the beard of the Dwarf from the fishing-line, but both were too closely entangled for it to be done. So the Maiden pulled out her scissors again and cut off another piece of the beard.

When the Dwarf saw this done he was in a great rage, and exclaimed, "You donkey! that is the way to disfigure my face. Was it not enough to cut it once, but you must now take away the best part of my fine beard? I dare not show myself again now to my own people. I wish you had run the soles off your boots before you had come here!" So saying he took up a bag of pearls, which lay among the rushes, and, without speaking another word, slipped off and disappeared behind a stone.

Not many days after this adventure, it chanced that the Mother sent the two Maidens to the next town to buy thread, needles and pins, laces, and ribbons. Their road passed over a common, on which, here and there, great pieces of rock were lying about. Just over their heads they saw a great bird flying round and round, and every now and then dropping lower and lower, till at last it flew down behind a rock. Immediately afterward they heard a piercing shriek, and, running up, they saw with affright that the eagle had caught their old acquaintance, the Dwarf, and was trying to carry him off. The compassionate children thereupon laid hold of the little man, and held him fast till the bird gave up the struggle and flew off.

As soon, then, as the Dwarf had recovered from his fright, he exclaimed in his squeaking voice:

"Could you not hold me more gently? You have seized my fine brown coat in such a manner that it is all torn and full of holes, meddling and interfering rubbish that you are!" With these words he shouldered a bag filled with precious stones, and slipped away to his cave among the rocks.

The Maidens were now accustomed to his ingratitude, and so they walked on to the town and transacted their business there. Coming home they returned over the same common, and unawares walked up to a certain clean spot, on which the Dwarf had shaken out his bag of precious stones, thinking nobody was near. The sun was shining and the bright stones glittered in its beams, and displayed such a variety of colors that the two Maidens stopped to admire them.



"What are you standing there gaping for?" asked the Dwarf, while his face grew as red as copper with rage: he was continuing to abuse the poor Maidens, when a loud roaring noise was heard, and presently a great black Bear came rolling out of the forest. The Dwarf jumped up terrified, but he could not gain his retreat before the Bear overtook him. Thereupon he cried out, "Spare me, my dear Lord Bear! I will give you all my treasures. See these beautiful precious stones which lie here; only give me my life; for what have you to fear from a little fellow like me? You could not touch me with your big teeth. There are two wicked girls, take them; they would make nice morsels; as fat as young quails; eat them, for heaven's sake!"

The Bear, however, without troubling himself to speak, gave the bad-hearted Dwarf a single blow with his paw, and he never stirred after.

The Maidens were then going to run away, but the Bear called after them, "Snow-White and Rose-Red, fear not! Wait a bit, and I will accompany you." They recognized his voice and stopped; and when the Bear came, his rough coat suddenly fell off, and he stood up a tall man, dressed entirely in gold. "I am a King's son," he said, "and was condemned by the wicked Dwarf, who stole all my treasures, to wander about in this forest in the form of a bear till his death released me."

Then they went home, and Snow-White was married to the Prince, and Rose-Red to his brother, with whom they shared the immense treasure which the Dwarf had collected. The old Mother also lived for many years happily with her two children; and the rose-trees which had stood before the cottage were planted now before the palace, and produced every year beautiful red and white roses.



HANSEL AND GRETHEL

BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM

Once upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor wood-cutter, with his wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called Hansel, and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or bite; and once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could not procure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one evening, rolling about for trouble, he sighed, and said to his wife, "What will become of us? How can we feed our children, when we have no more than we can eat ourselves?"

"Know, then, my husband," answered she, "we will lead them away, quite early in the morning, into the thickest part of the wood, and there make them a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread; then we will go to our work, and leave them alone, so they will not find the way home again, and we shall be freed from them." "No, wife," replied he, "that I can never do;, how can you bring your heart to leave my children all alone in the wood; for the wild beasts will soon come and tear them to pieces?"

"Oh, you simpleton!" said she, "then we must all four die of hunger; you had better plane the coffins for us." But she left him no peace till he consented, saying, "Ah, but I shall regret the poor children."

The two children, however, had not gone to sleep for very hunger, and so they overheard what the stepmother said to their father. Grethel wept bitterly, and said to Hansel, "What will become of us?" "Be quiet, Grethel," said he; "do not cry—I will soon help you." And as soon as their parents had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his coat, and, unbarring the back door, slipped out. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay before the door seemed like silver pieces, they glittered so brightly. Hansel stooped down, and put as many into his pocket as it would hold; and then going back he said to Grethel, "Be comforted, dear sister, and sleep in peace; God will not forsake us." And so saying, he went to bed again.

The next morning, before the sun arose, the wife went and awoke the two children. "Get up, you lazy things; we are going into the forest to chop wood." Then she gave them each a piece of bread, saying, "There is something for your dinner; do not eat it before the time, for you will get nothing else." Grethel took the bread in her apron, for Hansel's pocket was full of pebbles; and so they all set out upon their way. When they had gone a little distance, Hansel stood still, and peeped back at the house; and this he repeated several times, till his father said, "Hansel, what are you peeping at, and why do you lag behind? Take care, and remember your legs."

"Ah, father," said Hansel, "I am looking at my white cat sitting upon the roof of the house, and trying to say good-by." "You simpleton!" said the wife, "that is not a cat; it is only the sun shining on the white chimney." But in reality Hansel was not looking at a cat; but every time he stopped, he dropped a pebble out of his pocket upon the path.



When they came to the middle of the wood, the father told the children to collect wood, and he would make them a fire, so that they should not be cold. So Hansel and Grethel gathered together quite a little mountain of twigs. Then they set fire to them; and as the flame burnt up high, the wife said, "Now, you children, lie down near the fire, and rest yourselves, whilst we go into the forest and chop wood; when we are ready, I will come and call you."

Hansel and Grethel sat down by the fire, and when it was noon, each ate the piece of bread; and because they could hear the blows of an axe they thought their father was near; but it was not an axe, but a branch which he had bound to a withered tree, so as to be blown to and fro by the wind. They waited so long, that at last their eyes closed from weariness, and they fell fast asleep. When they awoke, it was quite dark, and Grethel began to cry, "How shall we get out of the wood?" But Hansel tried to comfort her by saying, "Wait a little while till the moon rises, and then we will quickly find the way." The moon soon shone forth, and Hansel, taking his sister's hand, followed the pebbles, which glittered like new-coined silver pieces, and showed them the path. All night long they walked on, and as day broke they came to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and when the wife opened it, and saw Hansel and Grethel, she exclaimed, "You wicked children! why did you sleep so long in the wood? We thought you were never coming home again." But their father was very glad, for it had grieved his heart to leave them all alone.

Not long afterward there was again great scarcity in every corner of the land; and one night the children overheard their mother saying to their father, "Everything is again consumed; we have only half a loaf left, and then the song is ended: the children must be sent away. We will take them deeper into the wood, so that they may not find the way out again: it is the only means of escape for us."

But her husband felt heavy at heart, and thought, "It were better to share the last crust with the children." His wife, however, would listen to nothing that he said, and scolded and reproached him without end.

He who says A must say B too; and he who consents the first time must also the second.

The children, however, had heard the conversation as they lay awake, and as soon as the old people went to sleep Hansel got up, intending to pick up some pebbles as before; but the wife had locked the door, so that he could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted Grethel, saying, "Do not cry; sleep in quiet; the good God will not forsake us."

Early in the morning the stepmother came and pulled them out of bed, and gave them each a slice of bread, which was still smaller than the former piece. On the way, Hansel broke his in his pocket, and, stooping every now and then, dropped a crumb upon the path. "Hansel, why do you stop and look about?" said the father, "keep in the path." "I am looking at my little dove," answered Hansel, "nodding a good-by to me." "Simpleton!" said the wife, "that is no dove, but only the sun shining on the chimney." But Hansel still kept dropping crumbs as he went along.

The mother led the children deep into the wood, where they had never been before, and there making an immense fire, she said to them, "Sit down here and rest, and when you feel tired you can sleep for a little while. We are going into the forest to hew wood, and in the evening, when we are ready, we will come and fetch you."

When noon came Grethel shared her bread with Hansel, who had strewn his on the path. Then they went to sleep; but the evening arrived and no one came to visit the poor children, and in the dark night they awoke, and Hansel comforted his sister by saying, "Only wait, Grethel, till the moon comes out, then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have dropped, and they will show us the way home." The moon shone and they got up, but they could not see any crumbs, for the thousands of birds which had been flying about in the woods and fields had picked them all up. Hansel kept saying to Grethel, "We will soon find the way;" but they did not, and they walked the whole night long and the next day, but still they did not come out of the wood; and they got so hungry, for they had nothing to eat but the berries which they found upon the bushes. Soon they got so tired that they could not drag themselves along, so they lay down under a tree and went to sleep.

It was now the third morning since they had left their father's house, and they still walked on; but they only got deeper and deeper into the wood, and Hansel saw that if help did not come very soon they would die of hunger. As soon as it was noon they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting upon a bough, which sang so sweetly that they stood still and listened to it. It soon left off, and spreading its wings flew off; and they followed it until it arrived at a cottage, upon the roof of which it perched; and when they went close up to it they saw that the cottage was made of bread and cakes, and the window-panes were of clear sugar.

"We will go in here," said Hansel, "and have a glorious feast. I will eat a piece of the roof, and you can eat the window. Will they not be sweet?" So Hansel reached up and broke a piece off the roof, in order to see how it tasted; while Grethel stepped up to the window and began to bite it. Then a sweet voice called out in the room, "Tip-tap, tip-tap, who raps at my door?" and the children answered, "The wind, the wind, the child of heaven;" and they went on eating without interruption. Hansel thought the roof tasted very nice, and so he tore off a great piece; while Grethel broke a large round pane out of the window, and sat down quite contentedly. Just then the door opened, and a very old woman, walking upon crutches, came out. Hansel and Grethel were so frightened that they let fall what they had in their hands; but the old woman, nodding her head, said "Ah, you dear children, what has brought you here? Come in and stop with me, and no harm shall befall you;" and so saying she led them into her cottage. A good meal of milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts was spread on the table, and in the back room were two nice little beds, covered with white, where Hansel and Grethel laid themselves down, and thought themselves in heaven. The old woman behaved very kindly to them, but in reality she was a wicked witch who waylaid children and built the breadhouse in order to entice them in; but as soon as they were in her power she killed them, cooked and ate them, and made a great festival of the day. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see very far; but they have a fine sense of smelling, like wild beasts, so that they know when children approach them. When Hansel and Grethel came near the witch's house she laughed wickedly, saying, "Here come two who shall not escape me." And early in the morning, before they awoke, she went up to them, and saw how lovingly they lay sleeping, with their chubby red cheeks; and she mumbled to herself, "That will be a good bite." Then she took up Hansel with her rough hand, and shut him up in a little cage with a lattice-door; and although he screamed loudly it was of no use. Grethel came next, and, shaking her till she awoke, she said, "Get up, you lazy thing, and fetch some water to cook something good for your brother, who must remain in that stall and get fat; when he is fat enough I shall eat him." Grethel began to cry, but it was all useless, for the old witch made her do as she wished. So a nice meal was cooked for Hansel, but Grethel got nothing else but a crab's claw.

Every morning the old witch came to the cage and said, "Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may feel whether you are getting fat." But Hansel used to stretch out a bone, and the old woman, having very bad sight, thought it was his finger, and wondered very much that he did not get more fat. When four weeks had passed, and Hansel still kept quite lean, she lost all her patience, and would not wait any longer. "Grethel," she called out in a passion, "get some water quickly; be Hansel fat or lean, this morning I will kill and cook him." Oh, how the poor little sister grieved, as she was forced to fetch the water, and fast the tears ran down her cheeks! "Dear good God, help us now!" she exclaimed. "Had we only been eaten by the wild beasts in the wood, then we should have died together." But the old witch called out, "Leave off that noise; it will not help you a bit."

So early in the morning Grethel was forced to go out and fill the kettle, and make a fire. "First, we will bake, however," said the old woman; "I have already heated the oven and kneaded the dough;" and so saying, she pushed poor Grethel up to the oven, out of which the flames were burning fiercely. "Creep in," said the witch, "and see if it is hot enough, and then we will put in the bread;" but she intended when Grethel got in to shut up the oven and let her bake, so that she might eat her as well as Hansel. Grethel perceived what her thoughts were, and said, "I do not know how to do it; how shall I get in?" "You stupid goose," said she, "the opening is big enough. See, I could even get in myself!" and she got up, and put her head into the oven. Then Grethel gave her a push, so that she fell right in, and then shutting the iron door she bolted it. Oh! how horribly she howled; but Grethel ran away, and left the ungodly witch to burn to ashes.



Now she ran to Hansel, and, opening his door, called out, "Hansel, we are saved; the old witch is dead." So he sprang out, like a bird out of his cage when the door is opened; and they were so glad that they fell upon each other's neck, and kissed each other over and over again. And now, as there was nothing to fear, they went into the witch's house, where in every corner were caskets full of pearls and precious stones. "These are better than pebbles," said Hansel, putting as many into his pocket as it would hold; while Grethel thought, "I will take some home too," and filled her apron full. "We must be off now," said Hansel, "and get out of this enchanted forest;" but when they had walked for two hours they came to a large piece of water. "We cannot get over," said Hansel; "I can see no bridge at all." "And there is no boat either," said Grethel, "but there swims a white duck, I will ask her to help us over;" and she sang:

"Little Duck, good little duck, Grethel and Hansel, here we stand; There is neither stile nor bridge, Take us on your back to land."

So the Duck came to them, and Hansel sat himself on, and bade his sister sit behind him. "No," answered Grethel, "that will be too much for the Duck, she shall take us over one at a time." This the good little bird did, and when both were happily arrived on the other side, and had gone a little way, they came to a well-known wood, which they knew the better every step they went, and at last they perceived their father's house. Then they began to run, and, bursting into the house, they fell on their father's neck. He had not had one happy hour since he had left the children in the forest: and his wife was dead. Grethel shook her apron, and the pearls and precious stones rolled out upon the floor, and Hansel threw down one handful after the other out of his pocket. Then all their sorrows were ended, and they lived in happiness.

My tale is done. There runs a mouse; whoever catches her may make a great, great cap out of her fur.









THE FLAG-BEARER

BY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY

The primary class had a very beautiful American flag, and some child was going to carry it from the schoolroom across the park and into the Town Hall on the holiday. All the primary children would march after the flag, and they were going to sing "America" and "The Star Spangled Banner." It would be a wonderful day and each child wanted to carry the flag.

No one was sure who would be chosen as flag-bearer, but their teacher had said the week before: "It will be the child who loves his country the most who will carry the Stars and Stripes. Try and do something for your country during the week."

So the children had been very busy ever since doing all sorts of things that would show how they loved their country.

Marjory had been knitting for soldiers. Her grandmother had given her a pair of pretty yellow needles and a ball of soft gray yarn and had started a scarf. But the stitches would drop, and there was still enough snow for sliding on the hill back of Marjory's house. Her knitting was not much further along on Saturday than on Monday.

"I will show how much I love my country," Hubert said, and he asked his mother to take the gilt buttons from his great-grandfather's soldier coat that hung in the attic and sew them on his reefer. Then he showed the bright buttons to all the other children, and they thought that Hubert looked very fine indeed.

"I shall wear them when I carry the flag next week," Hubert told them.

But the children thought that perhaps Roger would be chosen as flag-bearer because he bought such a large flag with the money in his bank, and put it up on the flagpole in his front yard. Roger's father helped him raise the flag on a rope so that he could pull it down at night, but once the Stars and Stripes were flying Roger forgot all about them. His flag stayed out in the wind and sleet, and its bright colors faded and the stripes were torn.

After all, the children decided, it would be Edward who would carry the flag. Edward had a dog named Trusty, and he decided to train him to be a Red Cross dog. He put a white band with a red cross on it around Trusty and harnessed him to a little express wagon to carry bundles. Trusty had never worn a harness in his life, or been fastened to anything. He tried to get away from the wagon, but Edward strapped the harness more tightly. The straps hurt Trusty, and it hurt his feelings to be made to drag the cart; but Edward drove him to and from the drug-store and the grocery and the butcher's, carrying the parcels that Edward had always brought alone before.

The other children, too, all tried to do unusual things to win themselves the place of flag-bearer. They played their drums in the street and made soldier caps and wooden swords and drilled. The little girls dressed up and played army nurse with their dolls. The boys bought toy soldiers and horns at the toy shop. There was a great deal of noise everywhere.

Then it was the holiday, and everyone was greatly excited over what was going to happen. Whoever had a red ribbon, or a blue necktie, or a red-white-and-blue badge felt very proud indeed to wear it. Every child sat as still as a mouse as the teacher spoke to them.

"Marjory showed me five rows that she had knitted for a soldier when I went to her house a few days ago," she said. "I wonder how many rows she has finished now?"

"Only five," Marjory said softly.

Hubert touched the buttons on his reefer and sat up very straight in his place.

"I am wearing my great-grandfather's soldier buttons," he said.

"That ought to make you feel as brave as he was, when he earned the right to wear them in battle," the teacher said; and Hubert suddenly thought that gilt buttons had not made him into a soldier at all.

The other children began to think, too, as they looked up at the Stars and Stripes at the end of the room. Edward remembered how the harness had hurt Trusty, and the boy with the drum remembered how he had awakened the baby from her nap. Roger thought of his torn flag, flapping in the wind on the top of the flagpole. No one said anything until the teacher looked at the end of the class and smiled, and said:

"Well, Peter!"

Peter smiled back, and tried to cover up the holes in his jacket sleeves, and tucked his old shoes under the seat. Peter's father had gone to be a soldier, and there were his mother, and the two babies, and his grandfather who was blind, at home.

"What have you been doing all the week, Peter?" the teacher asked.

"Tending the babies so that mother could go to the factory and sew the soldiers' uniforms," Peter said. "And leading grandfather out for a walk when it was a sunny day."

"Peter's got a little flag hanging out of the window," one of the children said, "and he's so careful of it. He takes it in every night and puts it out again in the morning."

"He saluted the flag and took off his hat to it when the parade went by the other day," said another child. Everyone loved merry, ragged Peter, who could play so gayly when he had time for a game.

Just then they heard the band outside. It was playing, "The Red, White and Blue," the music to which the children were to march with the flag.

"Who shall be our flag-bearer?" the teacher asked.

The children knew now. They were quite sure.

"Peter!" they said.

So Peter carried the Stars and Stripes across the park and into the Town Hall, with all the primary children marching like soldiers behind. The wind blew it around him like a cloak to cover up the holes in his jacket sleeves and his old shoes. Wherever he looked he could see the colors; the sky was as blue as the field in the flag, a few snow stars lay on the ground and the first robin redbreast sang on a branch over his head. And the children following Peter knew what the colors told them to do for their country—to be brave, and good, and true at home.



JOHNNY CHUCK FINDS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD[A]

BY THORNTON W. BURGESS

Old Mother West Wind had stopped to talk with the Slender Fir Tree.

"I've just come across the Green Meadows," said Old Mother West Wind, "and there I saw the Best Thing in the World."

Striped Chipmunk was sitting under the Slender Fir Tree, and he couldn't help hearing what Old Mother West Wind said. "The Best Thing in the World—now what can that be?" thought Striped Chipmunk. "Why, it must be heaps and heaps of nuts and acorns! I'll go and find it."

So Striped Chipmunk started down the Lone Little Path through the wood as fast as he could run. Pretty soon he met Peter Rabbit.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Striped Chipmunk?" asked Peter Rabbit.

"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World," replied Striped Chipmunk, and ran faster.

"The Best Thing in the World," said Peter Rabbit, "why, that must be a great pile of carrots and cabbage! I think I'll go and find it."

So Peter Rabbit started down the Lone Little Path through the wood as fast as he could go after Striped Chipmunk.

As they passed the great hollow tree Bobby Coon put his head out. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" asked Bobby Coon.

"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World!" shouted Striped Chipmunk and Peter Rabbit, and both began to run faster.

"The Best Thing in the World," said Bobby Coon to himself; "why, that must be a whole field of sweet milky corn. I think I'll go and find it."

So Bobby Coon climbed down out of the great hollow tree and started down the Lone Little Path through the wood as fast as he could go after Striped Chipmunk and Peter Rabbit, for there is nothing that Bobby Coon likes to eat so well as sweet milky corn.

At the edge of the wood they met Jimmy Skunk.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" asked Jimmy Skunk.

"Down in the Green Meadows to find the Best Thing in the World!" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon. Then they all tried to run faster.

"The Best Thing in the World," said Jimmy Skunk. "Why, that must be packs and packs of beetles!" And for once in his life Jimmy Skunk began to hurry down the Lone Little Path after Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon.

They were all running so fast that they didn't see Reddy Fox until he jumped out of the long grass and asked:

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"To find the Best Thing in the World!" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, and each did his best to run faster.

"The Best Thing in the World," said Reddy Fox to himself, "why, that must be a whole pen full of tender young chickens, and I must have them."

So away went Reddy Fox as fast as he could run down the Lone Little Path after Striped Chipmunk, Peter Rabbit, Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk.

By-and-by they all came to the house of Johnny Chuck.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" asked Johnny Chuck.

"To find the Best Thing in the World," shouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, and Reddy Fox.

"The Best Thing in the World," said Johnny Chuck. "Why, I don't know of anything better than my own little home, and the warm sunshine, and the beautiful blue sky."

So Johnny Chuck stayed at home and played all day among the flowers with the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind, and was as happy as could be.

But all day long Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Reddy Fox, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, ran this way and ran that way over the Green Meadows trying to find the Best Thing in the World. The sun was very, very warm, and they ran so far and ran so fast that they were very, very hot and tired, and still they hadn't found the Best Thing in the World.

When the long day was over they started up the Lone Little Path past Johnny Chuck's house to their own homes. They didn't hurry now, for they were so very, very tired! And they were cross—oh, so cross!

Striped Chipmunk hadn't found so much as the leaf of a cabbage. Bobby Coon hadn't found the tiniest bit of sweet milky corn. Jimmy Skunk hadn't seen a single beetle. Reddy Fox hadn't heard so much as the peep of a chicken. And all were hungry as hungry could be.

Half way up the Lone Little Path they met Old Mother West Wind going to her home behind the hill. "Did you find the Best Thing in the World?" asked Old Mother West Wind.

"No!" shouted Striped Chipmunk, and Peter Rabbit, and Bobby Coon, and Jimmy Skunk, and Reddy Fox, all together.

"Johnny Chuck has it," said Old Mother West Wind. "It is being happy with the things you have, and not wanting things which some one else has. And it is called Con-tent-ment."

[A] From "Old Mother West Wind," by Thornton W. Burgess; used by permission of the author and the publishers, Little, Brown & Company.



LITTLE WEE PUMPKIN'S THANKSGIVING[B]

BY MADGE A. BINGHAM

It was the night before Thanksgiving in Peter Pumpkin-eater's garden. Great Big Pumpkin, Middle-Sized Pumpkin, and Little Wee Pumpkin were speaking together.

"All here?" asked Great Big Pumpkin.

"I'm here," answered Middle-Sized Pumpkin.

"I'm here," answered Little Wee Pumpkin. "But I heard Peter say that he would pull us to-morrow and send us away."

"That will be fine!" said Great Big Pumpkin. "I hope we shall make good pies for some one's dinner. I wish we could go to the palace."

"So do I," said Middle-Sized Pumpkin. "Maybe we could see the King."

"I should like to see Cinderella," said Little Wee Pumpkin. "But I am not large enough to go to the palace. Still, I wish I could make some one glad on Thanksgiving Day."

Little Wee Pumpkin was the first to wake in the morning. Peter had opened the garden gate, and Cinderella was walking into the garden.

Little Wee Pumpkin opened her eyes and listened.

Cinderella was beautiful, and Little Wee Pumpkin knew that she was good and kind. She was carrying a basket full of yellow flowers.

"They are for you, Peter," she said, laughing. "I have brought them from the palace garden. They are for your Thanksgiving.

"Now you must help me find the right pumpkin for a jack-o'-lantern. It is to make a little girl glad. She has been ill a long time, and must have a jack-o'-lantern for Thanksgiving."

"Yes, my lady," said Peter; and they went from vine to vine.

First, they stopped at Great Big Pumpkin, but that was too large. Then they stopped at Middle-Sized Pumpkin, but that was too flat. Then they stopped at Little Wee Pumpkin, and that was just right.

"This is the pumpkin for the jack-o'-lantern, Peter," she said, pointing to Little Wee Pumpkin. "This will make the little girl glad."

"Yes, my lady," said Peter, as he pulled Little Wee Pumpkin from the vine.

"The two large pumpkins shall go to the palace, to the King," said Cinderella. "They will make fine pies for his Thanksgiving dinner."

"Yes, my lady," said Peter, as he pulled the two pumpkins from the vines.

So Great Big, Middle-Sized, and Little Wee all had their wishes.

[B] From "Mother Goose Village," by Madge A. Bingham, published by Rand, McNally & Company, and used by special arrangement.



THE COMING OF THE KING[C]

BY LAURA E. RICHARDS

Some children were at play in their playground one day when a herald rode through the town, blowing a trumpet, and crying aloud: "The King! The King passes by this road to-day!"

"Did you hear that?" they said. "The King is coming. He may look over the wall and see our playground: who knows? We must put it in order."

The playground was sadly dirty, and in the corners were scraps of paper and broken toys—for these were careless children! But now, one brought a hoe, and another a rake, and a third ran to fetch the wheelbarrow from behind the garden gate. They labored hard, till at length all was clean and tidy.

"Now it is clean!" they said; "but we must make it pretty, too, for kings are used to fine things; maybe he would not notice mere cleanness, for he may have it all the time."

Then one brought sweet rushes and strewed them on the ground; and others made garlands of oak leaves and pine tassels and hung them on the walls; and the littlest one pulled marigold buds and threw them all about the playground.

When all was done the playground was so beautiful that the children stood and looked at it, and clapped their hands with pleasure.

"Let us keep it always like this!" said the littlest one; and the others cried: "Yes! yes!"

They waited all day for the coming of the King, but he did not come; only, toward sunset, a man with travel-worn clothes, and a kind, tired face passed along the road, and stopped to look over the wall.

"What a pleasant place!" said the man. "May I come in and rest, dear children?"

The children brought him in gladly, and set him on the seat that they had made out of an old cask. They had covered it with an old red cloak, to make it look like a throne; and it made a very good one.

"It is our playground!" they said. "We made it pretty for the King, but he did not come, and now we mean to keep it so for ourselves."

"That is good!" said the man.

"Because we think pretty and clean is nicer than ugly and dirty!" said another.

"That is better!" said the man.

"And for tired people to rest in!" said the littlest one.

"That is best of all!" said the man.

He sat and rested, and looked at the children with such kind eyes that they came about him, and told him all they knew; about the five puppies in the barn, and the thrush's nest with four blue eggs, and the shore where the gold shells grew: and the man nodded, and understood all about it.

By-and-by he asked for a cup of water, and they brought it to him in the best cup, with the gold sprigs on it, then he thanked the children, and rose and went on his way; but before he went he laid his hand on their heads for a moment, and the touch went warm to their hearts.

The children stood by the wall and watched the man as he went slowly along. The sun was setting, and the light fell in long slanting rays across the road.

"He looks so tired!" said one of the children.

"But he was so kind!" said another.

"See!" said the littlest one. "How the sun shines on his hair! it looks like a crown of gold."

[C] From "The Golden Windows," by Laura E. Richards; published by Little, Brown & Company, Boston. Used by permission of the publishers.





THE LITTLE PIG[D]

BY MAUD LINDSAY

Once upon a time a little black-and-white pig with a curly tail went out to take a morning walk. He intended to go to the Mud Puddle, but before he got there he came to a garden gate that was stretched wide open.

"Umph, umph," said the little pig, when he saw it; "isn't this fine? I have wanted to get into this garden ever since I can remember." And in he went as fast as his four short legs could carry him.

The garden was full of flowers. There were pansies, and daisies, and violets, and honeysuckles, and all the bright flowers that you can name. Everything was in the proper place. There were tulips on either side of the garden walk, and hollyhocks stood in a straight row against the fence. The pansies had a garden bed all to themselves, and the young vines were just beginning to climb up on the frame that the gardener had made for their special benefit.

"Umph, umph, nice place," said the little pig; and he put his nose down in the pansy bed and began to root up the pansies, for he thought that was the way to behave in a garden.

While he was enjoying himself there the brown hen came down the road with her family. She had thirteen children, and she was looking for a nice rich spot where they might scratch for their breakfast. When she saw the open gate she was delighted.

"Cluck, cluck, come on," she said to her chicks.

"Peep, peep, peep," said the little chickens, "is it a worm?"

"It is a beautiful garden, and there is nothing that I like better than to scratch in a garden," answered the hen, as she bustled through the gate. The chickens followed her, and soon they were all busy scratching among the violets.

They had not been there very long when the red cow walked by the garden. She was on her way to the Pond, but when she saw the open garden gate she decided at once to go in.

"Moo, moo," she said, "this is delightful. Tender flowers are such a treat." And she swished her tail over her back as she nipped the daisies from their stems.

"Cluck," said the hen, "Peep," said the chicks, "Umph," said the little pig, for they were pleased to have company. While they were talking a rabbit with very bright eyes peeped in at the gate.

"Oh, is it a party?" he said when he saw the red cow, and the pig with a curly tail, and the hen and chickens.

"Come in," said the pig, "and help yourself. There is plenty of room." So the rabbit hopped into the garden and nibbled the green leaves and the young vines.

"How many of us are here?" asked the red cow, but before any of them could count, the gardener came home.

When he looked into the garden he began to cry: "Oh, my pretty pansies! my dear daisies! my sweet violets! my tender young vines!"

"What is he talking about?" said the chickens.

"I suppose he wants us to go out," answered the hen; and she ruffled her feathers and quarreled as the gardener came hurrying toward them.

Then the cow ran one way and the pig ran another. The little chickens got lost in the bushes, and the rabbit hid in the vines. The hen cackled, and the pig squealed, and the gardener scolded. By the time he had driven them all out of the garden the sun was high in the sky.

"Umph, umph," cried the little pig, as he scampered down the road, "we will all come back to-morrow."

But when they went back the next day the garden gate was fastened close, and not even the smallest chicken could get inside.

[D] From "More Winter Stories," by Maud Lindsay; used by permission of the publishers, Milton Bradley Company, Springfield, Mass.



THE TRAVELS OF THE LITTLE TOY SOLDIER

BY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY

He was the largest and the best dressed and the bravest looking of all the toy soldiers in the toy shop. Some of the toy soldiers were made of paper, and these tore easily if they even tried to drill. Some of the toy soldiers were made of tin, and these bent if they had an encounter.

But this toy soldier, who stood head and shoulders above the others, was made of wood. He had once been part of a great pine tree that stood in the forest, and his heart was as brave and true as the heart of the tree.

His trousers were painted green, with yellow stripes; and his jacket was painted red, with gold buttons. He wore a painted blue cap upon the side of his head, with a band that went under his chin, and he carried a wooden gun in one arm. He could stand alone, for his wooden legs were glued to a block of wood, and his eyes were black and shining, and his mouth was painted in a smile.

When the Toy Soldier went from the toy shop to live in Gregory's house the little boy thought that he had never seen such a fine soldier in his life. He made him captain of all the soldier ninepins and guard of the toy train, and he took him to bed with him at night. Then, one day, James, who lived next door and was Gregory's neighbor, came over to play with Gregory.

"What a nice Toy Soldier!" James said.

"Yes, he's mine," Gregory said.

"May I play with him?" James asked.

"No, I said he was my Toy Soldier," Gregory answered.

"Then I'll take him," James said.

"I won't let you," Gregory said.

Then the two little boys began pulling the Toy Soldier to see which could get him away from the other, and the Toy Soldier did not like it at all. He was fond of a good battle, but not of a quarrel. He decided that he would not stay in a house where there was a quarrelsome boy, and so he tumbled out of a window that was close by and fell, down, down, to the street below.

The Toy Soldier had not lain long on the sidewalk when Harold passed by and picked him up.

"I wanted a toy soldier and here is the finest one I ever saw," Harold said; and he slipped the soldier inside his coat and started on, for he was going to school. The Toy Soldier lay close to Harold's watch that was tick, tick, ticking the time away, but Harold loitered, and at last he stopped to play a game of marbles with another little boy whom he met. "I don't care if I am late for school," he said.

"Oho!" thought the Toy Soldier, and as the two little boys played he dropped out from under Harold's coat and into the gutter. When Harold reached school, late, the Toy Soldier was gone.

Joe found the Toy Soldier in the gutter and ran home with him to his mother.

"I have a Toy Soldier!" he said.

"How brave he looks," said Joe's mother.

All the rest of the day the Toy Soldier went about with Joe and listened to what he said and watched what he did.

"I can't go to the grocer's; I'm afraid of his dog."

"I can't put in that nail. I am afraid that the hammer will slip and hit my finger." This was what the Toy Soldier heard.

Then it was Joe's bedtime, and the Toy Soldier went upstairs with him to bed, but Joe cried all the way.

"I'm afraid of the dark!" he said.

When Joe was asleep the Toy Soldier slipped out of his hand and fell into a scrap basket. He knew very well that he couldn't stay with a child who was a coward.

No one saw the Toy Soldier when the basket was emptied in the morning. He went with the scraps into a huge bag, and then into a wagon, and then into a factory where men sorted the cloth to make it into paper. One of these men found the Toy Soldier and took him home to his little boy, who was lame and had to stay alone all day.

"Has it been a good day, John?" his father asked.

"Oh, yes!" laughed John as he hugged the Toy Soldier.

"You have my supper ready just in time," his father said, watching the soup bubbling in a shining pot on the stove.

"And I cleaned a little and set the table," John said.

"Has your back hurt you very much to-day?" asked his father.

"A little, but I don't mind that," John said. "See how fine the Toy Soldier looks standing on the table!"

"Oho!" thought the Toy Soldier, "now I have found a place where I can stay. Here is another soldier, cheerful and willing to work, and brave!"



WHAT HAPPENED TO DUMPS

BY CAROLYN SHERWIN BAILEY

Once upon a time there was a queer little elf named Dumps, who lived all by himself in a dark little house down in a valley. Ever since he could remember, things had gone wrong with him.

He shivered in the cold and kicked the coal bucket when the fire wouldn't burn. He howled when he stumbled over his own dinner pots that he had left in the middle of the floor; and he stood in his front door and scowled when other happy elves went by without speaking to him.

He and his family had lived like that for years. When any elf wanted to describe something very sad he would say it was "Down in the Dumps." And so Dumps went on without a single happy day.

But suddenly the elves decided to give a party. Oh, it was going to be a very jolly party indeed, and Dumps heard about it. Almost every elf who passed was whistling, or singing something cheerful. And some of them carried their best green suits to the Wood Fairy's house to be pressed. And when Dumps heard about the party, he cried so loud because he knew he wouldn't be invited that the Wood Fairy heard him. The noise disturbed her, and she went down to Dumps' house to see what was the matter with him now.

"Tell me all about it, from the beginning, my dear," she said to poor little Dumps.

"I can't see the sunshine!" Dumps howled.

"Of course, you can't," said the Wood Fairy. "Your windows are dirty. Get some nice spring water in your little pail and wash them."

Dumps had never thought of doing that. When he washed the windows the sunbeams streamed in like a golden ladder.

"Is there something else the matter?" the Wood Fairy asked.

"My fire won't burn, even though I kick the coal bucket every day," Dumps sobbed.

"Well, try blowing the fire," the Wood Fairy suggested.

Dumps had never thought of doing that. His bellows were stiff, but he blew them very hard, and—crackle—there was a nice bright fire, and his kettle began to sing!

"Is that all?" asked the Wood Fairy.

"Oh, no!" Dumps sighed, "The other elves are giving a party, and I'm not invited."

"It is for all the elves, and you don't have to be invited," the Wood Fairy said. "Stand up straight and let me brush your suit. Now run along, my dear."

So Dumps started up the hill to the party, laughing all the way, for he just couldn't help it. You see, he had so many years of being one of the Dumps to make up for! He laughed until all his wrinkles were gone, and he was puffed out with happiness. He started bees buzzing, and grasshoppers fiddling, and crickets chirping.

"Who can this new, fat, cheerful elf be?" asked all the other elves, as Dumps arrived at the party, turning a double-somersault into their midst. "We are all here except Dumps, and of course this isn't he?"

Then Dumps showed them how he could turn back-somersaults, and make a see-saw out of a rush leaf. He taught them how to play baseball with white clover heads, and how to make a swing of braided grasses. He surprised himself with all the good times he was able to think up.

"Of course, this isn't Dumps," the other elves decided. "His name must be Delight." And Dumps never told them their mistake, for it wasn't really a mistake at all. Now, was it?





THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth; And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now west, now south.

Then up and spake an old Sailor, Had sailed to the Spanish Main: "I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain, The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat Against the stinging blast; He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring, Oh say, what may it be?" "'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"— And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns. Oh say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light. Oh say, what may it be?" But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear, Through the whistling sleet and snow, Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept Toward the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf, On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves Looked soft as carded wool, But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, Ho! ho! the breakers roared!

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed, On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe.





BY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN

It was a little, little page, Was brought from far away, To bear the great queen's velvet train Upon her bridal day.

His yellow curls were long and bright, His page's suit was blue, With golden clasps at neck and knee, And ruffles fair and new.

And faith, he was the smallest page The court had ever known: His head scarce reached the topmost step That led up to the throne.

And oh, 't was but a little lad Had never been before So many leagues from kin and friends, And from his father's door!

And oh!—'t was but a little child Who never yet, I wis, Had stolen lonely to his bed Without his mother's kiss.

He had not seen the noble queen, Of whom his heart had fear; He knew no friend at court to give A welcome and good cheer.

It was the busy night before The great queen's wedding-day, And all was bustle, haste, and noise, And every one was gay;

And each one had his task to do, And none had time to spare To tend a weeping little page Whose mother was not there.

Far in a big and gloomy room Within the castle keep, The little page lay all alone, And wept, and could not sleep.

The little page lay all alone, And hid his head and cried, Until it seemed his aching heart Would burst his little side.

The chamber door was set ajar, And one was passing by Who heard the little page's sobs And then his piteous cry.

Then some one lifted up the latch And pushed the heavy door, And then a lady entered in And crossed the chamber floor—

A lady tall and sweet and fair, In bridal white who stepped; She stood beside the page's bed, And asked him why he wept.





And then he sobbed about a "kiss," His "mother," and his "home," And wished the queen had called no page, And wished he had not come;

For she was "such a proud, great queen" He was afraid, he said; And he was "lost and lonely" there In that huge, gloomy bed.

And then the lady bent her down And kissed him on the lips, And smoothed his yellow, silken curls With tender finger-tips.

The tears stood in her gentle eyes; "Poor little lad!" she said, And cuddled him up in her arms And knelt down by the bed.

And so she held him, close and warm, And sang him off to sleep, While at her nod her waiting-maids A silent watch did keep.

And when the morning smiled again The little page awoke. They clad him in a suit of white, With velvet cap and cloak,

And crystal buckles on his shoes, And led him to the queen, All lovely in her bridal gear, The fairest ever seen.

And he was such a tiny page, He trembled and looked down, For he was sore afraid to see The great queen sternly frown.

But lo! he heard a soft voice say, "O little page, look here! Am I, who sing to sleep so well, A queen for child to fear?"

He raised his eyes, and lo! the bride Looked on the page and smiled, And then he knew the queen had played At nurse-maid for a child.

And well he graced the wedding-feast And bore her velvet train, And at his dear queen's side thenceforth Was never sad again.





THE SNOW-IMAGE

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE

One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow.

The elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest disposition, and was thought to be very beautiful, her parents and other people who were familiar with her used to call Violet.

But her brother was known by the title of Peony, on account of the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everybody think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers.

"Yes, Violet—yes, my little Peony," said their kind mother; "you may go and play in the snow."

Forth sallied the two children, with a hop-skip-and-jump that carried them at once into the very heart of a huge snowdrift, whence Violet emerged like a snow bunting, while little Peony floundered out with his round face in full bloom.

Then what a merry time had they! To look at them frolicking in the wintry garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the snowbirds were, to take delight only in the tempest and in the white mantle which it spread over the earth.