 The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant's garden. It was a large, lovely garden with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach trees that in the springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. How happy we are here! they cried to each other. One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend, the Cornish Ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over, he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived, he saw the children playing the garden. What are you doing here? He cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away. My own garden is my own garden, said the Giant. Anyone can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself. So he built a high wall all around it, and put up a notice board. Trespassers will be prosecuted. He was a very selfish Giant. The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander around the high wall when the lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside. How happy we were there, they said to each other. Then the spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the selfish Giant it was still winter. The birds did not care to sing in it, as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the snow and the frost. Spring has forgotten this garden, they cried, so we will live here all the year round. The snow covered up the grass with a great white cloak, and the frost painted all the tree silver. Then they invited the north wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney parts down. This is a delightful spot, he said. We must ask the hail on a visit. So the hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle, till he broke most of the slate, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice. I cannot understand why the spring is so late and coming, said the selfish giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at this cold white garden. I hope there will be a change in the weather. But the spring never came, nor the summer. The autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the giant's garden she gave none. He is too selfish, she said. So it was always winter there, and the north wind and the hail and the frost and the snow danced about through the trees. One morning the giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the king's musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window. But it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the hail stopped dancing over his head, and the north wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement. I believe the spring has come at last, said the giant, and he jumped out of bed and looked out. What did he see? He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crapped in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child, and the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all around it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the north wind was blowing and roaring above it. Climb up, little boy, said the tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could, but the boy was too tiny. And the giant's heart melted as he looked out. How selfish I have been, he said. Now I know why the spring would not come here. I will put that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever. He was really very sorry for what he had done. So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite sadly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him, they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the giant coming. And the giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the giant's neck and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the spring. It is your garden now, little children, said the giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o'clock, they found the giant playing with the children and the most beautiful garden they had ever seen. All day long they played, and in the evening they came to the giant to bid him good-bye. But where is your little companion, he said, the boy I put into the tree. The giant loved him the best because he had kissed him. We don't know, answered the children, he has gone away. You must tell him to be sure and come here tomorrow, said the giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived and had never seen him before, and the giant felt very sad. Every afternoon when school was over, the children came and played with the giant. But the little boy whom the giant loved was never seen again. The giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend and often spoke of him. How I would like to see him, he used to say. Years went over and the giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair and watched the children at their games and admired his garden. I have many beautiful flowers, he said, but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all. One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the winter now, for he knew that it was merely the spring asleep and that the flowers were resting. Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden and silver fruit hung down from them and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved. Downstairs ran the giant in great joy and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass and came near to the child. And when he came quite close, his face grew red with anger and he said, Who has dared to wound thee? For on the palms of the child's hands were the prince of two nails and the prince of two nails were on the little feet. Who has dared to wound thee? cried the giant. Tell me that I may take my big sword and slay him. Nay, answered the child, but these are the wounds of love. Who art thou? said the giant, and the strange awe fell on him and he knelt before the little child. And the child smiled on the giant and said to him, You let me play once in your garden. Today you shall come with me to my garden, which is paradise. And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the giant lying dead under the tree or covered with white blossoms. The tale of the selfish giant. He went to town by mistake in a hamper. The gardener sent vegetables to town once a week by carrier. He packed them up in a big hamper. The gardener left the hamper by the garden gate so that the carrier could pick it up when he passed. Timmy Willie crept in through a hole in the wicker work and after eating some peas, Timmy Willie fell fast asleep. He awoke in a fright while the hamper was being lifted into the carrier's cart. Then there was a jolting and a clattering of horses feet. The packages were thrown in. For miles and miles, jolt, jolt, jolt, and Timmy Willie trembled amongst the jumbled up vegetables. At last the cart stopped at a house where the hamper was taken out, carried in, and set down. The cook gave the carrier six pence. The back door banged and the cart rumbled away. But there was no quiet. There seemed to be hundreds of carts passing. Dogs barked, boys whistled in the street. They laughed, the parlor maid ran up and down stairs, and a canary sang like a steam engine. Timmy Willie, who had lived all his life in a garden, was almost frightened to death. Presently the cook opened the hamper and began to unpack the vegetables. Out sprang the terrified Timmy Willie. Up jumped the cook on a chair, exclaiming, A mouse! A mouse! Called Cat! Fetch me the poker, Sarah! Timmy Willie did not wait for Sarah with the poker. He rushed along the skirting board till he came to a little hole, and in he popped. He dropped half a foot and crashed into the middle of a mouse dinner party, raking three glasses. Who in the world is this? inquired Johnny Town Mouse. But after the first exclamation of surprise, he instantly recovered his manners. With the utmost politeness he introduced Timmy Willie to nine other mice, all with long tails and white neckties. Willie's own tail was insignificant. Johnny Town Mouse and his friends noticed it, but they were too well-bred to make personal remarks. Only one of them asked Timmy Willie if he'd ever been in a trap. The dinner was of eight courses. Not much of anything, but truly elegant. All the dishes were unknown to Timmy Willie, who would have been a little afraid of tasting them, only he was very hungry and very anxious to behave with company manners. The continual noise upstairs made him so nervous that he dropped a plate. Never mind, they don't belong to us, said Johnny. Why don't those youngsters come back with the dessert? It should be explained that two young mice, who were waiting on the others, went skirmishing upstairs to the kitchen between courses. Several times they'd come tumbling in, squeaking and laughing. Timmy Willie learned with horror that they were being chased by the cat. His appetite failed. He felt faint. Try some jelly, said Johnny Town Mouse. No. Would you rather go to bed? I'll show you a most comfortable sofa pillow. The sofa pillow had a hole in it. Johnny Town Mouse quite honestly recommended it as the best bed kept exclusively for visitors, but the sofa smelled of cat. Timmy Willie preferred to spend a miserable night under the fender. It was just the same the next day. An excellent breakfast was provided for mice accustomed to eat bacon, but Timmy Willie had been reared on roots and salad. Johnny Town Mouse and his friends racketed about under the floors and came boldly all over the house in the evening. One particularly loud crash had been caused by Sarah tumbling downstairs with the tea tray. There were crumbs and sugar and smears of jam to be collected in spite of the cat. Timmy Willie longed to be at home in his peaceful nest in a sunny bank. The food disagreed with him. The noise prevented him from sleeping. In a few days, he grew so thin that Johnny Town Mouse noticed it and questioned him. He listened to Timmy Willie's story and inquired about the garden. It sounds a rather dull place. What do you do when it rains? When it rains, I sit in my little sandy burrow and shell corn and seeds from my autumn store. I peep out at the thrussels and blackbirds on the lawn and my friend Cock Robin. And when the sun comes out again, you should see my garden and the flowers. Roses and pinks and pansies. No noise except the birds and bees and the lambs and the meadows. There goes that cat again, exclaimed Johnny Town Mouse. When they'd taken refuge in a coal cellar, he resumed the conversation. I confess I'm a little disappointed. We've endeavored to entertain you, Timothy William. Oh, yes, yes, you've been most kind. But I do feel so ill, said Timmy Willie. It may be that your teeth and digestion are unaccustomed to our food. Perhaps it might be wiser for you to return in the hamper. Oh, oh! cried Timmy Willie. Why, of course. For the matter of that, we could have sent you back last week, said Johnny rather huffily. Did you not know that the hamper goes back empty on Saturdays? So Timmy Willie said goodbye to his new friends and hid in the hamper with a crumb of cake in a withered cabbage leaf. And after much jolting, he was set down safely in his own garden. Sometimes on Saturdays he went to look at the hamper lying by the gate, but he knew better than to get in again. And nobody got out. The Johnny Town Mouse had half-promised a visit. The winter passed. The sun came out again. Timmy Willie sat by his burrow, warming his little fur coat and sniffing the smell of violets and spring grass. He'd nearly forgotten his visit to town, when up the sandy path, all spick and span with a brown leather bag, came Johnny Town Mouse. Timmy Willie received him with open arms. You've come at the best of all the year. We will have her putting and sit in the sun. Hmm! It is a little damp, said Johnny Town Mouse, who was carrying his tail under his arm out of the mud. What is that fearful noise? He started violently. That, said Timmy Willie, that is only a cow. I will beg a little milk. They're quite harmless unless they happen to lie down upon you. How are all of our friends? Johnny's account was rather middling. He explained why he was paying his visit so early in the season. The family had gone to the seaside for Easter. The cook was doing spring cleaning on board wages, with particular instructions to clear out the mice. There were four kittens and the cat had killed the canary. They say we did it, but I know better, said Johnny Town Mouse. Whatever is that fearful racket? That is only the lawnmower. I will fetch some of the grass clippings presently to make your bed. I'm sure you would better settle in the country, Johnny. Hmm! We shall see by Tuesday week. The hamper has stopped while they're at the seaside. I'm sure you will never want to live in town again, said Timmy Willie. But he did. He went back in the very next hamper of vegetables. He said it was too quiet. One place suits one person, another place suits another person. For my part, I prefer to live in the country like Timmy Willie. End of The Tale of Johnny Town Mouse. Recording by Heather Phillips. The Wolf and the Lamb by Horace E. Scutter. This is a live or box recording. All live or box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit liveorbox.org. Recording by Robin Clark. The Wolf and the Lamb. As a wolf was lapping at the head of a running bird, he spied a stray lamb, paddling at some distance down the stream. Having made up his mind to seize her, he befought himself how he might justify his violence. Villains said he running up to her. How dare you meddle the water that I am drinking? Indeed, said the lamb humbly, I do not see how I can disturb the water since it runs from you to me, not from me to you. Be that as it may, replied the wolf. It was but a year ago that you called me many ill names. Oh, sir, said the lamb humbly, a year ago I was not born. Well, replied the wolf, if it was not you, it was your father, and that is all the same. But it's no use trying to argue me out of my supper and without another word, he fell upon a poor, helpless lamb and tore her to pieces. The end of the wolf and the lamb, recording by Robin Clark. The lion and the mouse, an esoph's fable. This is a library box recording. All library box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit librarybox.org. Recording by Robin Clark. The lion and the mouse. Once when the lion was asleep, a little mouse began running up and down upon him. This soon awakened the lion, who placed his huge paw upon him and opened his big jaws to swallow him. Pardon, no king, cried the little mouse. Forgive me this time, I shall never forget it. Who knows, but what I may be able to do, you return some of these days. The lion was so tickled at the idea of the mouse being able to help him that he lifted up his paw and let him go. Some time after the lion was caught in a trap and the hunters who desired to carry him alive to the king tied him to a tree while they went in search of a wagon to carry him on. Just then the little mouse happened to pass by and seeing the sad flight in which the lion was went up to him and soon gnawed away the ropes that bound the king of the beasts. Was I not right? said the little mouse. Little friends may prove great friends. We end recording by Robin Clark.