The Book of Stories for the Story-teller Part 2

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Then he cut open the bag with his sharp teeth, and the little old woman hopped out and ran home; but Turpie got inside the bag to hide.

When night came, the Hobyahs woke up, and they went to the bag, and they poked it with their fingers, crying:

"Look you! Look you!"

But out of the bag jumped little dog Turpie, and he ate every one of the Hobyahs. And that is why there are not any Hobyahs now.

_How the Sun, the Moon, and the Wind went out to Dinner_[3]

f.a.n.n.y E. COE

Once upon a time the Sun, the Moon, and the Wind went to dine with their uncle and aunt, the Thunder and the Lightning. They said good-bye to their mother, the Evening Star, crossed the great dark arching sky, and came to the deep cave where live Thunder and Lightning.

[Footnote 3: A folk-story of India.]

Here a wonderful feast was spread, and all sat down to enjoy it.

Now the Sun and the Wind were very greedy. They bent their heads low over their plates and they ate and ate of every dish that was pa.s.sed to them. They thought of nothing but themselves and the good food before them.

But the Moon remembered her mother at home. Of every delicious dish she saved a portion for the Star.

At last the evening was over and they returned to their home.

"Well, my children, what have you brought to me?" asked their mother, the Star.

"I have brought you nothing," said the Sun. "I was having a jolly evening with my friends, and, of course, I couldn't fetch a dinner to you!"

"Neither have I brought you anything, mother!" said the Wind. "How it would have looked to be taking double portions of every dis.h.!.+"

Then the Moon stepped forward. "Bring a plate, mother, for see!" She opened her hands and showered down rich fruit and delicious cakes which she had saved for her mother.

Then the Star turned to the Sun and said: "Because you forgot your mother at home, in the midst of your selfish pleasures, this is your doom. You shall burn, and burn, and burn with great heat, and men shall hate you. They shall cover their heads when you appear and seek the spots where your heat cannot beat upon them."

And that is why the Sun is so hot even to-day.

Then the Star turned to the Wind and said: "Because you also forgot your mother at home, in the midst of your selfish pleasures, this is your doom. You shall blow, blow, blow the hot sand and dust before you until men shall hate you. They shall flee from your face to the cool hills and even to faraway lands where the trees and gra.s.s are not parched and shrivelled by your fiery breath."

And that is why the Wind in the hot weather is so disagreeable.

Then the Star turned to the Moon and said: "Because you thought of your mother, in the midst of your happiness, receive my blessing.

Henceforth your light shall be so soft, so cool, and so silvery, that all men shall delight in you and your beams. They shall seek to have you smile with favour upon all their loves and all their plans. They shall call you blessed."

And that is why the light of the Moon is so cool, and so bright, and so beautiful to this very day.

_A Legend of the North Wind_

MARY CATHERINE JUDD

North wind likes a bit of fun as dearly as a boy does, and it is with boys he likes best to play.

One day, North Wind saw a brave little fellow eating his lunch under a tree. Just as he went to bite his bread, North Wind blew it out of his hand and swept away everything else that he had brought for his lunch.

"You hateful North Wind!" cried the little fellow. "Give me back my supper, I'm so hungry."

Now North Wind, like all brave beings, is n.o.ble, and so he tried to make up for the mischief he had done.

"Here, take this tablecloth," said North Wind, "and in whatever house you stay, spread it on the table; then wish, and you shall have everything you wish for to eat."

"Thank you!" said the boy, and he took the tablecloth and ran as fast as he could to the first house, which proved to be an inn.

"I have enough to pay for lodging, so I'll stay all night," he said to himself.

"Bring me a table," he ordered the innkeeper, as he went to his room.

"Ha! ha!" laughed the innkeeper. "You mean bring me a supper."

"No, I don't. I want only a table and that right quick. I'm hungry."

The innkeeper brought the table, but after the door was shut he watched through the keyhole to see what would happen.

"Beans, bread and bacon," ordered the boy, as he spread out his tablecloth. On came beans, bread and bacon through the open window, whirled in by North Wind. Smoking hot they all were, too, for the dishes were tightly covered. After supper was over, the boy fell sound asleep.

North Wind did not waken him as the innkeeper took the table and the tablecloth and carried them downstairs. Next morning the boy was hungry again, but there was no tablecloth and so no breakfast.

"You are a cheat, North Wind; you have taken back your tablecloth."

"No," said North Wind, "that is not the sort of thing I do." But the boy did not get his tablecloth.

After a time North Wind met him again out under the trees.

"This time I will give you a sheep," he said. "Each time that you rub his wool, out will drop a gold-piece. Take care of him."

The boy ran back and found the sheep at the door of the stable, behind the inn. He caught the sheep by a strap which was round its neck, and led it slowly up the stairs of the inn, to the room from which the tablecloth had disappeared the night before.

As the boy was hungry for his breakfast, he obeyed North Wind's command and patted the sheep upon its back. A gold-piece fell out of its fleece upon the floor.

"Good old North Wind!" said the boy. "Here's my breakfast and some hay for my sheep. Come breakfast, come hay," and through the open window came first a bundle of hay, and then a fine breakfast for the hungry boy. After breakfast, the boy paid for a week's lodging with the gold-piece.

He slept soundly that night with his sheep for a pillow, and the next night also, but the third morning, when the boy awoke, his head lay upon the floor and the sheep was gone.

Perhaps too many gold-pieces had been seen in the boy's hand, for he had patted his sheep very often.

The Book of Stories for the Story-teller Part 2

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The Book of Stories for the Story-teller Part 2 summary

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