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LBLS-Startpiece

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.”

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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?”

LBLS-Main THE KING SAID, “WILL YOU 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.

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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.

LBLS-03 End Piece

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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

From the ebook THE VILLAGE OF HIDE AND SEEK

By B. T. WILSON

TThe hot sun was now standing directly over the tops of the trees, and, as the moving shade had left the Vagabond with a part of his circle of children out in its broiling rays, he was glad indeed to pause with his story while they all rose at his request and formed a new circle farther in under the sheltering branches. Four of the boys leaped from the ground and scampered away to bring the water as the Vagabond had requested.

When the new circle was formed, one of the little girls,—a sweet-faced darling of not more than five years, pushed herself away from the others, and with a feeling of pride, took a seat by the side of the Vagabond, where she sat looking into his face quite anxious for him to go on with his story.

The boys were not slow in returning from the well; and in order to assure themselves that the water would reach the parched lips of their companions fresh and cool, they had unbound the old oaken bucket from the well pole and were bearing it along, dripping full, between them. The water soon arrived, and by order of the Vagabond it was passed around, he not even forgetting to first wait upon the little lady who, so honored, sat proudly by his side. When they were all comfortably seated in the shade at last, it was thus he continued his interesting tale:

“After the two children had eaten all they possibly could, just as many of you drank all the water you possibly could, the dwarfs and brownies came hurrying up the stairs and were not long in removing the dishes and table. The brownies, in a most winning manner, insisted upon their eating more, for there was enough left to feed a dozen hungry children, but they were forced to reluctantly decline.

“The sun-tanned brownie, who removed the dishes from in front of Maud, looked too funny for anything with his long-peaked cap set aslant on his little round head and roguishly pushed over to one side. On his face appeared a broad grin as he took the dishes under his arm, and gazing intently toward little Maud, said in a shy, half-whisper though sufficiently loud for her to hear: “Pretty girl!”

“Then without waiting a reply, he made one wild, hilarious plunge, dishes and all, down the balustrade. Nor did he stop when he struck the ground, but hurried away toward the mountain, halting only for a second when half way up its steep side to wave her an affectionate adieu with his funny round cap. Thus waving he passed from sight under the sheltering trees that grew along the mountain way, while the children turned to view other parts of the beautiful valley.

“‘What broad, golden stream is that, Aunt Twaddles?’ inquired little Arthur, as he pointed toward the Work Shops of Santa Claus.

“‘Aunt Twaddles’ glanced up as he spoke and looking in the direction of the golden stream, she replied.

“‘That, my darlings, is Taffy River.’

“‘Taffy River!’ exclaimed the children in one breath. Then Arthur, in an excited tone, continued: ‘You don’t mean to tell us, Aunt Twaddles, that taffy flows in a river like that!’

“The children stood anxiously awaiting her reply.

“‘Yes, darlings! Oh, yes!’ she replied. ‘Taffy River gets its start up at Honey Springs in the lower end of Ice Cream Valley and flows, as you see, down between Ginger Bread Hills and Cake Mountain, then on past the Work Shops of Santa Claus and empties into Lake Fudge, over beyond the Pop-Corn Fields where you see the reindeer.’

“Arthur was so bewildered he did not know what to say; while little Maud stood with her mouth open in such a manner that she was quite amusing to look upon. Suddenly she exclaimed:

“‘Mercy, Aunt Twaddles! Is that white field pop corn? Why I thought it was snow!’

“‘No! no! my children!’ smilingly exclaimed the good lady. ‘That field is all pop corn. You see,’ she continued, ‘we never have either rain or snow here. Not a particle of water is ever permitted to fall in this enchanted valley, not even a drop of dew; for if it should, though it was only a tear, something dreadful would surely happen. This is not our will, but the will of Heaven; and if you watch, you will see for yourselves.’

“‘Aunt Twaddles’ touched another button in the arm of her golden chair and gazed calmly over the valley.

“While they were waiting for something unusual to happen, little Maud roused from a spell of deep thought and inquired:

“‘Aunt Twaddles, does any of Taffy River ever empty into the Shenandoah?’ And her eyes sparkled at the thought.

“‘Ah, no, darling,’ replied the generous old woman with a knowing smile. ‘When the children of the earth are good, Santa Claus takes most of it on his journey at Christmas time; but when they are naughty it overflows Lake Fudge and is wasted among the surrounding hills.’

“‘Aunt Twaddles’ seemed somewhat impatient and again pressing the button with a firm hand, the children were greatly surprised to behold a heavy, dark cloud rising in the west. Leaping upward it came flying angrily over the summit of Ginger Bread Hills; then dashing furiously against the tall sides of Cake Mountain it rolled upward with the sound of deep, muttering thunder and spread over the entire sky.

“The wind came howling bitterly down the beautiful valley with a sudden dash and roar, and again turned the sign above the factory of Santa Claus out of reasonable position.

“Strong trees bent low before the breath of the on-coming storm, while the entire end of Beauty Valley grew suddenly dark. All the dolls of the village hastened into their play-houses as fast as their little legs could carry them. Santa Claus came out of his factory and, arching his eyebrows with the palms of his wide-open hands, cast a sweeping glance over the threatening sky and then disappeared within.

“The doors throughout this great factory were suddenly closed. Windows came down with a bang. Louder and louder the shrill wind howled with a wintry wail and in a few moments a blinding snowstorm of pop corn buried the distant field in a spotless coverlet of white.

“‘Aunt Twaddles’ touched another button in the arm of her chair. Suddenly the clouds melted away into a veil of thin mist and again the sun poured down its wealth of golden glory.

“Up went the windows in the factory of Santa Claus. The dolls rushed out of their play-houses and danced once more upon the green, while a mighty host of brownies rushed from the factories into the field and began to gather basket after basket of pop corn to be made into pop-corn balls on the banks of Taffy River.

“‘Aunt Twaddles’ sat back in her chair, smiling silently, for she had watched the expressions upon the faces of the children during the wonderful storm.

“The scene was indeed most marvelous and it was a long time before either of the children ventured to say a word, for the wonderful workings of nature, all under control of the little, shining buttons, mystified them beyond utterance.

“Suddenly they beheld a little brownie hurrying from the factory toward the throne. ‘Aunt Twaddles’ arose when she saw him coming.

“‘Here comes a messenger,’ she said, ‘and something must be wrong.’

“In another second he bounded up the onyx steps and soon afterward stood trembling before them.

“‘What is it, Spit?’ inquired ‘Aunt Twaddles’ as she gazed down upon him.

“‘Spit,’ for that was the name of the brownie, looked up into her face as he stood awed by her presence.

“‘Twaddles!’ he exclaimed, ‘during the storm the lightning struck a wooden doll in the village and hurt it mighty badly.’

“As this sad bit of news fell on the ears of ‘Aunt Twaddles,’ she dismissed the brownie with a wave of her hand and sank back in her chair, and the children could see that she was much distressed.

“‘Come! come!’ she said to herself at last, ‘we must not grieve so much over accidents, for they are often the will of Heaven.’

“She arose and greeted the children with a glad smile.

“‘Aunt Twaddles,’ inquired Arthur, ‘does Santa Claus always live here?’

“Instantly, ‘Aunt Twaddles’ stepped back from the children and paused. She stood near the steps of the golden throne, her hand resting upon the white polished onyx post that ornamented the end of the beautiful balustrade, and turning to them, she said:

“‘Yes, children, Santa Claus always lives here and I am his sister.’

“As she spoke the last word, a magical change came over her entire features.

“Instead of the fat, flabby, emotionless countenance the children had long known and loved, each careworn line withered instantly away, and in place came the bloom and smile of eternal youth and beauty; while the ungainly and ponderous weight that had so encumbered her journeys, disappeared all in a moment, until she now looked more like a beautiful fairy than the dear, good ‘Aunt Twaddles’ of old.

“All the odd, ill-fitting garments, with the long, heavy skirt to which they had so firmly clung for their lives while climbing the face of the cliff, were changed before their very eyes into raiments of rich lace and gold; and she stood before them in her true character, no longer ‘Aunt Twaddles,’ the herb woman, but the fairy sister of Santa Claus, more lovely by far than any doll they had ever beheld.

illus115 All the odd, ill-fitting garments were changed into raiments of gold
“All the odd, ill-fitting garments were changed into raiments of gold.”

“‘You see me now, darlings, as no mortal eye has ever beheld me. Amid the common walks of life, when gathering wintergreen, spices, and herbs on the mountain, with which to flavor the candy for Santa Claus, I am awkward and ugly, fat, and ungainly, and I care not; for the rarest of womanly beauty on earth lies not in the looks, but the heart. But here, in this haven of blissful repose, you now behold me as I truly am;—not Aunt Twaddles, the herb woman, but Twaddles, the Queen of the Dolls, and the ruler who reigns over the Village of Hide and Seek.’

“Awed beyond measure and wrapt in admiring silence, the poor children stood trembling in the presence of the queen. Nor could they reconcile themselves to the sudden change, for ‘Aunt Twaddles,’ the herb woman, had always been so good and kind to them.

“Little Maud suddenly sank to her knees on the throne, and cried aloud in a pitiful voice:

“‘Oh, dear queen, how beautiful you are! But please be your dear self again, for I love the Aunt Twaddles who has always been so good to me.’

“Before she could finish her heart-rending plea, the beautiful Doll Queen folded her to her bosom and covered the face of the child with sweet, motherly caresses.

“‘Come! come!’ she said softly, at last. ‘We will make a tour of Beauty Valley, or, as the dolls of the village all love to call it, ‘The Land of Santa Claus.’ And she unclasped Maud from her arms.

“The Queen touched a bell on a silver stand and at the faint sound a beautiful white-winged dove, with a pale blue ribbon about its snowy neck, came flying from a near-by olive tree and lit upon the edge of the throne before them.

“The children, much interested in the unusual sight, drew back toward the opposite side of the throne as if fearing they might frighten the bird away; but the Queen, smiling so sweetly that they felt like falling to their knees and worshipping her, turned to them as she exclaimed:

“‘Have no fear, my darlings, for you cannot frighten it away. This bird is my private messenger that always finds Kimbo when I want him.’

“The Queen waved her hands with a graceful, easy motion, and the dove rose in the air on its snowy wings. Three times it circled above the throne, and then took its course toward the buildings of Santa Claus and passed out of sight.

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ISBN: 9788834175361

URL/DownLoad Link: https://bit.ly/2VAo8Mn

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TAGS: Village of Hide and Seek, fairy tales, fairytales, folklore, myths, legends, children’s stories, children’s books, children’s fantasy, fables, bedtime stories, wonderland, parents with children, parents to be, grandparents, mothers with children, mothers to be, nursery school, king, kindergarten, kindergarden, Arthur, Aunt Twaddles, beautiful, Claus, dolls, Dreams, face, far, golden, great, Island, journey, magical, Maud, merry, happy, , mountain, old, path, palace, prince, princess, pennyroyal, Queen, River, Santa Claus,, stream, sweet, tall, throne, Vagabond, valley, village, water, wild, well, wonderland

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
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

One nice, warm sunny day, when it was too hot to stay inside the den among the rocks, the nice bears were all out in front, lying in the shade of the woods.

“Oh, my! How hot it is!” cried Dido, and he opened his mouth wide, and let his red tongue hang out, for animals, such as dogs and bears, cool themselves off that way. You must have seen your dog, when he had run fast, after a cat, perhaps, open his mouth and breathe fast, with his tongue hanging out.

“Let’s go swimming in the lake again!” cried Dido to his brothers.

“All right,” agreed Gruffo.

“We’ll all go,” said Mr. Bear. “Come along.”

So off through the woods walked the family of bears toward the cool, blue lake, high up in the mountains. Dido could hardly wait to get there, and as soon as he saw, through the trees, the sparkle of the water he began to run. He ran so fast that he stumbled over a stone, and fell down.

“Oh, Dido!” called his mother. “You must be more careful. You must not go so fast. Something will happen to you some day if you do not look where you are going.”

“I didn’t hurt myself that time, anyhow,” answered Dido, as he got up, and jumped into the lake. There he swam about, as did the father and mother bear, and the other two cubs. Dido splashed his brothers every time he came near them, but they did not mind, for he was such a cute little fellow and he meant no harm. Besides, it was so warm that the more water they had on them the better Gruffo and Muffo liked it.

“It makes me hungry to go in swimming,” said Mrs. Bear. “I am going off in the woods to look for some berries.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Dido. “For I am hungry myself.”

Soon Mrs. Bear found a bush on which were growing some big red berries. These she pulled off with her forepaws, which were, to her, almost like our hands are to us, and the mother bear filled her mouth with the fruit. Dido did the same, and soon he was not as hungry as he had been. Then along came Mr. Bear, with Gruffo and Muffo, and they, too, ate the red berries off the bushes.

All at once Mr. Bear stopped eating, and, lifting his nose up in the air, sniffed very hard two or three times.

“What is the matter?” asked Mrs. Bear quickly.

“I think I smell a man,” answered the papa bear. “See if you can smell anything.”

Mrs. Bear lifted her nose up in the air and she, also, sniffed. Bears, you know, as do most wild animals, use their noses as much as they do their eyes to tell when there is danger. And to wild animals a man, nearly always, means danger. If you were out in the woods, and could not see any one, you could not tell, just by smelling the air, whether some person was near you or not—that is, unless they had a lot of perfume on them, and then, if the wind was blowing toward you, why you might smell that.

But bears have much better noses for smelling than have we, and they can smell a man in the woods even if he has no cologne on him.

“Sniff! Sniff!” went Mr. Bear.

“Sniff! Sniff!” went Mrs. Bear.

“Yes, I can surely smell a man,” the papa bear said in a low voice. “It is the first time I have known them to come around here.”

“And so can I smell a man,” added Mrs. Bear. “We had better get away from here.”

Then the bears ran off through the woods to their den. For though big bears are very strong and can fight well, they would much rather run away from a man than fight him, unless they find they cannot get away. For when a man goes into the woods where there are bears he nearly always has a gun with him, and while bears know they are stronger than a man they also know that a gun is stronger than a dozen bears.

When Dido, with his brothers and father and mother, got back to the den in the rocks, the little bear cub saw that his father was worried about something. Mr. Bear walked up and down in front of the pile of rocks, sniffing the air, and looking on all sides.

“What is the matter, Papa?” asked Dido, in bear talk, of course.

“It’s that man I smelled in the woods,” said Mr. Bear. “I fear he may find our den.”

“Well, what if he does?” asked Dido.

“Then it would not be safe for us to stay here,” answered Mrs. Bear. “If men are coming into our woods it is time for us to go away.”

“What! go away from our nice den?” asked Gruffo. For though the den was only a hole in the rocks, with a pile of leaves in one corner for a bed, still, to the bears, it was as much a home as your house is to you.

“Yes, it would not be safe to stay while men are around,” said Mr. Bear. “That is the first time I have ever smelled them in our woods. Though a friend of mine, Mr. Lion, who lives farther down the mountain, said he has often seen men near his cave. Once some men on elephants chased him, but he got away.”

“Have you ever seen a man?” asked Dido of his father.

“Oh, yes, often, but always afar off. And the men did not see me.”

“What does a man look like?” asked Dido, for he had never seen any, though he had heard of them.

“A man is a queer creature,” said Mr. Bear. “He walks up on his hind feet, as we do sometimes, but when he walks on his four feet he can only go slowly, like a baby. Even you could run away from a man on his four feet, Dido.”

“How queer!” said the little bear.

“But don’t try it,” said Mrs. Bear quickly. “Keep away from men, Dido, for they might shoot you with one of their guns.”

“What else is a man like?” the little bear asked.

“Well, he has a skin that he can take off and put on again,” said Mr. Bear.

“Oh, how very funny!” cried Dido. “Take off his skin? I should think it would hurt!”

“It doesn’t seem to,” said the papa bear. “I don’t understand how they do it, but they do.”

Of course what Mr. Bear thought was skin was a man’s clothes, which he takes off and puts on again. But though bears are very wise and smart in their own way, they don’t know much about men, except to be afraid of them.

“I do not like it that men are coming up in our woods,” said Mr. Bear. “It means danger. So be careful, Dido, and you, too, Gruffo and Muffo, that you do not go too far away. Perhaps the man has come up here to set a trap to catch us.”

“What is a trap?” asked Dido.

“It is something dangerous, to catch bears,” his mother told him. “Some traps are made of iron, and they have sharp teeth in them that catch bears by the leg and hurt very much. Other traps are like a big box, made of logs. If you go in one of these box traps the door will shut and you can not get out.”

“What happens then?” asked Dido.

“Then the man comes and gets you.”

“And what does he do with you?” the little bear cub wanted to know.

“That I cannot say,” answered Mrs. Bear. “Perhaps your father knows.”

Mr. Bear shook his head.

“All I know,” he answered, “is that the man takes you away if he finds you in his trap. But where he takes you I do not know, for I was never caught, and I hope I never will be.”

“I hope so, too,” said Dido, and he sniffed the air to see if he could smell the man, but he could not.

For a number of days after that the bears did not go far from their den in the rocks. They were afraid the man might shoot them.

But, after a while, all the berries and sweet roots close by had been eaten, and the bears had to go farther off. Besides, they wanted some fish, and they must go to the lake or river to catch them. So after Mr. Bear had carefully sniffed the air, and had not smelled the man-smell, the bears started off through the woods again to get something to eat.

Dido ran here and there, sometimes on ahead and again he would stay behind, slipping up back of his brothers to tickle them. Oh, but Dido was a jolly little bear, always looking for fun.

The bears found some more red berries, and a few blue ones, and some sweet roots, and they also caught some fish, which made a good dinner for them. Then they went swimming in the lake again before going back to their den.

In the afternoon, when Gruffo was asleep in the shade, Dido went softly up to him, and poured a paw full of water in his brother’s ear.

“Wuff! Ouch! What’s that? Is it raining?” cried Gruffo, suddenly waking up. Then he saw that Dido had played the trick on him, and he ran after the little bear. But Dido climbed up a tree to get away, and he did it in such a funny way, his little short tail going around like a Fourth of July pinwheel, that Gruffo had to sit down and laugh.

“Oh, you are such a funny cut-up bear!” he said, laughing harder than ever, and when a bear laughs he can’t very well climb a tree.

“Come on down, I won’t do anything to you,” said Gruffo, after a while, so Dido came down. Then he turned somersaults on a pile of soft leaves. Next he stood on his hind legs, and began striking at a swinging branch of a tree with his front paws, as you have seen a kitten play with a cord of a window curtain.

Dido climed a tree to escape
But Dido climbed up a tree to get away.

 “Dido is getting to be a real cute little cub,” said Mrs. Bear.

Then, all of a sudden, Dido struck at the tree branch, but he did not hit it and he fell over backward.

“Look out!” cried Mr. Bear. “You’ll hurt yourself, Dido.”

“I didn’t hurt myself that time,” said the little bear, “for I fell on some soft, green moss.”

“Well, there will not always be moss for you to fall on,” his mother said. “So look out.”

One day, when Mr. Bear came back from a long trip in the woods, he brought some wild honey in his paws. And oh! how good it tasted to Dido and Gruffo and Muffo!

“Show me where the bee-tree is, Papa,” begged Dido. “I want to get some more honey.”

“It is too far away,” answered the papa bear. “Besides, I saw a man in the woods as I was getting the honey out of a hollow tree. It would not be safe for you to go near it when men are around.”

But the honey tasted so good to Dido that the little bear cub made up his mind that he simply must have more.

“I know what I’ll do,” he said to himself. “When none of the others are watching me I am going off by myself in the woods and look for a bee-tree to get some honey. I don’t believe there’s any danger.”

So about a week after this, one day, Dido saw his two brothers asleep outside the den. Mr. Bear had gone off to the lake, perhaps to catch some fish, and Mrs. Bear was in the den, stirring up the leaves that made the bed, so it would be softer to lie on.

“Now’s my chance,” thought Dido, in the way bears have of thinking. “I’ll just slip off in the woods by myself, and find a honey-tree. I’ll bring some honey home, too,” said Dido, for he was not a selfish little bear.

Walking softly, so as not to awaken his brothers, and so his mother, making the leaf-bed in the den, would not know what he was doing, away slipped Dido to the woods.

He shuffled along, now and then finding some red berries to eat, or a bit of sweet root, and every little while he would lift his nose up in the air, as he had seen his father do, and sniff to see if he could smell a man-smell.

“But I don’t smell any,” said Dido. “I guess it’s all right.”

Then, all at once, he felt a little wind blowing toward him, and on the breeze came the nicest smell.

“Oh, it’s honey!” cried Dido. “It’s honey! I have found the honey-tree! Oh, how glad I am!”

He hurried on through the woods, coming nearer and nearer to the honey smell all the while, until, after a bit, he saw in among the trees something square, like a box, made of little logs piled together. And inside the thing like a box was a pile of honey. Dido could see it and smell it. But he did not rush up in a great hurry.

“That doesn’t look like the honey-tree father told about,” the little bear cub thought. “He said he had to climb a tree. This honey is low down. Still it is honey, so this must be a honey-tree, and if it is low down so much the better for me. I will not have to climb.”

Dido sniffed the air again. He wanted to see if there was a man-smell about. But all he could smell was the honey.

“Oh, I guess it’s all right,” said the bear cub. “I’m so hungry for that honey I can’t wait! Here I go!”

Dido fairly ran into the box and began to eat the honey on the floor of it. But, no sooner had he taken a bite, than suddenly a queer thing happened.

Bang! went something behind Dido, and when he looked around he saw that the box was shut tight. A sliding door had fallen down and poor Dido was a prisoner……

DTDB-Cover

From: “Dido the Dancing Bear”

ISBN: 9788835390220

DOWNLOAD LINK: https://bit.ly/2xmFe8a

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QUEEN ZIXI of IX
More adventures in the Land of Oz
L. Frank Baum author of the Wizard of Oz

“Queen Zixi of Ix” was written by L Frank Baum, author of the many books in the Oz series, and illustrated by F Richardson with 86 exquisitely detailed drawings.

Our story starts on the night of a full moon – the fairies ruled by Queen Lurlene are dancing in the Forest of Burzee. Lurlene calls a halt to it, for “one may grow weary even of merrymaking”. To divert themselves, another fairy recommends that they make something they can imbue with fairy magic. After several ideas are considered and rejected, the fairies decide to make a magic cloak that can grant its wearer one wish. The fairy who proposed it, Espa, and Queen Lulea agree that such a cloak will benefit mortals greatly. However, its wish-granting power cannot be used if the cloak is stolen from its previous wearer. After the fairies finish the golden cloak, Ereol arrives from the kingdom of Noland whose king has just died. On the advice of the Man in the Moon, Ereol is dispatched to Noland to give the magic cloak to the first unhappy person she meets.

 

The deed done the fairies return to Fairyland and they watch and wait to see what happens – and some amazing things do happen which lead to adventures across Noland and Ix. Some amazing things are wished for and given with the magic cloak. But what are they. Well you’ll have to download and read this book for yourself.

 

At some point word of the cloak spreads afar and Queen Zixi hears of it and desires it for herself. Then somone steals the cloak and a search is otganised. During the search for the cloak many journeys have to be taken to find it. But just what happens on these journeys. Well, you’ll just have to download the book to find out for yourself.

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10% of the profit from the sale of this book will be donated to charity.

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ANDREW LANG’s “BROWN FAIRY BOOK”
with 32 illustrated fairy tales and children’s stories
from his collection of Many Coloured Fairy Books

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This is the 10th Fairy Book of Many Colours compiled and edited by Andrew Lang with many exquisite illustrations by H. J. Ford. The stories in all the books are borrowed from many countries – Australia, North America, Southern Africa, New Caledonia located in the southwest Pacific Ocean, New Zealand, Kenya, Persia, Northern Europe, India, South and North America and beyond.

However much the nations in these lands differ about trifles, they all agree in liking fairy tales. Herein you will find 32 illustrated fairy tales like What the Rose did to the Cypress, The Bunyip, The Story of the Yara, The Cunning Hare, The Turtle and his Bride, The Sacred Milk of Koumongoé, The Wicked Wolverine, The Elf Maiden, Asmund and Signy and many, many more.

 

TABLE of CONTENTS

What the Rose did to the Cypress

Ball-Carrier and the Bad One

How Ball-Carrier finished his Task

The Bunyip

Father Grumbler

The Story of the Yara

The Cunning Hare

The Turtle and his Bride

How Geirald the Coward was Punished

Hábogi

How the Little Brother set Free his Big Brothers

The Sacred Milk of Koumongoé

The Wicked Wolverine

The Husband of the Rat’s Daughter

The Mermaid and the Boy

Pivi and Kabo

The Elf Maiden

How Some Wild Animals became Tame Ones

Fortune and the Wood-Cutter

The Enchanted Head

The Sister of the Sun

The Prince and the Three Fates

The Fox and the Lapp

Kisa the Cat

The Lion and the Cat

Which was the Foolishest?

Asmund and Signy

Rübezahl

Story of the King who would be Stronger than Fate

Story of Wali Dâd the Simple-hearted

Tale of a Tortoise and of a Mischievous Monkey

The Knights of the Fish

 

 

10% of the profit from the sale of this book is donated to charities.

 

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Download this ebook from: https://store.streetlib.com/en/anon-e-mouse/the-brown-fairy-book-32-illustrated-folk-and-fairy-tales/

 

Be sure to search our store for the book you want!

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HATFS_front_Cover_A5_Centered

In this volume you will find 20 illustrated children’s stories by the master story-teller Hans Christian Andersen. The Hans Andersen Fairy Tales will be read in schools and homes as long as there are children who love to read. As a story-teller for children the Hans Andersen has no rival in the power to enlist the imagination of children and carry it along natural, healthful lines. The 21 full page illustrations and 20 illustrated story heads by Edna F. Hart give added depth and meaning to the stories.

 

In this volume you will find familiar Andersen stories like:
The Ugly Duckling
The Steadfast Tin Soldier
Little Thumbelina
The Little Match Girl
The Snow Queen
You will also find another 15 less familiar but enchanting stories like:
The Fir Tree
Little Tuk
Little Ida’s Flowers
Sunshine Stories
The Darning-Needle
The Loving Pair
The Leaping Match
The Happy Family
The Greenies
Ole-Luk-Oie, The Dream God
The Money Box
Elder-Tree Mother
The Roses And The Sparrows
The Old House
The Conceited Apple Branch

 

The power of Andersen’s tales to charm and elevate runs like a living thread through whatever he writes. In the two books, the first of which is presented here, they have met the tests and held an undiminishing popularity among the best children’s books. They have set the standard, and their place in permanent literature will grow wider and more secure as time passes. Only a few children’s authors will be ranked among the Immortals, and Hans Andersen is without a doubt one of them.

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Download the book from: https://store.streetlib.com/en/hans-christian-andersen/hans-andersens-tales-vol-1-20-illustrated-childrens-tales/

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#Folklore, #fairytales, #myths, #legends, #childrensstories, #bedtimestories, #fables, #hansChristianAndersen, #HCAndersen, #storyteller, #book #books #bookstagram #bookworm #booklover #bookish #booknerd #bookaddict #bookme #bookshelf #bookaholic #booklove #BookNow #bookphotography #booking #bookstagrammer #booklovers #bookstore #booksofinstagram #bookblogger #bookstagramfeature #booknerdigans #bookquotes #bookcover #bookclub #bookishfeatures #Bookmark #bookshop #AbelaPublishing

BFB_Front_Cover_A5_Centered

ANDREW LANG’s BLUE FAIRY BOOK
37 Illustrated Fairy Tales

Compiled and Edited by Andrew Lang
Illustrated by H. J. Ford

In the Blue Fairy Book you will find a set of 37 illustrated Fairy Tales collected and edited by Andrew Lang who was Britain’s answer to the Grimm brothers. Within you will find perennial favourites like

  • Hansel And Grettel,
  • Little Red Riding Hood,
  • Sleeping Beauty,
  • Beauty And The Beast,
  • Cinderella,
  • Aladdin And The Wonderful Lamp

and many more.

You will also find some of the tales are less well-known, even so, they are equally fascinating and entertaining all the same.

As to whether there are really any fairies or not, is a difficult question to answer.  The Editor never saw any himself, but he knew several people who have seen them-in the Scottish Highlands – and heard their music.  So, if ever you are ever near Nether Lochaber (16km/10m south west of Fort William), be sure to go to the Fairy Hill, and you may hear the music yourself, as grown-up people have often done. The only stipulation is that you must go on a fine day, but remember this poem as the little folk may ask you to recite it to gain entry to their magical kingdom.

Books Yellow, Red, and Green and Blue,
All true, or just as good as true,
And here’s the Blue Book just for YOU!

Hard is the path from A to Z,
And puzzling to a curly head,
Yet leads to Books—Green, Yellow and Red.

For every child should understand
That letters from the first were planned
To guide us into Fairy Land.

So labour at your Alphabet,
For by that learning shall you get
To lands where Fairies may be met.

And going where this pathway goes,
You too, at last, may find, who knows?
The Garden of the Singing Rose.

Download Link: https://store.streetlib.com/en/anon-e-mouse/andrew-langs-blue-fairy-book-37-illustrated-fairy-tales/

10% of the Publisher’s profit from the sale of this book will be donated to Charities.

YESTERDAYS BOOKS raising funds for TODAYS CHARITIES

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HASTAGS: #Folklore, #fairytales, #fables, #myths, #legends, #childrensstories, #bedtime, #childrensBooks, #Bluefairybook, #path, #curlyhead, #letters, #FairyLand, #learn, #Alphabet, #Fairies, #pathway, #Garden, #SingingRose, #bronzering, #prince, #hyacinth, #princess, #eastofthesun, #westofthemoon, #yellowdwarf, #redridinghood, #sleepingbeauty, #woods, #Cinderella, #glassslipper, #Aladdin, #wonderfullamp, #youth, #fear, #rumpelstiltzkin, #beauty, #beast, #mastermaid, #sea, #salt, #mastercat, #pussinboots, #Felicia, #potofpinks, #whitecat, #water #lily, #goldspinners, #terriblehead, #prettygoldilocks, #Whittington, #cat, #wonderfulsheep, #littlethumb, #tomthumb, alibaba, #fortythieves, #Hansel, #Grettel, #snowwhite, #rosered, #goosegirl, #toads, #diamonds, #princedarling, #bluebeard, #trustyjohn, #brave, #littletailor, #voyagetoLilliput, #glasshill, #princeahmed, #paribanou, #jack, #giantkiller, #blackbull, #norroway, #redetin,

RSB_Front_Cover-w-border

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

FFMAL_Front_Cover

Folklore, Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends
from Around the World

Compiled by John Halsted

In this FREE EBOOK you will find 15 stories which have been selected from the books that make up the series “Fairy Tales, Folklore, Myths and Legends from Around the World”

Herein you will find stories from ancient Celtic England, Wales, Ireland and Scotland. As well as Roma and Gypsy stories which have travelled across Europe from the Black Sea region. There are also stories from the Zulus and Bushmen of South Africa, to the Orient, the Silk Route, the Vikings, the Red Indians of North America and beyond.
The books in the series are rare and out of print books and have been republished as part of a Social Enterprise project where the main aim is to give a large portion of the profits to charity. In fact 10% of the profit from each book sold is donated to charities that specialise in educational scholarships for the underprivileged; and the beneficiaries of these scholarships are spread around the globe.

We also encourage you to pass this FREE eBook on to anyone and everyone you know, especially teachers, parents with young children, expecting parents and first-time grandparents.

The stories in this volume are:
The Lost Message
The Further Adventures Of Eut-Le-Ten
The Vampire
The Slippers Of The Twelve Princesses
King O’toole And St. Kevin
The Young King Of Easaidh Ruadh.
The Story Of Gelert
Tom Tit Tot
Lawkamercyme
The Perfidious Vizier
The Magic Of The Old Monk
Gulambara And Sulambara
The Rabbi’s Bogey-Man
The Story Of The Boy And The Old Woman, And How The Wasp Got His Small Waist
Twas The Night Before Christmas

So we invite to download this FREE ebook, and then sit back and be prepared to laugh or be amazed at the antics and outcomes of these magical stories.
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Download this FREE book via our StreetLib store at: https://store.streetlib.com/en/various/folklore-fairy-tales-myths-legends-and-other-childrens-stories-from-around-the-world/

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