Chapter IV: Part 4

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a groan, and a crack, and a splitting sound. And crashing down amongst the older trees came an oak, torn up by the roots. It fell across the road just before us. I will never say I was not frightened, for I was. I stopped still, and I believe I trembled. Of course I did not turn round or run away; I was not brought up to that. John jumped out and in a moment was at my head.

“That came very near,” said my master. “What’s to be done now?”

“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree, nor yet get round it. There’s nothing for us but to go back to the four cross-ways, and that will be a good six miles before we get round to the wooden bridge again. It will make us late, but the horse is fresh.”

So back we went and round by the cross roads. By the time we got to the bridge it was very nearly dark. We could just see that the water was over the middle of it. As this sometimes happened when there were floods, master did not stop. We were going along at a good pace, but the moment my feet touched the first part of the bridge, I felt sure there was something wrong. I dared not go forward, and I made a dead stop. “Go on, Beauty,” said my master, and he gave me a touch with the whip, but I dared not stir. He gave me a sharp cut. I jumped, but I dared not go forward.

“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, and he sprang out of the dog-cart, and came to my head and looked all about. He tried to lead me forward. “Come on, Beauty; what’s the matter?” Of course, I could not tell him, but I knew very well that the bridge was not safe.

Just then the man at the toll-gate on the other side ran out of the house, tossing a torch about violently.

“Hoy, hoy, hoy! halloo! stop!” he cried.

“What’s the matter?” shouted my master.

“The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of it is carried away; if you come on you’ll be into the river.”

“Thank God!” said my master. “You Beauty!” said John, and took the bridle and gently turned me round to the right-hand road by the river side. The sun had set some time. The wind seemed to have lulled off after that furious blast which tore up the tree. It grew darker and darker, stiller and stiller. I trotted quietly along, the wheels hardly making a sound on the soft road. For a good while neither master nor John spoke, and then master began in a serious voice. I could not understand much of what they said, but I found they thought that if I had gone on as the master wanted me, horse, chaise, master, and man would have fallen into the river. Master said, God had given men reason, by which they could find out things for themselves; but he had given animals instinct, which did not depend on reason, and which was much more prompt and perfect in its way, and by which they had often saved the lives of men.

At last we came to the park gates, and found the gardener looking out for us. He said that mistress had been much alarmed ever since dark, fearing some accident had happened, and that she had sent James off on Justice, the roan cob, towards the wooden bridge to make inquiry after us.

We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper windows, and as we came up, mistress ran out, saying to master, “Are you really safe, my dear? Oh! I have been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have you had no accident?”

“No, but if your Black Beauty had not been wiser than we were, we should all have been carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” I heard no more, as they went into the house, and John took me to the stable. Oh, what a good supper he gave me that night, a good bran mash and some crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick bed of straw! and I was glad of it, for I was tired.

—ANNA SEWELL

A BEWITCHED DONKEY

There was once a little donkey who lived with a little old woman and her tabby cat and her rooster and his hens and their chicks in a little cottage out in the country. Every morning, after cropping the dewy grass, the little donkey used to poke his head in at the cottage window, as much as to say, “It’s time we were off,” and the little old woman used to say, “I’ll be with you in two shakes of Tabby’s tail.” Presently out she would bring two baskets of fresh-laid eggs from the hens and hang them across the donkey’s back, and off to market they’d go. Tabby would stop washing her face to wave her paw at them, and the little old woman would wave her hand back, and the little donkey would turn and wave his head. They were as happy and loving as any people that ever lived together, and the donkey was the man of the family.

But one morning something got into the donkey. He seemed to be bewitched. You shall hear.

When he had cropped the dewy grass as usual, he poked his head in at the cottage window, as much as to say, “It’s time we were off,” and the little old woman said, “I’ll be with you in two shakes of Tabby’s tail.” But the minute she came to the door with the two baskets of fresh-laid eggs from the hens, up went the little donkey’s heels, and away he ran with such a kick and a run and a run and a kick that the little old woman couldn’t keep up with him were she never so quick. All at once she was so surprised at him that she stood stock still. Immediately stock still stood the little donkey and laughed at her till his fat little sides shook, “Hee haw, hee haw, hee haw.” This was too much for the little old woman. “Can it be that my own little donkey is laughing at his little old woman?” she said. And one basket of eggs dropped smash on the ground and she began to cry.

At this out came Tabby, and up came running all the hens and their little chicks and the lordly rooster, and they all rubbed against the little old woman’s skirts, and Tabby miowed, “Our little old woman, do not cry,” and the hens cackled it, and the little chicks peeped it, and the rooster crowed it. And then they all said it together, each in his own way.

“But the man of the family has run away from us and he laughs at it,” said the little old woman; “whatever shall we do!”

“Let us give him another chance,” said the big white hen with the kind face. “Begin all over again and see what happens.”

So the rooster led the way back to the yard, and the hens followed him and the little chicks followed them. At the same time Tabby led the way back to the cottage and the little old woman followed her. When the little old woman was inside she began packing the one basket of eggs into the two baskets. Well, sure enough, the little donkey did his part, too. He ran back and began cropping the dewy grass, and then he poked his head in at the cottage window as much as to say, “It’s time we were off,” and the little old woman in high glee called out, “I’ll be with you in two shakes of Tabby’s tail.”

But the minute she came to the door with the two baskets of fresh-laid eggs from the hens, up went the little donkey’s heels, and away he ran with such a kick and a run and a run and a kick that the little old woman couldn’t keep up with him were she never so quick. And as before, all at once she was so surprised at him that she stood stock still. Immediately stock still stood the little donkey and laughed at her till his fat little sides shook, “Hee haw, hee haw, hee haw.” And, as before, this was too much for the little old woman. “Can it be that my own little donkey is laughing at his little old woman?” she said. And one basket of eggs dropped smash on the ground and she began to cry.

At this out came Tabby, and up came running all the hens and their little chicks and the lordly rooster, and they all rubbed against the little old woman’s skirts, and Tabby miowed, “Our little old woman, do not cry,” and the hens cackled it, and the little chicks peeped it, and the rooster crowed it. And then they all said it together, each in his own way.

So it was of no use.

But at last the little old woman thought of a plan, such an easy thing, too, and sure to be what a little old woman would think of sooner or later to keep the man of the family. Instead of staying in the cottage, when they went back to try it over a third time, she went out by a back door and crept around the side of the house. When the donkey poked his head in at the window she ran out, caught him by the heels, shoved him in, jumped in after him, and held him. The lordly rooster and the hen and the little chicks were watching, and they ran in and shut both doors fast. And then they all waited and listened, and presently the donkey began to explain himself.

The moonlight the night before was so strong, he said, that it woke him up. As he opened his eyes he heard little voices, as sweet as silver bells, singing,

“O lovely moon, queen of the night,
Beautiful moon, glorious and bright,
Hail, all hail!”

He looked out of his shed into the moonlight, and there on the green he saw the most exquisite fairies, with wings shining with all the colors of the rainbow, hand in hand with big-eyed tiny elves with bumpy heads and little legs. They were all dancing in a ring and looking up at the moon. And the moon was gazing down at them.

Now he knew very well that the fairy folk do not like to be spied on; he had often heard the little old woman tell it to her gossip, Tabby, the cat. And she had warned him to stay in his stall and not go prying on the night folk. And he said he was truly sorry now that he did it, but at the time he thought it would be fun. So he stole up around a stack of hay near where they were dancing in honor of the moon, and all at once he gave such a bray that the fairies fell to the ground in little swoons, and the elves jumped so high into the air that for a whole second he lost sight of them.

But the moonlight showed _them_ where he was. Quick as a wink they whipped little horns out of their belts and blew together three times. Up came hobbling from the shadows an old witch. She saw the donkey at once, and pointing her long finger at his heels cried,

“Kick him, heels,
Until he feels
Ashamed to spy
At fairy reels,
He-he-he!
He must kick
And run away,
And fill the air
With donkey bray,
Until he eats
A wisp of hay
Given by bat
Or by cat.”

Well, Tabby was off to a stable before one shake of her own tail, and presently back she came with the wisp of hay. The little old woman gave it to the little donkey and held her breath to see what would happen, and so did Tabby and the lordly rooster and the hens and the little chicks. No sooner had the donkey swallowed it than he left off kicking and trying to run away!

So now, of course, everything came right. The lordly rooster led his wives and children back to the henyard, and the little old woman and the little donkey set off to market with the eggs that had not been smashed. Tabby stopped washing her face to wave her paw at them, and the little old woman waved her hand back, and the little donkey turned and waved his head.

And ever after they were as loving and happy as any people that ever lived together, and the donkey was the man of the family.

—ANGELA M. KEYES

THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN

(_Tell with stick-figure blackboard illustrations._)

In a village there lived an old woman who one day gathered some beans from her garden to cook. She had a good fire on the hearth, but, to make it burn more quickly, she threw on a handful of straw. As she threw the beans into the pot to boil, one of them fell on the floor unseen by the old woman, not far from a wisp of straw. Suddenly a glowing coal bounced out of the fire, and fell close to them. They both started away, and exclaimed, “Dear friend, don’t come near me till you are cooler. Whatever brings you out here?”

“Oh,” replied the coal, “the heat luckily made me so strong that I was able to bounce from the fire. Had I not done so, my death would have been certain, and I should have been burnt to ashes by this time.”

“I, too, have escaped with a whole skin,” said the bean; “for had the old woman put me into the pot with my comrades, I should have been boiled to broth.”

“I might have shared the same fate,” said the straw, “for all my brothers were pushed into fire and smoke by the old woman. She seized sixty of us at once, and brought us in here to take away our lives, but luckily I slipped through her fingers.”

“Well, now what shall we do with ourselves?” said the coal.

“I think,” answered the bean, “as we have been so fortunate as to escape death together, we may as well be companions, and travel away together to some more friendly country.”

This pleased the two others; so they started on their journey together. After traveling a little distance, they came to a stream, over which there was no bridge of any sort.

Then the straw thought of a plan, and said, “I will lay myself across the stream, so that you may step over me, as if I were a bridge.”

So the straw stretched himself from one shore to the other, and the coal, who was rather hot-headed, tripped out quite boldly on the newly built bridge. But when he reached the middle of the stream, and heard the water rushing under him, he was so frightened that he stood still, and dared not move a step farther. The straw began to burn, broke in two, and fell into the brook. The coal slid after him, hissed as he reached the water, and gave up the ghost.

The bean, who had cautiously remained behind on the shore, could not keep in when she saw what had happened, and laughed so heartily that she burst her sides. It would have been all over with her, too; but, as good luck would have it, a tailor, out on his travels, came to rest by the brook, and noticed the bean. He was a kind-hearted man, so he took a needle and thread out of his pocket, and, taking up the bean, sewed her together. She thanked him prettily, but unfortunately he had only black thread to sew with, and so since that time all beans have a black seam down their sides.

—FOLK TALE

MOTHER HOLLE

There was once a widow who had two daughters. One of them was pretty and industrious, but the other was ugly and idle. Now the mother was much fonder of the ugly and idle one, because this was her own daughter. She made the other do all the work, and be the Cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.

One day as she worked the shuttle got marked with her blood, so she dipped it into the well, to wash the mark off. But it dropped out of her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her mother and told her of the mishap. But the mother scolded her sharply, and was so cruel as to say, “As you have let the shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again.”

The girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do. In the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well, and lost her senses from fright.

When she awoke and came to herself again, she was in a beautiful meadow where the sun was shining and many thousands of flowers were growing. Along this meadow she went, and came to a baker’s oven full of bread, and the bread cried out,

“Oh, take me out!
Take me out!
Or I shall burn;
I have baked a long time!”

So she went up to it, and took out all the loaves, one after another, with the bread-shovel. After that she went on till she came to a tree covered with apples, which called out to her,

“Oh, shake me!
Shake me!
We apples are all ripe!”

So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain, and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.

At last she came to a little house out of which peeped an old woman. The old woman had such large teeth that the girl was frightened, and was about to run away.

But the old woman said, “What are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me; if you will do all the work in the house properly, you shall be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well, and to shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly—for then there is snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.”

The old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage and agreed to enter her service. She did everything so well that she pleased her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously that the feathers flew about like snowflakes. She had a pleasant life with the old woman, never an angry word, and boiled or roast meat every day.

But after she had stayed some time with Mother Holle, she became sad. At first she did not know what was the matter with her, but at last she felt it was homesickness. Although she was many thousand times better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be there. So one day she said to the old woman, “I wish I were home, no matter how well off I am down here, I cannot stay any longer; I must go up again to my own people.” Mother Holle said, “I am glad that you long for your home, and as you have served me so truly, I myself will take you up again.” She took her by the hand, and led her to a large door. The door opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the door-way, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold remained on her, so that she was covered with it.

“You shall have that because you are so industrious,” said Mother Holle; and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle which the girl had let fall into the well. Then the door closed, and the maiden found herself up above the earth, not far from her mother’s house.

As she went into the yard, the cock standing by the well-side cried,

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Your golden girl’s come back to you!”

So she went in to her mother. And because she arrived covered with gold, her mother and sister were glad to have her back.

The girl told all that had happened to her. As soon as the mother heard how she had come by so much gold, she was very anxious that the same good luck should come to the ugly and lazy daughter. So she made _her_ seat herself by the well and spin. But the idle girl did not work. To stain the spindle with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw the shuttle into the well, and jumped in after it.

She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked along the very same path. When she came to the oven, the bread again cried,

“Oh, take me out!
Take me out!
Or I shall burn;
I have baked a long time!”

But the lazy thing answered, “As if I had any wish to make myself dirty?” and on she went. Soon she came to the apple-tree, which cried,

“Oh, shake me!
Shake me!
We apples are all ripe!”

But she answered, “I like that! One of you might fall on my head,” and so went on.

When she came to Mother Holle’s house, she was not afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and she hired herself to her immediately.

The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed Mother Holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking of all the gold she would give her. But on the second day she began to be lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then she would not get up in the morning at all.

Neither did she make Mother Holle’s bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to make the feathers fly up. Mother Holle was soon tired of this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden rain would come. Mother Holle led her, too, to the great door; but while she was standing beneath it, instead of the gold a big kettle of black pitch was emptied over her. “That is the reward of your service,” said Mother Holle, and shut the door.

So the lazy girl went home; but she was quite covered with pitch, and the cock by the well-side, as soon as he saw her, cried out,

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Your pitchy girl’s come back to you!”

And the pitch stuck fast to her, and could not be got off as long as she lived.

—FOLK TALE

TOM THUMB

(_Arranged as a continued story_)

HOW HE CAME TO HIS MOTHER AND FATHER

Long, long ago, when good King Arthur ruled in Britain, there lived a magician named Merlin. He could change himself into anything he chose, and one day when he had changed himself into a beggar he stopped at a plowman’s cottage to ask for food.

“Come in, poor fellow,” cried the plowman, “there’s always a bite for another.” And the plowman’s wife set on the table a bowl of milk and a platter heaped with sweet brown bread. Merlin was greatly pleased with the good people’s kindness to him.

Now, by and by he noticed that although everything in the cottage was neat and comfortable, something was troubling these kind people. So he asked them what it was.

“Ah,” cried the poor woman, with tears in her eyes, “we have no little son. If I only had a little son, I should be the happiest woman in the world, even if he were no bigger than my husband’s thumb.”

Well, Merlin said nothing, and when he had rested he went on his way.

But he did not forget the kind people’s sorrow. As soon as he could, he paid a visit to the queen of the fairies, and told her about it and begged her to grant the woman’s wish. Sure enough, after a time the plowman’s wife had a little son, and lo and behold! he was not a bit bigger than her husband’s thumb. While his mother was admiring him, the queen of the fairies came in at the window. She kissed the child and called him Tom Thumb. She sent for some of the fairies to dress him, and she herself told what he should wear.

So the fairies came and dressed the little man according to the queen’s directions:

“An oak leaf hat he had for a crown;
His shirt of web by spiders spun;
With jacket wove of thistle down;
His trousers were of feathers done.
His stockings, of apple-rind, they tie
With eyelash from his mother’s eye;
His shoes were made of mouse’s skin,
Tann’d with the downy hair within.”

So it was that Tom Thumb, the fairy mannikin, came into the world; and, wonderful to tell, he never grew any bigger than his father’s thumb.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE GROWS UP FULL OF TRICKS

But as he got older he grew to be full of tricks.

He used to play cherry-stones with the boys. When he had lost all his own stones, he would creep slyly into his playmates’ bags, quickly fill his pockets with their stones, creep out unseen, and join again in the game.

One day as he did this the boy who owned the bag caught him at it. “Ah, ha! my little Tommy,” he cried, “at last I have caught you stealing my cherry-stones. I’ll teach you to stop that.” And he quickly drew the string, shutting Tom into the bag, and gave the bag such a shake that the poor little fellow’s legs and thighs and body were sadly bruised. Tom roared with pain and promised never to do that again.

So he was cured of that trick.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE HAS A NARROW ESCAPE FROM A BATTER PUDDING

A short time afterwards Tom’s mother was making a batter pudding for supper, and inquisitive little Tom must of course see how it was made. So he climbed up to the edge of the bowl; but unfortunately his foot slipped and in he plumped, head and ears, into the batter. His mother, poor woman, never caught sight nor light of him, so she stirred him into the batter and put it into the pot to boil.

Now, the batter had filled Tom’s mouth and kept him from crying out to his mother. But when he felt the water getting hot, he kicked and struggled so much in the pot that his mother thought the pudding must be bewitched. She pulled it out of the pot and threw it outdoors. A poor tinker crying, “Pots to mend, kettles to mend,” was passing in the nick of time, so, thinking it would make him a good dinner, he stuffed it into his pack and walked off with it. By this time Tom’s mouth was clear of the batter, so he yelled lustily to be let out. The terrified tinker flung down his pack and ran away. The pudding broke to pieces, and Tom crept out, covered with batter, but glad to be alive and to make his way home as fast as he could.

When Tom’s mother saw the state of her darling she was ready to weep. She put him into a teacup of warm water and washed off the mess. Then, forgetting the loss of her pudding, she kissed him and tucked him into bed.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE GETS INTO THE RED COW’S STOMACH

Well, soon after the batter pudding mischief, Tom’s mother went to milk her cow in the meadow, and she took Tom along with her. As the wind was strong she was afraid he might be blown away, so she took out of her pocket a piece of fine thread and tied him to a thistle. Then she set about milking the cow.

It wasn’t long before the cow caught sight of Tom’s oak leaf hat, and thrusting out her tongue she took in poor Tom and the thistle at a mouthful. Tom was terrified. But while the cow was chewing the thistle he had time to collect his wits, although he was afraid every minute her monstrous teeth would crush him in pieces. So he roared out as loudly as he could, “Mother, mother!”

“Where are you, Tommy, my darling? where are you?” cried his mother, dropping her milking.

“Here, mother,” he shouted, “here, in the red cow’s mouth.”

At this his poor mother began to cry and wring her hands, looking helplessly at the cow. But what was her joy! The cow, surprised at the odd noise in her throat, opened her mouth and let Tom drop out. Quick as a flash his mother caught him up before he could fall to the ground, and she ran home with him.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE COMES TO BELONG TO THE KING

One day when Tom went into the fields to drive the cattle with a whip of barley straw his father had given him, he slipped and rolled into one of the furrows. A raven flying overhead picked him up and flew with him to the top of a giant’s castle near the sea, and there left him.

Tom did not know what to do. But this was not the worst of it. He heard a heavy tread, tramp! tramp! and out strode Grumbo, the giant who owned the castle. He saw Tom, picked him up and gulped him down in a twinkling, as if he were a pill. But in a minute he was sorry. For Tom began to kick and jump about so that the giant could not stand him in his stomach, but rushed to the castle wall and vomited him into the sea.

Well, the instant Tom struck the water a great fish swallowed him. Soon a fisherman caught this very fish, took it to market, and there sold it for King Arthur’s own table. And when the king’s cook cut the fish open, out stepped Tom, alive and well, and stood on his head for joy to find himself safe and free again. The astonished cook ran with him to the king, and Tom so delighted the king and queen and all the knights of the Round Table with his tricks that the king called him his dwarf, to make fun for him and the court.

In time the king grew so fond of Tom that he took him everywhere with him, and even let him creep into his pocket for shelter if it should rain when they were out together.

So now Tom Thumb was King Arthur’s dwarf and lived at court.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE CARRIES MONEY TO HIS PARENTS

One day King Arthur asked Tom about his parents, whether they were as small as Tom, and whether they were rich or poor. Tom told the king his father and mother were as tall as any of the people at court but they were poor. At this the king took Tom into the treasury and told him to take home to his parents as much money as he could carry.

Tom capered for joy. He ran off to get a purse, and into this he stuffed a silver threepenny piece. He had some trouble hoisting the bag of money on his back, but at last he succeeded, and set out on his journey.

It was a short distance, but tiny Tom had to rest more than a hundred times by the way, so that it took him two days and two nights to reach his father’s house. His mother ran out to meet him, and carried him into the house more dead than alive.

She and the father were overjoyed to see him, the more so as he had brought such a great sum of money; but they were grieved that he was so worn out. His mother placed him tenderly in a walnut shell, and feasted him three whole days on a hazel nut. To her sorrow this made him sick, for he should not have eaten a whole nut in less than a month.

In time, Tom was able to run about and to think of returning to court. But as there had been a heavy fall of rain his mother said the roads were too wet for him to walk. So when the wind was blowing in the direction of the king’s castle she made a little umbrella of paper, tied Tom to it, gave him a puff into the air with her mouth, and away he went back to King Arthur.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE BECOMES ILL AND WHO NURSES HIM

Well, Tom was never tired making fun for the king and queen and all the court. The courtiers laughed till their sides ached at his antics, and the king said to the queen, “Did you ever see the like?” And she said, “No, never!”

But he did so much, he at last made himself ill. The whole court was filled with sorrow, for everyone feared the little fellow would die. The king came constantly to his bedside to ask how he was, and brought his cleverest physicians to cure him. But they could not.

In the midst of their anxiety the queen of the fairies ordered her chariot drawn by winged butterflies, and set out for the palace. She lifted Tom tenderly out of his bed and carried him with her to fairyland. Here she herself nursed him back to health and let him play with the fairies until he was as strong and merry as ever.

Then she ordered a breeze to rise. And on this she placed Tom and sent him back to the king.

TOM THUMB

HOW TOM ESCAPES HANGING

Now, just as Tom came flying back to King Arthur’s court, the cook happened to be passing with the king’s great bowl of frumenty, a dish the king was very fond of. Unfortunately the little fellow fell plump into the middle of it, splashing the hot frumenty in the cook’s face. The cook, in a rage at Tom for frightening and scalding him, ran to tell the king that Tom had jumped into his Majesty’s favorite dish out of idle mischief.

The king’s anger was terrible. He ordered Tom to be seized and tried. No one dared plead for him, so the king commanded that his head be cut off. A crowd followed the headsman to see it done. The headsman lifted his ax. Poor little Tom fell a-trembling and looked about for some means of escape. In the crowd he saw a miller with his mouth open, like the booby he was. At a bound Tom leaped into the miller’s mouth. He sprang in so nimbly that no one, not even the miller himself, saw where he went. So, as the headsman could not find Tom to take off Tom’s head, he, like a sensible man, shouldered his ax and went home; and the miller went back to his mill.

When Tom heard the miller at work in the mill, he knew he was far away from the court and entirely safe, so he immediately set about getting out. He began to roll and tumble about in such an alarming way that the miller took to bed and sent for a doctor. When the doctor arrived, Tom began to dance and sing, and the doctor, as much frightened as the miller, sent in hot haste for five more doctors and twenty learned men.

While the six doctors and the twenty learned men were putting their wise heads together, the miller happened to yawn. Seizing the chance, Tom took another jump, but out of the miller’s mouth this time, and alighted safe on his feet in the middle of a table near the bed. Well, when the miller saw the little bit of a creature that had tormented him, it was his turn to fall into a rage at Tom. He laid hands on him, opened the window, and threw him into the river.

And a second time Tom was swallowed by a fish! A large salmon swimming along snapped him up. A fisherman caught the salmon and sold it in the market for a great lord’s table. But when the lord saw it he thought it such a fine fish that he made a present of it to King Arthur. So when the cook cut open the fish he found poor Tom and ran to the king with him to make sure that he should not escape again. But the king was busy and ordered Tom to be kept locked up until he should send for him.

The cook was determined that Tom should not get away, so he put him into a mouse trap closely wired. When Tom had spent a week in the trap peeping through the wires, the king sent for him. But to the cook’s disappointment and Tom’s great delight, his anger had gone. He forgave Tom for falling into the frumenty, and made him again his dwarf, to make fun for him and the court.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE IS KNIGHTED BY THE KING

To reward Tom for his services to the court, the king made him a knight. He told Tom to kneel down. Then he struck him with his sword and said, “With this sword I dub thee knight. Arise, Sir Thomas Thumb.”

As Tom’s clothes had suffered in the batter pudding, the frumenty, and the insides of the giant, the miller, and the fishes, the king ordered that the new knight should be given a handsome suit of clothes and a horse and sword. How proud Tom was and how splendid he looked! You shall hear about his dress and his horse and sword:

Of butterfly’s wings his shirt was made,
His boots of chicken’s hide;
And by a nimble fairy blade,
Well learned in the tailoring trade,
His clothing was supplied.—
A needle dangled by his side;
A dapper mouse he used to ride,
Thus strutted Tom in lordly pride.

It was great fun to see Tom mounted on the mouse, as he rode out a-hunting with the king and the other knights. They were all ready to die with laughter as they looked at him and his prancing charger.

But they were glad to call him a brother knight, he was so brave.

One day as they were riding past a farmhouse a large cat lurking about a door made a spring at Tom and the mouse, seized them, and ran up a tree with them. Here she began to devour the mouse. Tom boldly drew his sword and stuck it into the cat so fiercely that she was at last forced to drop them. As they fell, one of the knights held out his hat and caught them. He carried Tom home and laid him on a bed of down in a little ivory cabinet until he should get over the attack.

Tom was soon himself again, and dearer than ever to the king and court.

TOM THUMB

HOW HE GOES AWAY AND COMES BACK AGAIN

Soon after, the queen of the fairies came to pay Tom a visit, and when she left she took Tom back with her to fairyland. There he stayed several years.

While he was gone King Arthur and the queen and all the knights who knew Tom died, so when he came back he found a new king reigning, King Thunstone. All the courtiers flocked about the mannikin, and asked him who he was, and whence he came, and where he lived. Tom answered,

“My name is Tom Thumb,
From the fairies I’ve come.
When King Arthur shone,
This court was my home.
In me he delighted,
By him I was knighted;
Have you never heard of Sir Thomas Thumb?”

The king was so charmed with this speech that he at once made Tom court dwarf. He ordered his builders to build Tom a gold palace a span high, with a door an inch wide, and he ordered his coachmen to give Tom a coach drawn by six small mice. And so that he might sit upon the king’s table close to his elbow, he ordered his cabinet makers to make Tom a little ivory chair.

So there was Tom back at court again and king’s favorite.

TOM THUMB

WHAT BECAME OF HIM AT LAST

But Tom did not live much longer. A large spider one day attacked him. Tom drew his sword and fought well, but at last the spider’s poisonous breath overcame him.

“He fell dead on the ground where he stood,
And the spider suck’d up every drop of his blood.”

Well, of course he had to die some time.

King Thunstone and his whole court were so sorry that they went into mourning for him, and over his grave they raised a white marble monument. And the king’s engraver wrote this on it:

“Here lyes Tom Thumb, King Arthur’s knight,
Who died by a cruel spider’s bite.
He was well known in Arthur’s court,
Where he afforded gallant sport;
He rode at tilt and tournament,
And on a mouse a-hunting went.
Alive he filled the court with mirth;
His death to sorrow soon gave birth.
Wipe, wipe your eyes, and shake your head
And cry,—‘Alas! Tom Thumb is dead!’”

—ENGLISH FOLK TALE

THE TWO BROTHERS

Once upon a time there were two brothers. Each had ten loaves of bread and nothing else. So they said, “Let us go and seek our fortune.” And they went.

When they had gone a little way they were hungry. One brother said to the other, “Come, let us eat thy bread first, then we shall eat mine.” So they did and went on their way. When they had gone farther they were hungry again. The first brother said again to the other, “Come, let us eat thy bread, then we shall eat mine.” They did and went on their way. And when they had gone farther they finished the ten loaves. Then the first brother, who had yet kept _his_ loaves, said to the other, “Now thou mayst go thy way, and I shall go mine. Thou hast no loaves left, and I will not let thee eat my bread.” And the heartless fellow turned his back and left his brother to go on alone without a morsel of food.

Well, the brother went on and on and on, more and more feebly, for want of food, till he came to a mill in a dark forest. He said to the miller, “I can go no farther; pray let me stay here to-night.”

Now the miller was a truer brother to him than his own had been, and he answered, “Brother, I would not turn thee away if it were safe. But wild beasts come into this wood at night, perhaps into this very mill. I myself do not wait to see.”

“I feel no fear,” said the poor boy; “the beasts will not harm me.” So while the miller went off home he crept into the hopper of the mill.

At midnight from some place or other a big bear, a wolf, and a jackal came into the mill, and went leaping and bounding about as if they were having a dance. When they had done the bear said, “Come, let us each tell something he has seen or heard. I’ll begin.

“I know a hill where there is a great heap of money. It glitters when the sun shines. If anyone should go there on a sunny day, he would find his fortune.”

“I know a town,” said the wolf, “where there is no water. Every mouthful has to be brought from a great distance. Now, in the center of that very town, hidden under a stone, where no one can see it, is beautiful pure water. Whoever finds the stone will make a fortune.”

“What I can tell is best of all,” said the jackal. “I know of a king who has only one daughter, and she lies weak and pale now three long years. If only someone would bathe her in beech leaves she would grow strong and rosy. Whoever cures her will make his fortune.”

At the last word day began to dawn. The bear, the wolf, and the jackal left the mill and disappeared into the wood.

The boy had heard it all. Full of thanks he came out of the hopper. “Perhaps,” said he to himself, “I may be the one to find the money, take away the stone, and cure the king’s daughter. If so, my fortune is sure.”

He set forward with a stout heart just as the sun rose. Soon its beams fell on a hill to the right and something glittered in its rays. And here he found the great heap of money, a fortune in itself. Farther on he came to the town where the people had no water. In the center of it there was the stone. He rolled it away, and behold! streams of clear water gushed forth. The people ran to get pitchers and filled them to overflowing. And they gave him a great sum of gold and silver. After this he set out for the kingdom of which the jackal had spoken. When he arrived he asked the king, “What wilt thou give me if I cure thy daughter?”

“If thou canst do this,” said the king, “thy fortune is made, for I will give thee my daughter as thy wife.”

The youth gathered the beech leaves, the princess bathed in them, and was cured. In great joy the king married the maiden to the youth. So now his fortune was made.

The news of this reached the ears of the selfish brother. He came to his brother and asked how it had all happened. When he heard he said, “I also will go and stay at that mill a night or two.” His brother warned him of the danger. But he would not listen. He reached the mill, crept into the hopper, and waited.

As before, at midnight, from some place or other, the bear, the wolf, and the jackal came into the mill, and went leaping and bounding about as if they were having a dance. And when they had done the bear said, “Come, let us each tell something he has seen or heard. I’ll begin.

“Next day after I told you my story the money was all taken away.”

The wolf said, “And the stone was rolled away and the water found.”

“And the king’s daughter was cured,” added the jackal.

“Then perhaps someone was listening when we talked here,” growled the bear.

“Perhaps someone is here now,” howled the wolf and the jackal.

“Let us go and look,” shrieked the three.

They looked up and down and round about and in all the corners. At last they poked their noses into the hopper. And that was the end of the greedy brother.

But he who had married the king’s daughter lived happy ever after and when the king died ruled well and wisely.

—FOLK TALE.

THE WOOING

One morning bright and early a young cock from the next farm stepped into the barnyard where lived a certain young chick.

“Good day, Father Rooster,” said he.

“Many thanks, young sir,” said Father Rooster.

“I’ve come a-wooing. May I have your fair daughter Peep for my bride?”

“Ask Mother Hen, Brother Bantam, Sister Cluck, and fair Peep herself; and then we’ll see,” said Father Rooster.

“Where is Mother Hen?”

“She is sitting in the hay hatching her eggs.”

So away went young cock
With a fly and a leap,
So anxious was he
To marry fair Peep.

“Good day, Mother Hen,” said he.

“Many thanks, young sir,” said Mother Hen.

“I’ve come a-wooing. May I have your fair daughter Peep for my bride?”

“Ask Father Rooster, Brother Bantam, Sister Cluck, and fair Peep herself; then we’ll see,” said Mother Hen.

“Where is Brother Bantam?”

“He’s on the gate-post learning to crow.”

So away went young cock
With a fly and a leap,
So anxious was he
To marry fair Peep.

“Good day, Brother Bantam,” said he.

“Many thanks,” said the other.

“I’ve come a-wooing. May I have your fair sister Peep for my bride?”

“Ask Father Rooster, Mother Hen, Sister Cluck, and fair Peep herself; then we’ll see,” said Brother Bantam.

“Where is Sister Cluck?”

“She’s with fair Peep.”

“And where is fair Peep?”

“She’s with Sister Cluck.”

Well, away went young cock
With a fly and a leap,
So anxious was he
To marry fair Peep.

And when he came to two very close together, he said to one, “Good day, Sister Cluck.”

And one answered, “Many thanks, young sir.”

“I’ve come a-wooing. May I have your fair sister Peep for my bride?”

“Ask Father Rooster, Mother Hen, Brother Bantam, and fair Peep herself; then we’ll see,” said Sister Cluck.

“Fair Peep, wilt thou be my bride?” said he. And all the family came up to hear her answer and it wasn’t _no_, so it must have been _yes_.

“What hast thou to keep house on?” said Mother Hen to her daughter.

And Brother Bantam answered for her, “A sweet voice;” and Sister Cluck added, “A sweet temper.”

“With these to begin,”
Said Mother Hen,
“There’ll be no din.”

“What is thy trade, young Master Cock?” asked Father Rooster; “art thou a tailor?”

“Something else for _my_ talents.”

“A blacksmith?”

“It suits me not.”

“Perhaps thou art a watchmaker.”

“No, but I’m a time-keeper; I tell people when it is time to rise and go about their work. Is it not a useful trade?”

“That it is.

“Gladly we give thee fair Peep,
To love and to keep
Safe in thy heart,
Till death do thee part.”

“Then come, thou, sweet wife,
My love and my life,
Step out by my side,
My bonny wee bride.”

As they took their way home
They stepped on a tin,
And the tin it bended,
So my story’s ended.

—ANGELA M. KEYES

JACK-THE-GIANT-KILLER

When good King Arthur ruled the land, there lived near Land’s End in England, in a place called Cornwall, a farmer who had an only son named Jack. Jack was wide awake and ready of wit, so that nobody and nothing could worst him.

In those days the Mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge giant named Cormoran. He was so fierce and frightful to look at that he was the terror of all the neighboring towns and villages. He lived in a cave in the side of the mount, and whenever he wanted food he waded over to the mainland and took whatever came in his way. At his coming everybody ran away, and then of course he seized the cattle, making nothing of carrying off half-a-dozen oxen on his back at a time, and as for sheep and hogs he tied them around his waist as if they were tallow dips. He had done this for many years, and all Cornwall was in despair.

One day Jack happened to be in the town-hall when the magistrates were sitting in council to think what was best to do.

“What reward,” he asked, “will be given to the man who kills Cormoran?”

“He may take the treasure the giant has stored in his cave,” they said.

Quoth Jack, “Let me have a try at it.”

So he got a horn and shovel and pickaxe. And in the dark of a winter’s evening he went over to the mount and fell to work. Before morning he had dug a pit twenty-two feet deep and nearly as broad, and covered it with sticks and straw. Then he strewed a little earth over it so that it looked like plain ground. He then placed himself on the farther side of the pit, and just at the break of day put his horn to his mouth and blew, Tan-tiv-y, Tan-tiv-y!

The noise roused the giant. He rushed out of his cave, crying, “You villain, have you come here to disturb my rest? You shall pay dearly for this. I will take you whole and broil you for breakfast.” He had no sooner said this than he tumbled into the pit and made the very foundations of the mount shake.

“Oh, Giant,” quoth Jack, “where are you? Has the earth swallowed you up? What do you think now of broiling me for breakfast? Will no other food do than sweet Jack?” Then he gave a most mighty knock with his pickaxe on the very crown of the giant’s big head, and killed him on the spot.

Jack then filled up the pit with earth, and went to the cave and took the treasure. When the magistrates heard of Jack’s success, they made a law and wrote it on their books that henceforth he should be called

Jack-the-Giant-Killer,

and they presented him with a sword and belt, and on the belt they wrote these words,