The Sun is our narrator for these three stories adapted from Aesop’s Fables. He looks down on the Earth and sees all the human folly. He tells us the tale of the Milkmaid whose head is full of dreams. Then he relates the famous story of Juno and the Peacock about a bird who wants magnificent feathers. And his last story features himself and the North Wind.

As ever, these charming tales by Aesop come with morals for life.

Kindly sponsored by Audible. Claim your special offer here.

Read by Natasha.
Adapted by Bertie
Pictures by Milo Winter
Duration 12.10.

In the morning I am soft and gentle. In the middle of the day, I am harsh and white. When the evening comes, I rest my red head on the mountains. Yes, as you have probably guessed by now, I am the sun.

All day long, I look down on the Earth and I see all the things that go on – all the wisdom – and the folly – but mostly the folly. As for the things that go bump in the night – I don’t see any of those – but I hear all the best gossip from my pretty lady friend, the moon.

From my vantage point, I can’t help but see a few juicy stories unfold. I will tell you three of them today, and with the help of the Great storyteller, Aesop, I shall give you a moral for each of them.

The Milkmaid

My first tale is of a milkmaid. Only yesterday, I Looked down and caught sight of her – I did not fail to notice how pretty she was. I watched her going along the lane with a pail of milk on her head. I shone brightly for the lovely girl, and my rays set off her blond hair and made her heart happy. I could see that she was chatting away to nobody but herself. I tuned in my ear and listened to what she was saying:

“This lovely creamy milk will give me plenty of butter to churn,” she said, “Yes, I will make the best butter, and I will take it to market. I will get a good price for my butter, and with the money I make, I will buy a lot of eggs for hatching. How nice it will be when the yard is full of fine young chicks! Then, when May Day comes I will sell the hens, and with the money I’ll buy a lovely new dress for the fair. All the young men will look at me. They will come and try out their smooth talk on me , —but I shall very quickly send them about their business!”"

She smiled , as she thought of the witty one-liners that she would deliver to all the smooth-talking young men. And as she imagined the scene, she tossed her head scornfully. But oh ! Down fell the pail – and out spilled the milk onto the ground. The white creamy liquid trickled into the ditch, and with it, the pretty maid’s day dreams – her butter, her profit, her chickens, her eggs, her new dress, and her vain young men – all disappeared into the ground.

I looked down on all this and tried not to smile at the poor milkmaid’s misfortune. But I could not help remembering the words of a wise old lady : Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched. It’s a  very valuable lesson in life.

Juno and The Peacock

My next story is about the Peacock. He is the most royal of birds – or so he thinks.. When I shine down with my bright rays, [ We are keeping the Sun in the Story] he loves to open up his feathers to show off all his wonderful colours. How he gleams with emerald gold, purple, and azure ! Why, he is so shining, that he considers himself a worthy rival to me ! But he was not always so bright and beautiful. Once, long ago, he was just an ordinary, dusty sort of farmyard bird. This bothered him, for in his heart, he longed for greatness. His life abruptly changed when, one day, as he was pecking grass by the lake, he met the goddess Juno. He knew that his chance for transformation had come .

“Divine Juno, lovely goddess,” he said, “Why are my feathers so plain and ordinary? I want to be beautiful. I long for everyone to admire me. In fact, I want to be the most indisputably magnificent bird in the world. You are a goddess. You can do this for me in an instant. If you work your will, even the Emperor will admire and envy me . I pray, Dear Goddess – make me magnificent.”

Juno looked at the dull and ordinary bird and thought, “How vain and pretentious he is! I will give him what he wants, but I will teach him a lesson.”

When the peacock next saw his reflection in the water, he realised that she had granted his wish – for he was beautiful beyond his dreams. His feathered tail was more magnificent than the tapestry that hung behind the Emperor’s throne. The other birds gathered round to admire him – and how he strutted up and down like a king ! And how he patronised all the scruffy farmyard birds – the hens, the geese, the ducks, and other such riff-raff !

But the the other birds were not gazing at him, as he thought they should. They were looking up into the sky. He too looked up, and he saw how the powerful, and kingly eagle span out his wings, and soared high into the heavens – so high that he flew up to wish me Good Morning through the clouds.

Who could doubt that the eagle was the most royal of all the birds? Not the Ducks and the Geese who squawked in homage to the soaring king.

“Pa,” said the Peacock, “I will fly even higher.” He lifted his wings – but they were heavy and weighed down with decorative feathers. Yes, he looked wonderful, but the sly goddess had made him pay a price for his beauty – he could not longer fly.

“Hmmm”, I thought, as I looked down. “That peacock is all show”. There’s an important lesson here. It’s not only feathers that make fine birds. Oh yes, there is a good the moral in this tale: Don’t harm your strength and your health for the sake of beauty.

The Wind & The Sun

And my last story features a truly radiant character. This, if you will permit me, is a story about myself. I have a rather gusty friend called the North Wind. I was watching in amusement one day how he tormented a man who was walking along the road. He was trying to blow the man’s hat off, and how he huffed and he puffed with all his might. But the man was wise to him, and he held his hat firmly down on his head.

I laughed: “Ho ho North Wind. That man’s got one up on you.”

“Well I bet you can’t do any better,” hissed the North Wind testily.

“I bet I can,” I said. And I shone down with my warmest, most health-giving rays. The man felt gladness as he walked along. He smiled. And then he took his hat off to cool his head.

“There you see,” I said, “Gentle and kind persuasion win where force and bluster fail.”

A very queenly lioness meets first a mosquito and then a mouse. Both these tiny creatures teach her something about respect for small things. This story is based on two of Aesop’s famous fables and we’ve rolled them into one. As with all our Aesop tales, it is told in the voice of one of the characters, in this case, the lioness.

Read by Natasha. Adaptation by Bertie. Duration 6.59. Sponsored by Audible.

Respect. I expect nothing less.

All respect the queen of the African plains. If the zebara or the antelope catch sight of me crouching in the bush, they do not forget to gallop. The elephant and the rhino respect me, and they mind not to tread on my children with their big clumsy feet. Even the snappy crocodile stays clear of me, when I come down to drink at the water.

Yes, respect is good.

And that is why I was so angry when a pesky little fellow failed to show me respect.

Buzzzzzzzzzz !

The mosquito buzzed around my ears and even stung me on the nose. I snapped at the horrid little traitor, and I bit my tongue. Oh, how that hurt ! Then I struck at him with my paw, such a blow that would fell a buffalo, but he slipped through my claws and was laughing at me. The he bit me on the bottom ! The cheek of it !

“Oh great queen”, said the Mosquito. “Bow your head before your master, I the Mosquito, have drunk your blood and defeated you in combat.”

I roared an almighty roar that sent the wildebeest and the giraffe scattering across the savanna.

“Ha ha ha, ” laughed the mosquito. And he flew backwards into a spider’s web. And the spider showed respect to his queen by eating the wretched insect.

A little while after this, I was lying asleep under a tree when I felt something tickling my nose.

I opened one eye and saw that a mouse had scampered onto my face!

“How dare you ! ” I roared. And was about to swipe him a deadly blow with my paw when the mouse begged:

“Oh mighty queen, forgive me! I was running through the long grass, and did not mean to run onto your nose or to disturb your sleep .”

And I laughed at this furry creature and said.

“Little fellow. I was about to kill you but you have shown wisdom and respect for your queen. I pardon your sin.”

“Oh, thank you thank you,” said the mouse. “I only hope that one day I may be of service to your majesty. ”

And I laughed again, for how could a little mouse help a mighty queen?

The weeks went by, and I was out for a midnight stroll when all of a sudden, there was no ground beneath my paws.

Thump. I fell to the bottom of a pit. I tried to spring out, but I was tangled in a net. The more my limbs struggled, the more I became entangled.

A hyena came by and saw me in this sorry trap. He cackled with his ugly voice and taunted me;

“In the morning the men shall come and throw their spears into your side. And then we shall have to find a new queen.”

I snarled with fury and swore to tear him apart when I was free from the snare. But he just laughed his silly laugh.

Towards morning, I had almost given up hope when I heard a little voice.

“My queen,” it said. “At last I may be of service to you.”

I saw the pink nose of the mouse.

“My loyal subject. It does my proud heart good to hear your well meaning words. But I am afraid you must now pay your last respects to your queen, for my limbs are caught in this net, and very soon the sun will rise and the men shall come to kill me.”

“You underestimate the might of a mouse,” said my loyal subject. And he called his wife and children, and together they gnawed through the net. I was free within the hour, just in time to spring out of the pit and give the men who had come to kill me a nasty surprise.

And so that is the story of how I, the queen of the jungle, came to respect those who respect me, no matter how small they might be, because sometimes the smallest of those among us, have the advantage over the mighty and the strong.

Aesop’s famous story has worked its way into the English Language. The dictionary says that to cry wolf is to ” ask for help when you do not need it, with the result that no one believes you when help is necessary.”

In this Storynory version the boy is now an old man, and he looks back on the joke that went badly wrong and landed him with a reputation for silly pranks. It’s a real shorty – but we hope you will enjoy it – and we think it’s quite moving.

Read by Natasha. Duration 6.07

When I was a lad, my father used to send me out to the fields each day to watch over his sheep. Hey-now, there are worse jobs than sitting out in the fresh air all day, but it was boring work for a lad. I longed to be running around with my friends, playing ball, or making boyish mischief.

“Can’t the sheep look after themselves?” I asked my father. “After all, they know how to bleat and munch grass, and there isn’t much else that they do.”

But father said it was important work. And most of importantly of all, I must keep my eyes peeled for the wolf, in case he came sneaking into the fields and grabbed one of the spring lambs.

And so I couldn’t even go to sleep. I had to sit and keep a sharp look out. After a few weeks of this, I got so bored that I began to wish that the wolf would show up and give me something to do.

And then I got thinking to myself. Let’s liven things up a bit, I thought. Let’s play a trick on the villagers. And so I got up and ran as fast as I could into the village shouting at the top of my voice:

“Wolf ! Wolf WOOOOOOOOLF !”

And the villagers grabbed sticks, rolling pins, and pitch-folks and came running up to the field to chase away the wolf.

But when they got there, all was peaceful. The lambs were frolicking as usual, quite unmolested.

And I laughed

“Ha ha! Fooled you all !”

But none of the villagers laughed with me. Some of them grumbled and the blacksmith became quite angry and shouted at me. But he was just a bad sport who couldn’t see the funny side of my joke.

And so a week later I did the same thing again, only this time I put on an even better act. I daubed red paint on my arm, and pretended that the wolf had bitten me. This fooled even the blacksmith, who was on his guard after the last trick I had played.

And when they all arrived breathless in the field I again called out:

“Ha Ha ! Fooled you!”

And this time, quite a few of the villagers were angry with me, and I got quite an ear-wigging from the blacksmith, the teacher, and the iron-monger. When I got home, my father was furious and told me that I had a stupid sense of humour. But I thought it was funny. And so did my friends.

About a week after that, I was sitting up on the hill watching my father’s sheep as usual. It was getting on for evening, and the sun was setting behind the forrest. I would have to spend the night out there, and oh, how lonely and bored was I. Then all of a sudden the sheep dogs started to bark and the flock was running around and bleating like they had all gone mad. Only they hadn’t. There was a wolf among the sheep and he had seized a lamb.

“Wolf ! Wolf ! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLF !” I called out and I ran into the village to get help.

But nobody came. Not one villager. They carried on doing whatever they were doing. Eating supper, drinking ale, or finishing off their work for the day.

‘But please,” I said to the blacksmith, “This time it’s true. There really is a wolf.”

And he just shrugged his shoulders.

You see nobody believes a liar, even when he’s speaking the truth.

And that’s why you should never cry wolf unless you really mean it.

This charming fable by Aesop is retold here in the voice of a simple country mouse. His uncle tempts him to come to the bright city, but he soon finds that its pleasures come with dangers.

If you like this story, you can also hear it in a verse which Natasha read some time ago. This version has been adapted by Bertie.

Read by Natasha. Duration 8.43.

I don’t mind admitting that I’m a simple sort of mouse. I live inside a nice cosy log by the side of a field. My needs are not great. A few sunflower seeds or wheat stalks will do me for a meal. For a special treat, the farmer sometimes leaves me some crumbs of bread and cheese from his lunch. When I am thirsty, I drink from the bubbling stream. And I swear that that pure cold water is the freshest, most delicious taste in the world. Finer than champagne even – and I don’t just mean that as a boast or a figure of speech. I tried champagne once – so I know what I’m talking about.

How did a poor simple country mouse like myself try champagne? Well, I shall tell you.

A while back I received a visit from my uncle, the town mouse. Everyone in my family knows that Uncle Town Mouse is very rich and successful, and lives in a big smart house in the city. It was of course an honour that he should come and stay with me for a weekend away from his business. But to tell you the truth, I felt a little bit nervous? What would he make of my humble abode and my simple tastes?

Well of course he was very nice and polite.

“Charming, simply charming” he said as I showed him around my log.

And when I put some crumbs of cheddar cheese before him for his supper he exclaimed:

“Just the ticket. Exactly what I wanted. Thank you dear nephew for taking such good care of me.”

At night he slept in my spare bed in the hedgerow, and in the morning, when I asked him how he had slept he said:

“Splendid, just splendidly. This clear country air of yours is so restful.”

In fact, he was so full of praise for my country lifestyle that I asked him if he was planning to retire to the countryside. Uncle Town Mouse laughed, and I felt that I had perhaps said something silly or tactless.

“My dear nephew,” he said, “The countryside is all very well for a rest. But the town is the place to live if you appreciate gourmet food, fine wine, and, by the way, the most stylish and elegant lady-mice. Why, I thank you for your hospitality, but I would die of boredom if I lived your life for more than a weekend.”

I was very impressed by my uncle’s words, and I could not stop thinking about the attractions of the city that he had described.

That evening, as he was preparing to leave for home, my uncle said, “Say Nephew, why don’t you come back with me and give your taste buds a real treat. I say – a mouse hasn’t lived until he’s tried gorgonzola cheese – and we always keep a good supply in our larder, not to mention the Ardennes Pâté, avocado pears with French dressing, chicken Vol-au-Vents, mushrooms a la Grecque, and grilled Mediterranean vegetables. Come come. We’ll have a feast. And afterwards we’ll call on some pretty friends of mine.”

When he put it like that, I couldn’t resist. And so that very evening I travelled with my uncle to his house in the city.

And when I first set eyes on Uncle’s house I was truly impressed. It was four storeys high with white stucco pillars and cast iron railings. Inside it was not less magnificent. Crystal chandeliers sparkled over antique furniture and polished oak floors.

Uncle took me directly to the pantry, where the remains of a magnificent banquet were laid on the table. Uncle insisted that we begin with an aperitif of champagne – and as I had never tried it before, the bubbles went straight to my head. I dived into a custard tart and came out all sticky and yellow .

Uncle sat up and his nose switched:

“Oh what a lucky mouse you are,” he exclaimed. “I can smell Truffles !”

And he led me to the other side of the table where we tried some black food that he said was known to be the most delicious in the world. I didn’t like to admit that it tasted a little strange to me.

But then we tried the gorgonzola cheese. Oh my Goodness! Uncle had been right. I hadn’t lived until I tried that wonderful cheese. I didn’t like to be vulgar, but gobbled up a large chunk in a flash. And I was still stuffing myself when I saw a shadow move in the corner. I dived for cover. It probably wasn’t polite to shoot off like that in mid-mouthful, but the reflex action saved my life, for the very next moment a terrible cat pounced on where I had been sitting and eating my fill. Uncle and I scurried across the table and the cat followed, smashing glasses and knocking over jugs and vases. We both jumped off the edge of the table and landed on the ground, but then the maid came in with a broom and was beating the floor with a broom, trying to squash us both. We made it to a hole in the skirting board – but only just. We were both within half an inch of being beaten to death!”

“Wow that was a close shave !” said Uncle. “Exciting hey what !”

My heart was pounding and I had to regain my breath before I could say,

“Yes, a little too exciting for a poor country mouse I’m afraid. I thank you for your hospitality, but I must be off home now. ”

And that’s the story of how I learned that other people’s lives are rarely quite as attractive as they sometimes make them appear to be.

A new take on an old tale. Speedy the Hare gives his version of his famous race with the tortoise and he would like you to know that, whatever you may have heard, he is the fastest creature on the farm. Truly!

This story is available as an interactive Powerpoint file and Whiteboard resource for schools and home schools. Download from here. Many thanks to Danny Nicholson.

Read by Natasha. Version by Bertie. Duration 13.18
More Aesop Tales

Pictures for Storynory by Sophie Green.
Click pictures to make them bigger.
Hello. My name is Speedy, and for good reason. I’ve got long, long legs and I can really go ! You can catch me if you can – but I don’t think you will.

In a race, I come first. Always. I never, never lose. Well alright, there was that one time that I took the silver medal. But it only ever happened once. It’s so unfair that people keep going on about it. I blame that Aesop. He’s the one who wrote it all down.

It happened in March, and that’s the time of year that we hares go a bit crazy you know. We’re so busy springing in the Spring that sometimes our thoughts just can’t quite keep up with our legs. Look, I’ll tell you what happened – just so that you understand that it wasn’t really my fault. It could have happened to anyone.

Do you know that old tortoise who lives in the next field? He’s so slow, that the first time I saw him I thought he was a rock. In fact, I’ve seen rocks than move faster than he can. His head looks like, well, a cabbage. And his feat look like Brussels sprouts. Quite frankly, he’s a ridiculous creature.

One day I was leaping around the fields and he was just watching me, and nodding that cabbage-like head of his. I bounced up to him and said, “Come on you lazy old thing – is that all the exercise you take – just nodding all day long? I’m surprised you don’t nod off to sleep.

The tortoise didn’t answer. His mouth was full of grass and he was chewing – very slowly.

Just then the fox popped out of the hedge-row. He scratched his flea bites and said:

“Don’t you know that the tortoise hibernates?”

“Hiber-what’s?” I asked.

“Hibernates,” said the fox again. It means that he goes to sleep for the whole winter.”

“HA! Sleeps – For the whole winter!” I said. “That’s incredible. He must be the laziest creature alive. In fact, it’s hardly fair to say he is alive. If he was dead it would be hard to tell the difference.”

It was all to easy to mock the tortoise. He couldn’t be bothered even to stick up for himself. He just kept on munching, so slowly.

But the fox, who’s a big know-it-all, replied for him:

“Most likely he will be around after we are both long gone. Tortoises can live for over 100 years.”

“A 100 years! “ I exclaimed. “Just nodding, chewing, and occasionally plodding. I’d get bored out of my mind. I have to run and jump and win races. If you’ve got speed, then you can really know that you’re alive!”

Then that wily old fox said: “I’ll lay a bet that the tortoise can beat you in a race. Not a quick dash of course. He’s hardly a sprinter. But a proper race over a good distance. Say – up to the top of that hill and back. I don’t believe you’ll beat him in a race like that.”

“Pah!” I said. “I’ll beat that old tortoise over any distance, any day, any time.”

And that’s how I got myself into that infamous race with the tortoise. The fox arranged it all for us the next day at noon. The sun was high in the sky, and the heat was scorching. It was more like summer than spring.

All the local creatures came to see the fun. The crows cawed and the cows munched like they normally do. But you could tell that something interesting was going to happen because they were swishing their tails, and not just to keep the flies off. It was the biggest thing to happen around these parts for ages.

Of course almost everyone was backing me to win. You only had to look at me, lean,fit, with a terrific bounce in my step. And then look at HIM, old, cabbage head, with a great shell on his back. I was the clear favourite. Only the fox was backing the tortoise. He was taking bets off his cronies, the badger and the rat. If I won, he would do them a month of services and favours. And if the tortoise won, they would have to work for him for a whole month. The badger and the rat thought the fox must have gone soft in the head to make such a silly bet.

At last the fox called out: “Ready, Steady Go !” I hung around for a moment to see the tortoise lumber off the starting line, but he was taking so long about it that I got bored and shot off towards the hill. I was flying across the field, but I must say, the hill was a long way. Even I couldn’t get there in a moment. At the end of the field I looked over my shoulder and saw that the tortoise had hardly got started. I’d say his top speed was about one mile per week. I had no doubt at all that victory was mine.

I crossed another three fields, and at last I got to the hill and I started to make my way up. It was tougher going now, and my legs were starting to feel less springy than usual. I took another look back and saw that tortoise was only half way across the first field. I decided to stop for a breather and a bit of a chuckle.

How did the fox ever think that old cabbage-head could beat me? Doesn’t he know that I’m speedy by name, speedy by nature? And I thought he was smart.

In fact, just to show him how confident I was of winning, I sat down. “Give the old lumber-along a sporting chance,” I said to myself. “And when he gets near, I’ll dash off again. That will make the race more entertaining.”

And so I stretched out and chewed on a long piece of juicy grass. I knew one of the beady-eyed crows would see me and report back to the crowd how I was so far ahead that I could afford to take things easy. In fact, I thought it wouldn’t do any harm just to close my eyes for a moment or two. My eyelids certainly were feeling a bit heavy after running up hill under a hot sun. In fact, I thought that 40 winks would refresh me, and I would set off all the faster when I got going again.

And oh! how pleasant it was to lie down on such a glorious day. The grasshoppers were singing and the breeze was rustling ever so gently in the trees. Soon I was dreaming of victory. They would be talking about this on the farm for weeks. But dear, dear, dear me. I must have well and truly dozed off, because when I woke up, I shivered. The sun was going down, and the air was a bit cooler. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was, and then I recalled the race. I stood up and scanned the hill below for sight of the tortoise. Perhaps he had just done the logical thing and given up and gone back home. So I started to jog up to the top of the hill, and then run gently back down again. Still no sign of my rival.

It was almost dark when I got back to the farm gate and the finishing line. The cows had gone off to be milked, and only the fox, the badger, and the rat were waiting for me.

“Hello guys,” I said. “What’s my prize?”

“What’s your prize?” said the badger. “You’re prize is that we are working for the fox for a month.”

“GRRRR ! ” said the rat, really quite angry. “You’ve well and truly let us down. You might be Speedy by name, but your dead lazy by nature. Beaten by a 100 year old slow-coach. It’s disgusting, truly disgusting.”

Only the old fox had a sly grin on his face.

“Thank you hare,” he said. “You’ve proved me right, as I usually am. The tortoise plodded in home just over an hour ago. It only goes to show that slow and steady always wins the race.”

And so now you know all about the one and only time that I came less than first in a race. Of course you shouldn’t go supposing that the tortoise is faster than me. It was just a one-off kind of disaster. I mean, oversleeping like that, it could have happened to anyone. I’m still the fastest creature on the farm – and don’t let any one tell you different.

Well I must dash. No time to hang around chatting like this. Catch you later !

And that was the story of the hare and the tortoise, as told by the Hare.

This tale with a moral set in India was first posted as one of Four Aesop Fables. told by Natasha in the voice of a cute rat. Be My Friend Animations in The Philippines turned it into this fabulous 3D version. Thanks ever so much ! And they’ve promised to send us more animated Aesops. Contact: bmfanimations (at) gmail.com

Download the movie to your desktop. (Right click, save as)

• The Rat And the Elephant – Told by the Rat
• The Grasshopper and the Ants – Told by the Grasshopper
• The Fox and the Crow – Told by the Fox
• The Little Mouse – Told by the Mouse

All voices by Natasha. Duration 13.11

The Rat And the Elephant

Some people say that rats are ugly creatures. When they see a rat running a long, they go ee-yuck ! Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve always thought that this was rather rude. Rats can have hurt feelings too you know ! In any case, When I catch sight of my reflection in a stream, I think I’m rather cute.

Just recently, I was trotting along the King’s Highway, in my sweet little way, when I heard a great commotion on the road up ahead. Who or what is causing all that fuss? I wondered.

When I got closer, I saw the king himself, riding along on top of a great fat lump of an elephant. The crowd of onlookers was ooo-ing and aah-ing full of admiration for that stupid beast with a nose that’s far too big for her face. She’s much uglier than me, I thought. And I so I started to spring up and down and say, hey every one, Why not look at me ! I’m such a cutie-pie! I could join the king’s household and be a Royal Rat, if only there was any justice in the world.

At first, nobody noticed me. They were all too busy oggling that stupid elephant. And little did I know, but riding behind the elephant in a carriage, was the princess, and she was holding a beastly cat in her arms. When he caught sight of me, the cat lept out of the carriage and started to chase me. I had to run for my life, and just popped down a hole in time before the cat could eat me up.

And so now I’ve changed my mind about wanting people to notice me and admire me. I’ve decided that sometimes, it’s far better not to draw attention to yourself, but just to get on quietly with your own business.

The Grasshopper and the Ants

I’m an artist, and as everyone knows, artists are usually rather poor. But normally, I don’t mind about that. When the sun is shining, I sit on my favourite blade of grass and play music for everyone to listen too. I have lots of friends, and together we’ve formed an orchestra.

Everyone loves our music and says how cheerful it makes them feel. Well almost everyone. There’s a family of ants who never stop to listen. They take themselves far to seriously for music or enjoyment. All they do is work, work, work, even when the sun is shining.

“Hey You Ants” I said to them. “It’s a lovely summer’s day, Why don’t you rest your feet for a while, and listen to my sweet music?”.

“No time to stop,” one of them said, panting away. “We’re far too busy stocking up food for winter.”

The months went by, and the days got shorter and colder. I was shivering so much that I couldn’t even sing. A hard frost was on the ground, and there wasn’t a crumb to eat. I was so hungry ! So I went to see that busy family of ants and said, “Please Sirs, I’m a poor starving musician. Spare me a few crumbs from your store of food.”

But do you know what? Those ants just turned their noses up at me. They were so stingy that that they wouldn’t share any of their food. Oh Well, I’ll just have to go hungry this winter. In the New Year I’ll make a resolution. When the times are good, I’ll remember to save some food for a rainy day.

The Fox and the Crow

I bet you can’t guess what I like to eat best of all? Yes, I knew that you would say that foxes like to eat hens best, and stolen ones at that. And I don’t mind admitting that I wouldn’t ever say no to a nice fat chicken wing once in a while. But not many people know that what foxes appreciate even more than chicken, is a nice piece of cheese once in a while.

Well today I ate a wonderfully rich and creaming slice of cheddar for my breakfast. It was kindly given to me by a beautiful black-feathered bird whose voice is even more wonderful than her looks. No, I don’t mean a sky-lark, or a fancy bird of paradise. I’m talking about Miss Crow up in that tree.

It was a fine bright morning, and I was following my sharp nose through the woods in search of a bite to eat, when I caught a cheesy smell on the breeze. I looked up into the tree and there on the branch I saw Miss Crow, looking terribly pleased with herself, for in her beak she held a large piece of cheese. It was stolen, no doubt, from the farmer over the hill, but I’m not one to go around accusing people of this and that. And so I called up to my neighbour and said,

“Good Morning Miss Crow, You are looking very lovely today, If I may say so.” And Miss crow cocked her head on one side and looked at me with her beedy little eye, but she kept her beak firmly closed on the cheese.

“Such a charming creature,” I mused to myself, making sure nevertheless that she could overhear. “Such a fine sheen on those wonderous black feathers. What wings ! what Legs ! And the beak! Exquisite! ”

I could see that Miss crow was paying close attention to my words, even though she was pretending ever so hard not to hear.

So I gazed up at the tree with admiration and love in my eyes and said, “Ah, my heart is smitten by this wonderful bird. If only I could hear her voice. I’m sure that such a charming creature must sing most sweetly!” If I could but hear one line of her song, I would hail her as the Princess of The Forest !”

And now I could see my words had hit home. Swelling with pride, Miss crow puffed up her feathers and began to sing the most lovely music I have ever heard.

“CAAWWWWWWWWW!!

Well alright, I know that you are saying that Miss Crow’s voice is not exactly star quality, but to me that “cawww!” was just the sound that I’d been waiting for. Because as soon as she opened her beak, the cheese fell to the ground and I snappped up my breakfast.

Which only goes to show that

Flattery will get you everywhere.

The Little Mouse

“Mummy ! Mummy! Thank goodness it’s you! I’ve just escaped by a whisker from the most frightful scary monster that there ever was !”

“Just now, I was strolling along minding my own business when, as I turned into the farm yard, I saw two strange creatures. One of them looked very kind and fluffy, and had lovely whiskers, but the other was a scary, scary monster! Woww !

“On top of his head and in front of his neck hung pieces of red raw meat. He walked about this way and that, tearing up the ground with his toes, and beating his arms against his sides. The moment he caught sight of me he opened his pointed mouth as if to swallow me, and then he let out a cry that frightened me almost to death.”

“If it had not been for that terrible monster, I would have made friends with the pretty creature, who looked so good and gentle. He had thick, velvety fur, a soft face, and his eyes were bright and shining. As he looked at me he waved his fine long tail and smiled.

“I am sure he was just about to speak to me when the monster I have told you about let out a screaming yell, and I ran for my life.”

Mother Mouse

“My little mouse, that gentle creature you saw was none other than the Cat. Under his kindly appearance, he bears a grudge against every one of us. The other was nothing but the Corkrel, who wouldn’t harm you in the least. As for the Cat, he eats us. So be thankful, my child, that you escaped with your life, and, as long as you live, never judge people by their looks.

A slave runs away from his master and hides in the woods – then finds himself face to face with a limping lion….

The tale of Androcles and the Lion is said to have been written by Aesop – the great Greek storyteller who always summed up his stories from the animal kingdom with a moral. In the case of Androcles, the lesson is that “Gratitude is the sign of a noble soul!”

Read by Natasha. Duration 6 minutes 5 seconds

It happened in ancient times that a slave named Androcles escaped from his master and fled into the forest, and he wandered there for a long time until he was weary and well nigh spent with hunger and despair.

Just then he heard a lion near him moaning and groaning and at times roaring terribly. Tired as he was Androcles rose up and rushed away from the lion; but as he made his way through the bushes he stumbled over the root of a tree and fell down twisting his ankle, and when he tried to get up there he saw the lion coming towards him, limping on three feet and holding his forepaw in front of him.

Poor Androcles was in despair; he had not strength to rise and run away, and there was the lion coming upon him. But when the great beast came up to him instead of attacking him it kept on moaning and groaning and looking at Androcles, who saw that the lion was holding out his right paw, which was covered with blood and much swollen. Looking more closely at it Androcles saw a great big thorn pressed into the paw, which was the cause of all the lion’s trouble. Plucking up courage he seized hold of the thorn and drew it out of the lion’s paw, who roared with pain when the thorn came out, but soon after found such relief from it that he rubbed up against Androcles and showed, in every way that he knew, that he was truly thankful for being relieved from such pain.

Instead of eating him up he brought him a young deer that he had slain, and Androcles managed to make a meal from it. For some time the lion continued to bring the game he had killed to Androcles, who became quite fond of the huge beast.

But one day a number of soldiers came marching through the forest and found Androcles, and as he could not explain what he was doing they took him prisoner and brought him back to the town from which he had fled. Here his master soon found him and brought him before the authorities, and he was condemned to death because he had fled from his master.

Now it used to be the custom to throw murderers and other criminals to the lions in a huge circus, so that while the criminals were punished the public could enjoy the spectacle of a combat between them and the wild beasts.

So Androcles was condemned to be thrown to the lions, and on the appointed day he was led forth into the Arena and left there alone with only a spear to protect him from the lion. The Emperor of Rome was in the royal box that day and gave the signal for the lion to come out and attack Androcles. But when it came out of its cage and got near Androcles, what do you think it did? Instead of jumping upon him it rubbed up against him and stroked him with its paw and made no attempt to do him any harm.

It was of course the lion which Androcles had met in the forest. The Emperor, surprised at seeing such a strange behavior in so cruel a beast, summoned Androcles to him and asked him how it happened that this particular lion had lost all its cruelty of character. So Androcles told the Emperor all that had happened to him and how the lion was showing its gratitude for his having relieved it of the thorn. Thereupon the Emperor pardoned Androcles and ordered his master to set him free, while the lion was taken back into the forest and let loose to enjoy freedom once more.