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OLD PETERS RUSSIAN TALES

20 illustrated Russian Children’s Stories

There she was beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom - BABA YAGA AND THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE KIND HEART PNG Misery seated himself firmly on his shoulders and pulled out handfuls of his hair - LITTLE MASTER MISERY PNG It caught up the Princesses and carried them into the air - THE THREE MEN OF POWER—EVENING MIDNIGHT AND SUNRISE PNG Head in air and tail in sea fish fish listen to me - THE GOLDEN FISH PNG He stepped on one of its fiery wings and pressed it to the ground - ALENOUSHKA AND HER BROTHER PNG

This is a book of 20 illustrated Russian folk and fairy tales retold for young people and the young at heart. The tales are a good sampling of Slavic folklore. The stories in this book are those that Russian peasants tell their children and each other.

In this volume you will find the stories of Baba Yaga and the Girl with the Kind Heart, The Fool Of The World And The Flying Ship, The Cat Who Became Head-Forester, The Golden Fish, Salt, The Christening In The Village and many more. The seven colour plates and numerous black and white images make the visualisation of the characters, places and events much easier, especially for children.
This is a book was compiled in far away Russia for children. Under the windows of the author’s house, the wavelets of the Volkhov River beat quietly in the dusk. A gold light burns on a timber raft floating down the river. Beyond the river in the blue midsummer twilight are the broad Russian plains and the distant forests of Novgorod. Somewhere in that forest of great trees is the hut where old Peter sits at night and tells these stories to his grandchildren.
In Russia hardly anybody is too old for fairy stories, and the author even heard soldiers on their way to the front during WWI were overheard to be talking of very wise and very beautiful princesses as they drank their tea by the road side. Arthur Ransome, the compiler, knew there to be many more fairy stories in mother Russia than anywhere else in the world. In this book are a few of those he liked best.

NOTE:The editor and compiler spent time in Russia during World War I as a journalist for a radical British newspaper, the Daily News, meeting among others, Lenin and Trotsky and was also known in the London bohemian artistic scene.

Book Link: https://store.streetlib.com/en/anon-e-mouse/old-peters-russian-tales-20-illustrated-russian-childrens-stories/
TAGS: Old Peter’s Russian fairy tales, Folklore, myths, legends, children’s, bedtime, stories, fables, moral, hut in the forest, tale of the silver saucer and the transparent apple, sadko, frost, snow, ice, forest, fool of the world and the flying ship, Novgorod, steppe, plains, baba yaga, little girl with the kind heart, cat who became head-forester, spring in the forest, little daughter of the snow, prince Ivan, witch baby, little sister of the sun, stolen turnips, magic tablecloth, sneezing, goat, wooden whistle, little master misery, chapter of fish, golden fish, who lived in the skull, alenoushka and her brother, fire-bird, horse of power, princess vasilissa, hunter, wife, three men of power, evening, midnight, sunrise, salt, christening in the village

HASHTAGS: #Russianfairytales, #myths, #folklore, #childrensstories, #bedtimestories, #fables, #hut, #forest, #silversaucer, #transparentapple, #sadko, #frost, #snow, #ice, #forest, #slavic, #fool, #flyingship, #Novgorod, #babayaga, #girl, #kindheart, #cat, #headforester, #spring, #littledaughter, #princeivan, #witch, #stolenturnips, #magictablecloth, #goat, #woodenwhistle, #mastermisery, #Magic, #goldenfish, #skull, #alenoushka, #brother, #firebird, #horseofpower, #princessvasilissa, #hunter, #threemen, #power, #evening, #midnight, #sunrise, #salt, #christen, #village

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In Issue 22 of the Baba Indaba Children’s Stories, Baba Indaba narrates the Eastern Jataka (Buddhist) tale of how an elephant, named Girlie Face, overhears the conversation of two men who only have bad intentions in mind. Thinking this is how he is supposed to act he shocks his keepers until a wise man works out what the problem is. Look out for the moral of the tale.
 
INCLUDES LINKS TO DOWNLOAD 8 FREE STORIES
 
Each issue also has a “WHERE IN THE WORLD – LOOK IT UP” section, where young readers are challenged to look up a place on a map somewhere in the world. The place, town or city is relevant to the story.
HINT – use Google maps.
 
Baba Indaba is a fictitious Zulu storyteller who narrates children’s stories from around the world. Baba Indaba translates as “Father of Stories”.
 
ISSN: 2397-9607 Issue 22 (Digital)
 

African Scene

An Excerpt from “Old Hendrik’s Tales” 13 South African Folk Tales

 

The little girl was full of excitement. Driving home with her mother from the “dorp,” she had seen Ou’ Jackalse himself—Mynheer Jackal—slinking across the veldt, and all the tales Old Hendrik had told her about him crowded her mind as she watched him. She could hardly contain herself now, as she stood before the old Hottentot pouring forth the story. There was only one regret in it—“He must have been in some trouble, Ou’ Ta’,” said she; “’cause all the time I watched him his tail was right down. I watched and I watched to see if it wouldn’t stick up, ’cause then I’d know he was thinking of a plan; but it never did.”

Old Hendrik smiled. “So his tail was a-hangin’ an’ a-slinkin’ ahter him, was it? An’ didn’t he look back at you over his shoulder as he went?”

“Yes, he did,” answered Annie, still more eager at finding how well Old Hendrik knew the ways and doings of Ou’ Jackalse. “I kept hoping he was thinking of fetching Ou’ Wolf to work for us, then I could tell Ou’ Wolf not to trust him any more, no matter what he said.”

Old Hendrik’s delight bubbled into a jeering shake of the head and a half laugh of derision over the subject as he repeated the name—“Ou’ Jackalse, hey! Ou’ Jackalse!”

“But you needn’t to be feared he’s a-gun’ to get Ou’ Wolf into much more trouble nowadays, Ainkye,” went on the old Hottentot. “He ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ so many more folks, not since he went to get even wid Young Tink Tinky, de littlest bird on de veldt. Little Missis Tinky got Ou’ Mammy Reyer, de Crane, to he’p her, an’ dat made all de difference. You seen how he slunk his tail along behind him?—well, dat’s why. He’s a-tinkin’ o’ what happened den, an’ he looked at you over his shoulder, wonderin’ all de time weder you’d heerd de tale or not. It happened dis while or two back, an’ since den he ain’t bin near so sa’cy as he used to was.”

“Oh, poor Old Jackalse!” cried the little girl, “what did happen? Do tell me, Ou’ Ta’.”

“Well,” began Old Hendrik, “if ever you sees Ou’ Jackalse tryin’ to fool Ou’ Wolf into trouble agen, you don’t ha’ to say on’y yust one ting. You’s on’y got to ask him how he likes eggs, an’ den see if he don’t turn round an fair slink off wid his tail draggin’. Dat’s where de trouble come in, he would go ahter eggs.

“You ’members me tellin’ you how Young Tink Tinky bested Ou’ Jackalse when de birds wantto choose a King for demselves? Well, Ou’ Jackalse he never forgot dat, an’ he was al’ays a-studyin’ how he’s a-gun’ to get even, but he couldn’t find de way nohow till at last he sees Missis Tinky a-sittin’ on de nest, an’ he knows by dat dere’s eggs dere. ‘Dat’s me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Eggs is de ting I does like—an’ here’s some. Watch me teach dat Young Tinky dis time.’

“Now dere was a t’orn-tree like dis,”—here Old Hendrik indicated the mimosa under which he sat,—“an’ dis t’orn-tree was a-growin close beside de river, an’ a willow-tree dat was bigger yet was a-hangin’ over de t’orn. In dat t’orn-tree Young Tinky build his nest, an ahter de eggs is all laid, an’ his missis is well an’ comfy settled into sittin’ on ’em, Young Tink he offs to look for scoff for hisse’f an’ de missis. Den’s de time when Ou’ Jackalse is a-watchin’ him, an’ as soon as he’s gone, here comes Jackalse to de bottom o’ de t’orn-tree an’ begins to scratch on de bark—scratch! scratch! scratch!

“Little Missis Tinky she look down out o de nest. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses she.

“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.

“‘What you want?’ ses Missis Tinky, all in a tremble.

“‘Want dem eggs you got,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, wid his hair up. ‘You better be sharp about it too.’

“‘Well, you ain’t a-gun’ to get ’em,’ flutter Missis Tinky; but she’s yust dat frighten’ she cahnt har’ly speak.

“‘Please yourse’f,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse; ‘but if you don’t drop me down a egg dis minute, den I’s a-comin’ up, an’ if I once does come up dere, den I’s a-gun’ to eat you first as well as de eggs. Make a hurry now—drop one!’

“Little missis she get sich a scrik when Ou’ Jackalse ses he’s a-comin’ up dat she yust go all a-flitty flutty, an’ dere ain’t no two ways about it, she hatto drop him one egg to save de rest. So out she pull it an down she drop it, right into Ou’ Jackalse mouf, where he stand on his back legs wid his front feets agen de tree. An’ as soon as he feel it in his mouf he yust gullup it down, an’ off he go for dat day. ‘I’ll make dis ting last a bit,’ ses he to hisse’f.

“Well, little Missis Tinky she’s in dat terr’ble way she cahnt har’ly sit still till Young Tinky comes home, an’ as soon’s ever she sees him she burst out a-cryin’ an’ a-tellin’ him what happened.

“‘What! An’ you b’lieve sich a fool tale as dat about him climbin’ de tree,’ ses Young Tinky, fair fightin’ mad at de way he lose dat egg. ‘He cahnt climb dis tree, not if he break his neck a-tryin’.’

“But Young Tinky he sees it ain’t no use; it ain’t a-gun’ to he’p his missis for him to shout an’ talk about it. ‘Never you mind dis time, little missis,’ ses he. ‘To-morrow you can go an’ look for de scoff, an’ I stay at home an’ wait for Ou’ Jackalse. I’ll show him what’s what dis time, too,’ ses he. An’ his missis she stop cryin’, dough she cahnt stop lookin’ where dat one egg ought to be.

“Well, de nex’ day Young Tinky he stop at home an’ sit on de nest while his missis went for scoff, an’ it ain’t but a while or two ’fore along comes Ou’ Jackalse to de foot o’ de tree-scratch! scratch! scratch!

“Young Tinky he ain’t a-lettin’ Ou’ Jackalse see who’s at home to-day; he yust on’y slant half o’ one eye down at him. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses he.

“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.

“‘An’ what you want scratchin’ dere?’ ses Tinky.

“‘Anoder egg, an’ you best be sharp about it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.

“‘Well, you’s yust about got all de eggs you’s a-gun’ to get here,’ ses Tinky, stickin’ all his head an’ shoulders out for Jackalse to have a good look at him.

“‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, showin’ his teef. ‘Well, if you won’t drop darie egg down in one minute, den I’s a-comin’ up an’ eat you all up—bones, beak an’ feders!’

“‘Come up den,’ ses Young Tinky, hoppin’ out onto a branch. ‘Yust you come up here if you darse, you hairy skellum you,’ squeak Tinky, hoppin’ up an’ down an’ flickin’ his wings like he’s fair a-gun’ to peck de eyes out o’ de hull fam’ly o’ de Jackalses. ‘You try it on, Mister Ou’ Jackalse, an’ see what I’s do to you!’ an’ Tinky swells hisse’f into a reg’lar ole rage as he tink o’ dat egg yestiday an’ his little missis frighten’ to deaf nearly.

“Dat make Ou’ Jackalse in sich a wax dat he spurt out de word he didn’t mean to. ‘I on’y wish I could yust come up dis tree to you. I’d scoff you down in yust one gullup an’ your eggses ahter you,’ ses he, a-rampin’ an’ a-tearin’.

“‘You ses dat,’ squeak young Tinky, ‘but I knows better. It’s not you cahnt—it’s you dahnt. But I’ll teach you to frighten poor little mammickies into givin’ you deir eggses, you skellum! skellum! skellum!’

“Ou’ Jackalse he get dat mad, a-snappin’ an’ a-snarlin’ while he listen, dat he fair turn away an’ slant out o’ dat, an’ Young Tinky is yust dat conceited of hisse’f he cahnt har’ly wait till his missis comes home ’fore he begin a-tellin’ her dat’s de way she ought to done yestiday. An’ Missis Tink she listen an’ she tink she’ll do de same herse’f now, if ever Ou’ Jackalse trouble her agen.

“So de nex’ day Young Tinky he go ahter de scoff, an’ his missis she sit on de eggs, tinkin’ it’s all right now. But Ou’ Jackalse he’d bin a-watchin’, an’ he know’s who’s a-gone an who’s a-stop at home, an in about no time he’s at de foot o’ darie t’orn-tree agen, an’ de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! at it.

“Little Missis Tink she stick her head out an’ she start to tell him to get out o’ dat, in de biggest voice she’s got. But she hadn’t more dan got out de first two words dan she see his teef where he bare ’em all round, white an’ yammerin’, an’ he look dat savage an’ murderin’ dat de rest o’ de words stuck fast in her froat, an’ she fair chattered wid fright.

“‘Down wi’ darie egg, else I’ll come an’ tear you into smitchies,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.

“Missis Tinky nearly drop out o’ de nest wid de scrik she got; but she tink o’ what Tink Tinky say, an’ she squeak it out. ‘You cahnt come up dis tree if you try,’ ses she.

“‘Cahnt I?’ ses he, all hair an’ spiky. ‘Yust see me half try!’ an’ he gives de biggest yump he ever make in his life, an’ it scrape him a couple o’ yards up de tree stem.

“Little missis she fair gi’en one big squawk an’ tink she’s all gone—eggs, nest, an’ all. ‘Is you a-gun’ to drop me dat egg?’ shouts Ou’ Jackalse.

“‘Yes, yes. Here it is! Take it, take it!’ squeak de little missis, an’ she drop out de one egg to him.

“Ou’ Jackalse he ketch dat egg an’ he gulp it down an’ off he go agen. ‘Nex’ time I come you better drop one quicker. I ain’t a-gun’ to ax twice no more,’ ses he.

“Well, as soon as he go, little Missis Tinky she cry like her heart break, an’ she cahnt sit dere on de dest at all. Anyhow she’s feared to wait till Young Tinky comes home, ’cause she don’t know what he’ll say when he finds anoder egg gone, an’ she’s in dat misery dat she don’t know what to do. Den she tink of her Aunt, Ou’ Reyer, de Blue Crane, an’ she fly off to her where she’s a-fis’in’ in de reeds, an’ she yust up an’ tell her de hull tale of it.

“‘So darie Ou’ Jackalse’s up to his tricks agen, is he?’ ses Ou’ Reyer. ‘Well, he’s meddle wid de birds before, an’ dis time we’ll teach him to don’t do it no more. Now you yust go home an’ sit on de nest agen, an’ I’ll come in a minute or two—den well be ready for him.’

“Little missis she go back, an’ in a minute or two Ou’ Reyer follows, an’ she hide herse’f in de top o’ de willow-tree over de nest. ‘Now for Ou’ Jackalse,’ ses she.

“Well, it ain’t but a little while rill here come Ou’ Jackalse agen, wid de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! an’ de same ole terr’fyin’ words—‘Drop me down anoder egg or I’ll come up an’ eat you,’ ses he.

“‘Make like you’s a-gun’ to drop him one,’ whispers Ou’ Reyer; an’ little Missis Tinky she make like she’s a-doin’ it.

“Ou’ Jackalse he rise up on his hine legs, an’ he put his paws agen de tree, an’ he open his mouf an’ shut his eyes, an’ he fair feel de taste o’ dat egg a’ready. An’ den, yust den, Ou’ Reyer she lean out over Missis Tinky an’ she open her big long beak, an’, swock! she drop a great big bull-frog right into Ou’ Jackalse’s froat.

And she dropped one right into Jackal's throat

And she dropped one right into Jackal’s throat

 

“Wow! but dere was a chokin’ an’ a squeal-in’ den. Ou’ Jackalse he yump an’ he roll, an’ he fling hisse’f along de ground a-tryin’ to cough up darie fat bull-frog, an’ darie ou’ bull-frog he puff an’ he wiggle an’ he slip down an’ down till dere he is in Ou’ Jackalse’s tummy, a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ an’ a-croakin’ an’ a-gloakin’ till Ou’ Jackalse is yust dat scared dat he light out f’m dere plump across de scenery. An’ he go dat fast he yust hit de high places as he went an’ never touch’ de low. I tell you Ou’ Jackalse was scared.

ISBN: 9781909302150

As Retold By Arthur Owen Vaughan

Illustrated By J.A. Shepherd

URL http://abelapublishing.com/old-hendiks-tales–13-south-african-folk-tales_p27279516.htm

 

Old Hendrik's Tales cover

Old Hendrik’s Tales cover

 

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Our THIRD WEST AFRICAN FOLKTALE

This story is about Salt, and Daudawa (sauce) and Nari (spice), and Onion-leaves, and Pepper and Daudawar-batso (a sauce).
A story, a story! Let it go, let it come.

Salt, and Daudawa, and Ground-nut, and Onion-leaves, and Pepper, and Daudawar-batso heard a report of a certain youth, by name Daskandarini. Now he was a beautiful youth, the son of the evil spirit. They (all) rose up, (and) turned into beautiful maidens, (and) they set off. As they (Salt, Onion-leaves, &c.) were going along, Daudawar-batso followed them.

They drove her off, telling her she stank. But she crouched down until they had gone on. She kept following them behind, until they reached a certain stream. (There) they came across an old woman; she was bathing. She said they must rub down her back for her, but this one said, ‘May Allah save me that I should lift my hand to touch an old woman’s back.’ And the old woman did not say anything more.

They passed on, and soon Daudawar-batso came, (and) met her washing. She greeted her, (and) she answered (and) said, ‘Maiden, where are you going?’ She replied, ‘I am going to where a certain youth is.’ (And) she (the old woman) said, ‘Rub my back for me!’ She said, ‘All right.’ She stopped, (and) rubbed her back well for her. The old woman said, ‘May Allah bless you.’ And she said, ‘This youth to whom you are (all) going to, have you known his name?’ She said, ‘No, we do not know his name.’

Then the old woman said, ‘He is my son, his name is Daskandarini, but you must not tell them.’ Then she ceased. She was following them far behind till they got to the place where the boy was. They were about to enter, but he said, ‘Go back, (and) enter one at a time.’ They said, ‘It is well,’ and returned. And then Salt came forward, (and) was about to enter, little girl, go back.’ She turned back. So Daudawa came forward.

When she was about to enter, she was asked, ‘Who are you?’ She said,’It is I.’ ‘Who are you? What is your name?’ ‘My name is Daudawa, who makes the soup sweet.’ And he said, ‘What is my name?’ She said, ‘I do not know your name, little boy, I do not know your name.’ He said, ‘Turn back, little girl, turn back.’ She turned back, (and) sat down.

Then Nari (spice) rose up and came forward, (and) she was about to enter when she was asked, ‘Who is this little girl? Who is this?’ She said, ‘It is I who greet you, little boy,
it is I who greet you.”What is your name, little girl, what is your name?’ ‘My name is Nari, who makes the soup savoury.’ ‘I have heard your name, little girl, I have heard your name. Speak my name.’ She said, ‘I do not know your name, little boy, I do not know your name.’ ‘Turn back, little girl, turn back.’ So she turned back, (and) sat down.

Then Onion-leaves rose and came up, and she stuck her head (into the room) and was asked, ‘Who is this little girl, who is this? It is I who salute you, little boy, it is I who salute you.’ What is your name, little girl, what is your name? My name is Onion-leaves, who makes the soup smell nicely.’ He said, ‘I have heard your name, little girl. What is my name?’ She said, ‘I do not know your name, little boy, I do not know your name.’ ‘Turn back, little boy (girl), turn back.’ So she turned back.

Now Pepper came along; she said, ‘Your pardon, little boy, your pardon.’ She was asked who was there. She said, ‘It is I, Pepper, little boy, it is I, Pepper, who make the soup hot.’ ‘I have heard your name, little girl, I have heard your name. Tell (me) my name, little girl, tell (me) my name.’ ‘I do not know your name, little boy, I do not know your name.’ He said, ‘Turn back, little maid, turn back.’

There was only left Daudawar-batso, and they said, ‘Are not you coming?’ She said, ‘Can I enter the house where such good people as you have gone, (and) been driven away? Would not they the sooner (drive) me out who stink?’ They said, ‘Rise up (and) go.’ So she got up (and) went. He asked her, ‘Who is there, little girl, who is there?’ And she said, ‘It is I who am greeting you, little boy, it is I who am greeting you.’ ‘What is your name, little girl, what is your name?’ ‘My name is Batso, little boy, my name is Batso, which makes the soup smell.’ He said, ‘I have heard your name, little girl, I have heard your name. There remains my name to be told.’ She said, ‘Daskandarini, little boy, Daskandarini.’ And he said, ‘Enter.’

A rug was spread for her, clothes were given to her, and slippers of gold; and then (of) these who had driven her away one said, ‘I will always sweep for you’; another, ‘I will pound for you.’
Another said, ‘I will see about drawing water for you’; and another, ‘I will pound (the ingredients) of the soup’; and another, ‘I will stir the food.’ They all became her handmaids.
And the moral of all this is, if you see a man is poor do not despise him; you do not know but that some day he may be better than you.

That is all.
Off with the rat’s head.

From: Hausa Folklore
ISBN: 978-1-907256-16-5
URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/hausa-folklore_p23332623.htm

———————–
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There was once a little Kid whose growing horns made him think he was a grown-up Billy Goat and able to take care of himself. So one evening when the flock started home from the pasture and his mother called, the Kid paid no heed and kept right on nibbling the tender grass. A little later when he lifted his head, the flock was gone.

 

He was all alone. The sun was sinking. Long shadows came creeping over the ground. A chilly little wind came creeping with them making scary noises in the grass. The Kid shivered as he thought of the terrible Wolf. Then he started wildly over the field, bleating for his mother. But not half-way, near a clump of trees, there was the Wolf!

The wolf and the kid from Aesop's fables for Children

The Kid knew there was little hope for him.

 

“Please, Mr. Wolf,” he said trembling, “I know you are going to eat me. But first please pipe me a tune, for I want to dance and be merry as long as I can.”

 

The Wolf liked the idea of a little music before eating, so he struck up a merry tune and the Kid leaped and frisked gaily.

 

Meanwhile, the flock was moving slowly homeward. In the still evening air the Wolf’s piping carried far. The Shepherd Dogs pricked up their ears. They recognized the song the Wolf sings before a feast, and in a moment they were racing back to the pasture. The Wolf’s song ended suddenly, and as he ran, with the Dogs at his heels, he called himself a fool for turning piper to please a Kid, when he should have stuck to his butcher’s trade.

 

MORAL: Do not let anything turn you from your purpose

 

————————-

From ÆSOP FOR CHILDREN

To be published as a paperback and ebook during the summer of 2012

 

A percentage of the profits will be donated to Cecily’s Fund – educating Zambian children orphaned by Aids.

 

 

 

 

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