My Lord Bag of Rice

Long, long ago there lived, in Japan a brave warrior known to all as Tawara Toda, or “My Lord Bag
of Rice.” His true name was Fujiwara Hidesato, and there is a very interesting story of how he came
to change his name.

One day he sallied forth in search of adventures, for he had the nature of a warrior and could not
bear to be idle. So he buckled on his two swords, took his huge bow, much taller than himself, in his
hand, and slinging his quiver on his back started out. He had not gone far when he came to the
bridge of Seta-no-Karashi spanning one end of the beautiful Lake Biwa. No sooner had he set foot
on the bridge than he saw lying right across his path a huge serpent-dragon. Its body was so big that
it looked like the trunk of a large pine tree and it took up the whole width of the bridge. One of its
huge claws rested on the parapet of one side of the bridge, while its tail lay right against the other.

The monster seemed to be asleep, and as it breathed, fire and smoke came out of its nostrils.

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

He had only gone a few steps when he heard some one calling him from behind. On turning back he
was much surprised to see that the monster dragon had entirely disappeared and in its place was a
strange-looking man, who was bowing most ceremoniously to the ground. His red hair streamed
over his shoulders and was surmounted by a crown in the shape of a dragon’s head, and his sea-
green dress was patterned with shells. Hidesato knew at once that this was no ordinary mortal and
he wondered much at the strange occurrence. Where had the dragon gone in such a short space of
time? Or had it transformed itself into this man, and what did the whole thing mean? While these
thoughts passed through his mind he had come up to the man on the bridge and now addressed him:

“Was it you that called me just now?”

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

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

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

“And what is it you have to ask of me!” said Hidesato.

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

“I have lived now for many years in this lake and I have a large family of children and grand-
children. For some time past we have lived in terror, for a monster centipede has discovered our
home, and night after night it comes and carries off one of my family. I am powerless to save them.

If it goes on much longer like this, not only shall I lose all my children, but I myself must fall a
victim to the monster. I am, therefore, very unhappy, and in my extremity I determined to ask the
help of a human being. For many days with this intention I have waited on the bridge in the shape
of the horrible serpent-dragon that you saw, in the hope that some strong brave man would come
along. But all who came this way, as soon as they saw me were terrified and ran away as fast as
they could. You are the first man I have found able to look at me without fear, so I knew at once that
you were a man of great courage. I beg you to have pity upon me. Will you not help me and kill my
enemy the centipede?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing daunted, Hidesato took another arrow, fitted it to the notch of the bow and let fly. Again the
arrow hit the mark, it struck the centipede right in the middle of its head, only to glance off and fall
to the ground. The centipede was invulnerable to weapons! When the Dragon King saw that even
this brave warrior’s arrows were powerless to kill the centipede, he lost heart and began to tremble
with fear.
The warrior saw that he had now only one arrow left in his quiver, and if this one failed he could
not kill the centipede. He looked across the waters. The huge reptile had wound its horrid body
seven times round the mountain and would soon come down to the lake. Nearer and nearer gleamed
fireballs of eyes, and the light of its hundred feet began to throw reflections in the still waters of the
lake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Second, a bag of rice.

Third, a roll of silk.

Fourth, a cooking pot.

Fifth, a bell.

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

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

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

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

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

The single bag of rice, however much was taken from it day after day for the meals of the knight
and his whole family, never grew less—the supply in the bag was inexhaustible.

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

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

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

Jack Hannaford
There was once a farmer and his wife. She had been married before, her first husband had died, and
now she was married again. They lived on a remote farm in the West of England, and what a proper
pair of fools they were! Which of them was the most foolish? Listen to the story and decide for
yourself.
In those days, there also lived an old soldier called Jack Hannaford. The elbows of his coat were
frayed, but nobody could take him for a fool. When he left the army, he roamed over the country
looking for opportunities to practice his cunning. After he had rambled for some time, he came
across the farm belonging to the pair. He rapped on the door of the house, and was answered by the
wife. She looked him up and down, quite astonished, because few strangers made it across the
moors to such lonely place.

“And where have you come from?” she asked.

Jack rolled his eyes up to the bleak sky and replied: ‘Heaven’.

“Lord a' mercy!” she exclaimed. “Did you see my old man there?” (meaning her first husband who
had died).

“Oh yes, I knew him well when I was staying in Heaven,” said Jack.

“And how is he doing?” asked the good lady.

“So so,” replied the old soldier. “He works hard sewing and mending for the saints and angels, but
even so he’s short of a few shillings to buy anything much to eat.”

“And did he have a message for me?” asked she.

“Why yes, that’s why I’ve come here. He asked me to fetch him some money so that he can spend
his days in paradise more comfortably.”

Now the lady’s heart almost bled with pity for her first husband. “Why I shan’t deny him anything,
for he’s a good man, bless his soul,” she said. And she went to the chimney where the couple’s
savings were kept hidden. She pulled down a full ten pounds, which in those days was a very decent
sum of money. She handed the lot over to the old soldier and told him to hurry up and give it to her
husband.

“That I will,” he assured her, “as soon as I make my way back up to Heaven.”

When the farmer returned, the good woman told him all about how a messenger had come from
Heaven asking for money for her first husband who had died, and was hard up in the life ever after.

“Why you fool!” cried the farmer. “How could you believe such a fantastic story?”

“Well you’re a bigger fool,” said the woman, “because you told me where the money was hidden.”

The husband did not quite see the reason in this, but he hurried off on his horse to try and find the
old soldier before he got too far down the road.

Jack Hannaford heard the clattering of hooves behind him, and thought it likely that the farmer was
after him and the money. He knelt by the side of the road, shaded his eyes with one hand, and
pointed up to the sky with the other.

The farmer soon caught up with him and asked: “What you be doing there by the side of the road,
shading your gaze, and pointing up the sky?”

“Lord Save Me!” said the man. “That’s a wonderful sight.”

“What kind of wonder?” asked the farmer.

“A man walking straight up to Heaven on a rainbow, just as if it were a road.”

The farmer gazed at the sky, but he could not see the amazing rainbow or the man walking on it.

“Here,” said the soldier, “kneel down by the side of the road and look up like I’m doing.”

“I will if you’ll hold my horse,” said the farmer, and he jumped down. As soon as he was lying on
the ground, the soldier leapt onto the horse and rode off.

Now who do you think was the bigger fool, the farmer or his wife?

The Endless Tale

In the Far East there was a great king who had no work to do. Every day, and all day long, he sat on
soft cushions and listened to stories. And no matter what the story was about, he never grew tired of
hearing it, even though it was very long.

"There is only one fault that I find with your story," he often said: "it is too short."

All the story-tellers in the world were invited to his palace; and some of them told tales that were
very long indeed. But the king was always sad when a story was ended.

At last he sent word into every city and town and country place, offering a prize to any one who
should tell him an endless tale. He said,--

"To the man that will tell me a story which shall last forever, I will give my fairest daughter for his
wife; and I will make him my heir, and he shall be king after me."

But this was not all. He added a very hard condition. "If any man shall try to tell such a story and
then fail, he shall have his head cut off."

The king's daughter was very pretty, and there were many young men in that country who were
willing to do anything to win her. But none of them wanted to lose their heads, and so only a few
tried for the prize.
One young man invented a story that lasted three months; but at the end of that time, he could think
of nothing more. His fate was a warning to others, and it was a long time before another story-teller
was so rash as to try the king's patience.

But one day a stranger from the South came into the palace.

"Great king," he said, "is it true that you offer a prize to the man who can tell a story that has no
end?"

"It is true," said the king.

"And shall this man have your fairest daughter for his wife, and shall he be your heir?"

"Yes, if he succeeds," said the king. "But if he fails, he shall lose his head."

"Very well, then," said the stranger. "I have a pleasant story about locusts which I would like to
relate."

"Tell it," said the king. "I will listen to you."

The story-teller began his tale.

"Once upon a time a certain king seized upon all the corn in his country, and stored it away in a
strong granary. But a swarm of locusts came over the land and saw where the grain had been put.

After searching for many days they found on the east side of the granary a crevice that was just
large enough for one locust to pass through at a time. So one locust went in and carried away a
grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried away a grain of corn; then another locust went
in and carried away a grain of corn."

Day after day, week after week, the man kept on saying, "Then another locust went in and carried
away a grain of corn."

A month passed; a year passed. At the end of two years, the king said,--

"How much longer will the locusts be going in and carrying away corn?"

"O king!" said the story-teller, "they have as yet cleared only one cubit; and there are many
thousand cubits in the granary."

"Man, man!" cried the king, "you will drive me mad. I can listen to it no longer. Take my daughter;
be my heir; rule my kingdom. But do not let me hear another word about those horrible locusts!"

And so the strange story-teller married the king's daughter. And he lived happily in the land for
many years. But his father-in-law, the king, did not care to listen to any more stories.
Jack and the Beanstalk

Once there was a young man named Jack. He lived with his mother on a small farm at the foot of
the Misty Mountains.

Jack and his mother were very poor. Their only way of making money was selling the milk from
their cow, Bess.

One morning, Jack's mother woke him up early. It was still dark outside. She was crying.

"Jack, wake up! Go to the market today and sell our cow, Bess."

"But why?" asked Jack, yawning.

"We need money to fix our house. There are holes in the roof. The windows are broken. For
heaven's sake, we have no front door. Winter is coming soon. If we don't fix the house, the cold will
kill us."

Jack packed his bag and fetched Bess from the barn.

As he was walking out the gate, he heard his mother shout: "She is worth at least five gold coins!

Don’t sell her for less!"

When Jack was half way to the market, he met an old man.

"Good morning, my boy!" said the old man. "Where are you going today?"

"Good morning, sir," replied Jack. "I'm going to the market to sell my cow. Her name is Bess."

"She is a beautiful cow," said the man. "I will buy Bess, and I will give you a very good deal!"

“How much will you pay for her? I won’t take less than five gold coins!” said Jack.

“I don't have five gold coins, but I have these five black beans,” whispered the man. “These beans
are magic beans! They are worth more than gold! If you take these beans, you will be richer than
the richest man in the world.”

Jack thought about his mother. He thought about how happy she would be if they were rich. They
could fix the roof, the windows, and the front door. Maybe they could buy a new cow!

“Okay," said Jack. "You’ve got a deal. Give me the beans."

Jack was very excited. He ran home and showed his mother the beans. But instead of being happy,
she was furious.

“You foolish boy! You traded our only cow for a handful of beans!” She took the beans and threw
them out the window. Then she sat down beside the fire and cried.

Jack was devastated. He shut himself in his bedroom. He felt so stupid. They no longer had a cow,
and now they were poorer than before. What a disaster! And it was his fault!
The next morning when Jack opened the curtains, he saw something very strange.

In the same place where his mother had thrown the beans, there was a giant, green beanstalk. It
stretched from the ground, up, up, up… all the way to the clouds.

“The beans really are magic!” whispered Jack. "The old man was telling the truth!"

Jack's mother was still asleep, so Jack decided to climb the beanstalk to look for the riches the old
man had described.

"Just five gold coins. That's all I need to make my mother happy," thought Jack.

Jack climbed up, up, up, higher and higher into the clouds. When he reached the top, he was very
hungry. He saw a castle in the distance.

"Maybe I can find something to eat in that castle…" he thought.

Jack walked up to the door of the castle and knocked twice. Knock knock!

A giantess opened the door. She was as big as a house, but she had a warm smile and gentle eyes.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Giant," said Jack. "Could you please give me something to eat? I am so hungry!"

"Oh you poor boy!" said the giantess. She could see that Jack was very thin. "Of course! Come in!

Come in!"

The kind giantess gave Jack some vegetable stew. He was enjoying it so much that he didn't notice
when the kitchen table started to shake.

Stomp... Stomp... Stomp… Loud footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"Oh dear," whispered the giantess. "That is my husband! He is home from work! He doesn't like
humans! Quick! Hide!"

Jack hid in the pantry.

The giant stomped into the kitchen and sniffed the air.

"FEE FI FO FUM! ... Hello my beautiful wife...

Wait! Do I smell a human man? YUCK! WHERE IS HE?"

"Good evening, my darling husband," replied the giantess. "There is nobody here. You smell the
vegetable stew, nothing more."

"Good," grunted the giant. "I hate humans." He sat down at the table in the kitchen.

The giant took out a small sack of gold coins out of his pocket and counted them. One... two...

three... four... five gold coins.

Jack watched from inside the pantry. "Five gold coins!" thought Jack. "If I had that money, I could
fix our house!"
When the two giants left the room, Jack stole the five gold coins and slipped them into his bag.
"This is all I need!" thought Jack.

But then Jack remembered that his family no longer had a cow. Without a cow, they would surely
starve. He decided to stay and look for other treasures.

He followed the giant into the living room and hid under the couch. The giant went to the cupboard
and pulled out a golden hen.

“Hello, my beautiful hen. Lay, please!" said the giant, and the hen laid a golden egg.

Jack watched from under the couch.

"A hen that lays golden eggs!" whispered Jack. "If I had that hen, I could buy fifty cows!"

When the giant left the room, Jack crawled out from under the couch. He went to the cupboard,
took the hen, and put it in his bag.

"This is all I need… " thought Jack.

But then Jack thought about what the old man had promised. Jack imagined being richer than the
richest man in the world. He decided to see what other treasures he could find.

He followed the giant into the bedroom, and hid under the bed. There was a golden harp standing in
a corner of the room.

"Hello, my beautiful harp. Play, please!" said the giant. The harp began playing music with no one
touching the strings.

"Wow! A magic harp!" whispered Jack. "That harp would make me rich and famous!"

When the giant fell asleep, Jack crawled out from under the bed. He took the magic harp and put it
in his bag.

But this time Jack was less lucky.

The magic harp screamed, “Help me, master! A human is stealing me!”

The giant woke up and saw Jack with the magic harp, the golden hen, and his gold coins.

"STOP, THIEF!"

The giant chased Jack — out of the bedroom, down the hallway, through the kitchen, and out the
front door. But Jack was smaller and faster than the giant. Jack reached the beanstalk first and slid
down. He arrived at the ground with all his treasures.

The giant reached the top of the beanstalk and looked down. He was afraid of heights. He slowly
climbed down.

"BE CAREFUL, MY HUSBAND!" shouted the giantess from the castle. "HUMANS CAN BE

DANGEROUS!"

Jack saw the giant coming down the beanstalk. So he ran into his house and grabbed an axe. He
chopped the beanstalk. Whack! Whack! Whack!
Suddenly, the beanstalk snapped. The giant came tumbling down from the sky. He fell down, down,
down, and landed far away, on the other side of the Misty Mountains. Thud!

For a moment everything was silent. Then Jack heard a strange sound from far away.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooo!"

It was the giant. The beanstalk had fallen, and now he had no way to get back up to his castle in the
clouds.

The giant yelled so loudly that the clouds shook and turned gray. Then somewhere up in the sky,
Jack heard Mrs. Giant start to cry. Her tears fell through the clouds in tiny drops and soaked the
earth.

After that, Jack and his mother lived a very comfortable life. The golden hen made a Jack a
millionaire. The magic harp made him famous. Jack married a rich and famous woman and together
they had ten children.

But Jack was never truly happy.

Every time the wind blew, Jack heard the giant calling for his wife. And every time it rained, he felt
the giant-wife's tears falling on him.

Jack felt sad and guilty.

One day, when Jack was very old, he decided that he didn't want to be sad any more. He opened a
box on his mantelpiece and pulled out one last shrivelled magic bean.

If he could find the giant, he could grow another beanstalk. Then the giant could back up to his
castle in the clouds. If he could find the giant, he could also apologize for being so greedy.

Jack packed his bag and walked into the Misty Mountains.

Did Jack find the giant? Did he grow a new beanstalk with the last magic bean? Nobody knows.

But people say, if you listen closely during a thunderstorm, you can hear the rumbling sound of two
giants dancing together in the clouds.
The Boy Who Flew Too High

I’ve told you before about the half man-half half-bull called the Minotaur. This strange and terrible
beast lived in a deep, dark Labyrinth on the island of Crete. Well, you may remember that the
Labyrinth was created by the cunning and ingenious mind of Daedalus.

Daedalus was a brilliant architect and inventor – in fact, he was so brilliant that King Minos of
Crete did not want to let him go back to his home in Athens. Instead, he kept him as a prisoner.

Daedalus lived with his son Icarus in a tower of the palace, and King Minos made him invent
weapons of war that would make his army and navy even more powerful than they already were.

Although Daedalus and Icarus had every comfort they could ask for, the father longed to return
home to Athens. His son hardly remembered his home city, but he too wanted to leave because he
longed to run and play in the open, rather than live in a tower all day.

Daedalus looked out over the waves of the Mediterranean Sea, and he realised that even if they
could manage to slip out of the tower and find a little boat, they wouldn’t be able to sail very far
before they were spotted and caught by one of the ships of King Minos’ navy.

He thought for a long time about the best way to escape, and finally he came up with a plan, and
this is what he did... He told King Minos that he needed feathers and wax for a new invention that
he was working on. When these were brought to him, he took them up onto the roof of the tower.

Here he arranged them into four lines, starting with the smallest feathers, and followed those with
the longer ones so that they formed gentle curves. He then began to stick the feathers together with
thread in the middle and wax at the base. While he was working, Icarus played with the wax,
squashing it between his finger and thumb, and when the feathers blew away in the breeze he ran
after them and caught them.

When Daedalus had finished, he showed Icarus his work. He had made the feathers into two pairs
of wings. He fastened the larger pair to his arms, and began to flap them until his feet took off from
the floor and he began to hover in mid air. Icarus laughed with delight and could not wait to try out
the smaller pair of wings. Over the next few days, father and son both practised with them until
little Icarus was almost as good at flying as his father was.

Then one morning Daedalus said to Icarus, "Now Son, we are ready to leave this island for good.

We shall fly home to Athens. Although you are now quite good at flying, you must not forget that it
can be very dangerous. Listen to my instructions and be sure to follow them to the letter. At all
times follow me, for I will find the way home. Do not veer off on a different flight path, or you will
soon be lost. Do not fly too low or your wings will fill with moisture from the waves, and if they
will become too heavy you will sink down. Nor should you fly too high, or the sun will heat the
wax and your wings will fall apart. Have you understood all that I have said?"

Little Icarus nodded to show his father that he had understood. Then Daedalus led his son up onto
the battlements of the tower, and like a bird leading her fledglings from the nest for the first time, he
jumped into mid air and flapped his wings, Icarus followed soon after.
If a fisherman or a shepherd had looked up just then, he would have seen two very unusual birds
hovering above the waves. No doubt he would have thought that they had caught sight of two
winged gods. Who could have believed that a mortal father and son had mastered the art of flight?

Over the seas they sailed, and at first Icarus felt frightened for he had never ventured very far in his
practice flights, but soon he found that he was really good at flying. In fact, it was the most
tremendous fun you could ever have. He began to swoop up and down with the sea gulls. Wow! It

was amazing! His father turned round and called, "Icarus, take care!" and for a while after that
Icarus obeyed his father, and flapped along behind him. But then his wings caught a warm air
current, and he found that he could soar along and upwards almost without any effort. This was the
life! He was floating ever so high above the waves and the ships down below were like tiny little
specks.

His father called up to him, “Icarus, remember what I told you. Come down right now!” Icarus
could not hear him however, and his father could not catch up with him.

Icarus was far too close to the sun, and soon the wax that held the feathers together began to melt.

Gradually his wings began to lose their shape, and some of the feathers even began to fall off.

Icarus flapped his arms frantically, but it was too late. He had lost the power of flight and down he
plunged into the sea.

The Bell of Atri

Atri is the name of a little town in Italy. It is a very old town, and is built half-way up the side of a
steep hill.
A long time ago, the King of Atri bought a fine large bell, and had it hung up in a tower in the
market place. A long rope that reached almost to the ground was fastened to the bell. The smallest
child could ring the bell by pulling upon this rope.

"It is the bell of justice," said the king.

When at last everything was ready, the people of Atri had a great holiday. All the men and women
and children came down to the market place to look at the bell of justice. It was a very pretty bell,
and was, polished until it looked almost as bright and yellow as the sun.

"How we should like to hear it ring!" they said.

Then the king came down the street.

"Perhaps he will ring it," said the people; and everybody stood very still, and waited to see what he
would do.

But he did not ring the bell. He did not even take the rope in his hands. When he came to the foot of
the tower, he stopped, and raised his hand.

"My people," he said, "do you see this beautiful bell? It is your bell; but it must never be rung
except in case of need. If any one of you is wronged at any time, he may come and ring the bell; and
then the judges shall come together at once, and hear his case, and give him justice. Rich and poor,
old and young, all alike may come; but no one must touch the rope unless he knows that he has
been wronged."

Many years passed by after this. Many times did the bell in the market place ring out to call the
judges together. Many wrongs were righted, many ill-doers were punished. At last the hempen rope

was almost worn out. The lower part of it was untwisted; some of the strands were broken; it
became so short that only a tall man could reach it.

"This will never do," said the judges one day. "What if a child should be wronged? It could not ring
the bell to let us know it."

They gave orders that a new rope should be put upon the bell at once,--a rope that should hang
down to the ground, so that the smallest child could reach it. But there was not a rope to be found in
all Atri. They would have to send across the mountains for one, and it would be many days before it
could be brought. What if some great wrong should be done before it came? How could the judges
know about it, if the injured one could not reach the old rope?

"Let me fix it for you," said a man who stood by.

He ran into his garden, which was not far away, and soon came back with a long grape-vine in his
hands.

"This will do for a rope," he said; and he climbed up, and fastened it to the bell. The slender vine,
with its leaves and tendrils still upon it, trailed to the ground.

"Yes," said the judges, "it is a very good rope. Let it be as it is."

Now, on the hill-side above the village, there lived a man who had once been a brave knight. In his
youth he had ridden through many lands, and he had fought in many a battle. His best friend
through all that time had been his horse,--a strong, noble steed that had borne him safe through
many a danger.

But the knight, when he grew older, cared no more to ride into battle; he cared no more to do brave
deeds; he thought of nothing but gold; he became a miser. At last he sold all that he had, except his
horse, and went to live in a little hut on the hill-side. Day after day he sat among his money bags,
and planned how he might get more gold; and day after day his horse stood in his bare stall, half-
starved, and shivering with cold.

"What is the use of keeping that lazy steed?" said the miser to himself one morning. "Every week it
costs me more to keep him than he is worth. I might sell him; but there is not a man that wants him.

I cannot even give him away. I will turn him out to shift for himself, and pick grass by the roadside.

If he starves to death, so much the better."

So the brave old horse was turned out to find what he could among the rocks on the barren hill-side.

Lame and sick, he strolled along the dusty roads, glad to find a blade of grass or a thistle. The boys
threw stones at him, the dogs barked at him, and in all the world there was no one to pity him.

One hot afternoon, when no one was upon the street, the horse chanced to wander into the market
place. Not a man nor child was there, for the heat of the sun had driven them all indoors. The gates
were wide open; the poor beast could roam where he pleased. He saw the grape-vine rope that hung
from the bell of justice. The leaves and tendrils upon it were still fresh and green, for it had not been
there long. What a fine dinner they would be for a starving horse!

He stretched his thin neck, and took one of the tempting morsels in his mouth. It was hard to break
it from the vine. He pulled at it, and the great bell above him began to ring. All the people in Atri
heard it. It seemed to say,--

"Some one has done me wrong!

Some one has done me wrong!

Oh! come and judge my case!

Oh! come and judge my case!

For I've been wronged!"

The judges heard it. They put on their robes, and went out through the hot streets to the market
place. They wondered who it could be who would ring the bell at such a time. When they passed
through the gate, they saw the old horse nibbling at the vine.

"Ha!" cried one, "it is the miser's steed. He has come to call for justice; for his master, as everybody
knows, has treated him most shamefully."

"He pleads his cause as well as any dumb brute can," said another.

"And he shall have justice!" said the third.

Mean-while a crowd of men and women and children had come into the market place, eager to learn
what cause the judges were about to try. When they saw the horse, all stood still in wonder. Then
every one was ready to tell how they had seen him wandering on the hills, unfed, uncared for, while
his master sat at home counting his bags of gold.

"Go bring the miser before us," said the judges.

And when he came, they bade him stand and hear their judgment.

"This horse has served you well for many a year," they said. "He has saved you from many a peril.

He has helped you gain your wealth. Therefore we order that one half of all your gold shall be set
aside to buy him shelter and food, a green pasture where he may graze, and a warm stall to comfort
him in his old age."

The miser hung his head, and grieved to lose his gold; but the people shouted with joy, and the
horse was led away to his new stall and a dinner such as he had not had in many a day.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Once upon a time there were three Bears, who lived together in a house of their own, in a wood.

One of them was a Little Wee Bear, and one was a Middle-sized Bear, and the other was a Great Big
Bear. They had each a bowl for their porridge; a little bowl for the Little Wee Bear; and a middle-
sized bowl for the Middle-sized Bear; and a great bowl for the Great Big Bear. And they had each a
chair to sit in; a little chair for the Little Wee Bear; and a middle-sized chair for the Middle-sized
Bear; and a great chair for the Great Big Bear. And they had each a bed to sleep in; a little bed for

the Little Wee Bear; and a middle-sized bed for the Middle-sized Bear; and a great bed for the Great
Big Bear.

One day, after they had made the porridge for their breakfast, and poured it into their porridge-
bowls, they walked out into the wood while the porridge was cooling, that they might not burn their
mouths by beginning too soon, for they were polite, well-brought-up Bears. And while they were
away a little girl called Goldilocks, who lived at the other side of the wood and had been sent on an
errand by her mother, passed by the house, and looked in at the window. And then she peeped in at
the keyhole, for she was not at all a well-brought-up little girl. Then seeing nobody in the house she
lifted the latch. The door was not fastened, because the Bears were good Bears, who did nobody any
harm, and never suspected that anybody would harm them. So Goldilocks opened the door and went
in; and well pleased was she when she saw the porridge on the table. If she had been a well-
brought-up little girl she would have waited till the Bears came home, and then, perhaps, they
would have asked her to breakfast; for they were good Bears—a little rough or so, as the manner of
Bears is, but for all that very goodnatured and hospitable. But she was an impudent, rude little girl,
and so she set about helping herself.

First she tasted the porridge of the Great Big Bear, and that was too hot for her. Next she tasted the
porridge of the Middle-sized Bear, but that was too cold for her. And then she went to the porridge
of the Little Wee Bear, and tasted it, and that was neither too hot nor too cold, but just right, and she
liked it so well that she ate it all up, every bit!

Then Goldilocks, who was tired, for she had been catching butterflies instead of running on her
errand, sate down in the chair of the Great Big Bear, but that was too hard for her. And then she sate
down in the chair of the Middle-sized Bear, and that was too soft for her. But when she sat down in
the chair of the Little Wee Bear, that was neither too hard nor too soft, but just right. So she seated
herself in it, and there she sate till the bottom of the chair came out, and down she came, plump
upon the ground; and that made her very cross, for she was a bad-tempered little girl.

Now, being determined to rest, Goldilocks went upstairs into the bedchamber in which the Three
Bears slept. And first she lay down upon the bed of the Great Big Bear, but that was too high at the
head for her. And next she lay down upon the bed of the Middle-sized Bear, and that was too high at
the foot for her. And then she lay down upon the bed of the Little Wee Bear, and that was neither too
high at the head nor at the foot, but just right. So she covered herself up comfortably, and lay there
till she fell fast asleep.

By this time the Three Bears thought their porridge would be cool enough for them to eat it
properly; so they came home to breakfast. Now careless Goldilocks had left the spoon of the Great
Big Bear standing in his porridge.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

Then the Middle-sized Bear looked at his porridge and saw the spoon was standing in it too.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

Then the Little Wee Bear looked at his, and there was the spoon in the porridge-bowl, but the
porridge was all gone!

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN AT MY PORRIDGE, AND HAS EATEN IT ALL UP!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

Upon this the Three Bears, seeing that some one had entered their house, and eaten up the Little
Wee Bear's breakfast, began to look about them. Now the careless Goldilocks had not put the hard
cushion straight when she rose from the chair of the Great Big Bear.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

And the careless Goldilocks had squatted down the soft cushion of the Middle-sized Bear.
"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR, AND HAS SATE THE BOTTOM

THROUGH!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

Then the Three Bears thought they had better make further search in case it was a burglar, so they
went upstairs into their bedchamber. Now Goldilocks had pulled the pillow of the Great Big Bear
out of its place.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!"

said the Great Big Bear in his great, rough, gruff voice.

And Goldilocks had pulled the bolster of the Middle-sized Bear out of its place.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED!"

said the Middle-sized Bear in his middle-sized voice.

But when the Little Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was the bolster in its place! And the
pillow was in its place upon the bolster!

And upon the pillow——?

There was Goldilocks's yellow head—which was not in its place, for she had no business there.

"SOMEBODY HAS BEEN LYING IN MY BED,—AND HERE SHE IS STILL!"

said the Little Wee Bear in his little wee voice.

Now Goldilocks had heard in her sleep the great, rough, gruff voice of the Great Big Bear; but she
was so fast asleep that it was no more to her than the roaring of wind, or the rumbling of thunder.

And she had heard the middle-sized voice of the Middle-sized Bear, but it was only as if she had
heard some one speaking in a dream. But when she heard the little wee voice of the Little Wee Bear,
it was so sharp, and so shrill, that it awakened her at once. Up she started, and when she saw the
Three Bears on one side of the bed, she tumbled herself out at the other, and ran to the window.

Now the window was open, because the Bears, like good, tidy Bears, as they were, always opened
their bedchamber window when they got up in the morning. So naughty, frightened little Goldilocks
jumped; and whether she broke her neck in the fall, or ran into the wood and was lost there, or

found her way out of the wood and got whipped for being a bad girl and playing truant, no one can
say. But the Three Bears never saw anything more of her.
Antonio Canova

A good many years ago there lived in Italy a little boy whose name was Antońio Cano´va. He lived
with his grandfather, for his own father was dead. His grandfather was a stonecutter, and he was
very poor.

Antonio was a puny lad, and not strong enough to work. He did not care to play with the other boys
of the town. But he liked to go with his grandfather to the stone-yard. While the old man was busy,
cutting and trimming the great blocks of stone, the lad would play among the chips.

Sometimes he would make a little statue of soft clay; sometimes he would take hammer and chisel,
and try to cut a statue from a piece of rock. He showed so much skill that his grandfather was
delight-ed.

"The boy will be a sculptor some day," he said.

Then when they went home in the evening, the grand-moth-er would say, "What have you been
doing to-day, my little sculptor?"

And she would take him upon her lap and sing to him, or tell him stories that filled his mind with
pictures of wonderful and beautiful things. And the next day, when he went back to the stone-yard,
he would try to make some of those pictures in stone or clay.

There lived in the same town a rich man who was called the Count. Sometimes the Count would
have a grand dinner, and his rich friends from other towns would come to visit him. Then Antonio's
grandfather would go up to the Count's house to help with the work in the kitchen; for he was a fine
cook as well as a good stonecutter.

It happened one day that Antonio went with his grandfather to the Count's great house. Some people
from the city were coming, and there was to be a grand feast. The boy could not cook, and he was
not old enough to wait on the table; but he could wash the pans and kettles, and as he was smart and
quick, he could help in many other ways.

All went well until it was time to spread the table for dinner. Then there was a crash in the dining
room, and a man rushed into the kitchen with some pieces of marble in his hands. He was pale, and
trembling with fright.

"What shall I do? What shall I do?" he cried. "I have broken the statue that was to stand at the
center of the table. I cannot make the table look pretty without the statue. What will the Count say?"

And now all the other servants were in trouble. Was the dinner to be a failure after all? For
everything depended on having the table nicely arranged. The Count would be very angry.

"Ah, what shall we do?" they all asked.

Then little Antonio Canova left his pans and kettles, and went up to the man who had caused the
trouble.

"If you had another statue, could you arrange the table?" he asked.

"Certainly," said the man; "that is, if the statue were of the right length and height."

"Will you let me try to make one?" asked Antonio "Perhaps I can make something that will do."

The man laughed.

"Non-sense!" he cried. "Who are you, that you talk of making statues on an hour's notice?"

"I am Antonio Canova," said the lad.

"Let the boy try what he can do," said the servants, who knew him.

And so, since nothing else could be done, the man allowed him to try.

On the kitchen table there was a large square lump of yellow butter. Two hundred pounds the lump
weighed, and it had just come in, fresh and clean, from the dairy on the mountain. With a kitchen
knife in his hand, Antonio began to cut and carve this butter. In a few minutes he had molded it into
the shape of a crouching lion; and all the servants crowded around to see it.

"How beautiful!" they cried. "It is a great deal prettier than the statue that was broken."

When it was finished, the man carried it to its place.

"The table will be handsomer by half than I ever hoped to make it," he said.

When the Count and his friends came in to dinner, the first thing they saw was the yellow lion.

"What a beautiful work of art!" they cried. "None but a very great artist could ever carve such a
figure; and how odd that he should choose to make it of butter!" And then they asked the Count to
tell them the name of the artist.

"Truly, my friends," he said, "this is as much of a surprise to me as to you." And then he called to
his head servant, and asked him where he had found so wonderful a statue.

"It was carved only an hour ago by a little boy in the kitchen," said the servant.

This made the Count's friends wonder still more; and the Count bade the servant call the boy into
the room.

"My lad," he said, "you have done a piece of work of which the greatest artists would be proud.

What is your name, and who is your teacher?"

"My name is Antonio Canova," said the boy, "and I have had no teacher but my grandfather the
stonecutter."

By this time all the guests had crowded around Antonio. There were famous artists among them,
and they knew that the lad was a genius. They could not say enough in praise of his work; and when
at last they sat down at the table, nothing would please them but that Antonio should have a seat
with them; and the dinner was made a feast in his honor.
The very next day the Count sent for Antonio to come and live with him. The best artists in the land
were employed to teach him the art in which he had shown so much skill; but now, instead of

carving butter, he chiseled marble. In a few years, Antonio Canova became known as one of the
greatest sculptors in the world.

Why Cats and Dogs are Enemies

I used to sneak into a house through a small crack to get supper sometimes.

I'm a mouse, so I can fit through the teeniest entrances. Unfortunately, the house and its inhabitants
weren't doing very well. Every time I visited, there were fewer crumbs. Additionally, the dangers
hardly made it worthwhile.

They had a cat who was getting skinnier, so I should have known that she would be on the lookout
for a tasty morsel like me. Though my nose does twitch, I'm not nosey, but one night I could not
help overhearing an argument.

"It's all your fault we're starving," said a distressed woman. "You shouldn't have sold my mother's
ring behind my back. All you got for it was an old, lame horse!" "What's the ring got to do with it?"
asked the man. "As I told you, the person who wears that ring will never go hungry." "I don't
believe in magic and nonsense," replied the man. "That's why you are so thin and your trousers keep
falling down." The conversation was so interesting that I hung around a fraction too long. And
then... BAM! Everything went black.

"Am I dead or alive?" I thought, but then I heard a voice I recognized. The dog, a mutt who smelled
like a rotting blanket, said, "Hey cat, hang on. Don't eat that mouse just yet." "But I haven’t had a
decent meal in days," whined the cat. "Neither have I, but the mouse will only satisfy your tummy
for a few hours. We can use him to fill our stomachs and our masters’ stomachs for the rest of our
days." "It's a mouse, not a hen. He can’t lay eggs," snarled the cat.

"No," woofed the dog, "that's not what I mean."

"The first thing about a mouse is that he's small..." "So?" "So, if we take him to the house where the
magic ring is, he can slip inside and get it for us. He'll do this because his life depends on it. The
Magpie told me where the house is.

Let’s head off!" The cat saw the dog was not as stupid as he looked, so the cat held me in his mouth
by my tail and sprang through the window. Off they ran down the alleyway. I was jostled around,
but hey, I was still alive.

Luckily, we were not far from the ring’s location. Inside we could see a man and woman, both well-
fed and happy. The dog said, "We've come to the right place. Hopefully, she takes the ring off
tonight." The cat prowled around, finding a tiny hole near a window. "You go in," she said, "and
bring back the ring if you value your pathetic mousey life." In I went, and although mice aren’t
equipped with a nose for gold, I was able to spot the ring glinting in the moonlight. The lady left it
on the table with her other jewelry.

I seized the ring in my mouth and slipped back out again. "Here it is," I said to the cat. "Say
goodbye to this cruel world, little mouse," replied the cat, with claws flashing in the moonlight. I
trembled for my life, but the dog woofed,

"Stop right there, cat. We must keep our word." We returned to the town.
This time, the cat went over the rooftops while the dog ran down the alleyways. I went home to my
nest for a good sleep.

A few weeks later, I was going past the house where the cat and the dog lived.

I looked through the window. The human couple was having a feast, and the

cat had put on weight. "So," I thought, "the magic ring truly does prevent hunger." I too deserved a
reward for my daring part in the rescue of the ring, so I decided to slip inside for some crumbs.
Around the back of the house, I found the dog tied up, more miserable than ever. "What's
happened?" I asked, "The house is full of food. Why aren't you tucking in?"

The dog whined. "Aroooo! That filthy lying cat! She ran to the house before me and sprang onto
our owners' bed, waking them with the great gift of the ring. Oh, how delighted they were! She is
rewarded every day, but they punish me. They think I'm just a smelly, useless animal. I'm lucky if
they remember to throw me a scrap. GRRRRRRR! I shall hate that cat until the day I die, and so
shall all my puppies hate all cats forever!"