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From
GRIMMS FAIRY TALES (Illustrated edition)
ISBN: 9788828338611
Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, “Since our mother died, we have had no happiness; our stepmother beats us every day, and if we come near her, she kicks us away with her foot. Our meals are the hard crusts of bread that are left over. The little dog under the table is better off, for she often throws it a nice bit. May Heaven pity us! If our mother only knew! Come, we will go forth together into the wide world.”
They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony places; and when it rained the little sister said, “Heaven and our hearts are weeping together.”
In the evening they came to a large forest, and they were so weary with sorrow and hunger and the long walk, that they lay down in a hollow tree and fell asleep.
The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high and shone down hot into the tree. Then the little brother said, “Little Sister, I am thirsty. If I knew of a little brook I would go and take a drink. I think I hear one running.” The little brother got up and took the little sister by the hand, and they set off to find the brook.
But the wicked stepmother was a Witch, and had seen how the two children had gone away. She had crept after them, as Witches do creep, and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest.
Now, when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the stones, the little brother was going to drink out of it, but the little sister heard how it said as it ran:
“Who drinks of me, a Tiger be! Who drinks of me, a Tiger be!”
Then the little sister cried, “Pray, dear little Brother, do not drink, or you will become a wild beast, and tear me to pieces.”
The little brother did not drink, although he was so thirsty, but said, “I will wait for the next spring.”
When they came to the next brook, the little sister heard this say:
“Who drinks of me, a wild Wolf be! Who drinks of me, a wild Wolf be!”
Then the little sister cried out, “Pray, dear little Brother, do not drink, or you will become a Wolf, and devour me.”
The little brother did not drink, and said, “I will wait until we come to the next spring, but then I must drink, say what you like; for my thirst is too great.”
And when they came to the third brook, the little sister heard how it said as it ran:
“Who drinks of me, a Roebuck be! Who drinks of me, a Roebuck be!”
The little sister said, “Oh, I pray you, dear little Brother, do not drink, or you will become a Roe, and run away from me.”
But the little brother had knelt by the brook, and had bent down and drunk some of the water. And as soon as the first drops touched his lips, he lay there a young Roe.
And now the little sister wept over her poor bewitched little brother, and the little Roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at last the girl said, “Be quiet, dear little Roe, I will never, never leave you.”
Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the Roe’s neck, and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. With this she tied the little animal and led it on; and she walked deeper and deeper into the forest.
And when they had gone a very long way, they came to a little house. The girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, “We can stay here and live.”
Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the Roe. Every morning she went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender grass for the Roe, who ate out of her hand, and was content and played round about her. In the evening, when the little sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head upon the Roe’s back: that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it. And if only the little brother had had his human form, it would have been a delightful life.
For some time, they were alone like this in the wilderness. But it happened that the King of the country held a great hunt in the forest. Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs, and the merry shouts of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the Roe heard all, and was only too anxious to be there.
“Oh,” said he to his little sister, “let me be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any longer;” and he begged so much that at last she agreed.
“But,” said she to him, “come back to me in the evening. I must shut my door for fear of the rough huntsmen, so knock and say, ‘My little Sister, let me in!’ that I may know you. And if you do not say that, I shall not open the door.”
Then the young Roe sprang away; so happy was he and so merry in the open air.
The King and the huntsmen saw the pretty creature, and started after him. But they could not catch him, and when they thought that they surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and was gone.
When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, “My little Sister, let me in.” Then the door was opened for him, and he jumped in, and rested himself the whole night through upon his soft bed.
The next day, the hunt went on afresh, and when the Roe again heard the bugle-horn, and the ho! ho! of the huntsmen, he had no peace, but said, “Sister, let me out, I must be off.”
His sister opened the door for him, and said, “But you must be here again in the evening and say your password.”
When the King and his huntsmen again saw the young Roe with the golden collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick and nimble for them. This went on for the whole day, but by evening the huntsmen had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a little in the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a hunter crept after him to the cottage and heard how he said, “My little Sister, let me in,” and saw that the door was opened for him, and was shut again at once.
The huntsman took notice of it all, and went to the King and told him what he had seen and heard. Then the King said, “To-morrow we will hunt once more.”
The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she saw that her little Roe was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid herbs on the wound, and said, “Go to your bed, dear Roe, that you may get well again.”
But the wound was so slight that the Roe, next morning, did not feel it any more. And when he again heard the sport outside, he said, “I cannot bear it, I must be there. They shall not find it so easy to catch me!”
The little sister cried, and said, “This time they will kill you, and here am I alone in the forest, and forsaken by all the world. I will not let you out.”
“Then you will have me die of grief,” answered the Roe. “When I hear the bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of my skin.”
Then the little sister could not do otherwise, but opened the door for him with a heavy heart, and the Roe, full of health and joy, bounded away into the forest.
When the King saw him, he said to his huntsman, “Now chase him all day long till nightfall, but take care that no one does him any harm.”
As soon as the sun had set, the King said to the huntsmen, “Now come and show me the cottage in the wood;” and when he was at the door, he knocked and called out, “Dear little Sister, let me in.”
Then the door opened, and the King walked in, and there stood a maiden more lovely than any he had ever seen. The maiden was frightened when she saw, not her little Roe, but a man with a golden crown upon his head. But the King looked kindly at her, stretched out his hand, and said:
“Will you go with me to my palace and be my dear wife?”
THE KING SAID, “WILL YOU BE MY DEAR WIFE?”
“Yes, indeed,” answered the maiden, “but the little Roe must go with me. I cannot leave him.”
The King said, “He shall stay with you as long as you live, and shall want nothing.”
Just then he came running in, and the little sister again tied him with the cord of rushes, took it in her own hand, and went away with the King from the cottage.
The King took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried her to his palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp. She was now the Queen, and they lived for a long time happily together. The Roe was tended and cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden.
But the wicked Witch, because of whom the children had gone out into the world, thought all the time that the little sister had been torn to pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the little brother had been shot for a Roe by the huntsmen. Now when she heard that they were so happy, and so well off, envy and hatred rose in her heart and left her no peace, and she thought of nothing but how she could bring them again to misfortune.
Her own daughter, who was as ugly as night, and had only one eye, grumbled at her and said, “A Queen! that ought to have been my luck.”
“Only be quiet,” answered the old woman, and comforted her by saying, “when the time comes I shall be ready.”
As time went on, the Queen had a pretty little boy. It happened that the King was out hunting; so the old Witch took the form of the chambermaid, went into the room where the Queen lay, and said to her, “Come, the bath is ready. It will do you good, and give you fresh strength. Make haste before it gets cold.”
The daughter also was close by; so they carried the weak Queen into the bathroom, and put her into the bath. Then they shut the door and ran away. But in the bathroom they had made a fire of such deadly heat, that the beautiful young Queen was soon suffocated.
When this was done, the old woman took her daughter, put a nightcap on her head, and laid her in bed in place of the Queen. She gave her too the shape and the look of the Queen, only she could not make good the lost eye. But, in order that the King might not see it, she was to lie on the side on which she had no eye.
In the evening, when he came home and heard that he had a son, he was heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to see how she was. But the old woman quickly called out, “For your life leave the curtains closed. The Queen ought not to see the light yet, and must have rest.”
The King went away, and did not find out that a false Queen was lying in the bed.
But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw the door open and the true Queen walk in. She took the child out of the cradle, laid it on her arm and nursed it. Then she shook up its pillow, laid the child down again, and covered it with the little quilt. And she did not forget the Roe, but went into the corner where he lay, and stroked his back. Then she went quite silently out of the door again.
The next morning, the nurse asked the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during the night, but they answered, “No, we have seen no one.”
She came thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse always saw her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it.
When some time had passed in this manner, the Queen began to speak in the night, and said:
“How fares my child, how fares my Roe? Twice shall I come, then never moe!”
The nurse did not answer, but when the Queen had gone again, went to the King and told him all.
The King said, “Ah, heavens! what is this? To-morrow night I will watch by the child.”
In the evening he went into the nursery, and at midnight the Queen again appeared, and said:
“How fares my child, how fares my Roe? Once shall I come, then never moe!”
And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she disappeared. The King dared not speak to her, but on the next night he watched again. Then she said:
“How fares my child, How fares my Roe? This time I come, then never moe!”
At that the King could not restrain himself. He sprang toward her, and said, “You can be none other than my dear wife.”
She answered, “Yes, I am your dear wife,” and at the same moment she received life again, and by God’s grace became fresh, rosy, and full of health.
Then she told the King the evil deed which the wicked Witch and her daughter had been guilty of toward her. The King ordered both to be led before the judge, and judgment was delivered against them. The daughter was taken into the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild beasts, but the Witch was cast into the fire and miserably burnt.
And as soon as she was burnt the Roe changed his shape, and received his human form again. So the little sister and little brother lived happily together all their lives.
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From GRIMMS FAIRY STORIES
ISBN: 9788828338611
DOWNLOAD LINK: https://bit.ly/2ykGU33
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KEYWORDS/TAGS: Grimms Fairy Stories, fairy tales, folklore, myths, legends, children’s stories, childrens stories, bygone era, fairydom, fairy land, classic stories, children’s bedtime stories, happy place, happiness, Goose, Girl, Little Brother, Little Sister, Hansel, Grethel, Grettel, Shiver, Dummling, Three Feathers, Snow White, Catherine, Frederick, Valiant, Little Tailor, Little Red Cap, Golden Goose, Bearskin, Cinderella, Faithful John, Water Of Life, Thumbling, Briar Rose, Six Swans, Rapunzel, Mother Holle, Frog Prince, Travels, Tom Thumb, Snow White, Rose Red, Three Little Men, Wood, Rumpelstiltskin, Little One-Eye, Two-Eyes, Three-Eyes
By R. G. Anderson.
Illustrations in colour By Dorothy Hope Smith.
16 Illustrated Bed-time Stories for Children
Marmaduke was sitting on the fence. He wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, just looking around. Jehosophat called to him from the barnyard,–
“Come’n an’ play ‘I spy.'”
But Marmaduke only grumbled,–
“Don’t want to.”
“Well, let’s play ‘Cross Tag’ then,” Jehosophat suggested.
“Don’t want to,” repeated his brother again, not very politely.
Jehosophat thought for a moment, then he suggested something worth-while:
“I’ll tell you what, let’s play ‘Duck-on-the-Rock.'”
Now as every boy in the world–at least in America–knows, that is a wonderful game, but Marmaduke only said very crossly,–
“I don’t want to play any of your ol’ games.” Now when Marmaduke acted that way there must have been something the matter. Perhaps he had gobbled down his oatmeal too fast–in great big gulps–when he should have let the Thirty White Horses “champ, champ, champ,” all those oats. They were cooked oats, but then the Thirty White Horses, unlike Teddy and Hal and ole Methusaleh, prefer cooked oats to raw.
Perhaps he had eaten a green apple. Sometimes he did that, and the tart juice puckered his mouth all up, and–what was worse–puckered his stomach all up, too.
Any way, he felt tired and out-of-sorts; tired of his toys, tired of all the games, even such nice ones as “Duck-on-the-rock” and “Red Rover.”
There was nothing to do but sit on the fence.
Still, the world looked pretty nice from up there. It always looked more interesting from a high place, and sometimes it gave you an excited feeling. Of course, the big elm was a better perch, or the roof of the barn, and Marmaduke often wondered what it would be like to see the world from a big balloon, but the fence was good enough. It curved up over a little hill, and he could see lots of the world from there.
He looked over towards the West, where the Sun marched into his barn every night. Fatty Hamm declared that the Sun kept a garage behind that hill, but Marmaduke insisted it was a barn, for he liked horses best, and the Sun must drive horses. There was a real hill there, not little like the one where he sat on the fence, but a big one, ‘most as big as a mountain, Marmaduke thought. Sometimes it was green, and sometimes grey or blue, and once or twice he had seen it almost as purple as a pansy.
But it was Fall now, and the hill had turned brown. Over it he could see little figures moving. He looked at them very carefully, with one eye shut to see them the better. Then he decided that the bigger ones were men on horses, the little ones dogs. They all looked tiny because they were so far away.
As they came nearer and the sun shone on them, he was pretty sure the men had red coats. Could they be soldiers?
Just then the Toyman came by, with coils of wire and clippers in his hand. He was on his way to mend the fence in the North Pasture.
“‘Llo Toyman!” said Marmaduke. “Howdy, little fellow!” replied the Toyman, “what are you doing there? Settin’ on the top of the world and enjoyin’ yourself?”
“I was wondering what those men over there were doing.” And the boy waved his hand towards the little black figures on the hill.
“Why, that’s the hunt,” explained the Toyman. “The rich folks, having nothing better to do, are killin’ time.”
Marmaduke was puzzled.
“Are they really hunting Time?” he asked. “I thought maybe they were hunting lions or tigers.”
“No, not today,” the Toyman responded, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but they’re only after Reddy.”
“Reddy Toms?” the little boy exclaimed. “Why, whatever did he do?”
Now Reddy Toms was a boy in his own class, and you could always tell him a long way off because his head was covered with red hair as thick as a thatched roof, and his face was spotted all over, like a snake’s, with freckles.
However, the Toyman said it was all a mistake.
“No, not that tad,” he explained, “it’s Reddy Fox they’re after.”
“What!” exclaimed Marmaduke. “Does it take all those big men to hunt one little fox?”
“It seems so, son,” the Toyman returned, “but that’s the way of the world.”
“Well, I think it’s mean,” insisted Marmaduke. “Those men are nothing’ but–but–dumbbells!”
The Toyman threw back his head and laughed. That was a new expression to him, but it was a perfectly good one. You see, the big boys in school used it when they thought anyone was particularly stupid or mean. But the Toyman must have understood it anyway, for he went on,–
“That’s my sentiments exactly. I don’t suppose they mean to be cruel, but they don’t give little Reddy half a chance–and he’s so small! Now if it was lions or tigers, as you suggest, why, that would be different.”
“You bet it would!” Marmaduke replied. “I just wish it was.” Now, of course, he should have said “were,” as the teacher in the Red Schoolhouse was forever telling him, but a little boy can’t always remember correct English when a hunt is coming so close.
“Just set tight, boy, and you’ll see their red coats soon.”
And, waving his clippers, the Toyman went on his way to the North Pasture.
But Marmaduke didn’t need any advice. He had spotted those red coats already. They were much nearer now, for they rode very fast. Already the horses were leaping the fence of the Miller Farm, and the dogs were crisscrossing over the field, making lots of letter W’s as they ran–hundreds of them, Marmaduke was sure. And they followed something–something so small he could hardly see what it was. But he guessed it must be Reddy.
So many fences they leaped, and so many stone walls! Now they were near the Brook, and yes, he could see the red coats, very bright and plain now.
And then he spied Reddy. His coat wasn’t as gay as those the men wore. Theirs were bright like cherries, and his was the color of chestnuts. It seemed such a shame to want his poor little coat when the men had such nice ones themselves. “Cracky!” he exclaimed. One of the “ole hunters” had fallen in the Brook. And Marmaduke hoped that red coat would get soaked and soaked and run like the stockings Mother had bought from the pedlar. And he hoped that “ole hunter” would get wet to the skin, and shiver and shiver, and have to call in the doctor who’d prescribe the very worst medicine there was in the world. It would serve that “ole hunter” right if he’d almost die. But Marmaduke hoped the poor horse wouldn’t break his leg. It wasn’t the horses’ fault they were chasing Reddy.
Now the hunters were lost in Jake Miller’s Woods. All he could see were patches of red, here and there, in the bushes, but he heard the deep voices of the dogs, all the time, calling and calling.
Then all-of-a-sudden something happened. And Marmaduke liked all-of-a-sudden things to happen–they were so exciting.
A little streak of fur, with tail flying behind like a long pretty hat brush, galloped across the Apgar field, then the very field where Marmaduke sat, perched on the fence.
The dogs were right after Reddy, running hard, too, but they were two fields farther back. Reddy, you see, had fooled them in that wood, and he had gotten a good headstart.
My, how Reddy was running!
Marmaduke stood up on the fence and shouted:
He shouted so hard, and waved his hands so excitedly that he tumbled off his perch, and lay still for a second. He was frightened, too, but he forgot all about the bump on his forehead, and picked himself up, and ran after Reddy across the field towards the barnyard, which, fortunately, was just on the other side.
“Ooooooohhhhh!”–a very deep “Oooooohhhh!” came from behind him from the throats of the dogs. They were only one field away now, and it sounded as if they were pretty mad.
Marmaduke stood on the fence and shouted – Hooray! Go it, Reddy!
But Reddy had reached the corner of the field where the blackberry bushes lined the fence. Now usually Reddy would have looked all around those bushes until he found an opening; then he would have stepped daintily through it. But he didn’t do that today, oh no! You see his family has a great reputation for wisdom, and Reddy must have been just as wise as the man in Mother Goose, for he neither stopped nor stayed, but jumped right in those brambles and managed somehow to get through the rails of the fence to the other side. He left part of his pretty red coat in the briars. However, that was better than leaving it all to those dogs who were howling not far behind.
And now the Little Fox found himself near the barn and flew towards it so fast that his legs fairly twinkled as he ran.
The Foolish White Geese were taking their morning waddle, and Reddy ran plump into them. Now there was nothing that he liked better to eat than nice fat goose. Still, he didn’t wait, but left them beating their wings and stretching their long necks to hiss, hiss, hiss, as they scattered in all directions. I guess Reddy wished his legs were as long as their necks.
Now in the old days when rich folks lived in castles and robber knights quarreled and fought every day of the week, there were always places of sanctuary, where any man could be safe from harm. That is just what Reddy saw in front of him, a place of sanctuary for himself.
It was funny, but it had been prepared by little Wienerwurst. And Wienerwurst was really Reddy’s enemy, for all dogs like to chase foxes whenever they get the chance. It was a little hole, just the right size for Wienerwurst, just the right size for Reddy. The little yellow doggie wasn’t there now. He had dug it that morning to catch the big rat hiding somewhere below the floor of the barn. He had started to build a tunnel under the wall, and had been a long time working at it when Mother Green came from the house. She carried a fine large bone, with lots of meat left on it, too. And, of course, when the little dog smelled that bone and meat, much as he liked rats, he just had to leave his work at the tunnel and run straight for the bone, leaving the hole waiting for Reddy.
Straight into it Reddy ran, just as Marmaduke and the big dogs reached the fence and the blackberry bushes, all at the same time. Now Marmaduke could have cried because the hunter dogs would reach the hole before he could get there and cover it up, and they would reach down into that hole and drag Reddy out by his pretty red coat and eat him all up.
But when he stuck his head through the rail he saw help coming. Jehosophat was there and he had heard those bad dogs and seen them, too, coming on with their big mouths open and their tongues hanging out as if they wanted to swallow Reddy down in one gulp. And Jehosophat could see the redcoats on the horses not far away. They had reached the big oak in the field and were coming on very fast.
He looked around. There was the very thing. A nice, broad cover of an egg-crate. It would fit exactly. So, quick as a wink, Jehosophat picked it up and clapped it over the hole. Then he looked around again. It wasn’t quite safe yet. But there was the big rock which they used for “Duck-on-the-rock.” The very thing! It was almost more than he could manage, that rock, but he pulled and he tugged, and he tugged and he pulled, ’til he had it safe on the crate-cover over the hole–and Reddy was saved!
It was just in time, too, for the dogs had come barking and yelping and bellowing, and now all they could do was to sniff, sniff, sniff around that hole.
Then over the fence into the barnyard jumped the horses; and Marmaduke came running up; and the Toyman rushed over from the field; and Father came out of the barn; and Mother flew out of the house; and Rover and Brownie and Wienerwurst raced from the pond, each one to see what all the hullabaloo was about.
What they did see was the two boys standing guard in front of the hole to protect little Reddy, and the big hunter dogs jumping up on them with their paws and growling most terribly. It was a wonder that the boys weren’t frightened enough to run away, but they didn’t. They just stood their ground. Still, they were glad enough to see Father and the Toyman close by.
And now one of the men in redcoats had dismounted from his horse, and Marmaduke called to him,–
“You shan’t touch Reddy, you shan’t!”
He was half crying, too, not for himself, but for Reddy.
The man was taking off his cap. He was very polite, and he bowed to Mother.
“We’ll pay for all damages, Madam, but let us have the brush.”
The boys thought that was funny, calling their mother “madam,” when everybody in the neighborhood called her “Mis’ Green.” And what did he want a brush for? To brush his fine cap and red coat or his shiny boots? Or to wipe up Reddy out of his hole? However, the Toyman was whispering:
“He means Reddy’s tail. That’s what hunters call the brush.”
When Marmaduke heard that, he grabbed tight hold of the Toyman’s hand on one side and of his father’s on the other, and shouted:
“Don’t let them get Reddy!”
But Father was talking to the man. He called him “Mr. Seymour-Frelinghuysen,” and both the boys wondered if all people with fine horses and shiny boots and red coats had to have long, funny-sounding names like that.
“It’s all right about the damages, Mr. Seymour-Frelinghuysen,” Father was saying, “but I guess we won’t give up the fox today.”
And Father smiled down at Marmaduke, and oh, wasn’t that little boy relieved and happy, and his brother, too! As for the Toyman, he had a funny twinkle in his eyes.
Of course, there was a lot of grumbling on the part of the redcoats, and a lot of barking and growling from the big hunter dogs, but the men had to get on their horses and call off their dogs and ride away. “I guess they knew they were in the wrong,” said Jehosophat, after they had tied up Rover and Brownie and Wienerwurst, and taken the stone and board away from Reddy’s hole.
Then they looked in the hole-but no Reddy!
Meanwhile the Toyman had gone into the barn.
“Come here!” he shouted.
So they ran in, and there, in the corner, hidden under the hay was Reddy, all muddy from the brook and torn from the briars. His eyes looked very bright, but they looked pitiful too.
The Toyman put out his hand and stroked his fur. At first Reddy showed his teeth and snapped at the Toyman just like a baby wolf. But that hand came towards him so quietly, and the voice sounded so gentle, that Reddy lay still. You see, the Toyman somehow understood how to treat foxes and all kinds of animals just as well as he did boys, little or big.
“What doesn’t that man know?” Mother had said once, and right she was, too.
It took some time to train Reddy, for, although he was very small, he was very wild. However, the Toyman managed to tame him. Perhaps it was because the Little Lost Fox was wounded and sore and hurt all over. Anyway, he seemed to appreciate what the Toyman did for him, for all he was a little wild child of the fields and the forests.
They built him a house, all for himself, and a fence of wire. It was great fun to see him poking his sharp nose through the holes and stepping around so daintily on his pretty little feet.
He always had such a wise look. In fact, he was too wise altogether, for one day he was gone, through some little hole he had dug under his fence.–And they never saw him again–at least, they haven’t to this day.
At first the three children felt very sad about this, but when the Toyman explained it, they saw how everything was all right.
“You see,” the Toyman said, “he’s happier in the woods and fields than being cooped up here.”
Marmaduke thought about that for a moment.
“Anyway,” he began, “anyway,—-”
“Yes?” said Mother, trying to help him out.
“Anyway, I’m glad we saved him from the ole redcoats,” he finished.
And maybe Reddy will visit them again someday. Stranger things than that have happened. So, who knows…..?
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From: Half-Past Seven Stories by R. G. Anderson. Illustrations in colour By Dorothy Hope Smith.
ISBN: 9788828315827
CLICK HERE to download this story – https://bit.ly/2UFbXPn
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Keywords/Tabs: fairy tales, folklore, myths, legends, children’s stories, children’s stories, bygone era, fairydom, fairy land, classic stories, children’s bedtime stories, happy place, happiness, top of the morning, little lost fox, big bobsled, jolly roger, pirate, blue croaker, bright agate, little gray mig, old woman, lives on the canal, two o’ cat, fairy lamp, animals, birthday party, dr. philemon pipp, patient, medicine man, jehosophat, forgot, piece, ole man, pumpkin, Norway spruce, door, open, hole, ran, runs, to china, peppermint pagoda, took, take, city, Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah, Green, old, uncles, aunts, White House, Green Blinds, Side of the Road, fishing, pond, swim, Toyman, Methusaleh, playmates, friends, feathers, fur, Monday morning, Thursday noon, Saturday night, lessons, lights, fireflies, twinkle, Father, Mother
TIMOTHY BEGAN TO DANCE, THE CABIN ALSO BEGAN TO DANCE, THE TABLE DANCED from the story of NIKITA THE FOOTLESS AND THE TERRIBLE TSAR in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
In an ancient kingdom of Holy Russia there reigned a ruler so fierce that he was known as the Terrible Tsar. Having earned his terrible reputation he took great care not to lose it for it proved very useful to him.
By-and-by the Terrible Tsar made up his mind to marry, and he wrote a proclamation in golden ink on a large piece of crimson velvet, and sent a herald into every town and village to read the announcement, which was to this effect—that whoever should find for him a bride who was ruddier than the sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than snow should be given a reward so great that he would be forced to spend most of his time in computing its value. And so the competition was on. But what sane woman would want to marry such a terrible man?
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Russian fairy tales, folklore, myths and legends, images for children, classic images, children’s imaginations, children’s stories, bygone era, fairydom, fairy land, classic stories, children’s bedtime stories, fables, parents to be, parents be like, fairy tale images, fables, childrens images, images for babies, nursey images, Ilya, Cloudfall, Svyatogor, Nightingale, Robber, Falcon The Hunter, Adventure Of The Burning White Stone, Quiet Dunai, Princess Apraxia, Kiev, Novgorod, Caspian Sea, Nikitich, Marina, Court Of Vladimir, Visitor From India, Glorious, Kasyan, Dream Maiden, Stavr The Noble, Woman’s Wiles, the Golden Horde, Whirlwind The Whistler, Kingdoms Of Copper, Silver, Gold, Vasily The Turbulent, Nikita The Footless, Terrible Tsar, Peerless Beauty, Cake-Baker
THEY PASSED OVER THE BOUNDLESS WHITE PLAIN WHERE AN AGED SAINT WITH FLOWING BEARD STOOD
from the story THE STORY OF KASYAN AND THE DREAM MAIDEN in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
Our story is about a Kasyan who was one of the mighty heroes of Holy Russia, the leader of a band of forty. His bravery was, without equal, who had fought against the accursed Tatars, and had won great renown in battle against infidel hordes; but he had never taken golden crowns nor loved any lady except the Dream Maiden, whose image he kept ever in his golden heart. She had come to him in a dream and that’s where she stayed, in his heart and mind and he resolved to one day seek her out.
His men loved him so dearly that they had pledged not to rob or steal, not to look with love upon the face of any maiden, and not to stain our hands with blood. Part of the pledge was to dress as pilgrims and wear the red poppy and to travel the land in search of Kasyan’s dream maiden.
One day In the open plain near the city of Kiev they met Prince Vladimir out hunting. They called out:“Vladimir, Fair Sun of Kiev, give alms to the wandering pilgrims. Not a pittance but a royal gift will we take from such as you, even a noble benefaction of forty thousand roubles.” Vladimir halted the hunt and addressed the pilgrims, “I have no roubles with me,” said the courteous Prince, “nor can I refresh you as you deserve and as I desire. But go onward to Kiev town to the Princess Apraxia, who in my name will give you food and drink and lodging.”
Onward they went to the palace of Princess Apraxia where they called out to her using the Pilgrims wail. She came to the window and saw the pilgrims but immediately recognised Kasyan, who had appeared to her in a dream…..So what happened to the Kasyan and Princess Apraxia? Well, you’ll have to read the book to find out for yourself!
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THE WHIRLWIND CARRIED AWAY GOLDEN TRESS from the story THE KINGDOMS OF COPPER, SILVER, AND GOLD in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
Our story is about a Tsaritza known as the Golden Tress. She lived in a far-away kingdom and was married to the Great White Tsar. The Golden Kiss was said to be so beautiful that twice each day she caused the sun to blush a rosy red, once in the morning as he rose across the steppe, and once in the evening as he bade farewell to the white world.
Now the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza, Golden Tress, had three sons and one great enemy – Whirlwind the Whistler, whom she feared greatly, because this impetuous foe had vowed with a shriek and a howl to come at sunset and whisk away Golden Tress from the palace.
One evening Golden Tress went out with a company of maidens and nurses to walk in the gardens of the palace, and Whirlwind saw his chance. He rushed down upon the palace garden, blinding the eyes of all so that they could not see what tricks he was playing; and when the maidens and nurses opened their eyes they saw nothing at all and heard nothing at all except a far-off call of distress and a shriek of spiteful fury.
But what happened to the Golden Tress? Well, you’ll have to read the book to find out for yourself!
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THE WATER TSAR DANCES from the story VASILY THE TURBULENT in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
Our story is about Vasily of Novgorod the Great, who found peace had no personal appeal. Where there was fighting to be done there he was at his best and happiest. His father, however, had lived in peace with the men of Novgorod the Great, and had died leaving to his widow and his only son a great store of treasure, a wide palace with a lofty tower, and a cellar full of green wine without price.
Once he was of age, Vasily departed the city of Novgorod the Great in search of adventure and wealth, leaving a grieving mother………
But what happened to Vasily? We’ll you’ll have to read the book to find out for yourself!
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12 Illustrated Children’s Stories from Mother Russia
Retold by RICHARD WILSON, Illustrated by Frank C. Pape
These 12 illustrated children’s stories have been taken from the heart of “Holy Russia.”
From an area that covers the Ukrainian Steppe from Kiev to Novgorod, in the West, to the borders of the Caspian Sea in the East.
Herein are the stories of:
Ilya And Cloudfall,
Ilya Meets Svyatogor And Parts With Him,
Ilya And Nightingale The Robber,
Ilya And Falcon The Hunter,
The Adventure Of The Burning White Stone,
How Quiet Dunai Had Brought The Princess Apraxia To Kiev,
The Story Of Nikitich And Marina,
How The Court Of Vladimir Received A Visitor From India the Glorious,
The Story Of Kasyan And The Dream Maiden,
How Stavr The Noble Was Saved By A Woman’s Wiles the Golden Horde,
Whirlwind The Whistler, Or The Kingdoms Of Copper, Silver, And Gold,
Vasily The Turbulent,
Nikita The Footless and The Terrible Tsar,
Peerless Beauty The Cake-Baker
The stories are further enhanced by the sixteen amazing coloured plates and line illustrations by Frank C. Papé.
We invite you to curl up with this unique sliver of Russian culture not seen in print for over a century; and immerse yourself in the tales and fables of yesteryear.
DOWNLOAD LINK: https://store.streetlib.com/en/anon-e-mouse/the-russian-story-book-12-illustrated-childrens-stories-from-mother-russia/
10% of the profits from the sale of every book are donated to charities.
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TAGS: fairy tales, folklore, myths, legends, children’s stories, children’s stories, bygone era, fairydom, fairy land, classic stories, children’s bedtime stories, fables, Ilya, Cloudfall, Svyatogor, Nightingale, Robber, Falcon The Hunter, Adventure Of The Burning White Stone, Quiet Dunai, Princess Apraxia, Kiev, Novgorod, Caspian Sea, Nikitich, Marina, Court Of Vladimir, Visitor From India, Glorious,Kasyan, Dream Maiden, Stavr The Noble, Woman’s Wiles, the Golden Horde,Whirlwind The Whistler, Kingdoms Of Copper, Silver, Gold, Vasily The Turbulent, Nikita The Footless, Terrible Tsar, Peerless Beauty, Cake-Baker
THE PRINCESS RAN WITH HER FEET ALL BARE OUT INTO THE OPEN
from the story HOW QUIET DUNAI HAD BROUGHT THE PRINCESS APRAXIA TO KIEV in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
Our story is about the tale of the wedding of Vladimir and the Princess Apraxia is one which was often told after a banquet. It goes something like this……
Quiet Dunai was a great traveller, and one who loved to move without turbulence, leisurely and at his chosen ease. From land to land he wandered, both seeing and observing, across the green and open steppe in summer, but resting in the winter within whatever palace of fair white stone he could find a seat in the great corner and hearers who would listen quietly to his traveller’s tales.
At last he came to the kingdom of Lithuania, where he had at one time served the monarch for three years as equerry. One day, the King of Lithuania ordered a great feast be held and invited all his nobles to share his hospitality. The feast was held, and when the guests had eaten well and drunk better, then came the boasting time, when quiet Dunai took his turn with the rest, telling of his far wanderings, of the King’s favour and rewards, and of how the beautiful young Princess Nastasya kept him ever in her golden heart. Then the King grew very angry and cried out: “Ho, there, ye headsmen, seize quiet Dunai and chop off his turbulent head.”
As they passed by the window of the Princess Nastasya, who was asleep, a whisper rustled through her casement and woke her very gently. Not having time to dress, the Princess ran with her feet all bare out into the open corridor, from which she could see the prisoner and his guards. But what happened next? We’ll you’ll have to read the book to find out for yourself!
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HASHTAGS: #fairytales, #folklore, #mythsandlegends, #imagesforchildren, #classicimages, #childrensimaginations, #fairydom, #fairyland, #childrensstories, #parentstobe, #parentsbelike, #fairytaleimages, #fables, #childrensimages, #imagesforbabies, #nurseyimages, #Ilya, #Cloudfall, #Svyatogor, #Nightingale, #Robber, #Falconthehunter, #Adventure, #burningwhitestone, #Quietdunai, #Princessapraxia, #Kiev, #Novgorod, #CaspianSea, #blacksea, #Nikitich, #Marina, #CourtOfVladimir, #Visitor, #India, #Glorious, #Kasyan, #DreamMaiden, #StavrTheNoble, #WomansWiles, #GoldenHorde, #Whirlwind, #Whistler, #KingdomsOfCopper, #Silver, #Gold, #VasilyTheTurbulent, #NikitaTheFootless, #TerribleTsar,
THE BLACK-BROWED MAID STOOD UPON THE BANK
AS THE RED SHIP SAILED AWAY FROM NOVGOROD
from the story VASILY THE TURBULENT in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
Our story is about Vasily of Novgorod the Great, who found peace had no charm for himself. Where there was fighting to be done there he was at his best and happiest. His father, however, had lived in peace with the men of Novgorod the Great, and had died leaving to his widow and his only son a great store of treasure, a wide palace with a lofty tower, and a cellar full of green wine without price.
Once he was of age, Vasily departed the city of Novgorod the Great in search of adventure and wealth, leaving a grieving mother………
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Once you have purchased this most excellent product from our Store, be sure to visit the Folklore and Fairytales book store to search for our Russian tales and stories which we know you and your young ones will enjoy. Click this link to see our collection of Russian Folk and Fairytales http://bit.ly/32tcB4r
HASHTAGS: #fairytales, #folklore, #mythsandlegends, #imagesforchildren, #classicimages, #childrensimaginations, #fairydom, #fairyland, #childrensstories, #parentstobe, #parentsbelike, #fairytaleimages, #fables, #childrensimages, #imagesforbabies, #nurseyimages, #Ilya, #Cloudfall, #Svyatogor, #Nightingale, #Robber, #Falconthehunter, #Adventure, #burningwhitestone, #Quietdunai, #Princessapraxia, #Kiev, #Novgorod, #CaspianSea, #blacksea, #Nikitich, #Marina, #CourtOfVladimir, #Visitor, #India, #Glorious, #Kasyan, #DreamMaiden, #StavrTheNoble, #WomansWiles, #GoldenHorde, #Whirlwind, #Whistler, #KingdomsOfCopper, #Silver, #Gold, #VasilyTheTurbulent, #NikitaTheFootless, #TerribleTsar,
SHE PUT HER GOOD STEED TO THE WALLS AND LEAPT LIGHTLY OVER THEM from the story HOW STAVR THE NOBLE WAS SAVED BY A WOMAN’S WILES in The Russian Story Book collated and retold by Richard Wilson, illustrated by Frank C. Papé.
The story goes thus – Stavr the Noble lived in Chernigof, and when the daughter of Prince Vladimir was honoured at her father’s feast he was among the guests. Despite all his riches and wealth he counted one treasure above all else – his wife Vasilissa.
The table of Prince Validmir was silent at the end of Stavr’s speech until someone said:
“Prince Vladimir, Fair Sun of Kiev, it is not meet to permit this boaster to flout us all. Let him be cast into a cold, dark dungeon, and then let his young wife Vasilissa buy all Kiev town in one market and sell it in the next, let her by her wiles deceive us all, and let her, if she can, drive even Prince Vladimir out of his mind.”
And so the challenge was laid and Lord Stavr was cast into a prison for his wife Vasilissa to rescue by using her wiles.
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Folklore and Fairytales - Free Stories for Children 