The Child's World: Third Reader

THE FLAX

I

It was spring. The flax was in full bloom, and it had dainty little blue flowers that nodded in the breeze.

"People say that I look very well," said the flax. "They say that I am fine and long and that I shall make a beautiful piece of linen. How happy I am! No one in the world can be happier."

"Oh, yes," said the fence post, "you may grow and be happy, and you may sing, but you do not know the world as I do. Why, I have knots in me." And it creaked;

"No, it is not ended," said the flax. "The sun will shine, and the rain will fall, and I shall grow and grow. No, no, the song is not ended."

One day some men came with sharp reap hooks. They took the flax by the head and cut it off at the roots. This was very painful, you may be sure.

Then the flax was laid in water and was nearly drowned. After that it was put on a fire and nearly roasted. All this was frightful. But the flax only said, "One cannot be happy always. By having bad times as well as good, we become wise."

After the flax had been cut and steeped and roasted, it was put on a spinning wheel. "Whir-r-r, whir-rr-r," went the spinning wheel; it went so fast that the flax could hardly think.

"I have been very happy in the sunshine and the rain," it said. "If I am in pain now, I must be contented."

At last the flax was put in the loom. Soon it became a beautiful piece of white linen.

"This is very wonderful," said the flax. "How foolish the fence post was with its song of—

The song is not ended, I am sure. It has only just begun.

"After all that I have suffered, I am at last made into beautiful linen. How strong and fine I am, and how long and white! This is even better than being a plant bearing flowers. I have never been happier than I am now."

After some time the linen was cut into pieces and sewed with needles. That was not pleasant; but at last there were twelve pretty white aprons.

"See," said the flax, "I have been made into something. Now I shall be of some use in the world. That is the only way to be happy."

II

Years passed by, and the linen was so worn that it could hardly hold together.

"The end must come soon," said the flax.

At last the linen did fall into rags and tatters; it was torn into shreds and boiled in water. The flax thought the end had come.

But no, the end was not yet. After being made into pulp and dried, the flax became beautiful white paper.

"This is a surprise, a glorious surprise," it said. "I am finer than ever, and I shall have fine things written on me. How happy I am!"

And sure enough, the most beautiful stories and verses were written upon it. People read the stories and verses, and they were made wiser and better. Their children and their children's children read them, too, and so the song was not ended.

—HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.

THE WONDERFUL WORLD

—William Brighty Rands.

THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE

As every one knows, fairies are always just. They are kind to others, and in return they expect others to be kind to them. In some countries across the sea there are fairies called Hillmen.

Now, there once lived a certain housewife who liked to make bargains. She gave away only those things for which she had no use, and then expected always to get something in return.

One day a Hillman knocked at her door.

"Can you lend us a saucepan?" he asked. "There's a wedding on the hill, and all the pots are in use."

"Is he to have one?" whispered the servant who opened the door.

"Aye, to be sure," answered the housewife; "one must be neighborly. Get the saucepan for him, lass."

The maid turned to take a good saucepan from the shelf, but the housewife stopped her.

"Not that, not that," she whispered. "Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, but that doesn't matter. The Hillmen are so neat and are such nimble workers that they are sure to mend it before they send it home. I can oblige the fairies and save sixpence in tinkering, too."

The maid brought the old saucepan that had been laid by until the tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman. He thanked her and went away.

When the saucepan was returned, it had been neatly mended, just as the housewife thought it would be.

At night the maid filled the pan with milk and set it on the fire to heat for the children's supper. In a few moments the milk was so smoked and burnt that no one would touch it. Even the pigs refused to drink it.

"Ah, you good-for-nothing!" cried the housewife. "There's a quart of milk wasted at once."

"And that's twopence," cried a queer little voice that seemed to come from the chimney.

The housewife filled the saucepan again and set it over the fire. It had not been there more than two minutes before it boiled over and was burnt and smoked as before.

"The pan must be dirty," muttered the woman, who was very much vexed. "Two full quarts of milk have been wasted."

"And that's fourpence!" added the queer little voice from the chimney.

The saucepan was scoured; then it was filled with milk the third time and set over the fire. Again the milk boiled over and was spoiled.

Now the housewife was quite vexed. "I have never had anything like this to happen since I first kept house," she exclaimed. "Three quarts of milk wasted!"

"And that's sixpence," cried the queer little voice from the chimney. "You didn't save the tinkering after all, mother!"

With that the Hillman himself came tumbling from the chimney and ran off laughing. But from that time, the saucepan was as good as any other.

—JULIANA H. EWING.

THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE

—OLIVER HERFORD.

THE BELL OF ATRI

I

Good King John of Atri loved his people very much and wished to see them happy. He knew, however, that some were not; he knew that many suffered wrongs which were not righted. This made him sad.

One day the king thought of a way to help his people. He had a great bell hung in a tower in the market place. He had the rope made so long that a child could reach it.

Then the king sent heralds through the streets to tell the people why he had put the bell in the market place. The heralds blew their trumpets long and loud, and the people came from their homes to hear the message.

"Know ye," cried a herald, "that whenever a wrong is done to any man, he has but to ring the great bell in the square. A judge will go to the tower to hear the complaint, and he will see that justice is done."

"Long live our good king!" shouted the people. "Now our wrongs shall be righted."

And so it was. Whenever anyone was wronged, he rang the bell in the tower. The judge put on his rich robes and went there. He listened to the complaint, and the guilty were punished.

The people in Atri were now very happy, and the days went swiftly by. The bell hung in its place year after year, and it was rung many times. By and by the rope became so worn that one could scarcely reach it.

The king said, "Why, a child could not reach the rope now, and a wrong might not be righted. I must put in a new one."

So he ordered a rope from a distant town. In those days it took a long time to travel from one town to another. What should they do if somebody wished to ring the bell before the new rope came?

"We must mend the rope in some way," said a man.

"Here," said another; "take this piece of grapevine and fasten it to the rope. Then it will be long enough for any one to reach."

This was done, and for some time the bell was rung in that way.

II

One hot summer noon everything was very still. All the people were indoors taking their noonday rest.

Suddenly they were awakened by the arousing bell:

The judge started from a deep sleep, turned on his couch, and listened. Could it be the bell of justice?

Again the sound came:

It was the bell of justice. The judge put on his rich robes and, panting, hurried to the market place.

There he saw a strange sight: a poor steed, starved and thin, tugging at the vines which were fastened to the bell. A great crowd had gathered around.

"Whose horse is this?" the judge asked.

"It is the horse of the rich soldier who lives in the castle," said a man. "He has served his master long and well, and has saved his life many times. Now that the horse is too old to work, the master turns him out. He wanders through the lanes and fields, picking up such food as can be found."

"His call for justice shall be heard," said the judge. "Bring the soldier to me."

The soldier tried to treat the matter as a jest. Then he grew angry and said in an undertone, "One can surely do what he pleases with his own."

"For shame!" cried the judge. "Has the horse not served you for many years? And has he not saved your life? You must build a good shelter for him, and give him the best grain and the best pasture. Take the horse home and be as true to him as he has been to you."

The soldier hung his head in shame and led the horse away. The people shouted and applauded.

"Great is King John," they cried, "and great the bell of Atri!"

—ITALIAN TALE.

A DUMB WITNESS

One day at noontime a poor man was riding along a road. He was tired and hungry, and wished to stop and rest. Finding a tree with low branches, he tied his horse to one of them. Then he sat down to eat his dinner.

Soon a rich man came along and started to tie his horse to the same tree.

"Do not fasten your horse to that tree," cried the poor man. "My horse is savage and he may kill yours. Fasten him to another tree."

"I shall tie my horse where I wish," the rich man replied; and he tied his horse to the same tree. Then he, too, sat down to eat.

Very soon the men heard a great noise. They looked up and saw that their horses were kicking and fighting. Both men rushed to stop them, but it was too late; the rich man's horse was dead.

"See what your horse has done!" cried the rich man in an angry voice. "But you shall pay for it! You shall pay for it!"

Then he dragged the man before a judge.

"Oh, wise judge," he cried, "I have come to you for justice. I had a beautiful, kind, gentle horse which has been killed by this man's savage horse. Make the man pay for the horse or send him to prison."

"Not so fast, my friend," the judge said. "There are two sides to every case."

He turned to the poor man. "Did your horse kill this man's horse?" he asked.

The poor man made no reply.

The judge asked in surprise, "Are you dumb? Can you not talk?"

But no word came from the poor man's lips.

Then the judge turned to the rich man.

"What more can I do?" he asked. "You see for yourself this poor man cannot speak."

"Oh, but he can," cried the rich man. "He spoke to me."

"Indeed!" said the judge. "When?"

"He spoke to me when I tied my horse to the tree."

"What did he say?" asked the judge.

"He said, 'Do not fasten your horse to that tree. My horse is savage and may kill yours.'"

"0 ho!" said the judge. "This poor man warned you that his horse was savage, and you tied your horse near his after the warning. This puts a new light on the matter. You are to blame, not he."

The judge turned to the poor man and said, "My man, why did you not answer my questions?"

"Oh, wise judge," said the poor man, "if I had told you that I warned him not to tie his horse near mine, he would have denied it. Then how could you have told which one of us to believe? I let him tell his own story, and you have learned the truth."

This speech pleased the judge. He praised the poor man for his wisdom, and sent the rich man away without a penny.

—ARABIAN TALE.

GIVING THANKS

THE HARE AND THE HEDGEHOG

I

PLACE: A farmer's cabbage field.

TIME: A fine morning in spring.

(The hedgehog is standing by his door looking at the cabbage field which he thinks is his own.)

HEDGEHOG: Wife, have you dressed the children yet?

WIFE: Just through, my dear.

HEDGEHOG: Well, come out here and let us look at our cabbage patch.

(Wife comes out.)

HEDGEHOG: Fine crop, isn't it? We should be happy.

WIFE: The cabbage is fine enough, but I can't see why we should be so happy.

HEDGEHOG: Why, my dear, there are tears in your voice. What is the matter?

WIFE: I suppose I ought not to mind it, but those dreadful hares nearly worry the life out of me.

HEDGEHOG: What are they doing now?

WIFE: Doing? What are they not doing? Why, yesterday I brought my pretty babies out here to get some cabbage leaves. We were eating as well-behaved hedgehogs always eat, and those horrid hares almost made us cry.

HEDGEHOG: What did they do?

WIFE: They came to our cabbage patch and they giggled and said, "Oh, see the little duck-legged things! Aren't they funny?" Then one jumped over a cabbage just to hurt our feelings.

HEDGEHOG: Well, they are mean, I know, but we won't notice them. I'll get even with them one of these days. Ah, there comes one of them now.

WIFE: Yes, and he laughed at me yesterday. He said, "Good-morning, Madam Shortlegs." I won't speak to him. I'll hide till he goes by.

(Wife hides behind a cabbage.)

HEDGEHOG: Good-morning, sir.

HARE: Are you speaking to me?

HEDGEHOG: Certainly; do you see any one else around?

HARE: How dare you speak to me?

HEDGEHOG: Oh, just to be neighborly.

HARE: I shall ask you not to speak to me hereafter. I think myself too good to notice hedgehogs.

HEDGEHOG: Now, that is strange.

HARE: What is strange?

HEDGEHOG: Why, I have just said to my wife that we wouldn't notice you.

HARE: Wouldn't notice me, indeed, you silly, short-legged, duck-legged thing!

HEDGEHOG: Well, my legs are quite as good as yours, sir.

HARE: As good as mine! Who ever heard of such a thing? Why, you can do little more than crawl.

HEDGEHOG: That may be as you say, but I'll run a race with you any day.

HARE: Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! A race with a hedgehog! Well, well, well!

HEDGEHOG: Are you afraid to run with me?

HARE: Of course not. It will be no race at all, but I'll run just to show you how silly you are.

HEDGEHOG: Good! You run in that furrow; I will run in this. We shall see who gets to the fence first. Let's start from the far end of the furrow.

HARE: I will run to the brook and back while you are getting there. Go ahead.

HEDGEHOG: I wouldn't stay too long if I were you.

HARE: Oh, I'll be back before you reach the end of the furrow.

(The hare runs off to the brook.)

II

HEDGEHOG: Wife, wife, did you hear what I said to the hare?

WIFE: Did I hear? I should say I did. What are you thinking of? Have you lost your senses?

HEDGEHOG: You shouldn't speak that way to me. What do you know about a man's business? Come here and let me whisper something to you.

(He whispers and then walks to far end of the furrow. His wife laughs.)

WIFE: Ha, ha! I see. I see. Nothing wrong with your brains.

as my grandmother used to say. The hare will find that out today.

(She stoops down in the near end of the furrow. The hare returns and takes his place.)

HARE: Well, are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: Of course I am,—ready and waiting.

(The hare runs as swiftly as the wind. The hedgehog starts with him, but stops and stoops low in the furrow. When the hare reaches the other end, the hedgehog's wife puts up her head.)

WIFE: Well, here I am.

HARE: What does this mean?

WIFE: It means what it means.

HARE: We'll try again. Are you ready?

WIFE: Of course I am.

(The hare runs swiftly back again. Wife starts, but stops and stoops low. The hare reaches the other end. The hedgehog puts up his head.)

HEDGEHOG: Here I am.

HARE: I can't understand this.

HEDGEHOG: It is very clear to me.

HARE: Well, we'll try again. Are you ready?

HEDGEHOG: I'm always ready.

(Again the wife puts up her head and the hare is bewildered.)

WIFE: You see I am here.

HARE: I just can't believe it.

WIFE: A perfectly simple thing.

HARE: We'll try once more. You can't beat me another time.

WIFE: Don't boast. You had better save your breath for the race; you will need it.

(When the hare reaches the other end of the field, the hedgehog puts up his head.)

HARE: This is very strange.

HEDGEHOG: Shall we run again? You seem a little tired, but I am perfectly fresh.

HARE (panting): No, no! The race is yours.

HEDGEHOG: Will you call my wife and children names any more?

HARE: No, no! I'll never do that again.

HEDGEHOG: Very well. And if you wish a race at any time, friend hare, just call by for me.

HARE (walking off shaking his head): It's very strange. I hope none of the other hares will hear of this race.

WIFE (as she meets the hedgehog): I thought I should hurt myself laughing. As my grandmother used to say,

— GRIMM.

EPAMINONDAS

Epaminondas had a good kind granny, who cooked at "the big house." Epaminondas liked to go to see her, for she always gave him something to take home with him.

One day when Epaminondas went to see granny, she was baking a cake, and she gave Epaminondas a piece to eat. As he was leaving, granny said, "Epaminondas, you may take a slice home to your mammy."

Epaminondas took it in his little hands and squeezing it just as tight as he could, ran all the way home. When his mammy saw him, she said, "What's that, Epaminondas?"

"Cake, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Cake!" cried his mammy. "Epaminondas, don't you know that's no way to carry cake? When your granny gives you cake, put it in your hat; then put your hat on your head and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she was churning, and she gave him a pat of fresh butter to carry to his mammy.

Epaminondas said to himself, "What was it mammy said? Oh, yes! I know. She said, 'Put it in your hat and put the hat on your head and come home.' I'll do just what she told me."

Epaminondas put the pat of butter in his hat, put his hat on his head, and went home.

It was a hot day, and soon the butter began to melt. Drip, drip, drip, it went into his ears. Drip, drip, drip, it went into his eyes. Drip, drip, drip, it went down his back. When Epaminondas reached home, he had no butter in his hat. It was all on him.

Looking at him hard, his mammy said, "Epaminondas, what in the world is that dripping from your hat?"

"Butter, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Butter!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! Don't you know how to carry butter? You must wrap it in a cabbage leaf, and take it to the spring. Then you must cool it in the water, and cool it in the water, and cool it in the water. When you have done this, take the butter in your hands and come home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

The next time Epaminondas went to see his granny, she wasn't baking cake and she wasn't churning. She was sitting in a chair knitting.

She said, "Epaminondas, look in the woodshed, and you'll see something you like."

Epaminondas looked in the woodshed, and there he found four little puppies. He played with them all the afternoon, and when he started home, his granny gave him one.

Epaminondas remembered what his mammy had told him. He wrapped the puppy in a big cabbage leaf, and took it to the spring. He cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water, and cooled it in the water. Then he took it in his hands, and went home.

When his mammy saw him, she said, "Epaminondas, what is that in your hands?"

"A puppy dog, mammy."

"A puppy dog!" cried his mammy. "Oh, Epaminondas! What makes you act so foolish? That's no way to carry a puppy. The way to carry a puppy is to tie a string around his neck and put him on the ground. Then you take the other end of the string in your hand and come along home. You hear me, Epaminondas?"

"Yes, mammy."

Epaminondas was going to be right the next time; he got a piece of string and put it in his pocket to have it ready.

The next day company came to see Epaminondas's mammy, and she had no bread for dinner. She called Epaminondas and said, "Run to 'the big house' and ask your granny to send me a loaf of bread for dinner."

"Yes, mammy," said Epaminondas. And off he ran.

Granny gave him a loaf just from the oven—a nice, brown, crusty loaf. This time Epaminondas was certainly going to do what mammy had told him.

He proudly got out his string and tied it to the loaf. Then he put the loaf on the ground, and taking the other end of the string in his hand, he went along home.

When he reached home, his mammy gave one look at the thing tied to the end of the string.

"What have you brought, Epaminondas?" she cried.

"Bread, mammy. Granny sent it to you."

"Oh, Epaminondas! Epaminondas! How could you be so foolish?" cried his mammy. "Now I have no bread for dinner. I'll have to go and get some myself."

She went into the house and got her bonnet. When she came out, she said, "Epaminondas, do you see those three mince pies I've put on the doorstep to cool. Well, now, you hear me, Epaminondas. You be careful how you step on those pies!"

"Yes, mammy."

His mammy went off down the road; Epaminondas went to the door and looked out. "Mammy told me to be careful how I step on those mince pies," he said, "so I must be careful how I do it. I'll step right in the middle of every one."

And he did!

When his mammy came home, there were no pies for dinner.

Now she was angry all over, and something happened. I don't know, and you don't know, but we can guess.

Poor Epaminondas!—SOUTHERN TALE.

HOW BROTHER RABBIT FOOLED THE WHALE AND THE ELEPHANT

I

One day Brother Rabbit was running along on the sand, lippety, lippety, lippety. He was going to a fine cabbage field. On the way he saw the whale and the elephant talking together.

Brother Rabbit said, "I'd like to know what they are talking about." So he crouched down behind some bushes and listened.

This is what Brother Rabbit heard the whale say:

"You are the biggest thing on the land, Brother Elephant, and I am the biggest thing in the sea. If we work together, we can rule all the animals in the world. We can have our own way about everything."

"Very good, very good," trumpeted the elephant. "That suits me. You keep the sea, and I will keep the land."

"That's a bargain," said the whale, as he swam away.

Brother Rabbit laughed to himself. "They won't rule me," he said, as he ran off.

Brother Rabbit soon came back with a very long and a very strong rope and his big drum. He hid the drum in some bushes. Then taking one end of the rope, he walked up to the elephant.

"Oh, dear Mr. Elephant," he said, "you are big and strong; will you have the kindness to do me a favor?"

The elephant was pleased, and he trumpeted, "Certainly, certainly. What is it?"

"My cow is stuck in the mud on the shore, and I can't pull her out," said Brother Rabbit. "If you will help me, you will do me a great service. You are so strong, I am sure you can get her out."

"Certainly, certainly," trumpeted the elephant.

"Thank you," said the rabbit. "Take this rope in your trunk, and I will tie the other end to my cow. Then I will beat my drum to let you know when to pull. You must pull as hard as you can, for the cow is very heavy."

"Huh!" trumpeted the elephant, "I'll pull her out, or break the rope."

Brother Rabbit tied the rope to the elephant's trunk and ran off, lippety, lippety.

II

He ran till he came to the shore where the whale was. Making a bow, Brother Rabbit said, "0, mighty and wonderful Whale, will you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" asked the whale.

"My cow is stuck in the mud on the shore," said Brother Rabbit, "and I cannot pull her out. Of course you can do it. If you will be so kind as to help me, I shall be very much obliged."

"Certainly," said the whale, "certainly."

"Thank you," said Brother Rabbit, "take hold of this rope, and I will tie the other end to my cow. Then I will beat my big drum to let you know when to pull. You must pull as hard as you can, for my cow is very heavy."

"Never fear," said the whale, "I could pull a dozen cows out of the mud."

"I am sure you could," said the rabbit politely. "Only be sure to begin gently. Then pull harder and harder till you get her out."

The rabbit ran away into the bushes where he had hidden the drum and began to beat it. Then the whale began to pull and the elephant began to pull. In a minute the rope tightened till it was stretched as hard as a bar of iron.

"This is a very heavy cow," said the elephant, "but I'll pull her out." Bracing his fore feet in the earth, he gave a tremendous pull.

But the whale had no way to brace himself.

"Dear me," he said. "That cow must surely be stuck tight." Lashing his tail in the water, he gave a marvelous pull.

He pulled harder; the elephant pulled harder. Soon the whale found himself sliding toward the land. He was so provoked with the cow that he went head first, down to the bottom of the sea.

That was a pull! The elephant was jerked off his feet, and came slipping and sliding toward the sea. He was very angry.

"That cow must be very strong to drag me in this way," he said. "I will brace myself."

Kneeling down on the ground, he twisted the rope around his trunk. Then he began to pull his very best, and soon the whale came up out of the water.

Then each saw that the other had hold of the rope.

"How is this?" cried the whale. "I thought I was pulling Brother Rabbit's cow."

"That is what I thought," said the elephant. "Brother Rabbit is making fun of us. He must pay for this. I forbid him to eat a blade of grass on land, because he played a trick on us."

"And I will not allow him to drink a drop of water in the sea," said the whale.

But Little Rabbit sat in the bushes and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

"Much do I care," he said. "I can get all the green things I want, and I don't like salt water."

—SOUTHERN FOLK TALE.