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This picturesque Japanese tale has loads of charm, but is a little bit sad. It will take you to a beautiful underwater world, and back to the reality of mortality on dry land.

These days we adapt many of the traditional tales ourselves, but this one is taken more or less straight from the English text of B. H. Chamberlain who published a number of Japanese stories in the 1880s.

Read by Natasha. Duration 8.46.

Long, long ago there lived on the coast of the sea of Japan a young fisherman named Urashima, a kindly lad and clever with his rod and line.

Well, one day he went out in his boat to fish. But instead of catching any fish, what do you think he caught? Why! a great big tortoise, with a hard shell and such a funny wrinkled old face and a tiny tail. Now I must tell you something which very likely you don’t know; and that is that tortoises always live a thousand years,—at least Japanese tortoises do. So Urashima thought to himself: “A fish would do for my dinner just as well as this tortoise,—in fact better. Why should I go and kill the poor thing, and prevent it from enjoying itself for another nine hundred and ninety-nine years? No, no! I won’t be so cruel. I am sure mother wouldn’t like me to.” And with these words, he threw the tortoise back into the sea.

The next thing that happened was that Urashima went to sleep in his boat; for it was one of those hot summer days when almost everybody enjoys a nap of an afternoon. And as he slept, there came up from beneath the waves a beautiful girl, who got into the boat and said: “I am the daughter of the Sea-God, and I live with my father in the Dragon Palace beyond the waves. It was not a tortoise that you caught just now, and so kindly threw back into the water instead of killing it. It was myself. My father the Sea-God had sent me to see whether you were good or bad.

“We now know that you are a good, kind boy who doesn’t like to do cruel things; and so I have come to fetch you. You shall marry me, if you like; and we will live happily together for a thousand years in the Dragon Palace beyond the deep blue sea.”

So Urashima took one oar, and the Sea-God’s daughter took the other; and they rowed, and they rowed, and they rowed till at last they came to the Dragon Palace where the Sea-God lived and ruled as King over all the dragons and the tortoises and the fishes.

Oh dear! what a lovely place it was! The walls of the Palace were of coral, the trees had emeralds for leaves and rubies for berries, the fishes’ scales were of silver, and the dragons’ tails of solid gold. Just think of the very most beautiful, glittering things that you have ever seen, and put them all together, and then you will know what this Palace looked like. And it all belonged to Urashima; for was he not the son-in-law of the Sea-God, the husband of the lovely Dragon Princess?

Well, they lived on happily for three years, wandering about every day among the beautiful trees with emerald leaves and ruby berries. But one morning Urashima said to his wife: “I am very happy here. Still I want to go home and see my father and mother and brothers and sisters. Just let me go for a short time, and I’ll soon be back again.” “I don’t like you to go,” said she; “I am very much afraid that something dreadful will happen. However, if you will go, there is no help for it. Only you must take this box, and be very careful not to open it. If you open it, you will never be able to come back here.”

So Urashima promised to take great care of the box, and not to open it on any account; and then, getting into his boat, he rowed off, and at last landed on the shore of his own country.

But what had happened while he had been away? Where had his father’s cottage gone to? What had become of the village where he used to live? The mountains indeed were there as before; but the trees on them had been cut down. The little brook that ran close by his father’s cottage was still running; but there were no women washing clothes in it any more. It seemed very strange that everything should have changed so much in three short years. So as two men chanced to pass along the beach, Urashima went up to them and said: “Can you tell me please where Urashima’s cottage, that used to stand here, has been moved to?”—“Urashima?” said they; “why! it was four hundred years ago that he was drowned out fishing. His parents, and his brothers, and their grandchildren are all dead long ago. It is an old, old story. How can you be so foolish as to ask after his cottage? It fell to pieces hundreds of years ago.”

Then it suddenly flashed across Urashima’s mind that the Sea-God’s Palace beyond the waves, with its coral walls and its ruby fruits and its dragons with tails of solid gold, must be part of fairy-land, and that one day there was probably as long as a year in this world, so that his three years in the Sea-God’s Palace had really been hundreds of years. Of course there was no use in staying at home, now that all his friends were dead and buried, and even the village had passed away. So Urashima was in a great hurry to get back to his wife, the Dragon Princess beyond the sea. But which was the way? He couldn’t find it with no one to show it to him. “Perhaps,” thought he, “if I open the box which she gave me, I shall be able to find the way.” So he disobeyed her orders not to open the box,—or perhaps he forgot them, foolish boy that he was. Anyhow he opened the box; and what do you think came out of it? Nothing but a white cloud which floated away over the sea. Urashima shouted to the cloud to stop, rushed about and screamed with sorrow; for he remembered now what his wife had told him, and how, after opening the box, he should never be able to go to the Sea-God’s Palace again. But soon he could neither run nor shout any more.

Suddenly his hair grew as white as snow, his face got wrinkled, and his back bent like that of a very old man. Then his breath stopped short, and he fell down dead on the beach.

Poor Urashima! He died because he had been foolish and disobedient. If only he had done as he was told, he might have lived another thousand years. Wouldn’t you like to go and see the Dragon Palace beyond the waves, where the Sea-God lives and rules as King over the Dragons and the tortoises and the fishes, where the trees have emeralds for leaves and rubies for berries, where the fishes’ tails are of silver and the dragons’ tails all of solid gold?

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One of Japan’s oldest legends tells us how the gods invented fun and music. It all began when the Sun Goddess went into an epic sulk and hid in her cave. The gods had to find a way to cheer her up and coax her out. The story of how they did so is both beautiful and amusing.

Incidentally, the Japanese flag includes the symbol of the sun in the form of a red disk.

Read by Elizabeth. Duration 7.32. Text by Bertie.

At the dawn of time, Susano-o, the spirit of the sea and storms, was making ready to leave heaven and to gush down to Earth. His sister the far-shining Sun Goddess, said:

“Oh impetuous brother of mine. Before you go, let us exchange tokens of our love and affection for one another.”

Susano-o bowed to his sister, drew his sword from his side, and presented it to her. She accepted the gift, and then chewed off pieces of the metal blade in her mouth, before spitting them out.
Instantly, the fragments of the sword sprang up as three beautiful daughters. Then the sparkling Sun Goddess took jewels from her hair and gave them to her brother. He crunched them up with his teeth and spat them out. They became five strong sons.

“They are my sons,” said the goddess, “because they were born from my jewels.”

“No, they are my sons,” said the storm god, “because you gave me those jewels,”

And thus the brother and sister began to quarrel. The stormy tempered Susano-o grew so angry that he swept through his sister’s rice fields and destroyed them. He flung manure all over her garden, and frightened her maidens so that they hurt themselves on their spinning wheels.

The bright goddess was greatly offended by the evil pranks of her brother. She fell into a most dreadful sulk, and hid herself in a cave in a remote part of the earth. There was no more light, and heaven and earth were plunged into darkness.

Amid this gloom, thousands of gods and spirits gathered in a heavenly river bed to discuss what to do. One of the oldest and wisest gods proposed that they make a mirror, to tempt the goddess to come out hiding and gaze at her beauty. Another suggested that they should sew a beautiful dress as a gift to sooth her temper. And still other gods said that they must offer her jewels and even a palace. At last they decided to make all these thing gifts, and they set to work.

When they were ready, the divine ones gathered outside the cave of the Sun Goddess. They lit bonfires so that they could see in the darkness, and they called the goddess by her name, Amaterasu, but no matter how many times they called, she remaining lurking within the shadows of her hiding place.

The gods needed to do better than if they were to gain her attention. And so they began to make music. They clashed symbols and banged wooden clappers together. The plump goddess of mirth, with dimpled cheeks and eyes full of fun, lead a dance. She performed on top of a giant drum that thundered with her every step. She held a stick in her hand with bells tied to it so that they rang out as she danced. Farm-yard cockerels joined in with crowing. You can imagine what a lovely concert they made !

The dancing goddess of mirth wore a dress that was held together with vines. As she waved her arms and pranced about, the dress became looser and looser until it fell off altogether and she had not a stitch of clothing on her. The gods found this so hilarious that they all laughed until the heavens clapped with thunder.

Only then did curiosity get the better of the far shining one, and she peeped out of her cave. She saw her bright face reflected in the mirror that had been placed just in front of the opening, and she was astonished by her own beauty. But she did not have long to gaze, because a strong-handed god seized hold of her arm and dragged her out of the cave. Then all the heavens and earth were lit, the grass became green again, the flowers blazoned with a multitude of colours, and human beings looked upon one another’s faces.

And there was another benefit from this gloomy episode in the history of creation. This was the first time that music, dance, and fun were known on the face of the earth. And these divine gifts have brightened human lives ever since.

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This parable from the Middle East has a mysterious and spiritual tone, and is also rather intriguing. It’s about a slave who asks his master for his freedom. A series of adventures bring him great good fortune, but fortune can always be reversed again.

Read by Natasha. Adapted for Storynory by Bertie. Duration 15.41.

In ancient times, in the city of Tyre, there lived a merchant, who had amassed a great fortune trading in silks, carpets, and dyes. He owned over 150 slaves, some of whom served in his magnificent mansion, and others in his warehouses by the docks. Most of his slaves worked hard, but only if they were being watched. If the master was not there, they would laze around or steal, for there is no great incentive for a slave to make an effort unless it is to avoid punishment.

There were some exceptional slaves, of course, and one of them was called Ziad. Ziad did his best for his master no matter whether he was being watched or not. He was intelligent, and diligent, and above all honest. Over the years the merchant began to rely on Ziad to keep his accounts and to oversee the goods being loaded and unloaded onto his ships. He rewarded him with tasty food, comfortable quarters, and smart uniforms. If you had met Ziad for the first time, it is unlikely that you would have taken him for a slave.

After Ziad had served his master faithfully for twenty years of his adult life, he came to him in his office and requested his freedom.

When the merchant heard the word “freedom” on the lips of his most trusted slave, he was dismayed, because he knew how difficult it would be to find another as reliable as this one.

“Ziad! Ziad ! ” he exclaimed, “ My dear dear Ziad, have I not treated you like my own son? Are you not satisfied with your privileges? Ask me for anything, but not your freedom, for it would grieve me too greatly to lose you. What is it you require? Fine clothes? A carriage and horses? Your own house? Just say the word, and it shall be yours.”

Ziad bowed his head and replied: “No master. I do not wish for any of these things from you.”

For a moment the merchant was mystified. He pondered what more he could offer. He thought: “The follow bargains well. He’s holding out for something really costly.” And then he had an idea. He stood up from his chair, and walked round to the front of his desk where Ziad was standing. He put his arm around the slave’s shoulder and said,

“Come come. There is no need to be shy. I see now what it is that you desire. You have all that you need in my service except for your own family. But do not trouble yourself a moment longer, for there is no problem that a little money can’t solve. Come with me in the morning to the market place, and let us choose a beautiful wife for you. “

At this, the faithful slave became agitated and said:

“Master I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind treatment and generosity. But I did not come here to ask you for anything but my freedom. I lack for nothing but this one thing. I ask you for this, no more and no less. If I have served you faithfully all these years, if I have every helped your enterprises to prosper, if I have never asked for anything else from you, grant me this one request, for my life can have no meaning unless I am a free man.”

The merchant was baffled. He banged his fist on the desk and exclaimed: “Freedom? What use is freedom to you? You can’t spend it. You can’t eat it. You can’t wear it. Freedom, I tell you, will bring you nothing but struggle and stress. A free man has worries and responsibilities. Take it from me, it’s far , far better to be a slave in the service of a good master, and to have all your needs taken care of. “

But Ziad replied: “Sir, you are indeed a good master. The best a slave could hope for. You provide all my material needs and much more. But what use are possessions or a family to me, if I am not a freeman, and my children will be born into slavery? I long for the thrill of freedom, to succeed or fail in life, and either way, to be the only one who can take the credit or the blame. “

The merchant thought his slave had taken leave of his senses, and he dismissed him from his office at the top of his voice. He worried that the high standard of Ziad’s work would fall off, and when the merchant next went to the Temple, he thought he could hear the voice of the Goddess of Wealth telling him that he had had been ungrateful to his faithful slave, and would suffer accordingly. That evening he called Ziad to him, and gave him not only his freedom, but an entire ship that was already loaded with silks and merchandise. He thanked him for his good service, and told him he could set sail with the ship in the morning and keep all the proceeds of the trade.

And so it was, that Ziad’s life was transformed overnight. By noon the following day, the former slave was a free man at sea in charge of his own cargo. Bellow deck, the galley slaves leaned into their oars and pulled the ship away from the city of Tyre where he had been born and had lived all his life in the service of the merchant. The ship followed the coast northwards, and he watched the little rocky coves, the sandy beaches, the sparkling cliffs and the cyprus trees as they glided by. Eventually, when night feel, a cabin boy rolled out his bedding for him on the deck, and he slept under the stars. When he awoke the next morning, the coast had disappeared from view. All he could see was sky and blue-green water. He stood up, and went over to where the crew were eating their breakfast. He thought that the captain gave him rather a strange look, and he was right – because later that morning, as he was standing by the rail looking out to sea, three sailors came up behind him and tipped him overboard. The captain was now a rich man.

Ziad, the freeman of Tyre, was rising and falling below the waves and gulping sea water into his lungs. But the goddess of Tyre was watching over her newest merchant, and she did not wish to see him drown. She sent a smiling dolphin to his aid. Ziad clung to the dolphin’s neck, and it lifted him up on its back and carried him to an island. When they were not far from shore, some fishermen who were mending their nets on the beach, spotted the man riding on the dolphin and they came out in their boats to fetch him.

Freedom had still more surprises in store for the former slave. As the fishermen brought him to dry land, a crowd of people came down onto the beach to greet him. They lifted him up onto their shoulders and carried him to the gates of a great city, where he was met by still more people who hailed and cheered him on the way. He was placed in a carriage, and driven to a palace where slaves bathed him and dressed him in fine robes, placed a crown on his head, and led him to a throne of gold. Cymbals clashed, drums thundered, soldiers saluted, nobles and courtiers threw themselves prostrate on the ground, and priests sprinkled scented water over him.

King Ziad – because that was who he had become – served his people as faithfully as he had served his master. He passed wise laws and judgements, he made advantageous treaties, he stamped out corruption, and he upheld the island’s religion. One day at the temple, when he no longer needed an interpreter to speak to the island people, he had a confidential conversation with the High Priest. He asked him how it was that the people had chosen him, a wretched wonderer washed up on these shores, as their king.

The high priest answered, in a low voice so that nobody else could hear,

“Sire, every seven years the island spirits send a poor wandering soul to our island. It is our custom to elevate this sea-tramp to the thrown, and for him rule in splendor for seven years, and to enjoy all the luxuries of kingship. But at the end of his term, he is stripped of his royal garments, put aboard a ship, and deposited on a bare and desolate island, where he will live out the remains of his life as naked, wretched and miserable as the day that he was washed up on our shores.”

The former slave was greatly disturbed to learn that that there was a fixed term to his good fortune, and that he must end it all in misery. He was filled with thoughts of dark foreboding for the future, and his courtiers noticed that there were dark shadows under their king’s eyes, and that his forehanded was knotted with strain.

After a week of sleepless nights, King Ziad returned to the temple, and prayed to the spirits of the Island for wisdom and guidance: A voice spoke to him thus:

“ At present thou art king, and mayest do as pleaseth thee; therefore, send workmen to this island, let them build houses, till the ground, and beautify the surroundings. The barren soil will be changed into fruitful fields, people will journey thither to live, and thou wilt have established a new kingdom for thyself, with subjects to welcome thee in gladness when thou shalt have lost thy power here.”

And the king heard these words, and saw their wisdom. He decreed for people and materials to travel to the desolate island, and for its transformation to begin. And for the remaining years of his reign, he prepared for the years that would follow it. The desolate island blossomed and prospered into a veritable paradise, and gradually more and more people went to live there At last its beauty and wealth far outshone even his present kingdom.

At the end of seven years, just as the priest had warned, his own guards stripped him of his royal robes and he was led naked to a ship, and transported to the desolate island where he was deposited on the beach on the spot where all the previous tramp kings who had proceeded him had also been marooned. But in his case, people came to greet him and to clothe him, and to hail him as their prince, and Ziad lived out his days on the once desolate island in even greater comfort and splendor than he had ever known before.

And that’s the story of the Desolate island. I have been wondering what the meaning of it all is and this is what Bertie told me. He says that if you like, you can see the story this way. The former slave arrives on the first island helpless and unclothed, just like a baby is born into the world. He lives his life on the island free to do as he pleases, but there is a fixed term to his time there – just as we all must live and then die. As he is wise, he makes preparations for the next world and stores up good things to make the desolate island into a paradise. When he is forced to leave the first island, it is as if he has died, but because he has thought of the next world, he arrives in a heavenly place.

Anyway you can often read lots of different things into stories.

Text Copyright Hugh Fraser 2010

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The Emperor of China has such a vivid dream of his true love, that he is able to describe her to an artist who paints her portrait. A courtier then takes the picture of the Emperor’s dream girl, and goes out in search of her in the real world.

Although this story is set in China, it actually comes from Persia. Bertie found it in a book called “Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers by William Alexander Clouston” (1890) and he thought it was an exceptionally charming story. He’s rewritten his own version in modern English.

Read by Elizabeth. Duration 8.57. Storynory version by Bertie.

The Emperor of China was in love with a dream, or to be more precise, with a girl whom he had seen in his dreams, but never in real life. Every night when he fell asleep, he saw her walking in a garden, wearing the most beautiful silks. He could hear her soft voice singing to herself. He could see her pick a cherry from a bowl and pop it into her delicate mouth.

He was so entranced with his dream girl that he asked the court painter to create a portrait of her. He described her elegant feet, her rounded nose, and everything about her, including the exact way she shook her head with a playful frown on her forehead – like so. And as the artist was very skilled, he turned the Emperor’s words into their perfect likeness in paint.

Although the Emperor was pleased with the picture, his courtiers understood that he would be even more delighted by a living copy of the dream, made out of flesh and blood. One of them, realizing that he would receive a rich reward for discovering this beauty in real life, swore on oath to the emperor that he would find her within a year. The emperor agreed to let this young man take the portrait with him, and he set out in search of her.

He traveled through villages and cities, along rivers and over mountains, and where-ever he went, he showed the portrait of the dream–girl to those whom he met. Often, a cunning stranger, hoping to connect his family to the Emperor, would lead him to his or her own daughter. He found several young women who indeed were very like the portrait, but none who bore an exact likeness to it. Eventually, as the year drew to a close, he began to fear the Emperor’s anger when he confessed that he had failed in his quest. He wondered if it was safe to return to the imperial court without the dream girl. But as he was riding along the bottom of a deep ravine, he met an old hermit. He showed him the picture, and the hermit immediately recognized it as the portrait as Princess Rúm.

The young man hurried as fast as he could to the palace belonging to the father of the princess. The father confirmed that the picture was the exact likeness of his daughter. The young man was allowed to glimpse her walking in the garden, and he saw that it was true. He had found the object of his quest. In great excitement, he told the prince that The Emperor wished to marry his daughter. But the prince replied:

“Unfortunately, my daughter has a great aversion to all men. On her sixteenth birthday she had a dream in which she saw a peacock and his family. He was a vein bird who liked to puff out his chest and make a great display of his plumage. All the females were greatly impressed by him. But when a polecat came into the garden, the proud peacock ran and hid behind the sheds while his wife and children were attacked and eaten. Ever since that dream, the princess has taken the view that all men are selfish and good for nothing. She has resolved never to marry.”

The young man was greatly disappointed with this news. He returned to the Emperor’s palace, expecting to be punished for failing to live up to his boastful promise to bring back the real-life likeness of the picture. He fell down before the Emperor, told him of his discovery, and begged for mercy.

But the emperor was not angry. In fact he was pleased, because it had turned out that the girl, like himself, was a great dreamer. He told the young man to return to the princess’s father, to beg an audience with the young woman, and to relate to her the following story:

One morning in spring, a family of dear were nibbling grass on the river bank when suddenly a flood of melted snow flashed down from the mountains. The fawn was carried away by the water. The doe, in terror for her life, fled away from the banks. The stag, however, jumped into the water and struggled to save the fawn, until he himself was swept away and drowned.

The young man returned to the palace of Princess Rum. He knelt before her in the garden and said:

“Your highness. One who dreams of your hand in marriage has asked me to tell you the following story…”

At the mention of “marriage”, young girl shook her head with a frown, but the messenger continued resolutely to relate the Emperor’s dream:
“One morning in spring, a family of dear were nibbling grass on the river bank when suddenly a flood of melted snow flashed down from the mountains. The fawn was carried away by the water. The doe, in terror for her life, fled away from the banks. The stag, however, jumped into the water and struggled to save the fawn, until he himself was swept away and drowned…. until he caught up with the fawn further down the stream and saved him”

The princess listened to the story and was impressed by how closely it resembled her own dream, although one could draw a very different conclusion from it. She thought how remarkable it was that life had brought an reply to a concern that had existed only in her head. She told the messenger to wait while she walked around the garden and thought things over. Eventually she came back to the anxious young man and said:
“You may return to your master, the dreamer, and tell him that I accept his proposal of marriage. “

Seven weeks later, Princess Rum was married to the Emperor of China, and the couple lived and dreamed happily together to the end of their days.

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The crane, an elegant and beautiful bird, is considered to be auspicious in Japan. In this story, a poor farmer receives good fortune after he rescues a wounded crane. But unfortunately his curiosity gets the better of him, and his luck does not hold out. It’s a short, rather sad, but beautiful story.

Read by Richard Scott. Version by Bertie Duration 7.23

It was winter. The fields were covered with snow, and the winding river was frozen so thickly that you could walk on it. A poor farmer was returning home along the river bank, when he heard a noise from inside a frosty thicket. He understood right away that it was a wounded bird, and his first thought was that it would make an easy catch to take home and boil his pot. But when he parted the twigs and undergrowth, he found a such a beautiful bird that he did not have the heart to kill it. It was a crane, whose side had been pierced by an arrow. He pulled out the shaft and rubbed some balm into the wound. The crane spread out its wings and soared into the the sky.

The farmer returned to his hovel, ate half a bowl of rice, and went to bed as soon as it was dark, because there was nothing else to do. In the early hours of the morning he heard a tap tap tapping at his door. At first he thought it was the wind, and then he wondered if it was a ghost. At last he realised that he would not sleep until he opened up and saw who or what was there. He lifted up the latch,expecting to see a ghastly apparition in the moonlight. He was prepared for a specter from the spirit world. His hand, clasping a great knife, was ready for a robber. But he was utterly unready for the face of a beautiful girl. In fact, she was so lovely that he was quite startled. He was simply amazed that anyone could be so gorgeous, let alone standing at his door.

He let the girl in, and she slept on his bed, while he lay by the ashes of the fire. After she had stayed with him for three days and nights, he finally found the words to ask her to marry him, though he never expected her to accept. The girl replied that she had come to his door hoping that he would ask that very question, and she gladly accepted. The farmer thought to himself,

“Until just recently, I was lonely, poor and wretched. Now I am still poor, but chance or some god has brought me happiness.”

But nobody can live on love alone. The winter was long and hard, the couple ran out of rice to take the edge of their hunger. The farmer said: “What are we to? I have no food, no money, and nothing we can sell.” He himself was on the brink of tears, and he expected that his wife would either grow angry with him for failing to provide for them both, or to break down in sobs. This, he thought, was the end of their happiness. But instead she smiled and said:
“Dear Husband. Do not worry or fret. I will weave a cloth, and you shall take it to the market to sell.”

The farmer shrugged his shoulders, because they had no thread to weave. But his wife went into the one and only room of their house and as she closed the door she said:

“Whatever you do, do not come in.”

Some hours later, she came out of the room carrying a beautiful cloth. It was embroidered with flowers and birds and was so beautiful that it was fit for a princess. The next day the farmer took it to the market and sold it for a great sum. They couple had enough money to last them several winters.

But when you have money, there is a tendency to spend. You forget how careful you once were, you buy whatever you want, and you pay prices that are sometimes over the odds. In short, the money run out, and once again the couple were poor. The farmer was again on the edge of despair but his wife said.

“Do not fret. I will weave another cloth. I will go into the back room and work. But whatever you do, do not peep in until I come out.”

While his wife weaved, the farmer sat and wondered how he had been so fortunate to have found such a woman , one so lovely, one who loved him, and one who was able to weave cloth out of nothing. He recalled how she had turned up at his door on a winter’s night, and he thought about how little he knew or understood who she was, why she had come to him, or how she weaved the cloth/ He lived with her. He loved her. Yet he hardly knew her. At last his curiosity overcame him. He opened the door a crack and he peeped in.

And this is what he saw. It was his wife, but not a woman. She was the crane that he had saved from the thicket. On the floor was an intricate pattern of feathers, and as she worked, she plucked yet more feathers from her own breast. The cost to her was pain and loss of her own plumage, but she was ready to inflict this on herself for him. But then the bird looked up and saw him. She let out a cry and and shed a single tear from her eye. She flapped her wings and flew up and away, out through the hole in the roof that served as a chimney in the cottage.
And that was the last the poor farmer ever saw of the grateful crane who had become his wife, and who had plucked feathers from her own breast to keep him from poverty. He never married again, and lived to the end of his days alone.

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The Fire-Fly Princess is a glittering beauty, and numerous insects want to be her husband. She has little interest in any of them, and declares that she will only marry the one who brings her a flame. This glittering story is full of the beauty of old Japan.

And we are delighted to introduce the very talented Elizabeth Donnelly, who joins Natasha and Richard as a narrator for Storynory. And for all those who have been asking us for news of Natasha, she will be very soon reading more chapters of Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Read by Elizabeth. Duration 12.32.

IN JAPAN the night-flies emit so brilliant a light and are so beautiful that ladies go out in the evenings and catch the insects for amusement. They imprison them in tiny cages made of bamboo threads, and hang them up in their rooms or suspend them from the eaves of their houses. At their picnic parties, the people love to sit on August evenings, fan in hand, looking over the lovely landscape, spangled by ten thousand brilliant spots of golden light. Each flash seems like a tiny blaze of harmless lightning.

One of the species of night-flies, the most beautiful of all, is a source of much amusement to the ladies. Hanging the cage of glittering insects on their verandahs, they sit and watch the crowd of winged visitors attracted by the fire-fly’s light. What brings them there, let this love story tell.

On the southern and sunny side of the castle, the water in the moat had long ago become shallow so that lotus lilies grew there luxuriantly. Deep in the heart of one of the great flowers whose petals were as pink as the lining of a sea-shell, lived the King of the Fire-flies, Hi-?, whose only daughter was the lovely princess Hotaru-himé. While still a child the princess was carefully kept at home within the pink petals of the lily, never going even to the edges except to see her father fly off on his journey. Dutifully she waited until of age, when the fire glowed in her own body, and shone, beautifully illuminating the lotus, and its light at night was like a lamp within a globe of coral.

Every night her light grew brighter and brighter, until at last it was as mellow as gold. Then her father said:

“My daughter is now of age to marry, she may fly abroad with me sometimes, and when the proper suitor comes she may wed whom she will.”

So Hotaru-himé flew in and out among the lotus lilies of the moat, then into rich rice fields, and at last far off to the indigo meadows.

Whenever she went a crowd of admirers followed her, for she had the singular power of attracting all the night-flying insects to herself. But she cared for none of them, and though she spoke politely to all she gave encouragement to none.

One night she said to her mother, the queen:

“I have met many admirers, but I don’t wish a single one to be my husband. Tonight I shall stay at home, and if any of them love me truly they will come and pay me court here. Then I shall give them an impossible task. . If they are wise they will not try to perform it; and if they love their lives more than they love me, I do not want any of them. Whoever succeeds may have me for his bride.”

“As you wish, my child,” said the queen mother, who dressed her daughter in her most resplendent robes, and set her on her throne in the heart of the lotus.

Then she gave orders to her body-guard to keep all suitors at a respectful distance lest some stupid bug, dazzled by the light should approach too near and hurt the princess or shake her throne.

No sooner had twilight faded away, than forth came the golden beetle, who stood on a flower and bowing said:—
“I am Lord Green-Gold, I offer my house, my fortune and my love to Princess Hotaru.”

“Go and bring me fire and I will be your bride” said Hotaru-himé.

With a bow of the head the beetle opened his wings and departed with a stately whirr.

Next came a shining bug with wings and body as black as lamp-smoke, who solemnly professed his passion.
“Bring me fire and you may have me for your wife.”

Off flew the bug with a buzz.

Pretty soon came the scarlet dragon-fly, expecting so to dazzle the princess by his gorgeous colors that she would accept him at once.

“I decline your offer” said the princess, “but if you bring me a flash of fire, I’ll become your bride.”

Swift was the flight of the dragon-fly on his errand, and in came the Beetle with a tremendous buzz, and ardently plead his suit.
“I’ll say ‘yes’ if you bring me fire” said the glittering princess.

Suitor after suitor appeared to woo the daughter of the King of the Fire-flies until every petal was dotted with them. To every one of her lovers the princess in modest voice returned the same answer:

“Bring me fire and I’ll be your bride.”

So without telling his rivals, each one thinking he had the secret alone sped away after fire.

But none ever came back to wed the princess. Alas for the poor suitors! The beetle whizzed off to a light that glimmered through the paper walls of a house.

The black bug flew into a room where a poor student was reading. His lamp was only a dish of earthenware full of rape seed oil with wick made of pith.

The dragon-fly flew to the light of a housewife who was working late at night,

Mad with love the brilliant hawk-moth, afraid of the flame yet determined to win the fire for the princess, hovered round and round a candle flame, coming nearer and nearer each time. “Now or never, the princess or death,” he buzzed, as he darted forward to snatch a flash of flame.

But none of the the lovers of Hi-?’s daughter succeeded in their quests. All met their ends in the flames or the lamp-oil.

As the priests trimmed the lamps in the shrines, and the serving maids cleaned the lanterns in the homes, each said alike:
“The Princess Hotaru must have had many suitors last night.”

The next day was one of great mourning and there were so many insect funerals going on, that Hi-mar? the Prince of the Fire-flies on the north side of the castle moat, asked after the cause .

Then he learned for the first time of the glittering princess. He fell in love with her and resolved to marry her. The princesse’s father agreed to his proposal of marriage, on condition that the Prince should obey her wish in one thing, which was to come in person bringing her fire.

Then the Prince at the head of his glittering battalions came in person and filled the lotus palace with a flood of golden light. But Hotaru-himé was so beautiful that her charms paled not, even in the blaze of the Prince’s glory. The visit ended in wooing, and the wooing in wedding. On the night appointed, in a carriage made of the white lotus-petals, amid the blazing torches of the prince’s battalions of warriors, Hotaru-himé was borne to the prince’s palace and there, prince and princess were joined in wedlock.

Many generations have passed since Hi-mar? and Hotaru-himé were married, and still it is the whim of all Fire-fly princesses that their low born admirers must bring fire as their love-offering or lose their prize. It is for this cause that each night insects hover around the lamp flame, and every morning a crowd of victims must be cleaned from the lamp. This is the reason why young ladies catch and imprison the fire-flies to watch the war of insect-love, in the hope that they may have human lovers who will dare as much, through fire and flood, as they.

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We celebrate the Year of the Tiger with a legend of how the tiger got his stripes. The Chinese New Year falls on February 14th in 2010, and anyone born in this year will be lucky and brave (according to horoscopes).

You might also be interested in our story of how the Chinese years were named after animals. And if you like tigers, then try the poem. The Tyger (yes, it is spelt that way because it’s archaic), and our story from India, The Brahman, the Tiger, and the Jackel.

Read by Natasha. Version by Bertie. Duration: 7.01.

A long time ago, when animals still had the power of speech, a white, stripeless tiger, crept to the edge of the jungle and looked out at the paddy fields where the rice grew. He saw a man sitting under a banana tree eating his lunch. Not far away stood a buffalo who was also taking a rest from his work ploughing the fields. The great beast swished his tail to swipe away the flies.

The tiger crept forward on his belly, using his powerful arms to pull himself through the grass, and when he was just behind the buffalo he whispered. “Do not be afraid. I do not come to satisfy my hunger, but to seek your advice. Do tell me the answer to my question,” said the tiger, “For I am so curious to know. I have been observing the puny little man who is your master. He has no strength, no sharp sense of smell. His hands are not strong. His teeth are not sharp. And yet he rules you and makes you work for him. You, on the other hand, are magnificent beast of great and wonderful strength. You are twenty times his weight and size, and I know to my cost that you can put up a fair fight with the best of the beasts of the jungle. I haver heard that the source of man’s power is something called wisdom. So tell me, oh buffalo, what is wisdom, and where does the man get it from?”

The buffalo munched slowly on his grass for a while before answering. “Beats me. I’ve no idea. Why don’t you ask him?”

The tiger saw that he would not get a sensible answer from the buffalo, and so he sprang over the to the man in one great bound, and as he stood before the trembling farmer he said:

“Have no fear little man, for I have not come to satisfy my hunger. I am here in search of wisdom. Do answer my question, please, for it perplexes me. What this thing that men call wisdom? What does it look like? Where does it come from? Will you not share some of it with me?”

The man wiped the sweat of fear from his forehead and said as calmly as he could: “Wisdom is very precious. Must I really give some of it to you?”

“The choice is yours,” said the Tiger, “But do you hear that sound? It is my stomach rumbling. I have not slept or eaten for three days, so perplexed have I been by this question, but now I am starting to feel like I could do with a bite to eat. ”

And the man could indeed hear a low rumbling sound. He replied to the tiger:

“Well of course I will gladly share my wisdom with you. But I’m afraid I have left it at home today. I must go and fetch it for you. If you come back with me, I am afraid the villagers will take fright. Will you wait here while?”

The tiger walked around the man menacingly before giving his reply: “I will wait, but be sure to come back, or I will visit you in your field again tomorrow, and next time I might be more hungry than than inquisitive.”

The man started to walk out of the field, but he had taken only a few steps when he turned back and said:

“Please forgive me. I am troubled by the thought of leaving a hungry tiger here with my animals. Will you let me tie you to this tree while I am away fetching the wisdom? That way my fears will be at rest.”

The tiger was afraid that the man would change his mind about sharing his wisdom. He thought of the great power that only a little wisdom would give him — how with his strength, and with just a little of man’s wisdom, he would rule every creature that walked, slithered, swam or flew across the world. He wanted this prize so much that he agreed to let the man coil a rope around his body and his legs, and tie him to the trunk of the banana tree.

A little later, the man returned to the field with his three sons. Each carried armfuls of dry straw.

“Here, I have kept my side of the bargain. I have brought you wisdom” said the man, and he and his sons laid the straw on the ground beneath the tiger. Then the man set alight to it. Bright orange flames leapt up and burned the tiger. He roared with pain, until at last the fire seared through the ropes, and he sprang to freedom, and bounded for the river where he soothed his burnt fur in the cooling waters.

In time the wounds of the tiger healed, but for ever more his body bore orange stripes where the flames and burned him, and black ones where the ropes had bound him.

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This tale from Ancient Egypt was written down in hieroglyphics 4000 years ago. It’s one of the oldest stories to have come down to us. In fact, it is really several stories all framed within a story.

A ship returns to Egypt from a long voyage. The merchant owner of the shipper is afraid that the Pharaoh will be angry with him because his business has not prospered. His attendant tells him a story of an earlier journey, in which he was shipwrecked and met a giant serpent. The attendant means to show that it’s not so much what you do, but how you tell it that counts. The master is not so sure.

Read by Natasha. Duration 9.50

Four thousand years ago, a ship glided into its home harbour in the land of Egypt. A sailor jumped ashore with the rope and tied it to the mooring post. His comrades rejoiced and embraced one another, so glad they were to have survived their long journey at sea, and to know that soon they would be filling their arms with their children and kissing their wives.

But as the ship’s owner stepped ashore, dark, anxious lines crossed his brow.
His business in the lands of Wawat and Biga had not prospered, and he feared the anger of the great Pharaoh who ruled the land of Egypt. He had an attendant, a smart young fellow, who understood what was troubling his master’s mind. As they stepped off the boat, he tried to give his master words of assurance.

“Be satisfied, oh my lord, for we have returned in good health, and not a single one of us is lost. You may go and tell the tale of our journey to the Pharaoh. Choose your words carefully, trust in your eloquence, and all will be well.”

But the master was only irritated by these words, and he spoke angrily to his attendant.

“You are home, but your mind is still wandering. A man’s mouth may save him, but so it may also get him into trouble. Do you always say out loud any thought that flies into your head? If you must babble such nonsense, pray say it quietly, to yourself.”

The smart young man was not offended by this rebuke. Instead he replied to his master with a story about another adventure that he had once undertaken. And this is what he told him.

“I was on a journey across great green sea to the mines of the Pharaoh. We had a 120 sailors, the best in Egypt, their hearts fiercer than lions. They had seen many skies, they had seen many lands, they could tell a storm before it came, and gale before it happened.

“As we approached the land the wind arose, and threw up enormous waves. Our ship split in two, and all the mortal souls within were at the mercy of the great green sea. I grabbed a plank of cedar wood and stayed afloat. A wave picked me up and placed me down on the shore of an island. After I had lain for three days, all alone in some bushes, I arose and looked for something for my mouth. I found it in abundance: figs and grapes, all manner of good herbs, berries and grain, melons of all kinds, fishes and birds. Indeed, the island did not lack for any good thing. After I had satisfied my hunger, I dug a pit, lit a fire, and made a burnt offering to the gods.

“Suddenly I heard a crashing sound, which I took to be a wave crashing against the land. The trees shook and the earth moved. I uncovered my eyes, and I saw that an enormous snake was slithering towards me. He was the size of a temple building. His face was that of a man, and he wore a beard as tall as as a pillar. His skin was as blue as true Lapis Lazuli and he was overlaid with gold.

“I threw myself on my belly before him, before he he opened his mouth and said:

“Who brought you, who brought you? o commoner, who brought you? If you delay your reply it shall be the worse for you. Your life shall be extinguished like the flickering flame of a candle.”

“I lay still, stunned, silent, my mouth full of sand. When the serpent saw that could get no reply out of me, he scooped me up in his mouth and carried me to his cave where he laid me down. Again he asked:

“Who brought you, who brought you, o commoner, who brought you to this island of the great green sea whose two sides are lapped by waves?”

And then I, realising that my life depended on my words, replied to him:

“I was on a mission, sent by the Pharaoh. We had a 120 sailors, the best in Egypt, their hearts fiercer than lions. They had seen many skies, they had seen many lands, they could tell a storm before it came, and gale before it happened. Each one was no less strong or fierce than his companion, and there was not a single fool among us.

“ As we approached the land the wind arose, and threw up enormous waves. Our ship was split in two, and of all who were on board, I alone was saved. And behold, here I am at your side…… … I was brought to this island by a wave of the great green sea.”

It seemed that my words soothed the anger of the great man-serpent for he smiled gently and replied to me.

“Fear not, o commoner, do not be pale, for it is God who has let you live, and has brought you to me. You will spend four months on this island of the blest, which does not lack for any good thing. At that end of that period a ship will arrive and taken you home to your wife and family, and you shall live and finally die in your own town.

“Now since you have survived this accident, let me tell you of a tale of calamity that befell me. I once lived on this island with my family – 75 serpents in all without counting an orphan girl who was brought to me by chance and who was dear to my heart. And then one night a star came crashing down from heaven and they all went up in flames. Only I was spared, and behold, here I am, utterly alone.

“But you, if you are brave and overcome your fears, you will fill your arms with your children and kiss your wife, you will see your house and live among your family.”

And when I heard this prophesy of my salvation, I wept and bowed and touched the ground before him, and said.

“On my return I shall tell the Pharaoh all about you and your greatness. I will bring you sacred oils and perfumes, and incense with which the gods are honoured in the temples. I shall slay animals for you in sacrifice, I shall bring you birds, and ships full of all kinds of treasures from Egypt and they shall speak of you in the councils and honour you through out the land.”

And when he heard this he laughed and rebuked me:

“Do not trouble yourself with incense, for you are not rich in perfumes . As for me, I am a prince of the land of Punt, and I have all the richest scents. But you need not return, for after you depart, this island shall be covered by the sea.”

And my rescue and salvation came true exactly as he said. After four months had gone by, I climbed a tall tree, and behold ! I saw a ship on the horizon. It came to rescue me, and as I took my leave of my serpentine host, he said : “Go to your house. See your children. Spread my good name in your city. This my due from you”

And he gave me gifts of incense, myrrh and balsam, tails of giraffes, and elephants tusks.

And as I departed, I and all who were on board the ship, gave our praises to the Serpent God. We sailed Northwards, and two months later I came before the Pharaoh and presented him with the tribute of gifts I had brought from the Island. I told him of my adventures and he thanked me before the council and rewarded me with a position in his court.”

And with these words the attendant finished his story of his shipwreck and survival. The master of the ship had waited patiently on the quay by the side of the ship, and had listened carefully. But he was not pleased by the story… and he said:

“Save your smart words my young friend. Such drops of hope do me no good. Who gives water to a goose in the morning, when it is due to be slaughtered in the afternoon?”

And that was the Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor as written down by the cunning fingers of the scribe Imen-Ah, Son of Imeny, life, prosperity, health.

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This story tells how the delicious fruit the watermelon came to Vietnam many centuries ago.

The hero of the legend is Prince Mai An Tiem who was adopted by the King of Vietnam. His brother grew envious of him, and started to plot against him. If you want to know how watermelons come into it all – well you had better listen to the story.

Today watermelons re associated with the New Year in Vietnam – called the Tet festival. People eat roast watermelon seeds at the time of the festival.

Read by Natasha. Version by Bertie. Duration 10.10.

The Watermelon Prince

Many centuries ago, a gale blew across the land of Vietnam. It leant on the palm trees so that they bent their branches to the ground, and it grabbed red tiles from the roof of the great palace and chucked them across the courtyard. Out at sea, great waves made war on the cliffs, pounding them with all the force of nature. Most of the local fisherman had seen the storm coming from afar, and had pulled their boats well back from the shore, and tied them fast to the ground. But a merchant ship was caught in the storm, and its hull was dashed to splinters on the rocks. Everyone on board was drowned, except for one. By some miracle, the waves carried a basket containing a newly born baby, and they deposited it on the beach not far from the great palace. The morning after the storm, a fisherman’s wife was out walking along along the beach and searching through the debris for anything of value. She heard the baby’s cries, and discovered its basket under some torn-off palm leaves. She knew from the swaddling clothes of the child that he belonged to a rich family, and not knowing what else to do, she took him to the palace in search of a reward.

When the king heard of this infant who had been saved from the storm by a miracle, he thought that it must be a very special child indeed. He adopted him as his own, and he grew up to be Prince Mai An Tiem.

Mai An Tiem proved to be a popular young man, with wisdom and knowledge beyond his years. Often the king’s councilors would consult his opinion before reaching an decision, because he understood the king’s heart and his wishes better than anyone else. His adopted father loved him as much, if not more, than his natural sons.

When Mai An Tiem turned twe nty years old, the king arranged for him to marry one of his daughters, Princess Co Ba, who had been his friend since childhood. The celebration was the most extravagant of the King’s reign. So much so, that the king’s own son, Prince Hau, grew envious, for the lavishness of the wedding party far exceeded his own.

“My father means to adopt Mai An Tiem as his successor,” he thought to himself. “I must stop this.”

And so Prince Hau bought a large bribe to the head of the King’s body guard, and a slightly smaller bribe to the head of his household. In return for this payment, these officials started to spread ugly rumours about Main An Tiem.

He grows arrogant.
The king’s favoritism has gone to his head.
He is plotting a coup.

And the further the rumours spread, the less clear it was where they had began. Eventually the head of the body guard came to the king and said that Mai An Tiem had tried to recruit his services to overthrow the king. At first the king would not believe this lie against his adopted son, but soon others in the palace, who confused rumour for fact, backed it up. With great sorrow in his heart the King decreed that Mai An Tiem was guilty of plotting treason, and must be banished from the kingdom for evermore. His wife, Princess Co Ba, swore that she would follow him to the ends of the earth. And soon the couple boarded a ship, which took them far out to sea, and deposit d them on a desert island.

But Mai An Tiem and Co Ba did not despair, for although they had lost all the privileges, friends, and comforts, they had at least, each other. They found a stream with fresh water, and they built a hut for themselves out of leaves and branches. They made nets for fishing and they learned how to climb trees to pick bananas and shake down coco-nuts. But although everything they ate was fresh and good, their diet lacked anything that you might call a special treat. Co Ba began to dream of sumptuous banquets.

One day, after they had been on the island for several years, Mai An Tiem was walking along the cliffs when he saw a flock of birds, squabbling excitedly amongst themselves. As he drew closer, he saw that the cause of all their excitement were some black seeds. He picked up a handful, and when he reached home, he scattered them on the ground around their hut and along the stream.

Many months later, during one of the hottest times of the year, he noticed that some unusual plants had began to sprout on the spot where he had spread the seeds. Over the coming weeks, they spread like a vine along the ground, and then some fruits started to bud under the leaves. These grew into enormous green fruits, the likes of which he had never seen before. On cutting them open, he discovered within, soft, red flesh. He cut off a piece and popped it into his mouth, and it melted on his tongue like no other. When, a little later, Co Ba, tasted the fruit, she was enormously happy and pleased. It was her first treat in seven years.

The couple decided to call the fruit, red melon, and the were careful to spread the seeds and grow a second crop. The red melons – which we know as watermelons – were one of the greatest joys of their life on the island.

One day, when Mai An Tiem was sitting on the beach, contemplating the vast ocean, and the way his life had turned out. He idly carved his name on a watermelon, and tossed it into the waves, wondering where it would wash up. Perhaps some one in some far away land would be lucky enough to find the delicious fruit, and would for for ever more thank the name of Mai An Tiem that was engraved on its skin.

And just as the ocean tide had been a friend to Mai An Tiem when he was a baby, so it proved now. The current carried the watermelon back to the Kingdom of Vietnam. A fisherman’s wife found the wondrous fruit on the beach, and she took it to the palace in hope of a reward. When the king saw the name that was carved on the fruit, he marveled at the reminder of his long banished son. He tasted the red flesh of the fruit inside, and it was so delicious that he thought it was the greatest present that could be bestowed on a king, who was so wealthy that he had every other pleasure that a human being could desire. He thought with love of Mai An Tiem and in his heart he forgave him. And two weeks after that, a ship sent by the King, came to the desert island to bring Mai An Tiem and Ko Ba back to the palace. Eventually Mai An Tiem became king of Vietnam and he ruled wisely to the end of his days.

Version by Bertie of Storynory

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We bring you a single chapter from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by y L. Frank Baum. This quintessentially American fairy tale was first published in 1900. Perhaps you have seen the extremely famous musical film staring Judy Garland (made in 1939).

We chose this chapter in the spirit of Halloween – so expect a few scary moments when with wolves, bees, crows, and winged monkeys.

As we are starting in the middle, we had better tell you the story so far.

Dorothy is an orphan who lives on a farm in the America, in the sate of Kansas. One day the farm house, with Dorothy and her little dog (Toto) inside, is picked up by a giant wind called a cyclone and she is swept away to the land of Oz. She walks down a yellow brick road and meets a scare crow, a tin woodman, and a cowardly lion. They are all on their way to the Emerald City seek help from the Wonderful wizard of Ox. The Wizard agrees to help them, but firs they must kill the Wicked Witch of the West. And this is the story of how they set out to do just that.

Read by Natasha. Duration 28.37.

The soldier with the green whiskers led them through the streets of the Emerald City until they reached the room where the Guardian of the Gates lived. This officer unlocked their spectacles to put them back in his great box, and then he politely opened the gate for our friends.

“Which road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?” asked Dorothy.

“There is no road,” answered the Guardian of the Gates. “No one ever wishes to go that way.”

“How, then, are we to find her?” inquired the girl.

“That will be easy,” replied the man, “for when she knows you are in the country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her slaves.”

“Perhaps not,” said the Scarecrow, “for we mean to destroy her.”

“Oh, that is different,” said the Guardian of the Gates. “No one has ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her.”

They thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West, walking over fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies and buttercups. Dorothy still wore the pretty silk dress she had put on in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she found it was no longer green, but pure white. The ribbon around Toto’s neck had also lost its green color and was as white as Dorothy’s dress.

The Emerald City was soon left far behind. As they advanced the ground became rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor houses in this country of the West, and the ground was untilled.

In the afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no trees to offer them shade; so that before night Dorothy and Toto and the Lion were tired, and lay down upon the grass and fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.

Now the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as powerful as a telescope, and could see everywhere. So, as she sat in the door of her castle, she happened to look around and saw Dorothy lying asleep, with her friends all about her. They were a long distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.

At once there came running to her from all directions a pack of great wolves. They had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.

“Go to those people,” said the Witch, “and tear them to pieces.”

“Are you not going to make them your slaves?” asked the leader of the wolves.

“No,” she answered, “one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and another a Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you may tear them into small pieces.”

“Very well,” said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed, followed by the others.

It was lucky the Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and heard the wolves coming.

“This is my fight,” said the Woodman, “so get behind me and I will meet them as they come.”

He seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf’s head from its body, so that it immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman’s weapon. There were forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.

Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, “It was a good fight, friend.”

They waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little girl was quite frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the Tin Woodman told her all. She thanked him for saving them and sat down to breakfast, after which they started again upon their journey.

Now this same morning the Wicked Witch came to the door of her castle and looked out with her one eye that could see far off. She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still traveling through her country. This made her angrier than before, and she blew her silver whistle twice.

Straightway a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her, enough to darken the sky.

And the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, “Fly at once to the strangers; peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces.”

The wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her companions. When the little girl saw them coming she was afraid.

But the Scarecrow said, “This is my battle, so lie down beside me and you will not be harmed.”

So they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and he stood up and stretched out his arms. And when the crows saw him they were frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and did not dare to come any nearer. But the King Crow said:

“It is only a stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out.”

The King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and twisted its neck until it died. And then another crow flew at him, and the Scarecrow twisted its neck also. There were forty crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at last all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his companions to rise, and again they went upon their journey.

When the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a heap, she got into a terrible rage, and blew three times upon her silver whistle.

Forthwith there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of black bees came flying toward her.

“Go to the strangers and sting them to death!” commanded the Witch, and the bees turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and her friends were walking. But the Woodman had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had decided what to do.

“Take out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and the Lion,” he said to the Woodman, “and the bees cannot sting them.” This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.

The bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew at him and broke off all their stings against the tin, without hurting the Woodman at all. And as bees cannot live when their stings are broken that was the end of the black bees, and they lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps of fine coal.

Then Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman put the straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever. So they started upon their journey once more.

The Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in little heaps like fine coal that she stamped her foot and tore her hair and gnashed her teeth. And then she called a dozen of her slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling them to go to the strangers and destroy them.

The Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as they were told. So they marched away until they came near to Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast as they could.

When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to think what she should do next. She could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed; but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her mind how to act.

There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given. But no person could command these strange creatures more than three times. Twice already the Wicked Witch had used the charm of the Cap. Once was when she had made the Winkies her slaves, and set herself to rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had helped her do this. The second time was when she had fought against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.

So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head. Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly:

“Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!”

Next she stood upon her right foot and said:

“Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!”

After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:

“Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!”

Now the charm began to work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.

One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the Witch and said, “You have called us for the third and last time. What do you command?”

“Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion,” said the Wicked Witch. “Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work.”

“Your commands shall be obeyed,” said the leader. Then, with a great deal of chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place where Dorothy and her friends were walking.

Some of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the air until they were over a country thickly covered with sharp rocks. Here they dropped the poor Woodman, who fell a great distance to the rocks, where he lay so battered and dented that he could neither move nor groan.

Others of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers pulled all of the straw out of his clothes and head. They made his hat and boots and clothes into a small bundle and threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.

The remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and wound many coils about his body and head and legs, until he was unable to bite or scratch or struggle in any way. Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the Witch’s castle, where he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence around it, so that he could not escape.

But Dorothy they did not harm at all. She stood, with Toto in her arms, watching the sad fate of her comrades and thinking it would soon be her turn. The leader of the Winged Monkeys flew up to her, his long, hairy arms stretched out and his ugly face grinning terribly; but he saw the mark of the Good Witch’s kiss upon her forehead and stopped short, motioning the others not to touch her.

“We dare not harm this little girl,” he said to them, “for she is protected by the Power of Good, and that is greater than the Power of Evil. All we can do is to carry her to the castle of the Wicked Witch and leave her there.”

So, carefully and gently, they lifted Dorothy in their arms and carried her swiftly through the air until they came to the castle, where they set her down upon the front doorstep. Then the leader said to the Witch:

“We have obeyed you as far as we were able. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are destroyed, and the Lion is tied up in your yard. The little girl we dare not harm, nor the dog she carries in her arms. Your power over our band is now ended, and you will never see us again.”

Then all the Winged Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering and noise, flew into the air and were soon out of sight.

The Wicked Witch was both surprised and worried when she saw the mark on Dorothy’s forehead, for she knew well that neither the Winged Monkeys nor she, herself, dare hurt the girl in any way. She looked down at Dorothy’s feet, and seeing the Silver Shoes, began to tremble with fear, for she knew what a powerful charm belonged to them. At first the Witch was tempted to run away from Dorothy; but she happened to look into the child’s eyes and saw how simple the soul behind them was, and that the little girl did not know of the wonderful power the Silver Shoes gave her. So the Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and thought, “I can still make her my slave, for she does not know how to use her power.” Then she said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:

“Come with me; and see that you mind everything I tell you, for if you do not I will make an end of you, as I did of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow.”

Dorothy followed her through many of the beautiful rooms in her castle until they came to the kitchen, where the Witch bade her clean the pots and kettles and sweep the floor and keep the fire fed with wood.

Dorothy went to work meekly, with her mind made up to work as hard as she could; for she was glad the Wicked Witch had decided not to kill her.

With Dorothy hard at work, the Witch thought she would go into the courtyard and harness the Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would amuse her, she was sure, to make him draw her chariot whenever she wished to go to drive. But as she opened the gate the Lion gave a loud roar and bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch was afraid, and ran out and shut the gate again.

“If I cannot harness you,” said the Witch to the Lion, speaking through the bars of the gate, “I can starve you. You shall have nothing to eat until you do as I wish.”

So after that she took no food to the imprisoned Lion; but every day she came to the gate at noon and asked, “Are you ready to be harnessed like a horse?”

And the Lion would answer, “No. If you come in this yard, I will bite you.”

The reason the Lion did not have to do as the Witch wished was that every night, while the woman was asleep, Dorothy carried him food from the cupboard. After he had eaten he would lie down on his bed of straw, and Dorothy would lie beside him and put her head on his soft, shaggy mane, while they talked of their troubles and tried to plan some way to escape. But they could find no way to get out of the castle, for it was constantly guarded by the yellow Winkies, who were the slaves of the Wicked Witch and too afraid of her not to do as she told them.

The girl had to work hard during the day, and often the Witch threatened to beat her with the same old umbrella she always carried in her hand. But, in truth, she did not dare to strike Dorothy, because of the mark upon her forehead. The child did not know this, and was full of fear for herself and Toto. Once the Witch struck Toto a blow with her umbrella and the brave little dog flew at her and bit her leg in return. The Witch did not bleed where she was bitten, for she was so wicked that the blood in her had dried up many years before.

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

But the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of a trick that would give her what she wanted. She placed a bar of iron in the middle of the kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the iron invisible to human eyes. So that when Dorothy walked across the floor she stumbled over the bar, not being able to see it, and fell at full length. She was not much hurt, but in her fall one of the Silver Shoes came off; and before she could reach it, the Witch had snatched it away and put it on her own skinny foot.

The wicked woman was greatly pleased with the success of her trick, for as long as she had one of the shoes she owned half the power of their charm, and Dorothy could not use it against her, even had she known how to do so.

The little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew angry, and said to the Witch, “Give me back my shoe!”

“I will not,” retorted the Witch, “for it is now my shoe, and not yours.”

“You are a wicked creature!” cried Dorothy. “You have no right to take my shoe from me.”

“I shall keep it, just the same,” said the Witch, laughing at her, “and someday I shall get the other one from you, too.”

This made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket of water that stood near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her from head to foot.

Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away.

“See what you have done!” she screamed. “In a minute I shall melt away.”

“I’m very sorry, indeed,” said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see the Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.

“Didn’t you know water would be the end of me?” asked the Witch, in a wailing, despairing voice.

“Of course not,” answered Dorothy. “How should I?”

“Well, in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the castle to yourself. I have been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me and end my wicked deeds. Look out–here I go!”

With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess. She then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land.

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This story from Japan shows us that we should respect the old – even an old monkey. It’s about a dancing monkey who has served his master faithfully all his life. Now he is too old to dance, his master wants to get rid of him. The monkey consults an wise old wild boar, who hatches a plan to remind the master of his monkey’s faithful service.

The plot of this story resembles Old Sultan by the Brothers Grimm from Germany – suggesting that there is something universal about a good plot.

Read by Natasha. Duration 7.13. Sponsored by AudibleKids

Long, long ago, there lived in the province of Shinshin in Japan, a
traveling monkey-man, who earned his living by taking round a monkey
and showing off the animal’s tricks.

One evening the man came home in a very bad temper and told his wife
to send for the butcher the next morning.

The wife was amazed and asked her husband:

“Why do you wish me to send for the butcher?”

“It’s no use taking that monkey round any longer, he’s too old and
forgets his tricks. and now he won’t dance properly. I must now sell him to the butcher and make what money out of him I can. There is nothing else to be done.”

The woman felt very sorry for the poor little animal, and pleaded
for her husband to spare the monkey, but her pleading was all in
vain, the man was determined to sell him to the butcher.

Now the monkey was in the next room and overheard ever word of the
conversation. He soon understood that he was to be killed, and he
said to himself:

“I never knew my master was so cruel and heartless. I have served him faithfully

for years, and instead of allowing me to end my days comfortably and
in peace, he is going to let me be cut up by the butcher, and my
poor body is to be roasted and stewed and eaten? Woe is me! What am
I to do. Ah! a bright thought has struck me! There is, I know, a
wild boar living in the forest near by. I have often heard tell of
his wisdom. Perhaps if I go to him and tell him abut the trouble I am in
he will give me his advice.. I will go and try.”

There was no time to lose. The monkey slipped out of the house and
ran as quickly as he could to the forest to find the boar. The boar
was at home, and the monkey began his tale of woe at once.

“Good Mr. Boar, I have heard of your excellent wisdom. I am in great
trouble, you alone can help me. I have grown old in the service of
my master, and because I cannot dance properly now he intends to
sell me to the butcher. What do you advise me to do? I know how
clever you are!”

The boar was pleased at the flattery and determined to help the
monkey. He thought for a little while and then said:

“Hasn’t your master a baby?”

“Oh, yes,” said the monkey, “he has one infant son.”

“Doesn’t he lie by the door in the morning when your mistress begins
the work of the day? Well, I will come round early and when I see my
opportunity I will seize the child and run off with it.”

“What then?” said the monkey.

“Why the mother will be in a tremendous scare, and before your
master and mistress know what to do, you must run after me and
rescue the child and take it home safely to its parents, and you
will see that when the butcher comes they won’t have the heart to
sell you.”

The monkey thanked the boar many times and then went home. He did
not sleep much that night, as you may imagine, for thinking of the
the following day when the butcher was due to come to the house. His life depended on whether the boar’s plan succeeded or
not. He was the first up, waiting anxiously for what was to happen.
It seemed to him a very long time before his master’s wife began to
move about and open the shutters to let in the light of day. Then
all happened as the boar had planned. The mother placed her child
near the porch as usual while she tidied up the house and got her
breakfast ready.

The child was crooning happily in the morning sunlight, dabbing on
the mats at the play of light and shadow. Suddenly there was a noise
in the porch and a loud cry from the child. The mother ran out from
the kitchen to the spot, only just in time to see the boar
disappearing through the gate with her child in its clutch. She
flung out her hands with a loud cry of despair and rushed into the
inner room where her husband was still sleeping soundly.

He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, and crossly demanded what his
wife was making all that noise about. By the time that the man was
awake and they both got outside the gate, the
boar had got well away, but they saw the monkey running after the
thief as hard as his legs would carry him.

Both the man and wife were amazed to see the monkey chasing the thief. And when he bought the baby back safely to them, they could not stop crying with joy and gratitude.

“There!” said the wife. “This is the animal you want to kill–if the
monkey hadn’t been here we should have lost our child forever.”

“You are right, wife,” said the man as he carried the
child into the house. “You may send the butcher back when he comes,
and now let us us all have a good breakfast and the monkey too.”

When the butcher arrived he was sent away with an order for some
meat for the evening dinner, and the monkey was petted and
lived the rest of his days in peace.

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This exciting story from Japan features a battle between a warrior and a giant centipede. The rewards for bravery in this story are not riches or the hand of a beautiful princess, but a plentiful supply of food. And by the end of the story you will know how the warrior gained his unusual title of “My Lord Bag of Rice.”

Told by Natasha. Duration 19.12

Long, long ago there lived, in Japan a brave warrior known to all as
Tawara Toda, or “My Lord Bag of Rice, ” and there is a very interesting
story of how he received this unusual name.

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

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

He had only gone a few steps when he heard someone calling him from
behind. On turning back he was much surprised to see that the
monster dragon had entirely disappeared and in its place was a
strange-looking man, who was bowing most ceremoniously to the
ground. His red hair streamed over his shoulders and he wore a crown
in the shape of a dragon’s head, and his sea-green dress was patterned
with shells.

The warrior knew at once that this was no
ordinary mortal and he wondered at what had happened.
Where had the dragon gone in such a short space of time? Or had it
transformed itself into this man, and what did the whole thing mean?
While these thoughts passed through his mind he had come up to the
man on the bridge and now spoke to him:

“Was it you that called me just now?”

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

“If it is in my power to do so I will,” answered the warrior, “but
first tell me who you are?”

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

“And what is it you have to ask of me!” said the warrior

“I want you to kill my mortal enemy the centipede, who lives on the
mountain beyond,” said the Dragon King as he pointed to a high peak on the
opposite shore of the lake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be afraid. I shall surely kill the centipede. Just bring me
my bow and arrows.”

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

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

The warrior took his second arrow, fitted it to the notch
of the bow and let fly. Again the arrow hit the mark, it struck the
centipede right in the middle of its head, only to glance off and
fall to the ground. The centipede was invulnerable to weapons! When
the Dragon King saw that even this brave warrior’s arrows were
powerless to kill the centipede, he lost heart and began to tremble
with fear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But as for he single bag of rice, however much was taken from it day after day
for the meals of the warrior and his whole family, it never grew less–
the supply in the bag was inexhaustible.

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

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

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

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This traditional story from Turkey is not quite as scary as its title, but it is certainly a little darker than some of our tales. It is a powerful fable about a man who boasted too much, and was cured of his pride by a brush with death.

Bertie would like to than Adem from Turkey for suggesting this story. Adem works in a primary school in a small village, and he and the students in his class are Storynory listeners.

Read by Natasha. Adapted by Bertie. Duration 11.10

There was once a great warrior called Dede Korkut. He and his men swept across the earth conquering lands far and wide, and as his power and wealth grew, so did his pride. He began to believe that he was invincible, and perhaps even immortal. After one particularly great victory in battle, he held a feast in his palace for seven days and seven nights on end. And on the seventh night he called for the music and dancing to cease, and he made the following speech.

“Men. We have conquered all before us. There is no force on earth that can hold us back. We are the greatest army that has ever lived and fought. I challenge all creation to stand and fight us, and still we shall prevail, so long as I, Dede Korkut, am your leader. ”

And when the leader had finished speaking, there was cheering and uproar throughout the palace and the celebrations continued among great merriment and rejoicing.

But God was also listening to the proud speech of Dede Korkut. And He was displeased at his arrogance and boasting. And so God ordered Az’rail, his Angel of Death, to visit Dede Korkut and to take his soul.

Az’rail flew into the palace and stood on the table in front of where Dede Korkut was feasting. The leader looked up at the intruder and said:

“Dark Warrior, who are you to stand before me so insolently?”

And Az’rail replied: “I am not one to answer questions from the likes of you, for I am here to punish your arrogance and boasting”.

Dede Korkut was far from used to hearing such defiance and rude words directed at him. He was filled with rage and jumped up onto the table meaning to cut off the head of the dark stranger. But before he could do so, Az’rail changed into the from of a bird and flew out of the window.

Dede Korkut rushed to the stables and ordered his horse to be saddled immediately. Soon he was charging out of the palace in pursuit of the angel. First he saw him in the moonlight standing on the highest tower of the palace, then he too saw him take off with a wing span far greater than any bird he had seen before. He charged after him, firing arrows and hurling javelins into the sky, but none came near the dark bird. He pursued him out of the city and into the forest. Deeper and deeper into the forest he went, following the terrible screeches and cries of the bird, when suddenly the angle appeared before him.

“At last you’re mine ” Dede Korkut, meaning to run him through with his lance. ”

“No, you are mine,” said the figure before him. “For I am Azra’il the Angel of Death and I have come for your soul. You boasted that you were immortal and invincible. Now the moment of your death has come, oh arrogant one.”

At these words, Dede Korkut he threw himself on the ground before the angel and said.

“Now that I look death in the face, I understand the arrogance of my life. But I beseech you, kind Angel, spare me. Give back to me the remaining years of my youth and strength, and I swear that through my words and my deeds I will prove that I have learned my lesson. ”

And the Angel replied: “I do not decide such things. I am but a messenger from the Almighty. ”

And Dede Korkut cried out: “Then get out of my way and stop wasting my time. ” And he fell on the ground and began to pray to God”

“Forgive my boasting oh Lord of All Creation and give me another chance”.

And God heard his words and was pleased, and He ordered the Angel to spare Dede Korkut his life, on condition that he could find another who was ready of his own free will to give up his own life for that of Dede Korkut’s.

Dede Korkut rode back to the palace a changed man. He felt sure that all he had to do was to ask his father to take his place in death, for he was an old man, and had never refused his son anything. But when he came before his father and gave him his request, his father replied.

“My son. I have struggled all my life so that I can enjoy my old age. I am sorry, but I am not ready to die in your place.”

And Dede Kokut was surprised and disappointed, but he thought that surely his mother would not refuse him anything. But when he asked her she said”

“Oh my son ! I have already given my life to you many times, when I gave birth to you, when I fed you with my own milk, when I took care of you. Now the rest of my life belongs at your father’s side, as company for his old age”.

And the young warrior was disappointed and distraught. He returned to his chamber and prepared to die. But when his young and beautiful wife saw him, she asked what troubled him and he said:

“Beloved. The Angel of Death is about to take my life unless I can find someone willing to die in my place. And yet it seems that even my parents, who previously have never refused me anything are not willing to do this for me. And so I have no escape. I must bid you farewell for I am about to die.”

And when she heard these words his wife replied.

“Look no further. Why did you not ask me? I love you so much that I will gladly give what even your own father and mother have refused. Take my life so that yours can be spared.”

And when the warrior heard those of true and unblenching love, tears came to his eyes. He fell on his knees and prayed to God again saying”

“Great Lord. Forgive me. Take my life and spare that of my wife, for she has faced death more calmly and bravely than I.”

And God was again pleased to hear those words, and he decided to spare both Dede Korkut and his wife, and they lived a long and blessed life and there was peace and prosperity throughout his lands.

And God wrote on the palms of the Angel of Death, in letters of light.

“In the Name of god, Most Merciful and Beneficent” and he ordered the angel that when ever he must take the soul of one of the faithful, he must show to him those letters so that his soul might come out of his body and return to its maker.

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We present the classic story with music by Tchaikovsky from his famous ballet.

Clara and Fritz have a very special godfather who makes inventions out of clockwork  (or perhaps they are magical) and his Christmas presents are always amazing and wonderful.  This year he gives them something rather small and simple -  a nutcracker-doll in the form of a soldier.  It’s rather ugly, and soon it is broken, but Clara loves it all the same. And then it comes to life and proves himself to be a true hero.

The original book in German, “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” was by ETA Hoffmann, who wrote it in 1816.   This is our own Storynory adaptation, with music and magic.

Read by Natasha.   Duration 28 minutes.

It was the night before Christmas.  Clarla and Fritz were sitting  by the door of the kitchen.  Their cheeks were red after throwing snowballs outside in the cold air.   Their eyes shone brighter than the candles on the Christmas tree.  They were chattering very excitedly about something.

And what were two children so excited about on Christmas Eve? You don’t have to be a genius to guess the answer to that question.  For they were talking about -

Presents.

And the presents for Clara and Fritz were wrapped up and waiting for them  on the kitchen table, just on the other side of the door.  But the children were forbidden to go through the door until it was time.  Time for presents.  And as they couldn’t see the presents, they talked about them instead.

“I bet, ” said Fritz, “That this year, Godfather Drosselmeyer has made a two entire armies of clockwork soldiers – thousands and thousands of them -  Cavalry, and infantry, and artillery – and they’ll go to war with each other and fire cannons and guns like this  BAAAMMMMM !  It is will be just like a Real Battle !”

“Oh NO! ” said Clara.  “I do hope he’s made something more pretty than that.  I think he’s made a toy theatre, with an orchestra that plays, and ballerinas  who look like swans and dance on their tip-toes. In fact, Godfather Drosselmeyer has told me himself that he had been to see the Russian dancers – and that they were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen – and that’s why I think he’s making a magic theatre for us.”

“You’re such a silly nincompoop sometimes,” said Fritz.  “Godfather Drosselmeyer doesn’t do magic.  He makes clockwork that you can wind up.”

“Oh yes he does do magic,” said Clara.  “And in any case, you’re the silly nincompoop – so there.”

And  the children chattered on, until at last the door bell rang to announce that Godfather Drosselmeyer himself had arrived at the house. The children rushed to meet him in the hall.

“Oh Godfather  do please come into the kitchen so we can open our presents,” begged Clara.

He was a funny-looking man, who wore a wig that sometimes slid half off his head.  He had a faint mustache that had never grown very bushy, and his left eye was usually half closed.  His hands and fingers were very tiny, but he was ever so-clever with them – for Fritz was right; Godfather Drosselmeyer was a watch and clock maker and one of the cleverest who ever lived.  But then perhaps Clara was right too.  Maybe, just maybe he also could do a little magic.  But in any case, his presents were always amazing and wonderful.

It took a while to gather the whole family including parents, children, aunts, uncles and godparents.  But at last it was time to open the presents. Sweets, dolls,and tin-soldiers all  emerged out of the wrapping, and even a Sultan’s palace beautifully carved and painted.  They were exciting, lovely presents – and  at last they were all opened – except that they hadn’t yet found a gift from Godfather Drosselmeyer.   Clara understood that he was keeping back an extra special surprise for them, but Fritz thought that their godfather such a strange man, that perhaps he had forgotten all about Christmas this year.  Both children were too polite to ask – but Clara gave her Godfather a gift of her own – a picture of a sugar-plum fairy that she painted herself. The old man was clearly delighted with it,  he said.

“And what have I got for dear Clara and Fritz this year?  Ah yes, I remember now. It’s here in my waistcoat pocket.”

And he pulled out a very small present – no longer than his hand.  “Which one of you two wants to open it this year?”

Fritz saw how small the present was and said : “Let Clara open it.  She’s so excited about it because she’s still a baby.”

And Clara took the present and felt it.    Yes here was its head – a little on the large size,   and here were its legs. She smiled and said:

“It’s a doll.   I bet it dances.”

And she carefully unwrapped it.

But it wasn’t just a doll.   It was nutcracker – painted to look like a soldier.  The handles were legs, in bright red trousers, and with feet in shiny boots,  and the part where you put the nuts to crack them looked like an oversized head with giant jaws. On top of its head it wore a tall fury hat.  To tell you the truth, it was rather ugly.

“Why thank you,” said Clara.

“You’re not disappointed are you?” asked Godfather Drosselmeyer.

“No,” she said. “I love the nutcracker-soldier because he’s funny.” And she gave her godfather a hug and a kiss.

But Fritz did not like the nutcracker-soldier at all.  He thought it was useless. Well almost, you could use it to crack nuts – and after dinner that’s what they did.  Clara and Fritz sat under the Christmas tree and cracked walnuts in the mouth of the soldier.

Clara wasn’t quite strong enough to break the shells, but Fritz found it easy.  Until he tried to break open an extra hard nut.  He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed  until eventually – the nutcracker broke.  One of its jaws came off, leaving the poor solider with half a mouth.

“Oh no!” Squealed Clara. “Why did you do that?”  And she grabbed the nutcracker and the broken-off piece its jaw and ran off to find their mother.

But what could her mother do? All she could do was to hug Clara and promise that Godfather Drosselmeyer would make the nutcracker as good as new in the morning.   It was funny, but now that the nutcracker-soldier was damaged,  Clara felt sorry for it, and even though it had an ugly face, she began to love it as much as if it were the most beautiful doll in the world.

And when Clara went to  lay it  under the Christmas tree,  she felt so sad that she lay down and held the broken solider closely to her.  She cried a little, and soon she fell asleep among the presents.  And if you came into the room just then, you might have thought that Clara herself was a big doll, like the others flopped under the tree.

At midnight, the 12 chimes of the grandfather clock roused Clara from her sleep.   She sat up and wondered for a  where she was.  And as she looked up she saw Godfather Drosselmeyer sitting on the very top of the tree in the place of the angel.

“Godfather !  What are you doing up there? ” she said.

But he did not answer, because he was just a doll.

And then she saw the nutcracker.  Oh, how sad it looked, lying there with a piece missing.  But then the nutcracker-soldier turned over… and it smiled at her with its broken face.

She screamed and started to run for the door.  But she had only taken a few steps when she saw that the whole floor in front of her was covered with mice  -  only they weren’t ordinary mice because they were dressed as soldiers and they had swords and rifles.   Out in front they were lead by a terrible rodent with seven heads, each with a golden crown on it.

I think that anyone can get a fright from a mouse – they are so small and squeaky, but at the same time they appear out of holes and cracks so suddenly that they catch us by surprise.  But an army of mice!  And a Seven-headed Mouse-King.  This was a terrible sight indeed !  Perhaps I don’t need to tell you that Clara let out a scream !

But before she could scream, or cry , or run,  the Nutcracker Doll rushed forward followed by his own army of dolls and tin soldiers, and the battle between the toys and the mice broke out all around Clara’s feet.   The mice squeaked and guns and cannons fired on both sides.  Clara wondered why they whole family was not awoken by the noise.  Toys and mice lay wounded on all sides, and the nutcracker was fighting  with the Mouse King.  The Mouse King was biting the nutcracker with his seven heads, but the nutracker fought on – if only he was not broken he could have caught the Mouse King in his jaws, but as it was, all he could do was to dance, jump, and kick with his long legs.   He was winning the fight with the King, but losing the battle, for he was surrounded by mice solders who caught him by the feet and started to drag him away.

“Oh no you don’t !” screamed Clara, “and she took off her shoe and threw it as hard as she could at the Mouse King.  She just missed him, but he took fright and started to run.   When the army of mice saw their king running from a giant girl and her flying shoes they turned and fled in terror. In a moment they had vanished into the cracks between the floor boards, leaving their prisoner, the nutcracker, behind them.  All the toys cheered and began to dance, until at least, when the first light came through the window they crept back into the toy box, or went back to sleep under the Christmas tree.

And Clara pulled herself back to her own room and fell into a deep sleep.

She awoke late on Christmas Morning. When she went downstairs, she found Godfather Drosselmeyer. He had already fixed the nutcracker doll so that he was as good as new …

“Thank you so much dear Godfather,” said Clara. “He’s the best present I ever had.”  And then she told him all about her strange dream.

And her Godfather put his head on one side, while he listened to her dream, and when she had finished telling him, he said.

“Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Your dream reminds me of a story.  Let me tell it too you now”

And this is the story that he told Clara.

One Christmas some bad mice crept into the Royal Palace and gobbled up all the sausage meat that was meant for the King’s special Christmas lunch.  The king was furious, and he summoned his special inventor – whose name was Drosselmeyer and who made many wonderful things.   He ordered him to make some mouse traps – which he did – and these were left in the palace kitchens.  Soon they had caught lots of mice.   The Queen of the Mice was furious – for the mice that lay in the traps were her children. A  She climbed up onto the Human Queen’s dressing room table, and just as the Queen was going to bed, the Queen Mouse said:

“So you dared to kill my children did you?   Well I’ll have my revenge, I will.   I’ll make your little Princess turn quite ugly”

The Queen screamed, and her guards rushed in to the room with drawn swords – but the Mouse Queen had disappeared behind the skirting board.

It so happened that the King and Queen had a beautiful daughter called Princess Pirlpat.  When The king heard about the threats of the Mouse-Queen, he ordered bed of the princess must be guarded by seven fierce cats so that no mouse could get near her.  But even cats must sleep. And when they were curled up and purring softly, the Queen Mouse crept past them and climbed up on to the end of Princess Pirlpat’s cot. There she said an evil magic spell, and in the morning, when she looked in the mirror, she saw that her face had been turned quite, quite ugly.  Her nose was long and had a wart on the end of it,  her eyes were small and squinty, her hair was standing up on end and would not settle down,  she had spots on her chin.  In fact, she wasn’t just ugly. She was hideous.

As you can imagine, the Queen was utterly distraught – and the King, well he was beside himself.  He summoned Drosselmeyer again and gave him just four weeks to find a cure for the princesse’s ugliness – or else.

But Drosselmeyer was an inventor, not a magician.  He did not know any spells or anti-spells.  He did not know what to do, and so he asked the Court Astrologer for his advice.  And the advice he received was that Princess Pirlpat must eat a nut called a Crakatook.  But first the Nut must be cracked by a boy who had never shaved,  and he must do it without opening his eyes, and then he must take seven steps backwards without stumbling.

Well Drosselmeyer searched the land for a Crakatook nut, and eventually, after almost four weeks were up, he found one in a small shop. He brought it before the King.

“This nut sire, ” he said, “is the cure for your daughter’s ugliness.  She must eat it.  But first the nut must be cracked by a boy who has never shaved, and he must do it with his eyes closed, and then he must take seven steps backwards without stumbling”.

The King was pleased that the cure for his daughter was so straight forward.  He made a law that that any boy who fulfilled the conditions and cured his daughter of ugliness would have the hand in marriage of the princess.

And many boys came to the palace and tried to crack the nut.  But not one could succeed.

Until one day, Drosselmeyer’s own nephew was visiting his uncle in the palace.  His face was still smooth, he had not quite reached the age when he needed to shave, and his uncle asked if he would like to try his hand at cracking the nut.

And the nephew held the nut between his teeth. And he closed his eyes.  And he cracked it. Then he took seven steps backwards, and on the seventh step — he stumbled.

And although Princess Pirlpat was cured of her ugliness, and was beautiful once more- Drosselmeyer’s nephew caught the spell – and his face became ugly.   In place of his nice kind mouth, he wore a stupid grin, and his smooth cheeks grew a white curly beard.  And his head grew too large for his shoulders. And he looked not only ugly, but stupid too.

And although the King had promised that his daughter would marry the boy who cured her,  his daughter refused to marry one who was so ugly.  And the king had to agree that it would not be proper for the princess to marry such an ugly, stupid-looking boy.

And as Drosselmeyer’s nephew went home, people pointed and laughed at him.  His teacher said he could no longer come to school because he looked so stupid.  And so he stayed at home, all alone.

And that was the story that Godfather Drosselmeyer told to Clara. And she thanked her Godfather for telling her such an interesting story, but she had to admit that it had made her feel rather sad.

That night Clara was thinking about the strange tale, and she could not fall asleep.  After a long while of laying awake, she heard a voice whispering in her ear.

It was the mouse king who had come back. And he said to her:

“Feed me your sweets, or I will bite of the head of your precious nutcracker, and I will spit it out where nobody will find it again, not even your ingenious godfather.”

And Clara was so afraid for the nutcracker that she got up and found some sweets for the Mouse king.  He gobbled them up with this seven heads in an instance, and then he demanded more. And she went down the the pantry and found some cake – and he ate all of that too – and the Christmas pudding – and the newly baked biscuits.  And still he wanted more.

“How much more shall I give you?” Asked Clara.  And the Mouse King said:

“It is for me to say when to stop.  Give me more. More I say !”

And Clara began to cry – for what would her mother say in the morning when she found that all the sweets, cake and biscuits in the house had been eaten?

And as she was crying, the Nutcracker came striding into the room.  The Mouse king turned round and said:

“Prepare to die oh Ugly One ”

but the Nutcracker bit off each of the Mouse King’s seven heads.  And soon he lay dead.

And when he had defeated his enemy, Clara picked up her hero and took him back to her room.  And instead of going to sleep they watched a wonderful show.  Toys came out to dance and sing for them all night long.  Never before had Clara seen such a lovely performance.

In the morning she could not wait to tell her mother all about what she had seen.

But when she began to explain about the seven headed mouse king and the brave little nutcracker, her mother said, “Clara – your imagination is running wild.  Don’t you realise that what you saw is just a dream?”

“But look mother,” said Clara reaching into her pocket, “Here are the seven crowns of the mouse king that the nutcracker defeated !”

“Just toys !” said her mother. “stop being silly.  Can’t you see I’m busy.”

And so clara went into the nursery and sat down and cried.

“It is true, it is true,” she said.  “And if the nutcracker was a person, not just a, well, a nutcracker, then I would love him and marry him even if he was ugly.  I would not be like that Princess Pirlpat in the story.  I would love a boy for his good heart – not for his handsome face.”

And as she said that, she heard the door bell, followed by her Godfather’s voice in the hall.  She went to see him and to tell him what she was thinking.

But there was no need. For Godfather Drosselmeyer had come with his nephew.  And his nephew was no longer ugly – but handsome and bright eyed and smiling.

For when Clara had promised to marry an ugly but good boy, she had broken the spell.  And he had regained his looks of old.   And they both knew that one day they would be married to each other and live happily ever after.

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This delightful tale comes from Korea. It tells the story of Shimchung, who loved her blind father so much that she was willing to sacrifice all for him. We love the delicate eastern images – the lotus blossom in particular – and we hope you will too.

Bertie has adapted our text from various versions – and you can read more about the background to this traditional story here.

Read by Natasha. Duration 14.15

Many years ago there lived a poor blind man called Shim. He and his wife were childless, and never a day went past when the couple did not pray to the spirits for the blessing of a child. It was only after many years that their prayers were granted, and Shim’s wife gave birth to a beautiful daughter whom they named Shimchong. But sadly, the mother died soon after giving birth, and poor blind Shim was left to bring up the child alone, and as best he could.

The years went by, and Shimchong grew into a beautiful young woman, devoted to her father.

One day, Old Man Shim was walking out alone when he fell into a deep ditch that brought water to the fields. Every time he tried to scramble out, he slid back again into the mud. He had started to think that he would die in that ditch, and he was bemoaning his fate when he heard a voice speak to him from above.

“Old man,” said the voice, “We have heard you complain many times about your blindness. If you will give 300 sacks of rice to the temple as an offering to Lord Buddha, then we monks will pray for you to be able to see once again.”

The old man cried out: “Good monks ! Only save me now and return me safely to my daughter, and I will gladly offer you whatever you ask to give to Lord Buddha!”

And no sooner had he spoken, than he felt gentle but firm hands lift him up and out of the ditch – to the blind old man it seemed that those hands had reached down from heaven itself.

Shim was so grateful for his rescue that he thanked the monks again and again, and swore that he would bring the 300 sacks of rice to the temple.

It was not until later, when he was already home and dry, that he realised that he had no chance of keeping his promise to the monks.

“Oh Shimchong,” he said to his daughter, “What shall I do? We are so poor that I could not offer three bowls of rice, let alone 300 sacks? Now what a terrible fate will befall us? For I have offended Lord Buddha himself !”

And father and daughter both began to weep, for neither of them could think of any way to pay their debt to the temple.

That night, as Shimchong lay awake, unable to sleep, her mother appeared to her and said:

“Go down to the harbour tomorrow. There you will find a merchant looking for a young girl. Go with him, and he will provide the 300 sacks of rice.”

And it so happened that the Dragon King of the East Sea was angry with a rich merchant, and he had sent storms to sink the merchant’s ships on the way to China. After losing ship after ship in this way, the merchant had consulted the high priest of the Dragon King’s temple, and he told the merchant that he must take a beautiful young maiden out to sea and sacrifice her to the Dragon King.

The merchant offered a great quantity of gold to any family that would give up their daughter to the Dragon King of the East Sea – but none would enter into such a terrible deal. And then Shimchong appeared at the harbour, and she went to the merchant and offered herself in return for 300 sacks of rice to be sent to her father. The merchant could not believe his luck. 300 sacks of rice was nothing to him – a low price indeed !

And although the merchant sent 300 sacks of rice to the temple, and although the monks did indeed pray for the return Old Man Shim’s sight, nothing happened. And now not only was he poor and blind, but he had lost his daughter too – and he was utterly alone.

Shimchong borded the merchant’s ship, and the ship put out to sea. At first the waters were calm, but then the Dragon King began to thrash his tail and the waves started to toss the ship to and fro.

The merchant told Shimchong to put on her bright coloured wedding dress, and then he brought her out of the hold and up onto the deck. Shimchong quietly said a prayer, and then leapt over the side of the ship and into the waves. As soon as she had disappeared the violent sea grew calm again. The sailors wept because they had never seen a girl at once so beautiful and so brave.

Shimchong sank deeper and deeper into the icy cold sea. And when she opened her eyes she was surrounded by bright fish of every colour and shape, and they lead her to the palace of the Dragon King of the East Sea. And there she lived, happily at first. But it was not long before she began to miss her father deeply, and she began to look sad, and sometimes there were tears in her eyes.

At last, the Dragon King could no longer bear to see the lovely girl looking so sad. Her devotion to her father touched his heart. And as a reward for her goodness, he sent her back to the world above, only first he transformed her into a lotus flower.

A fisherman found the giant lotus blossom in the mouth of a river, and he was so overcome by its beauty, that he decided to make it a gift to the king of the land above. His queen had recently died, and he was in deep mourning. When he saw the flower, his eyes lit up in wonder. He thanked the fisherman with gold, and set the flower up in his room, and every time he felt sad, he stood and looked at it, admiring its beauty.

What he did not know was that each night, when the palace was asleep, Shimchong would come out of the blossom and walk through the many beautiful chambers and halls, and at first light, she would merge back into the flower.

One night, the king could not sleep, and he got out of bed and drew the blinds to let the moonlight into his room. He turned around and was amazed to see the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld.

“Who are you?” he said, “Are you a spirit?”

The girl tried to merge back into the lotus blossom, but it had vanished.

She could not say who she was, for surely the king would not believe her story. But the king could not help but fall in love with her, and she was moved that so powerful a man could be so gentle and so sincere.

Not long after, they were married, and on their wedding day he said to her:

“My blossom. Now you are my queen. Anything you wish, I shall grant. All you have to do is tell me your desire.”

And Shimchong replied:

“There is only one thing I wish for. Let there be a great banquet to celebrate our marriage, and may all the blind man of the Kingdom be invited to dine with us.”

His bride’s wish was strange and unexpected, but the King gladly granted it. And they held a banquet, and blind beggar men came from all four corners of the land to feast at the table of the king. And the new queen watched from behind the silk curtains, hoping to catch sight of her father. But though hundreds and hundreds of blind men came into the banqueting hall – not one was her father.

And the queen had given up all hope of seeing him .

“He must have died of grief when I went away,” she thought sadly to herself.

But one of the king’s kindest and most faithful stewards called out: “Do not close the doors for there is one more beggar for the banquet.”

And an old man entered the hall, leaning on one shoulder of the steward. His clothes were ragged, he was covered with dust from the journey, and he was so weak he could hardly walk.

Shimchong came out from behind the curtain and held his hand.

“Father,” she said, “It is I.”

And when the old man heard that familiar and much loved voice of his daughter – he opened his eyes.

And that was the story of the Blind Man’s Daughter.

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This amusing yarn has lots of tears in it, but all the same, it will make you laugh. It’s about a man who goes in search of three people even more silly than his fiance and her parents. And he soon finds them ! If you want to find out how to get a cow onto your roof to eat grass up there, or how an alternative way to get into your trousers in the morning, listen on !

Read By Natasha. English Traditional Story Collected by Joseph Jacobs. Duration 11.08

Once upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter, and she was courted by a gentleman. Every evening he used to come and see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to be sent down into the cellar to fetch the beer for supper. So one evening she had gone down to fetch the beer, and she happened to look up at the ceiling while she was fetching, and she saw a axe stuck in one of the beams. It must have been there a long, long time, but somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a- thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that axe there, for she said to herself: “Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to fetch the beer, like as I’m doing now, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying.

Well, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long fetching the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she found her sitting on the settle crying, and the beer running over the floor. “Why, whatever is the matter?” said her mother. “Oh, mother!” says she, “look at that horrid axe! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to fetch the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” “Dear, dear! what a dreadful thing it would be!” said the mother, and she sat her down aside of the daughter and started a-crying too. Then after a bit the father began to wonder that they didn’t come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a- crying, and the beer running all over the floor. “Whatever is the matter?” says he. “Why,” says the mother, “look at that horrid axe. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to fetch the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” “Dear, dear, dear! so it would!” said the father, and he sat himself down aside of the other two, and started a-crying.

Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were after; and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap. Then he said: “Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and letting the beer run all over the floor?”

“Oh!” says the father, “look at that horrid axe! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to fetch the beer, and the axe was to fall on his head and kill him!” And then they all started a-crying worse than before. But the gentleman burst out a- laughing, and reached up and pulled out the axe, and then he said: “I’ve travelled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I’ll come back and marry your daughter.” So he wished them good-bye, and started off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.

Well, he set out, and he travelled a long way, and at last he came to a woman’s cottage that had some grass growing on the roof. And the woman was trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to the grass, and the poor thing durst not go. So the gentleman asked the woman what she was doing. “Why, lookye,” she said, “look at all that beautiful grass. I’m going to get the cow on to the roof to eat it. She’ll be quite safe, for I shall tie a string round her neck, and pass it down the chimney, and tie it to my wrist as I go about the house, so she can’t fall off without my knowing it.” “Oh, you poor silly!” said the gentleman, “you should cut the grass and throw it down to the cow!” But the woman thought it was easier to get the cow up the ladder than to get the grass down, so she pushed her and coaxed her and got her up, and tied a string round her neck, and passed it down the chimney, and fastened it to her own wrist. And the gentleman went on his way, but he hadn’t gone far when the cow tumbled off the roof, pulling the string behind her. And the weight of the cow tied to her wrist pulled the woman up the chimney, and she stuck fast half-way and was smothered in the soot.

Well, that was one big silly.

And the gentleman went on and on, and he went to an inn to stop the night, and they were so full at the inn that they had to put him in a double-bedded room, and another traveller was to sleep in the other bed. The other man was a very pleasant fellow, and they got very friendly together; but in the morning, when they were both getting up, the gentleman was surprised to see the other hang his trousers between the two beds and run across the room and try to jump into them, and he tried over and over again, and couldn’t manage it; and the gentleman wondered whatever he was doing it for. At last he stopped and wiped his face with his handkerchief. “Oh dear,” he says, “I do think trousers are the most awkwardest kind of clothes that ever were. I can’t think who could have invented such things. It takes me the best part of an hour to get into mine every morning, and I get so hot! How do you manage yours?” So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and showed him how to put them on; and he was very much obliged to him, and said he never should have thought of doing it that way.

So that was another big silly.

Then the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a village, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond was a crowd of people. And they had got rakes, and brooms, and pitchforks, reaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was the matter. “Why,” they say, “matter enough! Moon’s tumbled into the pond, and we can’t rake her out any which way!” So the gentleman burst out a- laughing, and told them to look up into the sky, and that it was only the reflection in the water. But they wouldn’t listen to him, and abused him shamefully, and he got away as quick as he could.

So there was a whole lot of sillies bigger than them three sillies at home. So the gentleman turned back home again and married the farmer’s daughter, and if they didn’t live happy for ever after, that’s nothing to do with you or me.

And that was the story of the three Sillies

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For the first time on Storynory we bring you fairies – Real Ones !  Yes, it’s true.  A man who was working near Merlin’s Craig in Scotland saw one, and then another, and then another.    And before too long he was dancing with the fairies and they were dragging him underground into their house beneath the moor.

Read by Natasha.  Duration 12 Minutes.
Version by Bertie (from original)Kesh Jig from audiosparx.  Bagpipes etc mixed on Garageband.

There are certain places where the very earth itself is charged with that fiery, unpredictable energy, known as magic.  One of those centers of enchantment, is in Lanarkshire, in Scotland.  You have to tramp for miles and miles across a bleak, soggy moorland to reach it – but eventually you will see a mound of jagged rocks rising out of the peat bog.  And that will be Merlin’s Craig.

The folk who live thereabouts say  that over a thousand years, ago the famous wizard called Merlin lived and practiced his magic among those rocks.  No doubt he made use in his spells of the black peat that was all around him.  You see peat is like no other earth:  For it burns, and gives warmth and life to the people who eek out a living on the moorlands.

A few hundred years ago, a poor but honest man, worked on a farm near Merlin’s Craig.  One day his master sent him to the Craig to dig up slabs of peat and fetch them back for fuel. The man did as he was told.  He had just begun to slice the ground with his shovel and lift up the peat when all at once the smallest wee woman that he had ever seen in his life appeared before him. She was certainly a dainty little creature – perhaps no more than two feet high.  She was clad in a green grown and red stockings, and her long yellow hair tumbled down to her waste.

The man was dumbfounded.  He stuck his spade in the ground and gaped at her.  She wagged her finger at him and said angrily:

“What do you mortals think you are doing when you dig up our roof? How would you like it if I came along with a giant spade and took the lid off your house?”

She stamped her wee foot and demanded:

“You put that turf back at once, or you will rue the day that you ever lifted it”.

Now the poor man’s teeth began to chatter with fright, for he had heard stories of how when a mortal offends the fairy-folk, the fairies reek a terrible revenge.  He swiftly shoveled the peat back into its place, patted it down nicely, and returned to his master to tell him what had happened.

But the master jeered at him: “A fairy you say?  Taking the roof off her house were you?  Drinking whiskey more like it… No go back at once and fetch me some peat or there will be no wages for you this very week.”

The poor man had little choice but to do as he was told – for he had to feed his wife and two wee bairns – those were his children.

And so he spent the next few days working hard, digging peat and fetching it back to the farm.  And during this time no fairies appeared to him – not a single one.

A year went by and the man still had not caught sight of another fairy – and he began to think that his master might have been right – perhaps he had only seen the fairy in a dream.

Autumn went by, and then winter and spring, and once again it was summer.  It was the very same day that he had lifted the peat the year before.  The man had been working hard on the farm, and his master was pleased with him, and gave him a present of some milk to take home to his family.   He set off on his journey home with a spring in his step, and was humming a happy tune.   As it was such a nice evening, he went home the long way over the moor, by a path that led past Merlin’s Craig.  When he reached the craig his legs felt strangely tiered, and he sat down on the ground, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

It was near midnight when he was awoken by some strange but lively music.  He rubbed his eyes and what a shock he had when he saw that a band of fairies was dancing around him, glowering at him, and pointing their wee fists in his face.

He got up and tried to start on his way, but where ever he went, the fairies danced in a ring around him.  Then out of the ring stepped the bonniest wee lady and the other fairies laughed and called out:

“Dance man, Dance !”

And when the lady reached up and took him by the hands.  And although he had never been much of a dancer in his youth, he found himself waltzing and reeling as if he had been a dancer all his life.  His head felt happy and light and he forgot all about his home, his wife, and his wee bairns.  The whole night long they danced on until at last they heard the shrill sound of the farmyard cock greeting the morning with his loudest crowing.

All at once  the merriment ceased.   The fairies stampeded headlong toward the Craig, and they dragged the man along with them.  A door opened up in the rocks and in they all clattered.

The door closed behind them and they led the man down below the ground into a dimly lit hall.

Here the fairies busied themselves with tasks: some dipped  quill pens in magic ink, and copied out spells and fairy laws onto scrolls of parchment.  Others were making fairy honey out of flowers.  And still others were distilling  fairy whiskey.

The man could do nothing but sit down and watch and be amazed.  Towards evening time, the wee woman in red stockings whom he had first seen a year ago came before him and led him back up to the door by which they had entered.  She said:

“The turf which you took from the roof of our house has reformed, and there is grass growing over it once again. Now you may go home. But you must swear never to tell any mortal any of our secrets.”

The man swore never to tell the fairy secrets to a living soul – for he had seen some things which I have not been able to tell you about -  and the door opened and he went back out onto the moor.

But when he reached home, his wife stared at him in amazement. She seemed somehow to aged.  Then his children came into the hall of the house – but they were not longer wee infants, but lads and lasses, and they did not know him.”

“Where have you been these long long years?” demanded his wife.”How could you do such a thing as to run off and leave your wife and wee bairns to fend for ourselves?”

The man did not know what to say  to this, but   he soon learned that the one day he had spent underground had lasted seven years, while the turf grew back over their roof.    And from that day on, he never again dug peat from that part of the moor, or even dared to venture near to Merlin’s Craig.

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Original Pictures for Storynory by Sophie Green
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If you like SCARY STORIES, then this one is for you. We are putting it out for Halloween, but you can listen any time of year IF YOU DARE !

Baba Yaga is a famous witch of the East. She has spooked and scared little children across Eastern Europe for many a year. This is a her most famous story. A wicked Step-Mother sends Vasilissa to visit the witch in her hut in the woods to ask for some lights. She’s pretty sure that that will be the last she ever sees of her step-daughter -but is she right?

Read by Natasha. Version for Storynory by Bertie. Duration 30 min.

Somewhere in the Eastern part of Europe, where it gets bitterly cold in winter, there is a dark forest. If you are ever brave, foolish or ignorant enough to go wondering through that forest, there is a good chance that you might come across a peculiar house. It’s a wooden hut, but it’s like no other that you have ever seen, for it stands on giant chicken legs – and quite often it walks about, just like a monstrous farm-yard bird. This hut is the home of Baba Yaga. I don’t advise that you knock of the door of Baba Yaga’s hut, no matter how much you have lost your way through the forest. For Baba Yaga is a witch.

On the edge of Baba’s Yaga’s forest, there is a little village, and everyone who lives there knows about the strange hut and the lady who lives inside it. They know her, and they fear her, for it has long been rumored that she likes to eat children.

A long time ago, a man lived in this village with his beautiful daughter, who was called Vasilisa. The girl’s mother had sadly died some years before the start of this story. But before she died, she gave Vasilisa a wonderful gift. It was a little rag doll that did not look so different from any other. The girl’s mother told Vasilisa that she should take special care of the doll. Every night she must feed it a little milk and a little biscuit, and so long as she did so, the doll would always be ready to help her – no matter how much trouble she found herself in. Vasilisa did just as her mother bid her. And every night the little rag doll sat up and drank a little milk, and ate a little biscuit before smiling at Vasilissa and then going back to sleep.

As time went by, the girl’s father decided to marry again. His second wife had two daughters of her own, neither of whom could touch Vasilisa for beauty or sweetness of character. In fact, they were jealous of Vasilissa and they hated her terribly. So long as Vasilissa’s father remained at home, the stepmother and step-sisters had to pretend that they liked her, but every now and then one of the sisters would whisper in Vasilisa’s ear:

“Just you wait until your dear papa leaves us alone with you. Then you’ll see !”

When Vasilisa had recently passed her sixteenth birthday, her father said that he had to go away on a journey that would last at least a month. Vasilisa begged him to take her with him, but he just laughed and said he was traveling on business, and the girl would find the journey tiresome and dull.

The first night after the father had left, the step-mother gathered the three girls together in the parlor and spoke like this:

“Now my dears, I have a little task for each of you. Tanya” – that was the oldest ” – go in my room please my dear and sew a button on my red dress. Katya ” – that was the youngest – ” go to the kitchen table and roll some pastry so that it’s nice and flat. And Vasilissa dear, go to Baba Yaga’s hut in the forest and ask her to lend us some lights. Now run along sweetheart. Don’t waste any time. We don’t want you to get caught in the dark now do we.”

The stepmother shooed Vasilisa out of the house so fast that that she had hardly time to put on her hat and gloves. She walked forlornly to the corner of the street and took the little doll out of her coat pocket where it had been sleeping.

“Oh Little doll,” she said. “My mother told me that if I fed and looked after you, you would be ready to help me if I was ever in trouble. Well I have fed and looked after you. And now I’m in terrible trouble. I must go to Baba Yaga. And every one knows that she is a dreadfully wicked witch. So please tell me – what am I to do?”

And the little doll looked up at Vasilisa and said:

“Be as brave as you are beautiful. Go to Baba Yaga’s hut and no harm will come to you.”

And so Vasilisa mustered all her courage and walked down the path that led through the woods to the hut of Baba Yaga.

After a while, the young girl heard the sound of galloping hooves coming up behind her, and she stepped off the road to let a hose ridden by a rider in a blazing red cloak shoot past her.

“I wonder who that was?” thought Vasilisa before setting off on a her way once more.

A little further on, she once again heard the sound of galloping hooves, and this time a rider in a cloak of dazzling white sped past her and down the road that led to Baba Yaga’s hut.

And some time later, a third horse shot by. Its rider wore a cloak that was as black as night.

After about an hour of walking Vasilisa came to a clearing on the forest. Although it was now getting quite dark, she had no trouble seeing, for this neck of the woods was lit by skulls with blazing eyes.

The skulls were mounted on stop of a high fence. And beyond the fence, She saw the strange hut that stood on chicken legs. It turned round to face her, and it seemed to Vasilisa that the hut was looking at her.
Then the chicken legs began to kneel and the hut lowered to the ground. The door creaked open.

Baba Yaga’s nose was so long and bony that it appeared through the door before the rest of her. A moment or two later the nose was followed by tall skinny old woman holding a broom stick.

Vasilissa was so frightened that her legs would not obey her when she told them to run. The old lady came towards her – but she did not walk – her feet flew just a few inches above the ground.

“Well child,” she said,”Did the cat get your tongue? Or are you just badly brought-up? Speak Child ! Spit out your name and your business here ! I haven’t got all night hover around while you tremble and gibber like an idiot !”

For a few moments Vasilisa’s lips quivered so much that no proper words would come out of her mouth, just a kind of “ah, ah ah,” but she then remembered the doll’s words that no harm would come to her, and eventually she found courage to speak clearly.

“Good Ma’am,” she said. “It is only me, little Vasilisa. My step-mother sent me to the forest to borrow a light from Baba Yaga.”

“Did she now?” said Baba Yaga thoughtfully. “Well I am Baba Yaga, but you may call be Babushka.”

Vasilisa brightened a little at this, for Babushka is a kindly name that means “Grandma”. Baba Yaga went on:

“Now come with me into my hut. I will give you some simple tasks to do. If you are not lazy and you complete your work like a good girl, then I will give you the light that you ask for and let you go free. But if you do not manage these simple tasks then I shall cook you in my oven and eat you for my dinner ! Ha Ha Ha ! How do you like that for an offer?”

To tell you the truth, Vasilisa did not like it at all, but she had faith that all would be well, that she would complete the tasks, and return with the light, and so she curtsied and said:

“I like it well, dear Babushka”, and she followed the old lady as she floated back to the door of her hut and called out: “Locks ! Unlock!”

The doors creaked open, and then shut again behind Vasilisa as she stepped inside. The hut was surprisingly roomy, but a large part of it was taken up by a huge oven. Then Vasilisa had to hold in a scream, because the house started to rise up on its chicken legs and move about. She realised that there would be no escape unless Baba Yaga let her go. `

The witch sat down at the table and gestured to the larder. “Fetch me my supper, dear,” she said.

“Yes, Babushka,” replied Vasilisa, and she brought over some bread and cheese for the old lady.

“Ah well,” said Baba Yaga, “Soon I shall be enjoying a nice plate of roast meat, thinly sliced and pink in the middle.” and with those words she pinched Vasilisa’s arm.

“Now tomorrow my dear, you must complete my little task. When I am away from the hut, you must tidy the yard, clean the hut, and cook pumpkin soup for my super. Can you manage that?”

“Why yes, Babushka, I can.” said Vasilisa, who was relieved that the task did not sound by any means beyond her ability.

“That is good,” said Baba Yaga, “And when you have fished doing that you can sort all

Baba Yaga ate her bread and cheese and drank a tankard of frothy brown ale before falling asleep on top of a thick fur which was strewn above the stove, the warmest place in the hut.

The hut continued to move around and Vasilisa felt queasy. She certainly had no appetite herself, but before she lay down for the night, she did not forget to feed her doll a few crumbs of bread and some drops of milk. When the rag doll had finished her super, Vasilisa asked her:

“Oh dear what have I do? How shall I ever get out of here?”

And the doll replied. “Have courage and keep faith and all will be well, for Baba Yaga is unable to tell a lie and she is bound to keep her promise.”

The next morning, Baba Yaga arose from her bed on top of the stove, and drank another tankard of ale before flying up the chimney and onto the roof. Vasilisa looked out of the window and saw the witch flying away above the trees, but this time she she was riding what looked like a giant mortar. A mortar, by the way, is like a strong wooden bowl, and you can use it for cooking. You put some herbs or spices in there, and crush and grind them with a stick called a pestle. This is what the witch was flying in – only it was much bigger than a usual mortar. And a giant pestle was what the old lady was holding in her hand, and using as a rudder to guide her flight.

Vasilisa gazed at a the witch until she was out of site, and then she started to clean and to cook Sh managed to get everything spic an span, and get the soup on the cooker by mid day, but now she faced an impossible task. How could she possible pick the black peas out of a sack of white ones? Why, there must have been thousands, if not millions of peas in the sack.

She heard a noise outside the hut.

“Oh, Baba Yaga must be back early. Now I’m done for!” she exclaimed – but when she looked out of the window she saw not Baba Yaga, but the white horseman who had over taken her on her way to the hut. He galloped round the fence of the compound and then was off again into the woods. Vasilisa sighed and wished that he would only come and rescue her, whoever he might be. Then when she turned round from the window she saw that all the peas had been sorted into two piles – one black and one white. Her task was done.

That evening, after Baba Yaga flew back home from whatever business she had been on, the old witch could not hide her surprise at all that her guest had managed to achieve in one day.

“I see that you are good little worker my dear,” she said. “Well in that case, tomorrow you can make pea soup and fetch water from the stream to fill up the tank. Here, use this bucket”

But what she handed to Vasilisa was not a bucket, but a sieve, and the poor girl wondered how she would ever manage to use it to fetch water. Still that night, when the little rag doll urged her not to feel despair, she knew in her heart that something wonderful might happen to help her.

And it did. For as she stood by the stream holding the sieve in her hand, the red horseman rode by, took it from her and swept over to the hut where he hurled it through the open window. When Vasilisa returned she found that the tank was filled with fresh water.

That evening Baba Yaga dipped her bony finger in the tank, and tasted a drop of the fresh water. She said:

“Indeed you are a hard working girl. Let’s see if you are clever too. Tonight you can stay up and count the number of stars in the sky. If you tell me the right number in the morning, you can take your light and go free, but if your answer is wrong, even if you tell me one star too many or too few, then I shall have you for my breakfast.”

That night Vasilisa gazed out of the window at the sky and tried to count the stars – 1,2,3, 5.. but by the time she reached 100 stars she was no longer sure whether or not she was counting the same ones again, and she had to start all over again. It did not help that the hut kept moving around so that the view kept on changing.

Eventually, Vasilisa began to sob quietly. She took out her doll and said: “Oh dear little doll, who will come to the aid of poor little Vasilisa this time? I cannot guest the number of stars in the sky, and in the morning the witch shall surely eat me.”

“Do not worry said the doll. Have courage, and keep faith, and all will be well.”

And it was. For at the mid night hour, the black horseman came riding up to the window where Vasilisa was sitting and he whisper a number to her as if in a dream. It was a very big number, but I cannot tell you what it was, for it is a secret. But it was the exact number of stars in the sky that he told her, and in the morning, when Baba Yaga stepped with her bony legs onto the floor, Vasilisa said.

“Good morning Babushka, shall I tell you the number of stars now?”

And Baba Yaga yawned and said:

“Go on child. Tell me. But you had better not be wrong, for if you are, I shall eat you.”

And Vasilisa told the number to Baba Yaga. And Baba Yaga let out a terrible cry like

“Ha !”

And her eyes blazed like those of the skulls on the fence surrounding her hut.

“Who told you that?” she demanded so fiercely that Vasilisa shank back. Baba Yaga picked up plate and threw it across the room so that it smashed against the wall. Then she picked up a knife and Vasillisa was sure she meant to kill her:

“But Babushka,” she said, “You promised that if I told you the number correctly I could take a light and go free.”

And the Baba Yaga froze for a moment, and the fierce glare of her eyes lessened somewhat.

“Ah yes,” she said more calmly “So I did. And I suppose it was morning and day that helped you with the other tasks I set you?”

And Vasilisa nodded, for she now understood that the three horsemen were morning day and night.

“Then you are a good girl,” said Baba Yaga, “For if Morning Day and Night choose to help you, that means that your spirit is in harmony with the universe. I will do you no harm. Wait here while I go on my business. I have no tasks for you today. And tonight you shall return home with a light.”

And that evening, after Baba Yaga flew home on her mortar, she took Vasillisa out into the courtyard and gave her one of the skulls with blazing eyes.

“Take this,” she said, “And it will light up your step-mother and your two step-sisters very well.”

Vasilisa took the skull and returned back down the path to her village. She expected that her step-mother would have found a light by now, but in fact the house was not lit. Instead her relatives were sitting in complete darkness.

She stepped into the house. The skull lit up the inside as bright as day.

“I’m home,” called out Vasilissa

But she received no reply, for as soon as the light fell on her step-mother and sisters, they turned to dust.

And Vasilisa went to live with a kindly old lady in the village until her father returned from his business. When he came back, he thought that his wife and step-daughters must have run away. He did not miss them much. He lived happily with his beautiful daughter, Vasilisa, until one day a prince came riding by and caught sight of her. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he had no hesitation in asking her to marry him, which she did, and they lived happily ever after.

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This old story from Scotland is about a man who makes his living by killing seals and selling their skins. He does not really think about whether or not the animals he hunts have feelings, until one day he has a chance to get to know one.

Read by Natasha. Length 7.18

There was once a man who lived not far from John O’Groat’s house, at the very north of Scotland. He made his living by catching fish of all sizes and types, but he had a particular liking for killing those wonderful beasts, half dog, half fish, called Seals. No doubt he liked killing the seals so much because he got a fancy price for their skins. The truth is, that most of these animals were neither dogs nor cods, but downright fairies as this story shall tell.

Now one day the fisherman stabbed a seal with his hunting knife, but he failed to kill it outright, for the seal let out a loud cry of pain and slipped off the rocks and into the sea, taking the knife with it.

Later that night, after the fisherman had returned home his cottage, a stranger came to visit him. The man said that he had been sent by his master who wanted to buy a large number of seal furs. The fisherman was pleased to hear this news. The two men both mounted the stranger’s horse, and rode off at great speed, their faces cutting through the sharp, salty air. Finally they reached a great cliff that overhung the sea, and the stranger told the fisherman that they had arrived.

“But where is the person you spoke of?” asked the astonished seal-killer.

“Soon you shall see!” replied his stranger, and with that the stranger seized the fisherman with irresistible force, and they both plunged over the cliff and headlong down into the sea. After sinking down down, nobody knows how far, they at last reached a pearly gate which opened onto a palace. The rooms of the palace were filled not with people, but with seals who could speak and feel like human folk. And the seal-killer was astonished to find that he himself had been changed into the form of a seal.

“Am I to spend the rest of my days here, like this?” he asked in great distress.

“Your suffering need not last much longer,” replied his stranger, and so saying he produced a huge knife. The fisherman, who thought he was about to be killed begged for mercy, but the creatures of the deep gathered round and assured him that he would meet with no harm.

“Did you ever see that knife before?” asked the stranger. The fisherman looked at the weapon again and recognised it as the knife that he had lost in the back of a seal.

“Why it is my own,” he admitted.

“Well sir,” said the stranger, “The seal that made away with it is my father, and these past hours he has laid dangerously ill from his wound. Only your healing hand can save him.”

The fisherman was led into another room, in which he found the stricken seal. He was asked to pass his hand over the wound, which he did, and to his surprise it immediately healed. The seal rose from his bed in perfect health, and the mood of the sea-creatures all around changed from mourning to rejoicing.

The seal-catcher thought that he would remain under water as a seal for the rest of his life, but the stranger told him that he could return home on one condition – that he took an oath that he would never harm another seal again so long as he lived. To this, the seal-catcher readily agreed.

And then they swam out of the gates of the palace, and up to the surface of the sea. From there they made their way onto land, and up to the top of the cliff where the horse was waiting for them. By now they had regained human form, and they rode back to the cottage where they had begun their wondrous journey. The seal-cather had already begin to wonder how he would make his living in future – but he need not of worried – for the stranger made him a gift. He presented him with a heavy bag which he carried into his cottage and placed on the table. And when he opened it, he discovered that it was filled with gold.

And that’s the story of The Seal Catcher. And Bertie says that seals aren’t really half dog, half fish, even though they might look a bit like that. They are of course mammals that have flippers instead of feet and powerful tales for swimming.

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Original pictures for Storynory by Sophie Green.
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Read by Natasha. Duration 19.50

There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named Jack, and a cow named Milky-White. And all they had to live on was the milk the cow gave every morning, which they carried to the market and sold. But one morning Milky-White gave no milk.

“What shall we do, what shall we do?” said the widow, wringing her hands.

“Cheer up, mother, I’ll go and get work somewhere,” said Jack.

“We’ve tried that before, and nobody would take you,” said his mother. “We must sell Milky-White and with the money start a shop, or something.”

“All right, mother,” says Jack. “It’s market day today, and I’ll soon sell Milky-White, and then we’ll see what we can do.”

So he took the cow, and off he started. He hadn’t gone far when he met a funny-looking old man, who said to him, “Good morning, Jack.”

“Good morning to you,” said Jack, and wondered how he knew his name.

“Well, Jack, and where are you off to?” said the man.

“I’m going to market to sell our cow there.”

“Oh, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows,” said the man. “I wonder if you know how many beans make five.”

“Two in each hand and one in your mouth,” says Jack, as sharp as a needle.

“Right you are,” says the man, “and here they are, the very beans themselves,” he went on, pulling out of his pocket a number of strange-looking beans. “As you are so sharp,” says he, “I don’t mind doing a swap with you — your cow for these beans.”

“Go along,” says Jack. “You take me for a fool!”

“Ah! You don’t know what these beans are,” said the man. “If you plant them overnight, by morning they grow right up to the sky.”

“Really?” said Jack. “You don’t say so.”

“Yes, that is so. And if it doesn’t turn out to be true you can have your cow back.”

“Right,” says Jack, and hands him over Milky-White and pockets the beans.

Back home goes Jack and says to his mother:

“You’ll never guess mother what I got for Milky-White.”

And his mother became very excited:

“Five pounds? Ten? Fifteen? No, it can’t be twenty.”

“I told you you couldn’t guess. What do you say to these beans? They’re magical. Plant them overnight and — ”

“What!” says Jack’s mother. “Have you been such a fool, such a dolt, such an idiot? Take that! Take that! Take that! And as for your precious beans here they go out of the window. And now off with you to bed. Not a sup shall you drink, and not a bit shall you swallow this very night.”

So Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic, and sad and sorry he was, to be sure.

At last he dropped off to sleep.

When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. So Jack jumped up and went to the window. And what do you think he saw? Why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window into the garden had sprung up into a giant beanstalk which went up and up and up till it reached the sky. So the man spoke truth after all.

The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack’s window, so all he had to do was to open it and give a jump onto the beanstalk which ran up just like a big ladder. So Jack climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long broad road going as straight as a dart. So he walked along, and he walked along, and he walked along till he came to a great big tall house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman.

“Good morning, ma’am,” says Jack, quite polite-like. “Could you be so kind as to give mesome breakfast?” For he was as hungry as a hunter.

“It’s breakfast you want, is it?” says the great big tall woman. “It’s breakfast you’ll be if you don’t move off from here. My man is an ogre and there’s nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You’d better be moving on or he’ll be coming.”

“Oh! please, mum, do give me something to eat, mum. I’ve had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, really and truly, mum,” says Jack. “I may as well be broiled as die of hunger.”

Well, the ogre’s wife was not half so bad after all. So she took Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a hunk of bread and cheese and a jug of milk. But Jack hadn’t half finished these when thump! thump! thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone coming.

“Goodness gracious me! It’s my old man,” said the ogre’s wife. “What on earth shall I do? Come along quick and jump in here.” And she bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in.

He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung up by the heels, and he unhooked them and threw them down on the table and said:

Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I’ll have his bones to grind my bread.”

“Nonsense, dear,” said his wife. “You’ re dreaming. Or perhaps you smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday’s dinner. Here, you go and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you come back your breakfast’ll be ready for you.”

So off the ogre went, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven and run away when the woman told him: “Wait till he’s asleep. He always has a doze after breakfast.”

Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he goes to a big chest and takes out a couple of bags of gold, and down he sits and counts till at last his head began to nod and he began to snore till the whole house shook again.

Then Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the ogre, he took one of the bags of gold under his arm, and off he pelters till he came to the beanstalk, and then he threw down the bag of gold, which, of course, fell into his mother’s garden, and then he climbed down and climbed down till at last he got home and told his mother and showed her the gold and said, “Well, mother, wasn’t I right about the beans? They are really magical, you see.”

So they lived on the bag of gold for some time, but at last they came to the end of it, and Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early, and got onto the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he came out onto the road again and up to the great tall house he had been to before. There, sure enough, was the great tall woman a-standing on the doorstep.

“Good morning, mum,” says Jack, as bold as brass, “could you be so good as to give me something to eat?”

“Go away, my boy,” said the big tall woman, “or else my man will eat you up for breakfast. But aren’t you the youngster who came here once before? Do you know, that very day my man missed one of his bags of gold.”

“That’s strange, mum,” said Jack, “I dare say I could tell you something about that, but I’m so hungry I can’t speak till I’ve had something to eat.”

Well, the big tall woman was so curious that she took him in and gave him something to eat. But he had scarcely begun munching it as slowly as he could when thump! thump! they heard the giant’s footstep, and his wife hid Jack away in the oven.

All happened as it did before. In came the ogre as he did before, said, “Fee-fi-fo-fum,” and had his breakfast off three broiled oxen.

Then he said, “Wife, the hen that lays the golden eggs.” So she brought it, and the ogre said, “Lay,” and it laid an egg all of gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head, and to snore till the house shook.

Then Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the golden hen, and was off before you could say “Jack Robinson.” But this time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got out of the house he heard him calling, “Wife, wife, what have you done with my golden hen?”

And the wife said, “Why, my dear?”

But that was all Jack heard, for he rushed off to the beanstalk and climbed down like a house on fire. And when he got home he showed his mother the wonderful hen, and said “Lay” to it; and it laid a golden egg every time he said “Lay.”

Well it wasn’t long before Jack made up his mind to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early and got to the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till he got to the top.

But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre’s house. And when he got near it, he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre’s wife come out with a pail to get some water, and then he crept into the house and got into a big copper pot. He hadn’t been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in came the ogre and his wife.

“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,” cried out the ogre. “I smell him, wife, I smell him.”

“Do you, my dearie?” says the ogre’s wife. “Then, if it’s that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he’s sure to have got into the oven.” And they both rushed to the oven.

But Jack wasn’t there, luckily.

So the ogre sat down to the breakfast and ate it, but every now and then he would mutter, “Well, I could have sworn –” and he’d get up and search the larder and the cupboards and everything, only, luckily, he didn’t think of the copper pot.

After breakfast was over, the ogre called out, “Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp.”

So she brought it and put it on the table before him. Then he said, “Sing!” and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep, and commenced to snore like thunder.

Then Jack lifted up the copper lid very quietly and got down like a mouse and crept on hands and knees till he came to the table, when up he crawled, caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it towards the door.

But the harp called out quite loud, “Master! Master!” and the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp.

Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and would soon have caught him, only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit and knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear. And when he came to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath climbing down for dear life. Well, the ogre didn’t like trusting himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another start.

But just then the harp cried out, “Master! Master!” and the ogre swung himself down onto the beanstalk, which shook with his weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre.

By this time Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was very nearly home. So he called out, “Mother! Mother! bring me an axe, bring me an axe.” And his mother came rushing out with the ax in her hand, but when she came to the beanstalk she stood stock still with fright, for there she saw the ogre with his legs just through the clouds.

But Jack jumped down and got hold of the ax and gave a chop at the beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake and quiver, so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave another chop with the ax, and the beanstalk was cut in two and began to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his crown, and the beanstalk came toppling after.

Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever after.

Download the audio of Lazy Jack

Lazy Jack goes out to work, but he’s not used to earning a living, and he gets into all sorts of muddles.

This old English story, collected by James Halliwell Orchard Phillips, is a good fireside yarn. If you know the story of the Golden Goose, you might see some similarities. It has a nice repeating structure, and by the end of it, you will probably agree with Jack’s mother, that he’s not the cleverest of lads.

Read by Natasha. Duration: 6.23.

Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother in a dreary cottage. They were very poor, and the old woman earned a few pennies by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the fire in the winter time. His mother could not make him do anything for her, and until at last she warned him that if he did not begin to work for his porridge, she would turn him out of the house to get his living as best he could.

This threat finally stirred Jack, and he went out and found a job for the day working for on a farm. The farmer paid him one penny, but he was not used to having money, and as he was coming him he lost it as he passed over a stream. “You stupid boy,” said his mother, “you should have put it in your pocket.” “Next time I will,” replied Jack.

The next day Jack went out again, and found a job with a cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day’s work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home. “Dear me!” said the old woman; “you should have carried it on ‘ head.” “Next time I will,” replied Jack.

The following day Jack found a job with a farmer, who agreed to give him a cream cheese for his work. In the evening, Jack took the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home the cheese was completely spoiled, part of it being lost, and part matted with his hair. “You good-for-nothing boy,” said his mother, “you should have carried it very carefully in your hands.” “Next time, I will,” replied Jack.

The day after this Jack again went out, and found a job with a baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tom-cat. Jack took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in a short time Tommy scratched him so much that he was forced to let it go. When he got home, his mother said to him, “You silly fellow, you should have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you.” “Next time I will” said Jack.

The next day Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded his labours by the handsome present of a shoulder of lamb. Jack took the meat, tied it to a string, and trailed it along after him in the dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely spoilt. His mother this time completely lost her patience with him, for the next day was Sunday, and she had to make do with cabbage for her dinner. “You nincompoop,” said she to her son, “you should have carried it on your shoulder” “Next time I will,” replied Jack.

On the Monday, Jack went out once more, and found a job with a cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Although Jack was very strong, he found some difficulty in hoisting the donkey on his shoulders, but at last he managed it, and began walking slowly home with his prize. Now it happened that in a house along his way there lived a rich man with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, but unfortunately deaf and dumb; she had never really laughed in her life, and the doctors said she would never recover till somebody made her laugh.

Many tried without success, and at last the father, in despair, said he would offer her in marriage to the first man who could make her laugh. This young lady happened to be looking out of the window when Jack was passing with the donkey on his shoulders, the legs sticking up in the air, and the sight was so comical and strange, that she burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and kept his promised by marrying her to Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They lived in a large house, and Jack’s mother lived with them in great happiness until she died.

And that’s the story of Lazy Jack By James Halliwell Orchard Phillips. I do hope you enjoyed it. Bertie says that perhaps Jack wasn’t quite so lazy after all – but he certainly wasn’t the brightest of boys.

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If you like magic, invisible cloaks, secret gardens, enchanted castles, and glittering dances, then this is the story for you.

The Brothers Grimm wrote the most famous version of this mystery tale about how 12 beautiful princesses manage to wear out their dancing shoes every night, even though they never seem to leave their room. However, we have chosen the “French Version” as told in English by Andrew Lang. It’s even more romantic and exciting, and it has some lovely light touches:

It was whispered about that they led exactly the lives that princesses ought to lead, sleeping far into the morning, and never getting up till mid-day.

Barbie has recently appeared in her own version of this fairy tale. We say not a word against La Belle Barbie, but Bertie’s version is the TRUE one!

If you like this story, you might also enjoy listening to The Sweetest Princess, The Princess and the Pea, and Cinderella.

Told by Natasha. Duration 26 Minutes.

ONCE upon a time there lived, in a village in the mountains, a little cow-herd, without either father or mother. His real name was Michael, but he was always called the Star Gazer, because when he drove his cows over the fields, he went along with his head in the air, gaping at the sky.

As he had a white skin, blue eyes, and hair that curled all over his head, the village girls used to cry after him, ‘Well, Star Gazer, what are you doing?’ and Michael would answer, ‘Oh, nothing,’ and go on his way without even turning to look at them.

The fact was he thought them very ugly, with their sun-burnt necks, their great red hands, their coarse petticoats and their wooden shoes. He had heard that somewhere in the world there were girls whose necks were white and whose hands were small, who were always dressed in the finest silks and laces, and were called princesses.

At night, he and his friends sat around the fire, looked into the flames, and imagined their future lives. His friends had very ordinary fancies, but he
he dreamed that one day he would marry a princess.

One morning about the middle of August, just at mid-day when the sun was hottest, Michael ate his dinner of a piece of dry bread, and went to sleep under an oak tree

And while he slept, he dreamt of a beautiful lady, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold, who said to him: “Go to the castle of Beloeil, and there you shall marry a princess.”

That evening the little cow-boy, who had been thinking a great deal about the advice of the lady in the golden dress, told his dream to the farm people. But, as was natural, they only laughed at the Star Gazer.

The next day at the same hour he went to sleep again under the same tree. The lady appeared to him a second time, and said: “Go to the castle of Beloeil, and you shall marry a princess.”

In the evening Michael told his friends that he had dreamed the same dream again, but they only laughed at him more than before. “Never mind,” he thought to himself; “if the lady appears to me a third time, I will do as she tells me.”

The following day, to the great astonishment of all the village, about two o’clock in the afternoon a voice was heard singing:

“Rale, rale,
How the cattle go!”

It was the little cow-boy driving his herd back to the cow-shed.

The farmer began to scold him furiously saying it was far too soon to bring the cows home, but he answered quietly, “I am going away,” made his clothes into a bundle, said good-bye to all his friends, and boldly set out to seek his princess.

There was great excitement through all the village, and on the top of the hill the people stood holding their sides with laughing, as they watched the Star Gazer trudging bravely along the valley with his bundle at the end of his stick.

It was enough to make anyone laugh, certainly.

It was well known for full twenty miles round that there lived in the castle of Beloeil twelve princesses of wonderful beauty, and as proud as they were beautiful, and who were besides so very sensitive and of such truly royal blood, that each would have felt at once the presence of a pea in her bed, even if the mattress had been laid over it.

It was whispered about that they led exactly the lives that princesses ought to lead, sleeping far into the morning, and never getting up till mid-day. They had twelve beds all in the same room, but what was very extraordinary was the fact that though they were locked in by triple bolts, every morning their satin shoes were found worn into holes.

When the Duke asked what they had been doing all night, they always answered that they had been asleep; and, indeed, no noise was ever heard in the room, yet the shoes could not wear themselves out alone!

At last the Duke of Beloeil ordered the trumpet to be sounded, and a proclamation to be made that whoever could discover how his daughters wore out their shoes should choose one of them for his wife.

On hearing the proclamation a number of princes arrived at the castle to try their luck. They watched all night behind the open door of the princesses, but when the morning came they had all disappeared, and no one could tell what had become of them.

When he reached the castle, Michael went straight to the gardener and asked him for a job in the garden, and though the Star Gazer did not look very sturdy, the gardener agreed to take him on, as he thought that his pretty face and golden curls would please the princesses.

The gardener told Michael that when the princesses got up, he was to present each one with a bouquet, and Michael thought that if he had nothing more unpleasant to do than that he should get on very well.

And so he placed himself behind the door of the princesses’ room, with the twelve bouquets in a basket. When they arose, he gave one to each of the sisters. The princesses took the flowers without even deigning to look at the lad, except Lina the youngest, who fixed her large black eyes as soft as velvet on him, and exclaimed, ‘Oh, how pretty he is — our new flower boy!’ The rest all burst out laughing, and the eldest pointed out that a princess ought never to lower herself by looking at a garden boy.

Now the the beautiful eyes of the Princess Lina inspired him with a violent longing to try his fate – and see if he could discover the secret of satin shoes that were worn out every night. This was his only chance to win her hand in marriage.

However, he did not dare to come forward, being afraid that he should only be jeered at, or even turned away from the castle on account of his impudence. And so he loved the princess Lina and her dark eyes without saying a word to anybody.

Then the Star Gazer had another dream. The lady in the golden dress appeared to him once more, holding in one hand two young trees, a cherry laurel and a rose laurel, and in the other hand a little golden rake, a little golden bucket, and a silken towel. She spoke to him as follows:

“Plant these two laurels in two large pots, rake them over with the rake, water them with the bucket, and wipe them with the towel. When they have grown as tall as a girl of fifteen, say to each of them, ‘My beautiful laurel, with the golden rake I have raked you, with the golden bucket I have watered you, with the silken towel I have wiped you.’ Then after that ask anything you choose, and the laurels will give it to you.”

Michael thanked the lady in the golden dress, and when he woke he found the two laurel bushes beside him. So he carefully obeyed the orders he had been given by the lady.

The trees grew very fast, and when they were as tall as a girl of fifteen he said to the cherry laurel, “My lovely cherry laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with the silken towel I have wiped thee. Teach me how to become invisible.” Then there instantly appeared on the laurel a pretty white flower, which Michael gathered and stuck into his button-hole. And as soon as he had done so, he saw his hands and arms disappear, and then his entire body, and he was completely invisible.

That evening, when the princesses went upstairs to bed, he followed them barefoot, so that he might make no noise, and hid himself under one of the twelve beds, so as not to take up much room.

The princesses began at once to open their wardrobes and boxes. They took out of them the most magnificent dresses, which they put on before their mirrors, and when they had finished, turned themselves all round to admire their appearances.

Michael could see nothing from his hiding-place, but he could hear everything, and he listened to the princesses laughing and jumping with pleasure. At last the eldest said, ‘Be quick, my sisters, our partners will be impatient.’ At the end of an hour, when the Star Gazer heard no more noise, he peeped out and saw the twelve sisters in splendid garments, with their satin shoes on their feet, and in their hands the bouquets he had brought them.

“Are you ready?” asked the eldest.

“Yes,” replied the other eleven in chorus, and they took their places one by one behind her.

Then the eldest Princess clapped her hands three times and a trap door opened. All the princesses disappeared down a secret staircase, and Michael hastily followed them.

As he was following on the steps of the Princess Lina, he carelessly trod on her dress.

“There is somebody behind me,” cried the Princess; “they are holding my dress.”

“You foolish thing,” said her eldest sister, “you are always afraid of something. It is only a nail which caught you.”

They went down, down, down, till at last they came to a passage with a door at one end, which was only fastened with a latch. The eldest Princess opened it, and they found themselves immediately in a lovely little wood, where the leaves were spangled with drops of silver which shone in the brilliant light of the moon.

They next crossed another wood where the leaves were sprinkled with gold, and after that another still, where the leaves glittered with diamonds.

At last the Star Gazer saw a large lake, and on the shores of the lake twelve little boats with awnings, in which were seated twelve princes, who, grasping their oars, awaited the princesses.

Each princess entered one of the boats, and Michael slipped into the one which held the youngest. The boats glided along rapidly, but Lina’s, from being heavier, was always behind the rest. “We never went so slowly before,” said the Princess; “what can be the reason?”

“I don’t know,” answered the Prince. “I assure you I am rowing as hard as I can.”

On the other side of the lake the garden boy saw a beautiful castle splendidly illuminated, from which came the lively music of fiddles, kettle-drums, and trumpets.

In a moment they touched land, and the company jumped out of the boats; and the princes, after having securely fastened their boats, gave their arms to the princesses and led them to the castle.

Michael followed, and entered the ball-room with them. Everywhere were mirrors, lights, flowers, and silk hangings.

The Star Gazer was quite bewildered at the magnificence of the sight.

He placed himself out of the way in a corner, admiring the grace and beauty of the princesses. Their loveliness was of every kind. Some were fair and some were dark; some had chestnut hair, or curls darker still, and some had golden locks. Never were so many beautiful princesses seen together at one time, but the one whom the cow-boy thought the most beautiful and the most fascinating was the little Princess with the velvet eyes.

With what eagerness she danced! leaning on her partner’s shoulder she swept by like a whirlwind. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkled, and it was plain that she loved dancing better than anything else.

The poor boy envied those handsome young men with whom she danced so gracefully, but he did not know how little reason he had to be jealous of them.

The young men were really the princes who, to the number of fifty at least, had tried to steal the princesses’ secret. The princesses had made them drink a magic potion, which froze the heart and left nothing but the love of dancing.

They danced on till the shoes of the princesses were worn into holes. When the cock crowed the third time the fiddles stopped, and a delicious supper was served, consisting of sugared orange flowers, crystallised rose leaves, powdered violets, cream crackers, and other dishes, which are, as everyone knows, the favourite food of princesses.

After supper, the dancers all went back to their boats, and this time the Star Gazer entered that of the eldest Princess. They crossed again the wood with the diamond-spangled leaves, the wood with gold-sprinkled leaves, and the wood whose leaves glittered with drops of silver, and as a proof of what he had seen, the boy broke a small branch from a tree in the last wood. Lina turned as she heard the noise made by the breaking of the branch.

“What was that noise?” she said.

“It was nothing,” replied her eldest sister; “it was only the screech of the barn-owl that roosts in one of the turrets of the castle.”

While she was speaking Michael managed to slip in front, and running up the staircase, he reached the princesses’ room first. He flung open the window, and sliding down the vine which climbed up the wall, found himself in the garden just as the sun was beginning to rise, and it was time for him to set to his work.

That day, when he made up the bouquets, Michael hid the branch with the silver drops in the bouquet intended for the youngest Princess.

When Lina discovered it she was much surprised. However, she said nothing to her sisters, but as she met the boy by accident while she was walking under the shade of the elms, she suddenly stopped as if to speak to him; then, altering her mind, went on her way.

The same evening the twelve sisters went again to the ball, and the Star Gazer again followed them and crossed the lake in Lina’s boat.

As they came back, Michael gathered a branch from the wood with the gold-spangled leaves, and now it was the eldest Princess who heard the noise that it made in breaking.

“It is nothing,” said Lina; “only the cry of the owl which roosts in the turrets of the castle.”

As soon as she got up she found the branch in her bouquet. When the sisters went down she stayed a little behind and said to the cow-boy: “Where does this branch come from?”

“Your Royal Highness knows well enough,” answered Michael.

“So you have followed us?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“How did you manage it? we never saw you.”

“I hid myself,” replied the Star Gazer quietly.

The Princess was silent a moment, and then said:

“You know our secret! — keep it. Here is the reward of your discretion.” And she flung the boy a purse of gold.

“I do not sell my silence,” answered Michael, and he went away without picking up the purse.

For three nights Lina neither saw nor heard anything extraordinary; on the fourth she heard a rustling among the diamond- spangled leaves of the wood. That day there was a branch of the trees in her bouquet.

She took the Star Gazer aside, and said to him in a harsh voice:

“You know what price my father has promised to pay for our secret?”

“I know, Princess,” answered Michael.

“Don’t you mean to tell him?”

“That is not my intention.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No, Princess.”

“What makes you so discreet, then?”

But Michael was silent.

Lina’s sisters had seen her talking to the little garden boy, and jeered at her for it.

“What prevents your marrying him?” asked the eldest, “you would become a gardener too; it is a charming profession. You could live in a cottage at the end of the park, and help your husband to draw up water from the well, and when we get up you could bring us our bouquets.”

The Princess Lina was very angry, and when the Star Gazer presented her bouquet, she received it in a disdainful manner.

Michael behaved most respectfully. He never raised his eyes to her, but nearly all day she felt him at her side without ever seeing him.

One day she made up her mind to tell everything to her eldest sister.

“What!” said she, “this rogue knows our secret, and you never told me! I must lose no time in getting rid of him.”

“But how?”

“Why, by having him taken to the tower with the dungeons, of course.”

For this was the way that in old times beautiful princesses got rid of people who knew too much.

But the astonishing part of it was that the youngest sister did not seem at all to relish the idea of throwing the boy into a dungeon.

At last it was decided that Michael should be put to the test; that they would take him to the ball, and at the end of supper would give him the magic potion which was to enchant him like the rest.

In fact had been present, invisible, while the princesses made their plans, and had heard all; but he had made up his mind to drink of the potion and sacrifice himself to the happiness of her he loved.

Not wishing, however, to cut a poor figure at the ball by the side of the other dancers, he went at once to the laurels, and said:

“My lovely rose laurel, with the golden rake I have raked thee, with the golden bucket I have watered thee, with a silken towel I have dried thee. Dress me like a prince.”

A beautiful pink flower appeared. Michael gathered it, and found himself in a moment clothed in velvet, which was as black as the eyes of the little Princess, with a cap to match, a diamond aigrette, and a blossom of the rose laurel in his button-hole.

This time he did not cross in Lina’s boat. He gave his arm to the eldest sister, danced with each in turn, and was so graceful that everyone was delighted with him. At last the time came for him to dance with the little Princess. She found him the best partner in the world, but he did not dare to speak a single word to her.

When he was taking her back to her place she said to him in a mocking voice:

“Here you are at the summit of your wishes: you are being treated like a prince.”

“Don’t be afraid,” replied the Star Gazer gently. “You shall never be a gardener’s wife.”

The little Princess stared at him with a frightened face, and he left her without waiting for an answer.

At last the eldest sister made a sign, and one of the page boys brought in a large golden cup.

“The enchanted castle has no more secrets for you,” she said to the Star Gazer. “Let us drink to your triumph.”

He cast a lingering glance at the little Princess, and without hesitation lifted the cup.

“Don’t drink!” suddenly cried out the little Princess; “I would rather marry a gardener.”

And she burst into tears.

Michael flung the contents of the cup behind him, sprang over the table, and fell at Lina’s feet. The rest of the princes fell likewise at the knees of the princesses, each of whom chose a husband and raised him to her side. The charm was broken.

The twelve couples embarked in the boats,

They went straight to the room of the Duke, who had just awoke. Michael held in his hand the golden cup, and he revealed the secret of the holes in the shoes.

“Choose, then,” said the Duke, “whichever of my daughters you prefer.”

“My choice is already made,” replied the garden boy, and he offered his hand to the youngest Princess, who blushed and lowered her eyes.

The Princess Lina did not become a gardener’s wife; on the contrary, it was the Star Gazer who became a Prince.

This most romantic of stories has been made popular recently by Barbie. We don’t say a word against Barbie – but this is, well, the true version.

Download Dick Whittington and His Cat

The rags to riches story of Dick Whittington and his cat is not just a fairy tale: it is part of the folklore of London. Today there is a monument to his cat near the Whittington Stone pub at the foot of Highgate Hill where Dick sat down and heard the famous Bow Bells of East London ring out:

Turn Again Whittington!
Thrice Lord Mayor of London!

The real Dick Whittington was Lord Mayor of London in 1397, 1406 and 1419, and was a successful textile merchant.

The figure of Sir Richard Whittington with his cat in his arms, carved in stone, was to be seen till the year 1780 over the archway of the old prison at Newgate, which he built for criminals, while the logo of the Whittington Hospital, Highgate, still encorporates his cat.

This version (slightly edited) is by James Orchard Halliwell-Phillipps (1820-1829) (also author of Nursery Rhymes of England.)

Told by Natasha. Duration 23 Minutes.

For more background, visit these external sites:

Purr–n-fur – the Tale of Dick Whittington
BBC Myths
Dick Whittington Wikipedia
Flickr Photos Tagged Dick Whittington
Dick’s Cat picture by Septuagesima (Creative Commons).

In the reign of the famous King Edward III there was a little boy called Dick Whittington whose father and mother died when he was very young. As poor Dick was not old enough to work, he was very badly off; he got but little for his dinner, and sometimes nothing at all for his breakfast; for the people who lived in the village were very poor indeed, and could not spare him much more than the parings of potatoes, and now and then a hard crust of bread.

Now Dick had heard many, many very strange things about the great city called London; for the country people at that time thought that folks in London were all fine gentlemen and ladies; and that there was singing and music there all day long; and that the streets were all paved with gold.

One day a large waggon and eight horses, all with bells at their heads, drove through the village while Dick was standing by the signpost. He thought that this waggon must be going to the fine town of London; so he took courage, and asked the driver to let him travel with him. So off they set together.

Dick got safe to London, and was in such a hurry to see the fine street paved all over with gold that he did not even stay to thank the kind wagon driver; but ran off as fast as his legs would carry him, through many of the streets, thinking every moment to come to those that were paved with gold; he thought that if he just took some little bits of the pavement, he should then have as much money as he could wish for.

Poor Dick ran till he was tired, but at last, finding that every way he turned he saw nothing but dirt instead of gold, he sat down in a dark corner and cried himself to sleep.

Little Dick was all night in the streets; and next morning, being very hungry, he got up and walked about, and asked everybody he met to give him a halfpenny to keep him from starving; but nobody stayed to answer him, and only two or three gave him a halfpenny; so that the poor boy was soon quite weak and faint with hunger. He asked another man for money, who replied ‘Go to work you lazy dog.’ ‘That I will,’ said Dick, ‘I will go to work for you, if you will let me.’ But the man only cursed at him and went on.

At last a good-natured-looking gentleman saw how hungry he looked. ‘Why don’t you go to work, my lad?’ said he to Dick. ‘That I would, but I do not know how to get any,’ answered Dick. ‘If you are willing, come along with me,’ said the gentleman, and took him to a hay-field, where Dick worked briskly, and lived merrily till the hay was made.

After this he found himself as badly off as before; and being almost starved again, he laid himself down at the door of Mr Fitzwarren, a rich merchant. Here he was soon seen by the cook-maid, who was an ill-tempered creature, and happened just then to be very busy dressing dinner for her master and mistress; so she called out to poor Dick: ‘What business have you there, you lazy rogue? There is nothing else but beggars. If you do not take yourself away, we will see how you will like a sousing of some dish-water; I have some here hot enough to make you jump.’

Just at that time Mr Fitzwarren himself came home to dinner; and when he saw a dirty ragged boy lying at the door, he said to him: ‘Why do you lie there, my boy? You seem old enough to work; I am afraid you are inclined to be lazy.’

‘No, indeed, sir,’ said Dick to him, ‘that is not the case, for I would work with all my heart, but I do not know anybody, and I believe I am very sick for the want of food.’

‘Poor fellow, get up; let me see what ails you.’

Dick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again, being too weak to stand, for he had not eaten any food for three days, and was no longer able to run about and beg a halfpenny of people in the street. So the kind merchant ordered him to be taken into the house, and have a good dinner given him, and be kept to do what work he was able to do for the cook.

Little Dick would have lived very happy in this good family if it had not been for the ill-natured cook. She used to say:

‘You are under me, so look sharp; clean the spit and the dripping-pan, make the fires, wind up the jack, and do all the scullery work nimbly, or –, and she would shake the ladle at him. Besides, she was so fond of basting that when she had no meat to baste she would baste poor Dick’s head and shoulders with a broom, or anything else that happened to fall in her way. At last her ill-usage of him was told to Alice, Mr Fitzwarren’s daughter, who told the cook she should be turned away if she did not treat him kinder.

The behaviour of the cook was now a little better; but besides this, Dick had another hardship to get over. His bed stood in a garret, where there were so many holes in the floor and the walls that every night he was tormented with rats and mice. A gentleman having given Dick a penny for cleaning his shoes, he thought he would buy a cat with it. The next day he saw a girl with a cat, and asked her, ‘Will you let me have that cat for a penny?’ The girl said: ‘Yes, that I will, master, though she is an excellent mouser.’

Dick hid his cat in the garret, and always took care to carry a part of his dinner to her; and in a short time he had no more trouble with the rats and mice, but slept quite sound every night.

Soon after this, his master had a ship ready to sail; and as it was the custom that all his servants should have some chance for good fortune as well as himself, he called them all into the parlour and asked them what they would send out.

They all had something that they were willing to venture except poor Dick, who had neither money nor goods, and therefore could send nothing. For this reason he did not come into the parlour with the rest; but Miss Alice guessed what was the matter, and ordered him to be called in. She then said: ‘I will lay down some money for him, from my own purse’; but her father told her: ‘This will not do, for it must be something of his own.’

When poor Dick heard this, he said: ‘I have nothing but a cat which I bought for a penny some time since of a little girl.’

‘Fetch your cat then, my lad,’ said Mr Fitzwarren, ‘and let her go.’

Dick went upstairs and brought down poor puss, with tears in his eyes, and gave her to the captain; ‘for,’ he said, ‘I shall now be kept awake all night by the rats and mice.’ All the company laughed at Dick’s odd venture; and Miss Alice, who felt pity for him, gave him some money to buy another cat.

This, and many other marks of kindness shown him by Miss Alice, made the ill-tempered cook jealous of poor Dick, and she began to use him more cruelly than ever, and always made game of him for sending his cat to sea. She asked him: ‘Do you think your cat will sell for as much money as would buy a stick to beat you?’

At last poor Dick could not bear this usage any longer, and he thought he would run away from his place; so he packed up his few things, and started very early in the morning, on All-Hallows Day, the first of November. He walked as far as Holloway; and there sat down on a stone, which to this day is called ‘Whittington’s Stone’, and began to think to himself which road he should take.

While he was thinking what he should do, the Bells of Bow Church, which at that time were only six, began to ring, and at their sound seemed to say to him:

‘Turn again, Whittington,
Thrice Lord Mayor of London.’

‘Lord Mayor of London!’ said he to himself. ‘Why, to be sure, I would put up with almost anything now, to be Lord Mayor of London, and ride in a fine coach, when I grow to be a man! Well, I will go back, and think nothing of the cuffing and scolding of the old cook, if I am to be Lord Mayor of London at last.’

Dick went back, and was lucky enough to get into the house, and set about his work before the old cook came downstairs.

We must now follow Miss Puss to the coast of Africa. The ship with the cat on board was a long time at sea; and was at last driven by the winds on a part of the coast of Barbary, where the only people were the Moors, unknown to the English. The people came in great numbers to see the sailors, because they were of different colour to themselves, and treated them civilly; and, when they became better acquainted, were very eager to buy the fine things that the ship was loaded with.

When the captain saw this, he sent patterns of the best things he had to the king of the country; who was so much pleased with them that he sent for the captain to the palace. Here they were placed, as it is the custom of the country, on rich carpets flowered with gold and silver. The king and queen were seated at the upper end of the room; and a number of dishes were brought in for dinner. They had not sat long, when a vast number of rats and mice rushed in, and devoured all the meat in an instant. The captain wondered at this, and asked if these vermin were not unpleasant.

‘Oh, yes,’ said they, ‘very offensive; and the king would give half his treasure to be freed of them, for they not only destroy his dinner, as you see, but they assault him in his chamber, and even in bed, so that he is obliged to be watched while he is sleeping, for fear of them.’

The captain jumped for joy; he remembered poor Whittington and his cat, and told the king he had a creature on board the ship that would dispatch all these vermin immediately. The king jumped so high at the joy which the news gave him that his turban dropped off his head. ‘Bring this creature to me,’ says he; ‘vermin are dreadful in a court, and if she will perform what you say, I will load your ship with gold and jewels in exchange for her.’

The captain, who knew his business, took his opportunity to set forth the merits of Miss Puss. He told his majesty: ‘It is not very convenient to part with her, as, when she is gone, the rats and mice may destroy the goods in the ship–but to oblige your majesty, I will fetch her.’

‘Run, run!’ said the queen; ‘I am impatient to see the dear creature.’

Away went the captain to the ship, while another dinner was got ready. He put Puss under his arm, and arrived at the place just in time to see the table full of rats. When the cat saw them, she did not wait for bidding, but jumped out of the captain’s arms, and in a few minutes laid almost all the rats and mice dead at her feet. The rest of them in their fright scampered away to their holes.

The king was quite charmed to get rid so easily of such plagues, and the queen desired that the creature who had done them so great a kindness might be brought to her, that she might look at her. Upon which the captain called: ‘Pussy, pussy, pussy!’ and she came to him. He then presented her to the queen, who started back, and was afraid to touch a creature who had made such a havoc among the rats and mice. However, when the captain stroked the cat and called: ‘Pussy, pussy’, the queen also touched her and cried: ‘Putty, putty’, for she had not learned English. He then put her down on the queen’s lap, where she purred and played with her majesty’s hand, and then purred herself to sleep.

The king, having seen the exploits of Miss Puss, and being informed that her kittens would stock the whole country, and keep it free from rats, bargained with the captain for the whole ship’s cargo, and then gave him ten times as much for the cat as all the rest amounted to.

The captain then took leave of the royal party, and set sail with a fair wind for England, and after a happy voyage arrived safe in London.

One morning, early, Mr Fitzwarren had just come to his counting-house and seated himself at the desk, to count over the cash, and settle the business for the day, when somebody came tap, tap, at the door. ‘Who’s there?’ said Mr Fitzwarren. ‘A friend,’ answered the other; ‘I come to bring you good news of your ship Unicorn.’ The merchant, bustling up in such a hurry that he forgot his gout, opened the door, and who should he see waiting but the captain and factor, with a cabinet of jewels and a bill of lading; when he looked at this the merchant lifted up his eyes and thanked Heaven for sending him such a prosperous voyage.

They then told the story of the cat, and showed the rich present that the king and queen had sent for her to poor Dick. As soon as the merchant heard this, he called out to his servants:

‘Go send him in, and tell him of his fame;
Pray call him Mr Whittington by name.’

Mr Fitzwarren now showed himself to be a good man; for when some of his servants said so great a treasure was too much for him, he answered: ‘God forbid I should deprive him of the value of a single penny; it is his own, and he shall have it to a farthing.’

He then sent for Dick, who at that time was scouring pots for the cook, and was quite dirty. He would have excused himself from coming into the counting-house, saying, ‘The room is swept, and my shoes are dirty and full of hob-nails.’ But the merchant ordered him to come in.

Mr Fitzwarren ordered a chair to be set for him, and so he began to think they were making game of him, and at the same time said to them: ‘Do not play tricks with a poor simple boy, but let me go down again, if you please, to my work.’

‘Indeed, Mr Whittington,’ said the merchant, ‘we are all quite in earnest with you, and I most heartily rejoice in the news that these gentlemen have brought you; for the captain has sold your cat to the King of Barbary, and brought you in return for her more riches than I possess in the whole world; and I wish you may long enjoy them!’

Mr Fitzwarren then told the men to open the great treasure they had brought with them, and said: ‘Mr Whittington has nothing to do but to put it in some place of safety.’

Poor Dick hardly, knew how to behave himself for joy. He begged his master to take what part of it he pleased, since he owed it all to his kindness. ‘No, no,’ answered Mr Fitzwarren, ‘this is all your own; and I have no doubt but you will use it well.’

Dick next asked his mistress, and then Miss Alice, to accept a part of his good fortune; but they would not, and at the same time told him they felt great joy at his good success. But this poor fellow was too kind-hearted to keep it all to himself; so he made a present to the captain, the mate, and the rest of Mr Fitzwarren’s servants; and even to the ill-natured old cook.

After this Mr Fitzwarren advised him to send for a proper tailor, and get himself dressed like a gentleman; and told him he was welcome to live in his house till he could provide himself with a better.

When Whittington’s face was washed, his hair curled, his hat cocked, and he was dressed in a nice suit of clothes, he was as handsome and genteel as any young man who visited at Mr Fitzwarren’s; so that Miss Alice, who had once been so kind to him, and thought of him with pity, now looked upon him as fit to be her sweetheart; and the more so, no doubt, because Whittington was now always thinking what he could do to oblige her, and making her the prettiest presents that could be.

Mr Fitzwarren soon saw their love for each other, and proposed to join them in marriage; and to this they both readily agreed. A day for the wedding was soon fixed; and they were attended to church by the Lord Mayor, the court of aldermen, the sheriffs, and a great number of the richest merchants in London, whom they afterwards treated with a very rich feast.

History tells us that Mr Whittington and his lady lived in great splendour, and were very happy. They had several children. He was Sheriff of London, thrice Lord Mayor, and received the honour of knighthood by Henry V.

Download The Gingerbread Man (Click to Play, Right Click to Save As)

This is the fast paced tale of the Gingerbread Man who leapt out of the oven and ran away. In the 1890 version by Joseph Jacobs, the hero was Johnny-Cake, but we have changed him to the more familiar Gingerbread Man. You will find the full text of the Gingerbread Man here.

Duration 8 Minutes. Read by Natasha.

From The Brown Fairy Book of Andrew Lang

Download Kissa the Cat
Or use the play button to listen now.

Once upon a time there lived a queen who had a beautiful cat, the colour of smoke, with china-blue eyes, which she was very fond of. The cat was constantly with her, and ran after her wherever she went, and even sat up proudly by her side when she drove out in her fine glass coach.

‘Oh, pussy,’ said the queen one day, ‘you are happier than I am! For you have a dear kitten just like yourself, and I have nobody to play with but you.’

‘Don’t cry,’ answered the cat, laying her paw on her mistress’s arm. ‘Crying never does any good. I will see what can be done.’

—

This charming story about a princess who is rescued by a magical cat originally came from Denmark – but as it happens, “kissa” is Russian for pussycat. Look out for the scary giant. We’ve adapted it slightly, as the original had some rather blood thirsty bits.

Read by Natasha Lee Lewis. Duration 15 minutes.

If you like this story, you will also enjoy The Cat’s Elopment

Kissa the Cat

Hello Everybody, my name’s natasha, and his Royal Highness Princee Bertie the frog has comanded me to tell you the Storynory of Kissa the Cat.

Now Prince Bertie the Frog is not too sure whether he likes cats. As you know, before Bertie became a frog, he used to be a handsome prince. The palace cat used to sit on his lap and purr, and in those days, he liked cats very much. But now he’s a frog, he has a rather different point of view. If you are frog, and you see a cat who is much bigger than you and has very sharp claws, you can get a little bit frightened, especially when it’s in the habbit of creeping silently up behind various birds and creatures, and jumping on them. But this Storynory is about a very nice cat called Kissa, and it’s from Andrew Lang’s Brown Fairy Book.

Once upon a time there lived a queen who had a beautiful cat, the colour of smoke, with china-blue eyes, which she was very fond of. The cat was constantly with her, and ran after her wherever she went, and even sat up proudly by her side when she drove out in her fine glass coach.

‘Oh, pussy,’ said the queen one day, ‘you are happier than I am! For you have a dear kitten just like yourself, and I have nobody to play with but you.’

‘Don’t cry,’ answered the cat, laying her paw on her mistress’s arm. ‘Crying never does any good. I will see what can be done.’

The cat was as good as her word. As soon as she returned from her drive she trotted off to the forest to consult a fairy who dwelt there, and very soon after the queen had a little girl, who seemed made out of snow and sunbeams, and she called her Princess Ingibjorg. The queen was delighted, and soon the baby began to take notice of Kissa the kitten as she jumped about the room, and would not go to sleep at all unless the kitten lay curled up beside her.

Two or three months went by, and though the baby was still a baby, the kitten was fast becoming a cat, and one evening when, as usual, the nurse came to look for her, to put her in the baby’s cot, she was nowhere to be found. What a hunt there was for that kitten, to be sure! The servants, each anxious to find her, as the queen was certain to reward the lucky man, searched in the most impossible places. Boxes were opened that would hardly have held the kitten’s paw; books were taken from bookshelves, lest the kitten should have got behind them, drawers were pulled out, for perhaps the kitten might have got shut in. But it was all no use. The kitten had plainly run away, and nobody could tell if it would ever choose to come back.

Years passed away, and one day, when the princess was playing ball in the garden, she happened to throw her ball farther than usual, and it fell into a clump of rose-bushes. The princess of course ran after it at once, and she was stooping down to feel if it was hidden in the long grass, when she heard a voice calling her: ‘Ingibjorg! Ingibjorg!’ it said, ‘have you forgotten me? I am Kisa, your sister!’

‘But I never had a sister,’ answered Ingibjorg, very much puzzled; for she knew nothing of what had taken place so long ago. How could she suspect that a little kitten was practically her sister?

‘Don’t you remember how I always slept in your cot beside you, and how you cried till I came? But girls have no memories at all! Why, I could find my way straight up to that cot this moment, if I was once inside the palace.’

‘Why did you go away then?’ asked the princess. But before Kisa could answer, the little Princess Ingibjorg’s attendents arrived breathless on the scene, and were so horrified at the sight of a strange cat, that Kisa plunged into the bushes and went back to the forest.

The princess was angry with her ladies-in-waiting for frightening away her old playfellow, and told the queen who came to her room every evening to bid her good-night.

‘Yes, it is quite true what Kissa said,’ answered the queen; ‘I should have liked to see her again. Perhaps, some day, she will return, and then you must bring her to me.’

Next morning it was very hot, and the princess declared that she must go and play in the forest, where it was always cool, under the big shady trees. As usual, her attendants let her do anything she pleased, and sitting down on a mossy bank where a little stream tinkled by, soon fell sound asleep. The princess saw with delight that they would pay no heed to her, and wandered on and on, expecting every moment to see some fairies dancing round a ring, or some little brown elves peeping at her from behind a tree. But, alas! she met none of these; instead, a horrible giant came out of his cave and ordered her to follow him. The princess felt much afraid, as he was so big and ugly, and began to be sorry that she had not stayed within reach of help; but as there was no use in disobeying the giant, she walked meekly behind.

They went a long way, and Princess Ingibjorg grew very tired, and at length began to cry.

‘I don’t like girls who make horrid noises,’ said the giant, turning round. ‘But if you want to cry, I will give you something to cry for.’ And
with those words he started to draw his axe from his belt. Ingibjorg became very frightened and started to run. Fortunately, although the giant was very big,and had long legs, he was also very fat, and he couldn’t run quickly. As Ingibjorg escaped, she lost her slippers that were embroidered with gold thread and studded with precious stones – for they were special slippers made for a princess. On she ran in her bare feet, which soon became very cut and full of thorns. She did not look round to see the giant stopping down to pick up her expensive slippers.

She ran into a part of the Forrest that was too thick and overgrown for him to find her, and finally she got away from that wicked giant, who would surely have killed her with his axe if he could have done. But now she was quite lost. How long it was since she had set out in the morning she could not tell–it seemed years to her. Her legs were cut by brambles and thorns and a wasp had stung her on the nose. Eventually she lay down and started to cry. Darkness came over, and she was shivering all night with cold. When she woke up, she was hungry and thirsty. “Now I shall surely die!” she said to herself.

When the sun was still high in the heavens when she heard the sound of wheels, and then, with a great effort, for her throat was parched with fright and pain, she gave a shout.

‘I am coming!’ was the answer; and in another moment a cart made its way through the trees, driven by Kisa, who used her tail as a whip to urge the horse to go faster. Directly Kissa saw Ingibjorg lying there, she jumped quickly down, and lifting the girl carefully in her two front paws, laid her upon some soft hay, and drove back to her own little hut.

In the corner of the room was a pile of cushions, and these Kissa arranged as a bed. Princess Ingibjorg, who by this time was nearly fainting from all she had gone through, drank greedily some milk, and then sank back on the cushions while Kisa fetched some dried herbs from a cupboard, soaked them in warm water and tended to her cuts and bruises. The pain vanished at once, and Ingibjorg looked up and smiled at Kisa.

‘You will go to sleep now,’ said the cat, ‘for you have a fever and must rest. You will not mind if I leave you for a little while. I will lock the door, and no one can hurt you.’ But before she had finished the princess was asleep. Then Kisa got into the cart, which was standing at the door, and catching up the reins, drove straight to the giant’s cave.

Leaving her cart behind some trees, Kissa crept gently up to the open door, and, crouching down, listened to what the giant was telling his wife, who was at supper with him.

‘The first day that I can spare I shall just go back and kill her,’ he said; ‘it would never do for people in the forest to know that a mere girl can defy me!’ And he and his wife were so busy calling Ingibjorg all sorts of names for her bad behaviour, that they never noticed Kisa stealing into a dark corner, and upsetting a whole bag of salt into the great pot before the fire. By-andBye The giant and giantess had the salty soup for their supper.

‘Dear me, how thirsty I am!’ cried the giant after supper. For the salt had made him so.

‘So am I,’ answered the wife. ‘I do wish I had not taken that last spoonful of broth; I am sure something was wrong with it.’

‘If I don’t get some water I shall die,’ went on the giant. And rushing out of the cave, followed by his wife, he ran down the path which led to the river.

Then Kissa entered the hut, and lost no time in searching every hole till she came upon some grass, under which Ingibjorg’s gold embroiderd slippers wer hidden, and putting them in her cart, drove back again to her own hut.

Ingibjorg was thankful to see her, for she had lain, too frightened to sleep, trembling at every noise.

‘Oh, is it you?’ she cried joyfully, as Kisa turned the key. And the cat came in, holding up the two neat litlte slippers.

“Now if you are feeling better, it is time to take you home,” said Kissa.

‘when the cat drove the cart up to the palace gate, lashing the horse furiously with her tail, and the king and queen saw their lost daughter sitting beside her, they declared that no reward could be too great for the person who had brought her out of the giant’s hands.

‘We will talk about that by-and-by,’ said the cat, as she made her best bow, and turned her horse’s head.

The princess was very unhappy when Kisa left her without even bidding her farewell. She would neither eat nor drink, nor take any notice of all the beautiful dresses her parents bought for her.

‘She will die, unless we can make her laugh,’ one whispered to the other. ‘Is there anything in the world that we have left untried?’

‘Nothing except marriage,’ answered the king. And he invited all the handsomest young men he could think of to the palace, and bade the princess choose a husband from among them.

It took her some time to decide which she admired the most, but at last she fixed upon a young prince, whose eyes were like the pools in the forest, and his hair of bright gold. The king and the queen were greatly pleased, as the young man was the son of a neighbouring king, and they gave orders that a splendid feast should be got ready.

When the marriage was over, Kissa suddenly stood before them, and Ingibjorg rushed forward and clasped her in her arms.

‘I have come to claim my reward,’ said the cat. ‘Let me sleep for this night at the foot of your bed.’

‘Is that all?’ asked Ingibjorg, much disappointed.

‘It is enough,’ answered the cat. And when the morning dawned, it was no cat that lay upon the bed, but a beautiful princess.

‘My mother and I were both put under an evil spell by a spiteful fairy,’ said she, ‘we could not free ourselves till we had done some kindly deed that had never been wrought before. My mother died without ever finding a chance of doing anything new, but I saved you from the forrest, and now am turned back into a princess.

Then they were all more delighted than before, and the princess lived in the court until she, too, married.

And that’s the Storynory, of Kissa the cat, who was really a princess. Bertie the frog likes this storynory because he once once a handsome prince. He hopes to turn back into a Royal person one day, just like Kissa the cat did. You can help him by listening to all his free Stories which you can find on Storynory.com. While you are there, you can also drop into Bertie’s online shop.

I’ll be back with another Storynory soon. Until then, from me, Natasha, Bye Bye!

A Story from Japan Download the audio here

This Japanese story is a hidden gem from The Pink Fairy Book of Andrew Lang (1901). The tale came to Lang via a German collection of stories. It is not only terribly romantic, but contains some exciting fights between cat and dog, and cat and serpent.

In the Pond Life introduction, we discover what Bertie the frog learned at school when he was a handsome prince.

Read by Natasha Lee-Lewis. Duration 12 minutes.

Once upon a time there lived a cat of marvelous beauty, with a skin as soft and shining as silk, and wise green eyes, that could see even in the dark. His name was Gon, and he belonged to a music teacher, who was so fond and proud of him that he would not have parted with him for anything in the world.

Now not far from the music master’s house there dwelt a lady who possessed a most lovely little pussy cat called Koma. She was such a little dear altogether, and blinked her eyes so daintily, and ate her supper so tidily, and when she had finished she licked her pink nose so delicately with her little tongue, that her mistress was never tired of saying, ‘Koma, Koma, what should I do without you?’

Well, it happened one day that these two, when out for an evening stroll, met under a cherry tree, and in one moment fell madly in love with each other. Gon had long felt that it was time for him to find a wife, for all the ladies in the neighbourhood paid him so much attention that it made him quite shy; but he was not easy to please, and did not care about any of them. Now, before he had time to think, Cupid had entangled him in his net, and he was filled with love towards Koma. She fully returned his passion, but, like a woman, she saw the difficulties in the way, and consulted sadly with Gon as to the means of overcoming them. Gon entreated his master to set matters right by buying Koma, but her mistress would not part from her. Then the music master was asked to sell Gon to the lady, but he declined to listen to any such suggestion, so everything remained as before.

At length the love of the couple grew to such a pitch that they determined to please themselves, and to seek their fortunes together. So one moonlight night they stole away, and ventured out into an unknown world. All day long they marched bravely on through the sunshine, till they had left their homes far behind them, and towards evening they found themselves in a large park. The wanderers by this time were very hot and tired, and the grass looked very soft and inviting, and the trees cast cool deep shadows, when suddenly an ogre appeared in this Paradise, in the shape of a big, big dog! He came springing towards them showing all his teeth, and Koma shrieked, and rushed up a cherry tree. Gon, however, stood his ground boldly, and prepared to give battle, for he felt that Koma’s eyes were upon him, and that he must not run away. But, alas! his courage would have availed him nothing had his enemy once touched him, for he was large and powerful, and very fierce. From her perch in the tree Koma saw it all, and screamed with all her might, hoping that some one would hear, and come to help. Luckily a servant of the princess to whom the park belonged was walking by, and he drove off the dog, and picking up the trembling Gon in his arms, carried him to his mistress.

So poor little Koma was left alone, while Gon was borne away full of trouble, not in the least knowing what to do. Even the attention paid him by the princess, who was delighted with his beauty and pretty ways, did not console him, but there was no use in fighting against fate, and he could only wait and see what would turn up.

The princess, Gon’s new mistress, was so good and kind that everybody loved her, and she would have led a happy life, had it not been for a serpent who had fallen in love with her, and was constantly annoying her by his presence. Her servants had orders to drive him away as often as he appeared; but as they were careless, and the serpent very sly, it sometimes happened that he was able to slip past them, and to frighten the princess by appearing before her. One day she was seated in her room, playing on her favourite musical instrument, when she felt something gliding up her sash, and saw her enemy making his way to kiss her cheek. She shrieked and threw herself backwards, and Gon, who had been curled up on a stool at her feet, understood her terror, and with one bound seized the snake by his neck. He gave him one bite and one shake, and flung him on the ground, where he lay, never to worry the princess any more. Then she took Gon in her arms, and praised and caressed him, and saw that he had the nicest bits to eat, and the softest mats to lie on; and he would have had nothing in the world to wish for if only he could have seen Koma again.

Time passed on, and one morning Gon lay before the house door, basking in the sun. He looked lazily at the world stretched out before him, and saw in the distance a big ruffian of a cat teasing and ill-treating quite a little one. He jumped up, full of rage, and chased away the big cat, and then he turned to comfort the little one, when his heart nearly burst with joy to find that it was Koma. At first Koma did not know him again, he had grown so large and stately; but when it dawned upon her who it was, her happiness knew no bounds. And they rubbed their heads and their noses again and again, while their purring might have been heard a mile off.

Paw in paw they appeared before the princess, and told her the story of their life and its sorrows. The princess wept for sympathy, and promised that they should never more be parted, but should live with her to the end of their days. By-and-bye the princess herself got married, and brought a prince to dwell in the palace in the park. And she told him all about her two cats, and how brave Gon had been, and how he had delivered her from her enemy the serpent.

And when the prince heard, he swore they should never leave them, but should go with the princess wherever she went. So it all fell out as the princess wished; and Gon and Koma had many children, and so had the princess, and they all played together, and were friends to the end of their lives.

Adapted from The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang

Down load this classic audio fairytale

Once upon a time there was a rich farmer woman who had three sons. One day they all three told their mother they wanted to get married. To which their mother replied:

Do as you like, but see that you choose good wives; and, to make certain of this, take with you these three balls of wool, and give it to the girls to knit. Whoever knits the best pair of socks will be my favourite daughter-in-law.

This is one of Prince Bertie’s favourite stories. It is about an extremely clever girl-frog who who helps out out a young man in distress.

Hi everybody. My name is Natasha, and I’ve been commanded by His Royal Highnesss, Prince Bertie the Frog, to tell you a Storynory.

Did you know that prince Bertie lives in a pond not a palace? His friend Tim the Tadpole asked him yesterday, “Prince Bertie, when I grow up, will I be a green frog just like you? Do you know what Bertie told him? (Pause) Really, you haven’t heard what Prince Bertie said to Tim the Tadpole? Well Prince Bertie said to Tim the Tadpole, “If you want to grow up to be a nice green frog like me, you have to eat up lots and lots of green, green slime , little Tim.”

If enough Children keep listening to Prince Bertie’s stories, Tim the Tadpole will eat up his slime and grow into a handsome frog just like Bertie. So keep listening,
– and tell all your friends to tune into to Storynory.com as well.

Now.. do you really, really want me to read a Storynory? (Pause) Did you say yes? . Alright, listen quietly, and I will tell you the Storynory of The Frog from The Violet Fairy Book by Andrew Lang.

THE FROG
Once upon a time there was a rich farmer woman who had three sons. One day they all three told their mother they wanted to get married. To which their mother replied: ‘Do as you like, but see that you choose good wives; and, to make certain of this, take with you these three balls of wool, and give it to the girls to knit. Whoever knits the best pair of socks will be my favourite daughter-in-law.’
Now the two eldest sons had already chosen their wives; so they took the wool from their mother, and carried it off with them, to have it knitted as she had said. But the youngest son was puzzled what to do with his wool, as he knew no girl (never having spoken to any) to whom he could give it to be knitted. He wandered here and there, asking the girls that he met if they would undertake the job for him, but at the sight of the wool they laughed in his face and teased him. Then in despair he left their villages, and went out into the country, and, sitting on the bank of a pond began to cry bitterly.
Suddenly there was a noise close beside him, and a frog jumped out of the water on to the bank and asked him why he was crying. The young man told her of his trouble, and how his brothers would bring home beautifully knitted pairs of socks from their promised wives, but that no one would knit his socks for him.
Then the frog answered: ‘Do not weep because of that; give me the wool, and I will knit it for you.’ And, having said this, she took it out of his hand, and flopped back into the water, and the youth went back, not knowing what would happen next.
In a short time the two elder brothers came home, and their mother asked to see the pairs of socks that had been knitted out of the wool that she had given them. They all three left the room; and in a few minutes the two eldest returned, bringing with them the socks that had been knitted by their chosen wives. But the youngest brother was greatly troubled, for he had nothing to show. Sadly he took himself to the pond, and sitting down on the bank, began to weep.
Flop! and the frog appeared out of the water close beside him.
‘Take this,’ she said; ‘here are the socks that I have knitted for you.’
You may imagine how delighted the young man was. She put the socks into his hands, and he took it straight back to his mother, who was so pleased with it that she declared she had never seen such beautiful warm woolen socks, and that they were much nicer than the socks that the two elder brothers had brought home.
Then she turned to her sons and said: ‘But this is not enough, my sons, I must have another proof as to what sort of wives you have chosen. In the house there are three puppies. Each of you take one, and give it to the woman whom you mean to bring home as your wife. She must train it and bring it up. Whichever dog turns out the best, its mistress will be my favourite daughter-in-law.’
So the young men set out on their different ways, each taking a puppy with him. The youngest, not knowing where to go, returned to the pond, sat down once more on the bank, and began to weep.
Flop! and close beside him, he saw the frog. ‘Why are you weeping?’ she said. Then he told her his difficulty, and that he did not know to whom he should take the puppy.
‘Give it to me,’ she said, ‘and I will bring it up for you.’ And, seeing that the youth hesitated, she took the little creature out of his arms, and disappeared with it into the pond.
The weeks and months passed, till one day the mother said she would like to see how the dogs had been trained by her future daughters-in-law. The two eldest sons departed, and returned shortly, leading with them two great guard dogs, who growled so fiercely, and looked so savage, that the mere sight of them made the mother tremble with fear.
The youngest son, as was his way, went to the pond, and called on the frog to come to his rescue.
In a minute she was at his side, bringing with her the most lovely little dog, which she put into his arms. It sat up and begged with its paws, and went through the prettiest tricks, and was almost human in the way it understood and did what it was told.
In high spirits the youth carried it off to his mother. As soon as she saw it, she exclaimed: ‘This is the most beautiful little dog I have ever seen. You are indeed fortunate, my son; you have won a pearl of a wife.’
Then, turning to the others, she said: ‘Here are three shirts; take them to your chosen wives. Whoever sews the best will be my favourite daughter-in-law.’
So the young men set out once more; and again, this time, the work of the frog was much the best and the neatest.
This time the mother said: ‘Now that I am content with the tests I gave, I want you to go and fetch home your girls, and I will prepare the wedding-feast.’
You may imagine what the youngest brother felt on hearing these words. Where would he find a girl to marry? Would the frog be able to help him in this new difficulty? With bowed head, and feeling very sad, he sat down on the edge of the pond.
Flop! and once more the faithful frog was beside him.
‘What is troubling you so much?’ she asked him, and then the youth told her everything.
‘Will you take me for a wife?’ she asked.
‘What should I do with you as a wife,’ he replied, wondering at her strange proposal.
‘Once more, will you have me or will you not?’ she said.
‘I will neither have you, nor will I refuse you,’ said he.
At this the frog disappeared; and the next minute the youth beheld a lovely little cart, drawn by two tiny ponies, standing on the road. The frog was holding the carriage door open for him to step in.
‘Come with me,’ she said. And he got up and followed her into the cart.
As they drove along the road they met three witches; the first of them was blind, the second was hunchbacked, and the third had a large thorn in her throat. When the three witches beheld the cart, with the frog seated pompously among the cushions, they broke into such fits of laughter that the eyelids of the blind one burst open, and she recovered her sight; the hunchback rolled about on the ground in merriment till her back became straight, and in a roar of laughter the thorn fell out of the throat of the third witch. Their first thought was to reward the frog, who had accidentally cured their misfortunes.
The first witch waved her magic wand over the frog, and changed her into the loveliest girl that had ever been seen. The second witch waved the wand over the tiny cart and ponies, and they were turned into a beautiful large carriage with prancing horses, and a coachman on the seat. The third witch gave the girl a magic purse, filled with money. Having done this, the witches disappeared, and the youth with his lovely bride drove to his mother’s home. The mother was delighted to see her youngest son’s good fortune. A beautiful house was built for them; she was the favourite daughter-in-law; everything went well with them, and they lived happily ever after.
Ending

And that was the Storynory of The Frog from Andrew Lang’s Violet book of Fairy Tales. It’s one of Prince Bertie’s favourite stories. Bertie especially likes Storynories about frogs. Do you?

Prince Bertie would like to meet all his new friends at his lovely green and purple website. You can see what he looks like there. So drop by at Storynory.com.

I’ll be telling you another Storynory soon, so keep coming back for more stories. For now, from me, Natasha. Bye Bye.