 Section 87 of childhood favorites and fairy stories. This is the LibriBox recording. All LibriBox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriBox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson. Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 87. The Chatterbox. From morning to night was Lucy's delight to chatter and talk without stopping. There was not a day but she rattled away like water for ever a dropping. As soon as she rose whilst she put on her clothes it was vain to endeavor to still her. Nor once did she lack to continue her clack till again she lay down on her pillow. You'll think now perhaps there would have been gaps if she hadn't been wonderful clever, that her sense was so great and so witty her fate that it would be forthcoming for ever. But that's quite absurd, for have you not heard, much tongue and few brains are connected, that they are supposed to think least who taught most, and their wisdom is always suspected. While Lucy was young had she bridled her tongue with a little good sense and exertion? Who knows, but she might have been our delight instead of our jest and aversion. End of Section 87. Section 88 of Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ruth Golding. Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 88. The Voice of Spring. I come, I come. You have called me long. I come o'er the mountains with light and song. You may trace my steppe o'er the waking earth, by the winds which tell of the violet's birth, by the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, by the green leaves opening as I pass. I have breathed on the south, and the chestnut flowers by thousands have burst from the forest-bowers, and the ancient graves and the fallen faines are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains, but it is not for me in my hour of bloom to speak of the ruin or the tomb. I have looked o'er the hills of the stormy north, and the larch has hung all his tassels forth. The Fisher is out on the sunny sea, and the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, and the pine has a fringe of softer green, and the moss looks bright where my steppe has been. I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, and called out each voice of the deep blue sky, from the night birds lay through the starry time, in the groves of the soft Hesperian climb, to the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, when the dark fur branch into verdure breaks. From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain, they are sweeping on to the silvery main, they are flashing down from the mountain-brows, they are flinging spray o'er the forest-bowers, they are bursting fresh from their spary caves, and the earth resounds with the joy of waves. Felicia Dorothea Heemans End of section 88, recording by Ruth Golding Section 89 of Childhood Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ralph Snelson Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors Section 89. The History Lesson There was a monkey climbed up a tree. When he fell down, then down fell he. There was a crow set on a stone. When he was gone, then there was none. There was an old wife, did eat an apple. When she had eat two, she had eat a couple. There was a horse going to the mill. When he went on, he stood, not still. There was a butcher cut his thumb. When it did bleed, then blood did come. There was a lackey ran a race. When he ran fast, he ran a pace. There was a cobbler clouting shun. When they were mended, they were done. There was a chandler making candle. When he then strep, he did them handle. There was a navy went into Spain. When it returned, it came again. End of Section 89. Section 90 of Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Carolyn Francis Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors Section 90, Song of Life by Charles McKay A traveler on a dusty road strewed acorns on the lee and one took root and sprouted up and grew into a tree. Love sought its shade at evening time to breathe its early vows and age was pleased in heights of noon to bask beneath its vows. The doormouse loved its dangling twigs, the bird's sweet music bore. It stood a glory in its place, a blessing ever more. A little spring had lost its way amid the grass and fern. A passing stranger scooped a well where weary men might turn. He walled it in and hung with care a ladle on the brink. He thought not of the deed he did, but judged that toil might drink. He passed again and lo, the well, by summer never dried, had cooled ten thousand parched tongues and saved a life beside. A nameless man amid the crowd that throng the daily mart let fall a word of hope and love unstudied from the heart. A whisper on the tumult throne, a transitory breath. It raised a brother from the dust, it saved a soul from death. O germ, O font, O word of love, O thought at random cast, ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last. THE GOOD TIME COMING There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. We may not live to see the day, but earth shall glisten in the ray of the good time coming. Cannonballs may aid the truth, but thoughts a weapon stronger. We'll win our battle by its aid, wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. The pen shall supersede the sword, and right, not might, shall be the lord in the good time coming. Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind, and be acknowledged stronger. The proper impulse has been given. Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. War, in all men's eyes, shall be a monster of iniquity in the good time coming. Nations shall not quarrel then to prove which is the stronger, nor slaughter men for glory's sake. Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. Hateful rivalries of creed shall not make their martyrs bleed in the good time coming. Religions shall be shorn of pride, and flourish all the stronger. And charity shall trim her lamp. Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. And a poor man's family shall not be his misery in the good time coming. Every child should be a help to make his right arm stronger. The happier he, the more he has. Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. Little children shall not toil under or above the soil in the good time coming. But shall play in healthful fields till limbs and mind grow stronger. And everyone shall read and write, wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. The people shall be temperate and shall love instead of hate in the good time coming. They shall use and not abuse and make all virtue stronger. The reformation has begun. Wait a little longer. Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, a good time coming. Let us aid it all we can. Every woman, every man, the good time coming. Smallest helps, if rightly given, make the impulse stronger. It will be strong enough one day. Wait a little longer. End of section 91. Section 92 of Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Vera Unveil. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Many nights. Whenever the moon and stars are set, whenever the wind is high, all night long and dark and damp, a man goes riding by. Late at night when the fires are out, why does he gallop and gallop about? Whenever the trees are crying out and ships at us at sea, by on the highway low and now, by the gallop goes he, by the gallop he goes, and then by he comes back at the gallop again. End of many nights. Section 93 of Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Carolyn Francis. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 93. The Wonderful World by William Brydie Rands. Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world with the wonderful water round you curled and the wonderful grass upon your breast, world you are beautifully dressed. The wonderful air is over me and the wonderful wind is shaking the tree. It walks on the water and whirls the mills and talks to itself on the top of the hills. You friendly earth, how far do you go with the wheat fields that gnawed and the rivers that flow with cities and gardens and cliffs and aisles and people upon you for thousands of miles? Ah, you are so great and I am so small. I hardly can think of you, world, at all. And yet, when I said my prayers today my mother kissed me and said quite gay if the wonderful world is great to you and great to father and mother too you are more than the earth though you are such a dot you can love and think and the earth cannot. End of Section 93. Section 94 of Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the box. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 94. Hark, Hark, the Lark. Hark, Hark, the Lark at Heaven's Gate sings and Phoebus skins arise his steeds to water at those springs and chalice flowers that lies and rinking merry buds begin to op their golden eyes with everything that pretty bin my ladies sweet arise, arise, arise. William Shakespeare. End of Section 94. Section 95 of Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 95. Jog on, jog on. Jog on, jog on the footpath way and merrily hint the style A. A merry heart goes all the day. Your sad tires in a mile A. William Shakespeare. End of Section 95. Section 96. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 96. Sweet Story of Old. I think when I read that sweet story of old when Jesus was here among men how he called little children as lambs to his fold I should like to have been with them then. I wish that his hands had been placed on my head that his arm had been thrown around me and that I might have seen his kind look when he said look the little ones come unto me yet still to his footstool in prayer I may go and ask for share in his love and if I thus earnestly seek him below I shall see him and hear him above. In that beautiful place he has gone to prepare for all who are washed and forgiven and many dear children shall be with him there for of such is the kingdom of heaven. But thousands and thousands who wander and fall never heard of that heavenly home I wish they could know there is room for them all and that Jesus had bid them to come. Jemima Luke. End of Section 96. Section 97. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 97. My Shadow. I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me and what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head and I see him jump before me when I jump into my bed. The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow not at all like proper children which is always very slow for he sometimes shoots up taller like an India rubber ball and he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all. He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play and can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. He stays so close beside me he's a coward you can see. I'd think shame to stick to nursing as that shadow sticks to me. One morning very early before the sun was up I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup but my lazy little shadow like an errant sleepyhead had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. Robert Louis Stevenson. End of section 97. Section 98, Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 98. By Cool Siloam's Shady Real. By Cool Siloam's Shady Real how sweet the lily grows, how sweet the breath beneath the hill of Sharon's dewy rose, lo such the child whose early feet the paths of peace have trod, whose secret heart with influence sweet is upward drawn to God. By Cool Siloam's Shady Real the lily must decay. The rose that blooms beneath the hill must shortly fade away and soon too soon the wintry hour of man's mature age will shake the soul with sorrow's power and stormy passions rage. O thou whose infant feet were found within thy father's shrine, whose years with changeless virtue crowned were all alike divine. Dependent on thy bounteous breath we seek thy grace alone in childhood, manhood, age and death to keep us still thine own. Reginald Herber. End of Section 98. Section 99. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 99. The Wind in a Frog. The wind one morning sprang up from sleep, saying, now for a frolic, now for a leap, now for a madcap galloping chase, I'll make a commotion in every place. So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, creaking the signs and scattering down shutters and whisking with merciless squalls, old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls, there never was heard a much lustier shout as the apples and oranges tumbled about, and the urchins that stand with their thievish eyes forever on watch ran off each with a prize. Then away to the fields it went blustering and humming, and the cattle all wondered, whatever was coming, it plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows, and tossed and the colts' mains all about their brows, till offended at such a familiar salute they all turned their backs and stood silently mute. So on it went capering and playing its pranks, whistling at with reeds on the broad river banks, puffing the birds as they sat on the spray or a traveler grave on the king's highway. It was not too nice to bustle the bags of the beggar and flutter his dirty rags, to as so bold that it feared not to play its joke with the doctor's wig and the gentleman's cloak. Through the forest it roared and cried gaily, now you sturdy old oaks I'll make you bow, and it made them bow without more ado, or it cracked their great branches through and through. Then it rushed like a monster or cottage and farm, striking their inmates with sudden alarm, and they ran out like bees in the Midsummer's swarm. There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps to see if their poultry were free from mishaps. The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, and the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd. There was rearing of ladders and logs laying on, where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone. But the wind had passed on and had met in a lane with a schoolboy who panted and struggled in vain. For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed and he stood with his hat in a pool and his shoe in the mud. William Howatt End of Section 99 Section 100 Childhood's Favorites and Very Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites and Very Stories by various authors, Section 100 The Graves of a Household They grew in beauty side by side. They filled one home with glee. Their graves are severed far and wide by mount and stream and sea. The same fond mother bent at night for each fair sleeping brow. She had each folded flower in sight. Where are those sleepers now? One midst the forest of the West by a dark stream is laid. The Indian knows his place of rest far in the cedar shade. The sea the blue lone sea hath won. He lies where pearls lie deep. He was the loved of all yet none before his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are dressed above the noble slain. He wrapped the colors round his breast on a blood-red field of Spain. And one, or her, the myrtle showers its leaves by soft winds fanned. She faded midst Italian flowers. The last of that fair band. And parted thus they rest who played beneath the same green tree, whose voices mingled as they prayed around one parent knee. They that with smiles lit up the hall and cheered with song the hearth. Alas for love if thou were't all and not beyond o'er. Felicia Dorothea Haymans End of section 100 Section 101. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 101. We are seven. In every limb, what should it know of death? I met a little cottage girl. She was eight years old, she said. Her hair was thick with many a curl that clustered round her head. She had a rustic woodland air and she was wildly clad. Her eyes were bright and very fair. Her beauty made me glad. Sisters and brothers, little maid, wondering looked at me. And where are they, pray you tell? She answered, seven are we and two of us, Conway Dwell and two are gone to sea. Two of us in the churchyard lie my sister and my brother and in the churchyard cottage I dwell near them with my mother. You say that two at Conway Dwell I pray you tell, sweet maid, how this may be? Then did the little maid reply, Seven boys and girls are we Two of us in the churchyard lie Beneath the churchyard tree You run about my little maid Your limbs they are alive If two are in the churchyard laid Then ye are only five. Wraves are green, they may be seen The little maid replied, Twelve steps or more from my mother's door And they are side by side. My stockings there I often knit My kerchief there I hem And there upon the ground I sit I sit and sing to them And often after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, The first that died was little Jane In bed she moaning lay Till God released her of her pain And then she went away. So in the churchyard she was laid And when the grass was dry Together around her grave we played My brother John and I And when the ground was white with snow And I could run and slide By her side. How many are you, then, said I? If they two are in heaven The little maid did reply, Oh, master, we are seven. But they are dead, these two are dead. Their spirits are in heaven. Was throwing words away, Still the little maid would have her well And said, Nay, we are seven. William Wordsworth Section 102 Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 102 The Better Land I hear the speak of the Better Land That caused its children a happy band. Mother, oh, where is that radiant shore? Shall we not seek it and weep no more? Is it where the flower of the orange blows And the fireflies dance through the myrtle bow? Not there, not there, my child. Is it where the feathery palm trees rise And the date grows right under sunny skies? Or midst the green islands of glittering seas Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze And strange bright birds on their starry wings Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there, not there, my child. Is it far away in some region old Where the rivers wander or sands of gold? Where the burning rays of the rubies shine And the diamond lights up the secret mine? And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother, that Better Land? Not there, not there, my child. I hath not seen it, my gentle boy. Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy. Dreams cannot picture a world so fair. Sorrow and death may not enter there. Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom. For beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb It is there, it is there, my child. Felicia Dorothea Haman Childhood's favorites and fairy stories By various authors, section 103 The Juvenile Orator You'd scarce expect one of my age To speak in public on the stage, And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero Don't view me with a critic's eye But pass my imperfections by Large streams from little fountains flow Tall oaks from little acorns grow And though I now am small and young Of judgment weak and feeble tongue Yet all great learned men, like me Once learned to read their ABC And why may not Columbia's soil Rear men as great as Britain's Isle Exceed what Greece and Rome have done Or any land beneath the sun Maint Massachusetts prove as great As any other sister state? Or where's the town go far or near That does not find a rival here? Or where's the boy but three feet high Who's made improvement more than I? Those thoughts inspire my youthful mind To be the greatest of mankind Great, not like Caesar, same with blood But only great as I am good David Everett End of section 103 Section 104 of Childhood Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ralph Snelson Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories By various sources Section 104 The Fox and the Crow A Fable The Fox and the Crow in prose I well know Many good little girls can rehearse Perhaps it will tell pretty nearly as well If we try the same fable in verse In a dairy a crow having ventured to go Some food for her young ones to seek Flew up in the trees With a fine piece of cheese Which she joyfully held in her beak A fox who lived by to the tree Saw her fly and a share in the prize Made a bow. For having just dined He for cheese felt inclined So he went and sat under the bow She was cunning he knew But so was he too And with flattery adapted his plan For he knew if she'd speak It must fall from her beak So bowing politely began It is a very fine day Not a word did she say The wind I believe, ma'am, is south A fine harvest for peas He then looked at the cheese But the crow did not open her mouth Sly Rainard not tired It's you. The voice must be fine Of a bird so divine Let me just hear it, pray do Believe me I long to hear a sweet song The silly crow foolishly tries She scarce gave one squall When the cheese she let fall And the fox ran away with the prize Moral, ye innocent fair Of cox cones beware To flattery never give ear Try well each pretense And keep to plain sense And then you have little to fear End of section 104 Section 105 Of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibraVox recording All LibraVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibraVox.org Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors Section 105 The Use of Flowers God might have bade the earth bring forth Enough for great and small The oak tree and the cedar tree Without a flower at all We might have had enough, enough For every want of ours For luxury, medicine and toil And yet have had no flowers The ore within the mountain mine Requires none to grow Nor doth it need the lotus flower To make the river flow The cloud might give abundant rain The nightly dews might fall And the herb that keepeth life and man Might yet have drunk them all Then where for, where for were they made All died with rainbow light All fashioned with supremist grace Upspringing day and night Springing in valleys green and low And on the mountain high And in the silent wilderness Where no man passes by Our outward life requires them not Then where for had they birth To minister delight to man To beautify the earth To comfort man To whisper hope When air his faith is dim For whoso careeth for the flowers Will much more care for him Mary how it End of section 105 Section 106 Of Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Childhoods Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors Section 106 Contented John One honest John Tompkins A hedger and ditcher Although he was poor Did not want to be richer For all such vain wishes In him were prevented When cold was the weather Or dear was the food John never was found in a murmuring mood For this he was consistently heard to declare What he could not prevent He would cheerfully bear For why should I grumble and murmur If I cannot get meat I can surely get bread And though fretting may make my calamities deeper It can never cause bread and cheese to be cheaper If John was afflicted Then he wished himself better But did not complain Nor lie down and fret And despondence and sorrow But said that he hoped to be better tomorrow If anyone wronged him Or tweeted him ill Why John was good-natured And sociable still For he said that revenging the injury done Would make two rogues When there need be but one And thus honest John Though a station was humble Passed through this sad world Of the rogues who are greater and richer Would copy John Tompkins The hedger and ditcher. End of Section 106 Recorded by David Lawrence July 2008 In Brampton, Ontario Section 107 Of Childhood Favorites And Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ralph Snelson Childhood Favorites And Fairy Stories By various authors Section 107 The old man's comforts And how he gained them You are old Father William The young man cried The few locks which are left You are gray You're hail, Father William A hearty old man The reason I pray In the days of my youth Father William replied I remembered That youth would fly fast And abuse not my health And my vigor at first That I never might need them at last You are old Father William The young man cried And pleasures with youth pass away And yet you lament Not the days that are gone Now tell me the reason I pray In the days of my youth Father William replied I remembered That youth could not last I thought of the future Whatever I did That I never might grieve for the past You are old Father William The young man cried And life must be hastening away You are cheerful And love to converse upon death Now tell me the reason I pray I am cheerful young man Father William replied I pay attention and gauge In the days of my youth I remembered my God And he hath not forgotten my age End of the old man's comforts And how he gained them Section 108 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors The Frost The Frost looked forth On a still clear night And whispered, Now I shall be out of sight So through the valley And over the height I'll silently take my way I will not go on like that Blustering train The wind and the snow The hail and the rain As easy as they He flew up and powdered the mountain's crest He lit on the trees and their bows he dressed With diamonds and pearls And over their breast Of quivering lake he spread A bright coat of mail That it not need fear The glittering point of many a spear That he hung on its margin Far and near Where a rock was rearing its head He went to the windows of those Who slept in over each pain Those beautiful things were seen By mornings for slight There were flowers and trees With bevvies of birds And swarms of bright bees There were cities, temples and towers and these All pictured in silvery sheen But one thing he did that was hardly fair He peeped in the cupboard and finding there That none had remembered him For him to prepare Now, just to set them a thinking I'll bite their rich basket of fruit Said he This burly old pitcher I'll burst it in three To tell them I'm drinking End of The Frost Section 109 Of Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Alex Booley Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories by various authors The Battle of Blenheim It was a summer evening Old Caspar's work was done And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun And by him sported on the green His little grandchild with Lameen She saw her brother Peterkin Rolled something large and round Which he, beside the rivulet In playing there had found He came to ask what he had found That was so large and smooth and round Old Caspar took it from the boy Who stood expectant by And then the old man took his head And with a natural sigh Tis some poor fellow's skull Said he who fell in the great victory I find them in the garden For there's many here about And often when I go to plow The plowshare turns them out For many thousand men said he Were slain in that great victory Now tell us what it was all about You know Peterkin he cries While little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder wading eyes Now tell us all about the war And what they killed each other for And what Caspar cried Who put the French to rout But what they killed each other for I could not well make out But everybody said quote he That was a famous victory My father lived at Buenheim then Young little stream hard by They burnt his dwelling to the ground And he was forced to fly So with his wife and child he fled Nor had he were to rest his head With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide And many a childing mother then Had died But things like that you know Must be at every famous victory They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun But things like that you know Must be after a famous victory Great prize the Duke of Marble 1 And our good Prince Eugene Why it was a very wicked thing Said little Wilhelmine Nay nay my little girl quote he It was a famous victory And what good came of it at last Quote little Peterkin Why that can I cannot tell He said he but it was a famous victory End of the Battle of Lenheim Section 110 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are In the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org This recording by Anna Roberts Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors Section 110 The Chameleon, a fable From M. Delamotte Often it has been my lot To mark a proud conceded talking spark With eyes that hardly served At most to guard their master Against a post Yet round the world the blade Has been to see whatever could be seen Returning from his finished tour Grown ten times perter than before Whatever word you chance to drop The traveled fool your mouth will stop Sir, if my judgment you'll allow I've seen and sure are out to know So begs you'd pay a due submission And acquiesce in his decision Two travelers of such a cast As or Arabia's wilds they passed And on their way in friendly chat Now talked of this and then of that Discourse to wild, amongst other matter Of the chameleon's form and nature A stranger animal, cries one Sure never lived beneath the sun A lizard's body, lean and long A fish's head, a serpent's tongue Its foot with triple claw disjoined And what a length of tail behind How slow its pace And then its hue Who ever saw so fine a blue Hold there, the other quick replies Disgreen, I saw it with these eyes As late with open mouthed lay And warmed it in the sunny ray Stretched at its ease The beast I viewed And saw it eat the air for food I've seen it, sir, as well as you And must again affirm it blue At leisure I the beast surveyed Extending in the cooling shade Disgreen, disgreen, sir, I assure you Green, cries the other, in a fury Why, sir, do you think I've lost my eyes? To her no great loss, the friend replies For if they always serve you thus You'll find them of but little use So high at last the contest rose From words they almost came to blows When luckily came by a third To him the question they referred And begged he tell him if he knew Whether the thing was green or blue Sirs, cries the umpire, cease your father The creatures neither one nor to other I caught the animal last night And viewed it or by candlelight I marked it well, it was black as jet You stare, but sirs, I've got it yet And can produce it, praise or do I'll lay my life, the thing is blue And I'll be sworn that when you've Seen the reptile you'll pronounce him green Well then at once to ease the doubt Replies the man, I'll turn him out And when before your eyes I've set him If you don't find him black I'll eat him He said then full before their sight Produced the beast and low It was white Both stared The man looked wondrous wise My children, the chameleon cries Then first the creature found a tongue You are all right and all are wrong When next you talk of what you view Think others see as well as you Nor wonder if you find that none Perfers your eyesight to his own James Merrick End of section 110 Section 111 The man looked wondrous wise The man looked wondrous wise Section 110 Section 111 Of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org This reading by Anna Roberts Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors Section 111 The Blackberry Girl Why Phoebe, are you come so soon Where are your berries, child? You cannot sure have sold them all You had a basket piled No, mother, as I climbed the fence The nearest way to town My apron caught upon the stake And so I tumbled down I scratched my arm and tore my hair But still did not complain And had my blackberries been safe Should not have cared a grain But when I saw them on the ground All scattered by my side I picked my empty basket up And down I sat and cried And then a pretty little miss Chanced to be walking by She stopped and looking pitiful She begged me not to cry Poor little girl, you fell, said she And must be sadly hurt Oh, no, I cried But see my fruit All mixed with sand and dirt Well, do not grieve for that, she said Go home and get some more Ah, no, for I have stripped the vines These were the last they bore My father miss is very poor And understall he has so many little ones He cannot clothe us all I always longed to go to church But never could I go For when I asked him for a gown He always answered, no There's not a father in the world That loves his children more I'd get you one with all my heart But Phoebe, I am poor But when the blackberries were ripe He said to me one day Phoebe, if you will take the time That's given you for play To buy your bonnet and your shoes I'll try to get a gown Oh, miss, I fairly jumped for joy My spirits were so light And so when I had left to play I picked with all my might I sold enough to get my shoes About a week ago And these, if they had not been spilt Would buy a bonnet too But now they're gone They all are gone And I can get no more And Sundays I must stay at home Just as I did before And looking up I saw a tear Was standing in her eye She caught her bonnet from her head Here, here, she cried, take this Oh, no indeed, I fear your ma Would be offended, miss My ma, no, never She delights all sorrow to beguile And tis the sweetest joy she feels To make the wretched smile She taught me when I had enough To share it with the poor And never let a needy child Go empty from the door So take it, for you need not fear My mother, too, at home And one's enough for me So then I took it, here it is And pray, what could I do? And, mother, I shall love that miss As long as I love you Unknown End of section 111 Section 112 Of Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org This is reading by Anna Roberts Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various artists Section 112 Mabel on Midsummer Day A Story of the Olden Time Part 1 Arise, my maiden Mabel The mother said Arise, for the golden sun of Midsummer Is shining in the skies Arise, my little maiden For thou must speed away To wait upon thy grandmother This live-long summer day This wheat and cake so fine This new-made pad of butter This little flask of wine And tell the dear old body This day I cannot come For the good man went out yesterday And he has not come home And more than this Poor Amy upon my knee doth lie I fear me with this fever pain The little child will die And thou canst help thy grandmother The table thou canst spread Canst feed the little dog and bird And thou canst make her bed Very well hard by And thou canst gather from the wood The faggots brown and dry Canst go down to the lonesome glen To milk the mother you This is thy work, my Mabel That thou wilt have to do But listen now, my Mabel This is Midsummer Day When all the fairy people From Elfland come away And when thou art in the lonesome glen Keep by the running burn And do not pluck the strawberry flower Nor break the lady fern And mischief should befall Think only of poor Amy And how thou lovest us all Yet keep good heart, my Mabel If thou the fairies see And give them kindly answer If they should speak to thee And when into the fir wood Thou goest for faggots brown Do not, like idle children Go wandering up and down But fill thy little apron, my child With earnest speed And that thou break no living bow Within the wood take heed Of this thing lest evil should be tied But think not, little Mabel, Whilst thou art in the wood Of dwarfish, willful brownies But of the father good And when thou goest to the spring To fetch the water thence Do not disturb the little stream Lest this should give offence For the queen of all the fairies She loves that water bright I've seen her drinking there myself On many a summer night But she's a gracious lady And her thou needs not fear Now all this I will heed, mother Will no word disobey And wait upon the grandmother The live long summer day Part two A way tripped little Mabel With the wheat and cake so fine With the new-made pad of butter And the little flask of wine And long before the sun was hot And the summer mist had cleared Beside the good old grandmother The willing child appeared And all her mother's message She told with right good will And then she swept the hearth up clean And then the table spread And next she fed the dog and bird And then she made the bed And go now, said the grandmother Ten paces down the dell And bring in water for the day Thou knowest the lady well The first time that good Mabel went Nothing at all saw she Except a bird, a sky-blue bird That sat upon a tree The next time that good Mabel went There sat a lady bright Beside the well a lady small And then she made the table And then she stopped to fill her Pitcher at the sparkling spring But no drop did she spill Thou art a handy maiden The fairy lady said Thou hast not spilt a drop Nor yet the fairy spring troubled And for this thing which thou hast Done yet mayst not understand I give to thee a better gift Than houses or than land Thou shalt do well whatever thou doest As thou hast done this day Shalt have the will and power And shalt be loved all way Thus having said she passed from sight And not could Mabel see But the little bird, the sky-blue bird Upon the leafy tree And now go, said the grandmother And fetch in faggots dry All in the neighboring fur-wood Beneath the trees they lie Away went kind good Mabel Into the fur-wood near Where all the ground was dry and brown And the grass grew thin and sear She did not wander up and down Nor yet a live branch pull But steadily of the fallen bows She picked her apron full And when the wild-wood brownies Came sliding to her mind She drove them thence as she was told With home-thought sweet and kind But all that while the brownies Within the fur-wood still They watched her how she picked The wood and strove to do no ill And, oh, but she is small and neat, Said one, to her shame to spite A creature so demure and meek A creature harmless quite Luck only, said another At her little gown of blue At her kerchief pinned about her head And at her little shoe Oh, but she is a comely child, Said a third, and we will lay A good luck penny in her path A boon for her this day Seeing she broke no living wood No live thing did a fray With that the smallest penny Of the finest silver oar Upon the dry and slippery path Lay Mabel's feet before With joy she picked the penny up And with her faggots dry and brown Went wandering from the wood Now she has that, said the brownies Let flax be ever so dear Dwell by her clothes of the very best For many and many a year And go now, said the grandmother Since falling is the dew Go down unto the lonesome glen And milk the mother you All down into the lonesome glen Through copes is thick and wild Through moist ranked grass By trickling streams went on And when she came to the lonesome glen She kept beside the burn And neither plucked the strawberry flower Nor broke the lady fern And while she milked the mother you Within this lonesome glen She wished that little Amy Were strong and well again And soon as she thought this thought She heard a coming sound As if a thousand fairy folk Were gathering all around And then she heard a little voice Shrill as the midges wing That spake aloud The fern is all unbroke The strawberry flower untain What shall be done for her Who still from mischief can refrain Give her a fairy cake, said one Grant her a wish, said three The latest wish that she hath wished Said all, whatever it be Kind Mabel heard the words they spake And from the lonesome glen Unto the good old grandmother Went gladly back again Thus it happened to Mabel On that mid-summer day Blessings she took with her away Does good to make all duty sweet To be alert and kind Does good, like little Mabel To have a willing mind Mary Howett End of section 112 Section 113 Of Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org This reading by Anna Roberts Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories By various artists Section 113 Llewellyn and His Dog The spearmen heard the bugle sound And cheerly smiled the morn And many a brock and many a hound Attend Llewellyn's horn And still he blew a louder blast And gave a louder cheer Come, Gellert, why art thou the last Llewellyn's horn to hear O where does faithful Gellert roam The flower of all his race So true, so brave, a lamb at home A lion in the chase That day Llewellyn little loved The chase of heart or hair And scant and small the booty proved For Gellert was not there Unpleased Llewellyn homeward hide When near the portal seat His truant Gellert he aspired Bounding his lord to greet But when he gained the castle door A gas the chieftain stood The hound was smeared with gouts of gore His lips and fangs ran blood Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise Unused such looks to meet His favorite checked his joyful guise And crouched and licked his feet Onward in haste Llewellyn passed And on went Gellert too And still, where ere his eyes were cast Fresh blood gouts shocked his view Or turned his infant's bed he found The blood-stained cover rent And all around the walls and ground With recent blood besprint He called his child And replied He searched with terror wild Blood, blood, he found on every side But nowhere found his child Hell hound, by thee my child's devoured The frantic father cried And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gellert's side His suppliant as to the earth he fell No pity could impart But still his Gellert's dying yell Past heavy or his heart Aroused by Gellert's dying yell Some slumber awakened nigh What words the parent's joy can tell To hear his infant's cry Concealed beneath a mangled heap His hurried search had missed All glowing from his rosy sleep His cherub boy he kissed Nor scratch had he nor harm nor dread But the same couch beneath Lay a great wolf all torn and dead Tremendous still in death Ah, what was then Llewellyn's pain For now the truth was clear The gallant hound the wolf had slain To save Llewellyn's air Vain, vain was all Llewellyn's woe Best of thy kind adieu The frantic deed which laid thee low This heart shall ever rue And now a gallant tomb they raised With costly sculpture decked And marbles storied with his praise Poor Gellert's bones protect Here never could the spearmen pass Or forester unmoved Here off the tear besprinkled grass Llewellyn's sorrow proved And here he hung his horn and spear And oft, as evening fell In fancies piercing sounds Would hear poor Gellert's dying yell William Robert Spencer End of section 113 Section 114 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is the LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org This reading by Anna Roberts Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories By various artists Section 114 The Snowbird's Song The ground was all covered with snow one day And two little sisters were busy at play When a snowbird was sitting close by On a tree and merrily singing His chicka-dee-dee Chicka-dee-dee-dee And merrily singing his chicka-dee-dee He had not been singing that tune very long Air Emily heard him so loud was his song Oh sister look out of the window Said she Here's a dear little bird singing chicka-dee-dee Chicka-dee-dee chicka-dee-dee Oh mother Do get him some stockings and shoes And a nice little frock and a hat if he chews I wish he'd come into the parlor And see how warm we would make him Poor chicka-dee-dee Chicka-dee-dee There is one my dear child Though I cannot tell who Has clothed me already and warm enough too Good morning, oh who are so happy as we And away he went singing his chicka-dee-dee Chicka-dee-dee chicka-dee-dee Francis C. Woodworth End of section 114 Section 115 Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Chris C. Childhood's Favorites And Fairy Stories by various authors Section 115 For a that and a that Is there for honest poverty What hangs his head and a that The coward slave we pass him by We dare be poor for a that For a that and a that Our toils obscure and a that The rank is but the guinea stamp The mans the god for a that What though on Hamley fair we dine Where a hot and gray and a that Gee-fools their silks and knaves their wine A mans a man for a that For a that and a that Their tinsel show and a that The honest man though air sepore Is king a man for a that Ye see young Berkey card a lord Was truts and struts and stares and a that Though hundreds worship at his word He's but a coup for a that For a that and a that His ribbon star and a that The man of independent mind He looks and laughs at a that A prince can mac a builted knight A Markey duke and a that But an honest mans a boon his might Good faith e mon a fa that A prince can mac a builted knight A Markey duke and a that For a that and a that Their dignities and a that The pith of sense and pride a worth Are higher ranks than a that Are higher ranks than a that Then let us pray that Comet may As Comet will for a that That sense and worth or all the earth May bear the grie and a that For a that and a that It's coming yet for a that When man to man the wealth or Shall brothers be for a that Robert Burns End of section 115 Section 116 Of Children's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Matt Bohnhoff Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories By various authors Section 116 The Goose that Laid Golden Eggs There was a man who once had A very handsome goose That always laid golden eggs Now he thought that there must be Some golden side of her So he rung her neck straight away And found that she was exactly Like all other geese He thought to find riches And lost what little he had The fable teaches That one who has anything Should be content with it And avoid covetousness Lest he lose what he has End of section 116 The Goose that Laid Golden Eggs Recording by Matt Bohnhoff Section 117 Of Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Joe Pillsbury Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories Section 117 The Boys and the Frogs Some boys playing near a pond Saw a number of frogs in the water And began to pelt them with stones They killed several of them When one of the frogs lifting His head out of the water cried out Pray stop my boys What is sport to you is death to us The moral of the story Is one man's pleasure May be another man's pain End of section 117 Recording by Joe Pillsbury Section 118 Of Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Joe Pillsbury Childhoods, Favorites and Fairy Stories Section 118 The Lion and the Mouse A small mouse crept up to a sleeping lion The mouse admired the lion's ears His long whiskers and his great mane Since he's sleeping before the mouse He'll never suspect I'm here With that the little mouse Climbed up onto the lion's tail Run across its back Slid down its leg and jumped off its paw The lion awoke Between its claws Please, said the mouse Let me go and I'll come back and help you some day The lion laughed You are so small, how could you ever help me The lion laughed so hard that he had to hold his belly The mouse jumped to freedom And ran until she was far, far away The next day Two hunters came to the jungle They went to the lion's lair And they set up a huge rope snare When the lion came home that night He stepped into the trap But he couldn't pull himself free The mouse heard the lion's pitiful roar And came back to help him The mouse eyed the trap And noticed the one thick rope That held it together She began nibbling and nibbling Until the rope broke The lion was able to shake off the other ropes And that held him tight He stood up free again The lion turned to the mouse and said Dear friend, I was foolish to ridicule you For being small In 18 Recording by Joe Pillsbury Section 119 Of Child's Favourites and Fairy Stories This is a Liberal Vox recording Our Liberal Vox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LiberalVox.org Recording by Vera Unreal Child's Favourites and Fairy Stories By various authors The fox and the grapes A hungry fox is covered By the roosters And the roosters Hiding from vines High up in a tree And as you gazed Long to get at them I could not So he left them hanging there And went off my train They are sour grapes And of the fox and the grapes Section 120 Of Child's Favourites and Fairy Stories This is a Liberal Vox recording All Liberal Vox recordings The Charter's favourites and fairy stories by various authors, Section 120, The Ox and the Frog. A young frog set out on his first adventure as he came out of the pond he saw a large ox grazing in the field. Having never before seen such a creature, he hopped excitedly to his father, the Bullfrog, and said, I've just seen the biggest frog in the world. Hmm, said the Bullfrog. Was he as big as me? And he puffed himself up. Much bigger than that, said the little frog. Was he this big, said the Bullfrog, puffing himself up even larger? Much, much bigger than you, said the little frog. Ridiculous, said the Bullfrog, who fancied himself much more important than he was. He couldn't be bigger than me, I'm the oldest frog in the pond. I was here first. Was he bigger than this? He puffed and puffed himself up so much. End of section 120, recording by Joe Pillsbury. Section 121 of Charter's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Joe Pillsbury. Charter's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 121, the Cat, the Monkey and the Chestnuts. One day, a cat and a monkey sat watching some chestnuts put into the fire to roast. How good they must be, said the monkey. I wish we had them. Oh, I'm sure you can get some out. Your paws are so much like hands. The cat was much pleased at these words. She put out her paw for the chestnuts. She took one out, but burned her paw. How well you did that, said the monkey. I'm sure you can get them all. So the poor cat pulled out the nuts one by one, burning her paw each time. At last they're all out, then she turned around, but only in time to see the monkey crack and eat the last of the nuts. So the poor cat had only burned her paw for her pains. The moral of the story is, a thief couldn't be trusted even by another thief. CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES BY VARIOUS AUTHORS SECTION 122 THE COUNTRY MADE AND HER MILK PAIL A country maid was walking slowly along with a pail of milk upon her head and thinking thus, THE MONEY FOR WHICH I SHALL SELL THIS MILK WILL BUY ME THREE HUNDRED EGGS. These eggs, allowing for what may prove addled, will produce at least 250 chickens. The chickens will be fit to carry to market about Christmas, when poultry always brings a good price, so that by May Day I shall have enough money to buy a new gown. Let me see, green suits me, yes it shall be green, in this dress I will go to the fair where all the young fellows will want me for a partner, but I shall refuse every one of them. By this time she was so full of her fancy that she tossed her head proudly, when overwent the pail which she had entirely forgotten, and all the milk was spilled on the ground. MORAL DON'T COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY ARE HATCHED. END OF SECTION 122 SECTION 123 OF CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES This is LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Joe Pillsbury. CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES by various authors. Section 123, The Ass and the Lion's Skin. An ass once found a lion's skin which the hunters had left out in the sun to try. He put it on and went towards his native village. All fled to his approach, both men and animals. And he was a proud ass that day. In his delight he lifted up his voice and braid, but then everyone knew him, and his owner came up and gave him a sound cuddling for the fright he had caused, and shortly afterwards a fox came up to him and said, Ah, I knew you by your voice. The moral of the story is, fine clothes may disguise, but silly words will disclose a fool. END OF SECTION 123 CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES by various authors. Section 123, The Ass and the Lion's Skin. CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES by various authors. Section 124, The Tortoise and the Hare. What a dull, heavy creature says the hare is this tortoise. And yet, says the tortoise, I'll run with you for a wager. Dunn says the hare, and then they asked the fox to be the judge. They started together and the tortoise kept jogging on still, till he came to the end of the course. The hare laid himself down midway and took a nap. Four says he, I can catch up with the tortoise when I please. But it seems he overslept himself, for when he came to wake, though he scutted away as fast as possible, the tortoise had got to the post before him and won the wager. CHILDHOOD'S FAVORITS AND FAIRY STORIES by various authors. Section 125, The Vane Jackador. Jupiter announced that he intended to appoint a king over the birds, and named it down which they were to appear before his throne, when he would select the most beautiful of them all to be their ruler. Wishing to look their best on the occasion they repaired to the bank of the stream, where they busied themselves in washing and preening their feathers. The Jackador was there along with the rest and realised that, with his ugly plumage, he would have no chance of being chosen as he was, so he waited till they were all gone and then picked up the most gaudy of the feathers they had dropped and fastened to his own body, with the result that I could look gayer than any of them. When the appointed day came, the birds assembled before Jupiter's throne, after passing them in a review, he was about to mount the Jackador king, and all the rest set upon the king select, stripped him of his borrowed plumes, and exposed him for the Jackador that he was. It's not only the fine feathers that make the fine birds. End of Section 125, Recording by Joe Pillsbury. Section 126 of Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories. This is LibraVox Recording, or LibraVox Recording to the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. Recording by Joe Pillsbury. Childhood's Favourites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 126, The Fox Without a Tail. One day, a fox was out walking when suddenly he had a loud snapping noise and felt a sharp pain in his rear. Ah! I have the fox, tears come into his eyes. That hurts, ow! The fox looked behind him and saw his tails caught in a trap. He struggled and struggled to get free, but his tail was firmly stuck in the jaws of the trap. With one last frantic effort, the fox used all of his strength and broke free. Ow! How the fox looked behind him and saw his tail still stuck in the trap. All he had left was a little stump on his backside. My tail, my beautiful fluffy tail, what will I do? He cried. How will I face all of the foxes without my beautiful tail? It'll be so embarrassing. The fox thought and thought and finally came up with the plan. He called all the other foxes together for a meeting. When the other foxes saw the little stump on his backside, they began to laugh. I've cut my tail off on purpose and I want you all to do the same. He yelled over the laughter. A large tail is much more trouble than it's worth, shouted. When we're being chased by dogs, it gets in the way and when we're together for a talk, you never know what to do with it. Do you wrap it around your feet? Do you sit on it? Or do you leave it out of someone to trip over? Asked the fox. Now is the time to free yourself from your tail and join me in the tail of society. One of the older foxes shook his head and said, you wouldn't be saying that if you still had a beautiful tail. You're only saying that of your own self-interest and because you're embarrassed. All the other foxes walked off laughing in their big bushy tails, proudly pointing upwards. The moral of the story is, do not trust someone with self-interest. End of section 126, recording by Joe Pillsbury. Section 127 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Clarica. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 127. The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing. A wolf put on the skin of a sheep and getting in among the flock by means of this disguise killed many of the sheep. The shepherd, who wondered why so many of his flock had disappeared, at last discovered the deceit. He fastened a rope cunningly round the pretended sheep's neck, led him to a tree, and there hanged him. Some other shepherds passing that way and seeing what they thought was a sheep hanging from a tree, said, What, brother, surely you do not hang sheep? No, answered the shepherd. But I hang wolves when I can catch them dressed up in sheepskins. Then he showed them their mistake, and they praised the justice of the deed he had done. End of section 127. Section 128 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Matt Bonehoff. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 128. The Crow and the Pitcher. A crow, whose throat was parched and dry with thirst, saw a pitcher in the distance. In great joy he flew to it, but found that it held only a little water, and even that was too near the bottom to be reached for all his stooping and straining. Next he tried to overturn the pitcher, thinking that he would at least be able to catch some of the water as it trickled out. But this he was not strong enough to do. In the end he found some pebbles lying near, and by dropping them one by one into the pitcher he managed at last to raise the water up to the very brim, and thus was able to quench his thirst. End of Section 128. The Crow and the Pitcher. Recording by Matt Bonehoff. Section 129 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. By various authors. Section 129. The Man, His Son, and His Ass. A man and his son were leading their ass to a market. A girl, seeing them, cried, Why walk when you can ride? On hearing this the man said his son upon the ass. Going further they heard an old man say, Shame for the young to ride while old people walk. Thereupon the man made his son get down and rode himself. Presently they met some women who cried, Look at the poor tired son and the lazy father. Hearing this the man took his son up beside him, and so they rode into the town. There a young man called to them, Two men on one beast. It seems to me you are more fit to carry the ass than he is to carry you. Then they got down, tied the beast's legs to a pole, and carried him thus till they came to a bridge. As they went the children shouted so loudly that the ass took fright, kicked his legs free, and jumped over the bridge into the river. Thus having lost his ass the man went home crying, Try to please everybody and you will please nobody, not even yourself. End of Section 129 Section 130 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Clarica. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 130 The Camel and the Pig A camel said, Nothing like being tall, See how tall I am. A pig who heard these words said, Nothing like being short, See how short I am. The camel said, Well if I fail to prove the truth of what I said, I will give you my hump. The pig said, If I fail to prove the truth of what I have said, I will give up my snout. A greed said the camel, Just so said the pig. They came to a garden and closed by a low wall without any opening. The camel stood on this side of the wall and reaching the plants within by means of his long neck made a breakfast on them. Then he turned jeeringly to the pig who had been standing at the bottom of the wall without even having a look at the good things in the garden and said, Now would you be tall or short? Next they came to a garden enclosed by a high wall with a wicked gate at one end. The pig entered by the gate and after having eaten his fill of the vegetables within came out laughing at the poor camel who had had to stay outside because he was too tall to enter the garden by the gate and said, Now would you be tall or short? Then they thought the matter over and came to the conclusion that the camel should keep his hump and the pig his snout observing. Tall is good where tall would do. Of short again, tis also true. A man in the East where they do not require as much clothing as in colder climates gave up all worldly concerns and retired to a wood where he built a hut and lived in it. His only clothing was a piece of cloth which he had been wearing for a very long time. The man in the East gave up all worldly concerns and retired to a wood where he built a hut and lived in it. A piece of cloth which he wore around his waist but as ill luck would have it rats were plentiful in the wood so he had to keep a cat. The cat required milk to keep it so a cow had to be kept. The cow required tending so a cowboy was employed. The boy required a house to live in so a house was built for him. To look after the house a maid had to be engaged to provide company for the maid a few more houses had to be built and people invited to live in them. In this manner a little township sprang up. The man said, the further we seek to go from the world and its cares, the more they multiply. End of section 131 Section 132 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Clarica Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 132 The Sea, the Fox, and the Wolf A fox that lived by the seashore once met a wolf that had never seen the sea. The wolf said, what is the sea? It is a great piece of water by my dwelling, said the fox. Is it under your control, asked the wolf? Certainly, said the fox. Will you show me the sea then, said the wolf. With pleasure, said the fox. So the fox led the wolf to the sea and said to the waves, now go back, they went back. Now come up, and they came up. Then the fox said to the waves, my friend the wolf has come to see you, so you will come up and go back till I bid you stop. And the wolf saw with wonder the waves coming up and going back. He said to the fox, may I go into the sea? As far as you like. Don't be afraid, for, at a word, the sea would go or come as I bid and as you have already seen. The wolf believed the fox and followed the waves rather far from the shore. A great wave soon upset him and threw his carcass on the shore. The fox made a hearty breakfast on it, saying, the fool's ear was made for the knave's tongue. End of section 132 Section 133 of Childhood Favorites and Furry Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson. Childhood Favorites and Furry Stories by various authors. Section 133 The Birds and the Lime A fowler in the east once went to a wood, scattered some grain on the ground, spread a net over it with some lime in it, and was watching from a distance to see what luck would attend his efforts. A great many birds assembled on the trees around the net and said, what fine corn that is. We can seldom hope to get anything like it. An owl that was close by said, how nice that white thing in the net is. What is it, said the birds? Why, it is our best friend in the world. It is lime. When it holds us in its embrace we can never hope to get away. The birds left the place at once, said the fowler. A clever bird knows the lime. Section 133 Section 134 Of Childhood Favorites and Furry Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson. Childhood Favorites and Furry Stories by various authors. Section 134 The Raven and the Cattle One evening, as some cattle were winding their way home, a raven rode on the horns of a bull in the herd. And as he approached the cottage, cried to the farmer, friend, my work for the day is over. You may now take charge of your cattle. What was your work, asked the farmer. Why, said the raven, the arduous task of watching these cattle and bringing them home. Am I to understand you have been doing all the work for me, said the farmer? Certainly, said the raven, and flew away with a laugh. Quoth the farmer with surprise how many there are that take credit for things which they have never done. The End of Section 134 Section 135 of Childhood's Favorites and Furry Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Clarica. Childhood's Favorites and Furry Stories by various authors. Section 135 Tinsel and Lightning A piece of tinsel on a rock once said to a pebble, you see how bright I am? I am by birth related to the lightning. Indeed, said the pebble, then accept my humble respects. Some time after, a flash of lightning struck the rock, and the tinsel lost all its brilliancy by the scorching effects of the flash. Where is your brilliancy now, said the pebble? Oh, it has gone to the sky, said the tinsel, for I have lent it to the lightning that came down a moment ago to borrow it of me. Dear me, said the pebble, how many fibs doth good bragging need. End of Section 135 Section 136 of Childhood's Favorites and Furry Stories This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson Childhood's Favorites and Furry Stories by various authors. Section 136 The Ass and the Watchdog A watchdog in a village was barking all night to keep thieves off from his master's house. An ass who observed this thought that the dog amused himself by barking. So he braided all night. When the day dawned, the owner of the ass thought the poor animal had been suffering from some disorder. Therefore he sent for the village doctor and laid the case before him. The doctor examined the animal closely and said, Friend, you must brand this ass forthwith else he will soon go into fits and die. The ass said, I assure you nothing is wrong with me. I simply amused myself last night. Oh no, said the inexorable each. I know what the wily brute means. He would rather die and make you the loser than be branded and recover his health. So they bound the ass with ropes and branded him all over with red hot iron. Some time after the ass moved out to see how the village had fared during his illness. The dog asked why he had been branded. The ass narrated the story. Quote the dog, He that mistakes work for amusement must pay for his error. End of the Ass and the Watchdog. Section 137 of Childhood Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ralph Snelson. Childhood Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 137, The Lark and Its Young Ones. A child went up to a lark and said, Good lark, have you any young ones? Yes, child, I have said the lark, and they are very pretty ones indeed. Then she pointed to them and said, This is fair wing, that is tiny bill, and that other is bright eye. The child said, Yes, at home we are three, myself and my two sisters, Jane and Alice, and Mama says we are pretty little children, and that she is very fond of us. To this the little lark replied, Oh yes, Mama is very fond of us too. Then the child said, Good lark, would you send home tiny bill to play with me? Before the lark could reply bright eye said, Yes, if you will send little Alice to play with us in our nest. The child said, Oh Alice will be so sorry to leave home and come away from Mama. Bright eye said, Tiny bill will be so sorry to leave our nest and go away from Mama. The child was abashed and went home saying, Ah, everyone is fond of home. End of The Lark and Its Young Ones. Section 138 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Clarica. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 138 The Two Gems A despot in the east once said to his faun and courtiers, He that goes round my kingdom in the shortest possible time shall have one of these two gems. A courtier went round the king and said, Sire, may I have the prize? How so, said the king? Why, you are the kingdom, are you not? said the courtier. The despot was so well pleased with the courtier that he gave him both the gems. The other courtier said, in a whisper, Flatterers, pray upon fools. End of Section 138 Section 139 of Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories by various authors. Section 139 The Hardy Tin Soldier There were once five and twenty tin soldiers. They were all brothers, for they had all been born of one old tin spoon. They shouldered their muskets and looked straight before them. Their uniform was red and blue and very splendid. The first thing they had heard in the world when the lid was taken off their box had been the words Tin Soldiers. These words rotted by a little boy clapping his hands. The soldiers had been given to him for it was his birthday, and now he put them upon the table. Each soldier was exactly like the rest, but one of them had been cast last of all, and there had not been enough tin to finish him. But he stood as firmly upon his one leg as the others on their two, and it was just this soldier who became remarkable. On the table in which they had been placed stood many other play-things, but the toy that attracted most attention was a neat castle of cardboard. Through the little windows one could see straight into the hall. Before the castle some little trees were placed round a little looking-glass, which was to represent a clear lake. Wax and swans swam on this lake and were mirrored in it. This was all very pretty, but the prettiest of all was a little lady who stood at the open door of the castle. She was also cut in paper, but she had a dress of the clearest gauze and a little narrow blue ribbon over her shoulders that looked like a scarf, and in the middle of this ribbon was a shining tinsel rose as big as her whole face. The little lady stretched out both her arms for she was a dancer, and then she lifted one leg so high that the tin soldier could not see it at all and thought that like himself she had but one leg. That would be the wife for me thought he, but she is very grand. She lives in a castle, but I have only a box and there are five and twenty of us in that. It is no place for her, but I must try to make acquaintance with her. And then he laid down at full length behind a snuff box, which was on the table. There he could easily watch the little dainty lady who continued to stand upon one leg without losing her balance. When the evening came all the other tin soldiers were put into their box and the people in the house went to bed. Now the toys began to play at visiting and at war and giving balls. The tin soldiers rattled in their box for they wanted to join, but could not lift the lid. The nutcracker threw somersaults and the pencil mused itself on the table. There was so much noise that the canary woke up and began to speak to and even in verse. The only two who did not stir from their places were the tin soldier and the dancing lady. She stood straight up on the point of one of her toes and stretched out both her arms and he was just as enduring on his one leg and he never turned his eyes away from her. Now the clock struck twelve and bounce! The lid flew off the snuff box but there was no snuff in it but a little black goblin. You see it was a trick. Tin soldier said the goblin don't stare at things that don't concern you but the tin soldier pretended not to hear him. Just you wait till tomorrow said the goblin. But when the morning came and the goblin hadn't gotten up the tin soldier was placed in the window and whether it was the goblin or the draught that did it all at once the window flew open and the soldier fell head over heels out of the third story. That was a terrible passage. He put his leg straight up and stuck with the helmet downward and his bayonet between the paving stones. The servant maid and the little boy came down directly to look for him but though they almost trod upon him they could not see him. And out, here I am, they would have found him but he did not think it fitting to call out loudly because he was in uniform. Now it began to rain the drop soon fell thicker and at last it came down into a complete stream when the rain was passed two street boys came by. Just looks at one of them there lies a tin soldier he must come out and ride in the boat and they made a boat out of a newspaper and put the tin soldier in the middle of it and so he sailed down the gutter and the two boys ran beside him and clapped their hands. Goodness preserve us how the waves rose in that gutter and how fast the stream ran but then it had been a heavy rain. The paper boat rocked up and down and sometimes turned round so rapidly that the tin soldier trembled but he remained firm and never changed countenance and looked straight before him and shouldered his musket. It was a very heavy rain and it became as dark as if he had been in his box. Where am I going now, he thought. Yes, yes, that's the goblin's fault. Ah, if the little lady only sat here with me in the boat it might be twice as dark for what I should care. Suddenly there came a great water rat which lived under the drain. Have you a passport? said the rat. Give me your passport. But the tin soldier kept silence and held his musket tighter than ever. The boat went on but the rat came after it. How he gnashed his teeth and called out to the bits of straw and wood. Hold him, hold him. He hasn't paid toll. He hasn't shown his passport. But the stream became stronger and stronger. The tin soldier could see the bright daylight where the arch ended but he heard a roaring noise which might well frighten a bolder man. Only think, just where the tunnel ended the drain ran into a great canal and for him that would have been as dangerous as for us to be carried down a great waterfall. Now he was already so near it that he could not stop. The boat was carried out. The poor tin soldier stiffening himself as much as he could and no one could say that he moved an eyelid. The boat whirled round three or four times and was full of water to the very edge. It must sink. The tin soldier stood up to his neck deeper and deeper and the paper was loosened more and more and now the water closed over the soldier's head. Then he thought of the pretty little dancer and how he should never see her again and it sounded in the soldier's ears. Farewell, farewell, my warrior brave for this day thou must die and now the paper parted and the tin soldier fell out but at that moment he was snapped up by a great fish. Oh how dark it was in that vicious body it was darker yet than in the drain tunnel and then it was very narrow too but the tin soldier remained unmoved and lay at full length sh-