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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..faa288f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66687 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66687) diff --git a/old/66687-0.txt b/old/66687-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 91f68c3..0000000 --- a/old/66687-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2185 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fairy Tales for Workers' Children, by -Herminia zur Mühlen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Fairy Tales for Workers' Children - -Author: Herminia zur Mühlen - -Translator: Ida Dailes - -Illustrator: Lydia Gibson - -Release Date: November 7, 2021 [eBook #66687] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ for Project Gutenberg (This file - was produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY TALES FOR WORKERS' -CHILDREN *** - - - - - FAIRY TALES - for - WORKERS’ CHILDREN - - by - HERMINIA ZUR MÜHLEN - - TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY IDA DAILES - COVER DRAWINGS AND COLOR PLATES BY LYDIA GIBSON - - - PUBLISHED BY THE - DAILY WORKER PUBLISHING CO. - 1113 West Washington Boulevard Chicago, Ill. - - - - - - - - - The Rose-bush - The Sparrow - The Little Grey Dog - Why? - - - - - - - - -FOREWORD - - -Dear Little Comrades: - -The work of translating this little book of fairy tales for workers’ -children is very small in comparison to the joy I get from the -knowledge that you, my beloved young comrades, are going to enjoy it. - -You have read many fairy tales, some of them very beautiful and some -that frightened you with their horrible giants and goblins. But never, -I am sure, have you read such lovely stories about real everyday -things. You see poor people suffering around you every day; some of you -have yourselves felt how hard it is to be poor. You know that there are -rich people in the world, that they do not work and have all the good -things of life. You also know that your fathers work hard and then -worry about what will happen if they lose their jobs. - -Comrade zur Mühlen, who wrote these fairy tales, tells us in a -beautiful way how these things can be stopped. All of us who work must -learn that we can make the world a better place for workers and their -children to live in if we will help one another. She shows us that the -rich people who do not work but keep us enslaved are our enemies; we -must join together, we workers of the world, and stop these wrongs. - -Even the pretty, delicate Rose-bush knew how to use her thorns when the -rich lady came near her. The little Sparrow died while seeking a better -land for the Sparrow brothers, but he did not die in vain. The faithful -little grey dog gave his life for the Negro boy who had saved him from -being drowned; and the Crocodile proved that even an ugly, hungry beast -can be more kind than a rich slave-owner. And our little lonely friend -Paul learned that he must not stop asking why things were wrong in the -world, but that he must make comrades of all the workers and teach them -also to ask why, until millions would be asking that question and -seeking to find the answer to it. - -When you read these stories, I am sure you will want to lend the book -to all your friends, so that they too may spend some happy hours with -the new friends you have found in the book. - - -Your loving comrade, - -Ida Dailes. - - - - - - - - -THE ROSE-BUSH - - -The Rose-bush did not know where she was born and where she spent her -early days—it is a well known fact that flowers have a bad memory, but -to make up for that they can see into the future. When she first became -conscious of herself, she stood in the middle of a magnificent green -lawn. To one side of her she saw a great white stone house, that -gleamed through the branches of linden trees, to the other side stood a -high trellised gate through which she could see the street. - -A thin tall man carefully tended the Rose-bush; he brought manure, -bound the drooping twigs of the Rose-bush together with bark, brought -water for the thirsty roots of the Rose-bush to drink. The Rose-bush -was grateful to the man, and as the buds she was covered with opened -into dainty red roses, she said to her friend, “You have taken care of -me, it is because of you that I have become so beautiful. Take some of -my loveliest blossoms in return.” - -The man shook his head. “You mean well, dear Rose-bush, and I would -gladly take some of your beautiful blossoms for my sick wife. But I -dare not do it. You don’t belong to me.” - -“I don’t belong to you!” exclaimed the Rose-bush. “Don’t I belong to -the person who has taken care of me and troubled himself about me? Then -to whom do I belong?” - -The man pointed with his hand to the gleaming white house among the -trees and replied, “To the gracious lady who lives there.” - -“That can’t be,” replied the Rose-bush. “I have never seen this lady. -It is not she who has sprinkled water on me, loosened the earth at my -roots, bound together my twigs. Then how can I belong to her?” - -“She has bought you.” - -“That is something different. Then the poor woman must have worked hard -to save so much money. Good! Half of my blossoms shall belong to her.” - -The man laughed a little sadly, saying, “Oh, beloved Rose-bush, you -don’t yet know the world, I can see that. The lady did not lift a -finger to earn the money.” - -“Then how did she get it?” - -“She owns a great factory in which countless workers drudge; from there -comes her wealth.” - -The Rose-bush became angry, lifted a bough up high, threatened the man -with her thorn-claws, shouting, “I see you enjoy yourself at my expense -because I am still young and inexperienced, telling me untruths about -the world of men. Still I am not so stupid, I have observed ants and -bees, and know that to each belongs the things for which he has -worked.” - -“That may be so among bees and ants,” the man sighed deeply, “yet among -men it is different. There the people receive just enough to keep them -from starving—all else belongs to the master. The master builds -splendid mansions, plants lovely gardens, buys flowers.” - -“Is that really true?” - -“Yes.” - -The man went back to his work and the Rose-bush began to meditate. Yet -the longer she thought, the worse her temper grew. Yes, even though she -usually had very fine manners, she spoke roughly to a bee who wished to -visit her. The bee was still young and timid, and flew off in fright as -fast as his wings could carry him. Then the Rose-bush was sorry for her -rough behavior, because she was naturally friendly, and also because -she might have asked the bee whether the man had spoken the truth. - -While she was so engrossed in thought, suddenly some one shook her and -a mischievous voice asked, “Well, my friend, what are you dreaming -about?” - -The Rose-bush looked up with her countless eyes and recognized the -Wind, that stood laughing before her shaking his head so that his long -hair flew about. - -“Wind, beloved Wind!” joyfully exclaimed the Rose-bush, “You come as -though you had been called. Tell me whether the man has spoken the -truth.” And she reported everything the man had said to her. - -The Wind suddenly became serious and whistled through his teeth so -violently that the branches of the Rose-bush began to tremble. “Yes,” -declared he, “all this is true, and even worse. I come here from all -over the whole world and see everything. Often I am so seized with -anger that I begin to rave; then the stupid people say, ‘My! what a -storm!’” - -“And the rich people can really buy everything?” - -“Yes,” growled the wind. Then suddenly he laughed. “Not me. They can’t -capture and imprison me. I am the friend of the poor. I fly to all -lands. In big cities, I station myself before ill-smelling cellars and -roar into them ‘Freedom! Justice!’ To tired, overworked people I sing a -lullaby, ‘Be courageous, keep together, fight, you will conquer!’ Then -they feel new strength, they know a comrade has spoken to them.” He -tittered, and all the leaves in the garden stirred. “The rich would -like to imprison me, because I carry the message, but I whistle at -them. At night I rattle their windows so that they become frightened in -their soft beds, and then I cry, ‘Ho ho, you idlers, your time is -coming. Make room for the workers of the world!’ At that they are very -frightened, draw the silken covers over their ears, try to comfort -themselves: ‘It was only the wind!’” - -The Wind lifted one of his legs high and pushed it with all his weight -against the magnificent white house. The windows clattered, many things -in the house were broken, a woman’s voice shrieked. The Wind laughed, -then drew his leg back and said to the Rose-bush: “You also can do -something, you flowers. Do not bloom for the rich idlers, and the fruit -trees should not bear fruit. But you are pleasure-loving and lazy -creatures. Look at the Tulips that stand up so sturdily all day, always -saying nothing but ‘How lovely we are!’ They have no other interests.” - -The petals of the Rose-bush became a deeper red, so ashamed was she of -her sister-flower. - -The Wind noticed this and tried to comfort her. “You appear to be a -sensible, kind-hearted bush. I shall visit you more often. Give me one -of your petals as a parting gift.” He took a deep red petal from a full -blown rose. “Be happy—now I must leave.” - -At that moment two poorly-dressed pale children came along the street. -They stopped before the gate and cried as though with one voice, “Oh, -the beautiful roses!” The little girl stretched her hands longingly -toward the blossoms. - -“Wind, beloved Wind,” called the Rose-bush, as loud as she could. -“Before you fly away, break off two of my loveliest roses and throw -them to the children. But be careful that the petals do not drop off.” - -“Do you think I am so clumsy?” grumbled the insulted Wind, breaking off -two handsome roses, and blew them lightly, gently to the children. - -The children shouted joyfully, the Wind flew away, and the Rose-bush -enjoyed the happiness of the children. Her enjoyment did not last long. -An angry voice scolded the children. “What impudence is this, to steal -the flowers out of my garden!” - -The Rose-bush saw a silk-clad lady with fingers that were covered with -rings threatening the children. Her smooth face was red with anger. The -children were frightened and ran off crying. - -The Rose-bush breathed deep with indignation and her breath blew -sweeter perfume towards the lady’s face. She stepped closer. “Ah, the -beautiful roses. I had better pick them, otherwise the rabble from the -streets will steal them. And they are such an expensive kind.” - -At this the Rose-bush became enraged, so that her blossoms blazed a -fiery red. “If I were only strong as the wind,” thought she, “I would -get hold of this evil woman and shake her so that she would become deaf -and blind. Such a common creature has a whole garden full of the most -gorgeous flowers and begrudges the children for two paltry roses. But -you shall not have even one of my blossoms, you bad woman, just wait.” - -And as the woman bent down to pick the flowers, the Rose-bush hit her -in the face with a twig, stretching out all her thorns like a cat -stretches out its claws, and scratched up the woman’s face. - -She screamed aloud. The woman did not want to cease from her task, but -the Rose-bush was as willful as she; wherever the hand of the woman -reached, a large thorn sprang out and scratched her till she bled. - -At last the woman, with torn clothes, with scratched, dirty hands, had -to turn back home. - -The Rose-bush was completely tired from the heated struggle. Her many -green arms hung limply, her flowers were paler, she sighed softly. Yet -she thought more deeply and arrived at a mighty resolution. - -Late in the evening the Wind came flying to bid the Rose-bush -good-night, and the Rose-bush said to him solemnly, “Listen to me, -Brother Wind, I will follow your advice, I will no longer bloom for the -idlers.” - -The Wind caressed the leaves and flowers of the Rose-bush with gentle -hands, saying earnestly, “Poor little Rose-bush, will you have the -strength for that? You will have to suffer a great deal.” - -“Yes,” replied the Rose-bush, “I know it. But I will have the strength. -Only you must come every day and sing your song of freedom, so as -always to renew my courage.” - -The Wind promised to do this. - -Then followed bad days for the Rose-bush, for she had decided not to -drink any water, that she might cease blooming. When her friend came -with the water pot she drew her little roots close to herself, that no -drops might touch them. Ah, how she suffered! she thought she would -faint. In the day-time the sun shone, and she became more thirsty every -hour, always longing more for water. And at last, at evening came the -longed for drink, but she dared not sip the full draught, she had to -turn away from the cool precious liquid, to thirst again. After a while -she thought she could not endure it. But the wind came flying, fanning -her, singing softly and gently, “Be brave, be brave! You will conquer!” - -Day after day the Rose-bush gazed at the gleaming white house in which -lived people who had everything they wanted and then looked at the -street where others passed by with thin, pale faces that were tired and -sad, and this brought new strength to her heart. - -She became constantly more sick and more weak; her arms hung down -feebly, her blossoms dropped their petals, her leaves became wrinkled -and yellow. The man who tended her watched her sadly and asked. “What -is wrong, my poor Rose-bush?” and he tried every remedy he knew of to -help her. But all in vain. One morning, instead of a handsome, blooming -Rose-bush, he found a miserable, withered, dead bush. - -That could not remain there, the withered branches and flowers spoiled -the handsome garden. The gracious lady commanded that the Rose-bush be -thrown out. As the man dug her up, the Rose-bush gathered her remaining -strength and whispered beseechingly, “Take me home! Please, please take -me home!” - -The man fulfilled her wish. He planted the Rose-bush in a flower pot -and took her to the poor, small room where he lived. His sick wife sat -up in bed and said, “Ah, the poor Rose-bush, she is as sick as I am, -but you will nurse us both back to health.” - -The withered leaves and twigs moaned, “Water! Water!” And the man -understood them and brought in a jar of water. The Rose-bush drank. Oh! -what delight this was! Eagerly her roots sucked up the water, the -delicious moisture passing through all her branches gave her new life. -The next morning she could lift up her branches; the sick woman was as -happy as a child and cried, “She will get well!” - -And the Rose-bush really got well. In a short while she again became so -beautiful that the poor little room was as fragrant as a garden. The -pale cheeks of the woman became rosier every day, her strength was -returning. “The Rose-bush has made me well,” said she, and all the -flowers on the Rose-bush glowed deep red with joy when she heard these -words. - -The man and his wife were kind people, they gladly shared the little -they had, and carefully broke off some roses to bring joy to tired -people in other lonely rooms. - -The roses had other magic powers; the Rose-bush, in her days of -struggle and suffering, had learned the songs of the Wind. Now her -flowers sang them very softly for their friends, “Keep together! Fight! -You will conquer!” Then the people said, “How strange! The perfume of -the flowers brings us new strength. We will fight together for a better -world.” - -But to the little children the roses sang in a tender, loving voice: -“Little children, when you are grown up, you will no longer stand sadly -before the gate. The whole world will belong to those who work, the -whole world!” - - - - - - - - -THE SPARROW - - -Quarrel and disagreement ruled in the Sparrow family. Mother Sparrow -squatted unhappily in her nest all day and Father Sparrow swore and -grumbled and found fault with everything. The family that had once been -so gay and happy was completely changed. And for all this misery the -youngest Sparrow was to blame. One evening at supper he had declared, -briefly and boldly, “I’m not going to school any more. I’ve had enough -of being insulted by those aristocrats. Above all, I’m tired of all -this life. I want to go out into the world.” He stuck up his bill and -looked at his parents defiantly. - -Mother Sparrow was so shocked that all her feathers stood up. She -started helplessly at her naughty son, and all she could do was to say -weakly, “Peep, peep.” - -But Father Sparrow opened his mouth so wide in anger that the worm he -had meant to eat slid quickly away. He was a person of action, did not -believe in talking much, and proceeded to beat his son in the face with -his sharp beak. - -The young Sparrow screamed more defiantly than ever, “I won’t stay here -any longer. I’ve had enough. I’m going out into the world.” - -Then Mother Sparrow found her voice again and said tearfully, “You -wicked child! That’s how you thank your parents for their love. Haven’t -we brought you up well? You are the first sparrow in our village to -attend Professor Swallow’s school of architecture and learn to build -artistic nests. You belong to the best society and mingle with -Swallows, Starlings and Yellow-bills. And this is how you repay us.” - -“I don’t care a pin about fine society,” replied the excited young -Sparrow. And he whistled defiantly, “Tweet, tweet!” - -“No other Sparrow is studying such a respectable profession,” -despairingly piped Mother Sparrow. - -Then the young Sparrow began to make such a fuss that the whole nest -shook. “A respectable profession, truly a beautiful profession. To -build nests in which others live. To slave in the heat of the sun, -carrying straws from all over, to weave them together, to see that -everything is just perfect—and then the fine ladies and gentlemen move -in, and throw me a little worm for my wages, hardly enough for a decent -meal. Above all, these fine people. The swallows, always dressed up in -their frock-coats; the Yellow-bills, always showing off their fine -jewelry. And how they treat our own people, full of pride and scorn. -Common laborer, they call me. I’ve had enough of it. I’m as good as -they are, and maybe better.” - -Mother Sparrow shrank in horror, but Father Sparrow blew up until he -nearly burst and shouted, “Be silent, you lost soul, you -whipper-snapper. You talk like a Bolshevik. You forget that I am -chairman of the Council of Jesters. My son must not rebel against law -and order.” - -“Yes,” exclaimed Mother Sparrow, “and suppose the neighbors should hear -you! How dreadful!” - -The young Sparrow laughed shamelessly, seated himself on the edge of -the nest and whistled a revolutionary song. - -Father Sparrow rose hastily and grumbled in an undertone to his wife, -“See to that young fool and make him behave. I must go to the meeting -of the Singing Society.” He flew away without one look at his naughty -son. - -Mother Sparrow sighed deeply and asked in a complaining voice, “Now -what is it you really want?” - -The young Sparrow came closer, nestled against his mother, and said -with a sweet smile, “I want to go away little mother, far away. To -foreign lands where it is always summer.” - -“But son of my heart, you know that even the stupid children of men -learn in their schools that the Sparrow is not a migratory bird.” - -“What is that to me? I can’t stand it here any longer. Always seeing -the same things; in the distance the old church steeple, here before -our noses the farm-house, and the dung-hill. No, I want to go away, far -away.” - -At that he spread out his wings and pushed himself head first out of -the nest into space. It seemed very dangerous, but his wings carried -him safely through the air. - -But the young Sparrow was by no means as joyous and light-hearted as he -seemed to be. The words of his parents had aroused all sorts of doubts -in his mind. “Mother was really right,” he said to himself. “The -Sparrow is not a migratory bird. No one has ever heard of a Sparrow -that has flown across the great ocean and gone to foreign lands. But -why shouldn’t I be the first one to do this?” he asked himself, with -defiant courage. “Some one must always be the first one. If my venture -succeeds, I will have proven to all the Sparrow folk that they need not -freeze and starve in the winter-time, but can move to the warm -countries and live happily. Certainly, the ocean....” The young -Sparrow’s heart lost courage, he thought of what his teacher, the -Swallow had once told him about the great, wild water that never seemed -to end, about the angry frothy waves over which one had to fly daily. -If one’s wings lost their strength, one fell down and was lost. One was -swallowed by the waves. - -At these thoughts the Sparrow almost wanted to give up the idea. He -shrank together and began shivering. Then suddenly he thought how in -past hard winters many wretched Sparrows had died of hunger and cold. - -“No, no,” said he to himself. “I must not be so cowardly. This matter -does not concern only myself, but all my brother Sparrows, all the -Sparrows of future generations, who will live when I have been long -dead. It will be worth every danger and every sacrifice if I can help -them to a happier life.” - -And the brave young Sparrow decided to leave the next day. - -He spent that night in his parents’ nest, nestled close to his mother, -wept a little secretly because it was hard for him to leave. Father -returned late, and he was quite drunk, threw himself on his bed so that -it cracked and fell asleep immediately. - -The grey-white sky began to turn rosy, morning came flying on the wings -of the wind and brought light to the world. The young Sparrow awoke, -looked for the last time at his sleeping parents, and flew forth. He -knew in which direction he must fly, for he remembered the stories of -the Swallows. Now he flew exactly that way. - -The sun climbed higher into the heavens, it became hotter and hotter, -the poor Sparrow could hardly breathe. His wings were so tired and sore -that he could hardly lift them. Still he flew further. He had resolved -not to rest until the shadows would fall upon the earth. - -Never had he lived through so long a day. Vainly his bright little eyes -explored the heavens, but the great golden sphere of the sun shone -brightly, would not go down. - -“I was a fool,” thought the Sparrow. “Now I might be sitting at home in -our nest, or be bathing in the puddle by the cherry-tree. Ah, how -pleasant it would be to bathe; at this moment even the ocean would not -be too large.” - -Still he flew steadily on. But now he flew slowly, every beat of his -wings caused him dreadful pain. He began to hate the sun, this -merciless glowing red sphere that would not go down. To give himself -courage, he made up a little song, singing it very softly and moving -his tired wings in time to its rhythm. - - - “My cause is the cause of my brothers, - My strength must save them all; - If I fail I do wrong to the others, - And their chains will never fall.” - - -At last, at last, great black shadows fell upon the earth. A refreshing -breeze came flying, coolly fanning the weary Sparrow, carrying him -gently along on its mighty wings. - -As the sun went down behind a blue hill, the tired Sparrow alighted on -a large meadow. He lay panting in the tall grass. The soft chirping of -the crickets lulled him to sleep; his eyes closed. - -Rough, loud voices of men awakened him. Under a knotty old nut tree he -saw two ragged, dust-covered men seated. One of them pulled his torn -boots off, looked woefully at his blistered feet and said, “I can’t run -any more, I must rest a day.” - -“Just another half hour,” the other man said comfortingly. “Just to the -next railroad station. There we will hide in a freight car and ride -until morning. Then it will not be far to the sea.” - -The Sparrow had listened carefully to their conversation. “So people -get tired, too,” thought he, “and then they ride. I don’t know what -that means, but I know that one does not tire oneself that way. If -people ride, why shouldn’t Sparrows also ride?” He decided to follow -the men, and since they left in a short time he flew after them. - -They arrived at a house in front of which two shining bands were -stretched on the ground. Now night had really come. All was hidden in -darkness, only the stars shone faintly in the sky. The Sparrow stayed -near the two men and waited. - -Suddenly something dreadful appeared. Through the darkness a gigantic -black beast came rattling, its red eyes shining so brightly that one -could see them from a great distance, it puffed and panted, the earth -shook after it. It shrieked frightfully as it came near. Then suddenly -it stopped. It let out clouds of smoke from its long black nose. - -The Sparrow was astonished that neither of the two men, nor the rest of -the people, seemed to be afraid of the monster. On the contrary, they -ran up to it, disappearing in its smoke. Then the Sparrow saw that the -monster pulled some black houses behind it. He saw the two men sneak -into one of these houses and flew on to the roof of the same house. -Scarcely had he settled himself when the monster again began to puff -and pant and started on its journey. - -The poor Sparrow thought he would die of fright. The monster rushed -with such speed that the little bird could not hear or see. At home he -had often flown with the wind for the sport of it and had enjoyed the -swift motion. But this was altogether different. He made himself very -small, settled himself firmly, and believed his last hour had come. If -men called this rest they surely are strange creatures. Perhaps it -wasn’t so terrible where the people were. He was a clever Sparrow and -when the monster stopped again to take breath, he flew down from the -roof of the house and examined it. The door was not quite closed. The -Sparrow squeezed through the crack, entered a dark room where many -boxes were piled. He squatted on one of the chests and waited to see -what would happen. - -The monster began to run again. The Sparrow laughed with joy; now he -had guessed right. He sat here quietly, comfortably, and the monster -had to slave to carry him further. So this is what people call “to -ride.” Truly, people are not so stupid as he had thought. - -The countless feet of the monster pounded over the earth singing a -rattling, rumbling, monotonous song. The Sparrow understood the words -to mean “Into the distance! Into the distance!” For a while he listened -to the song, then he fell asleep. - -He must have slept a long time. When he awoke the sun was high in the -sky and its rays came into the dark room through narrow cracks in the -door. The Sparrow saw that his two acquaintances had hidden themselves -between two tall boxes. They seemed to be in good humor, chatting with -one another and laughing. - -“We have traveled a good part of our journey without trouble,” said the -older one. “Now we only have to walk another day and ride another -night. Then we will reach the ocean.” - -“How long will we have to swim?” - -“About five days.” - -The Sparrow was frightened. Five days he would have to swim over the -endless waters, five long days he could not rest or cease if he wished -to save himself from sinking into the waves. How could he endure it? He -began to reflect carefully. Could men swim so long in water? He had -seen boys bathing in the village pond, yet they would come out of the -water in a short time and none of them ever remained in the water all -day long. But perhaps there were also tame monsters which carried men -over the water. Again he decided not to leave the two men and to do -everything they did. - -When the two men jumped, unnoticed, off the freight train at a railway -station, the Sparrow followed them. He flew very close to them. He felt -that they were both his friends and so long as he would not leave them -nothing would happen to him. - -All day long the men journeyed, walking through fields and meadows, -through little villages with queer pointed church steeples. The younger -of the two men limped, he could only walk slowly. This was very -pleasing to the Sparrow, because he did not have to move fast, he could -fly comfortably. When the men stopped, the Sparrow followed their -example, meantime seeking his food, as the long journey made him -unusually hungry. He also chatted with a few strange birds, all of whom -advised him not to continue his dangerous journey. The migratory birds -looked him over scornfully, saying with a sneer, “Do you believe you -can do the same as we distinguished people? To travel, to see the -world, to spend the winter in warm countries—that is not for common -people.” - -An old blackbird minister, black-frocked and solemn, delivered a sermon -to him from a branch. “We must obey God’s commandments. God has -ordained that Sparrows must spend the winter in the north.” - -“If God has decreed that all our people shall freeze and starve and -that only the aristocrats, the Capitalists, like the Swallows and -Starlings, shall fly away to the warm places, I don’t want to know -anything about him!” cried the Sparrow and his feathers bristled up in -anger. - -The old blackbird minister primped his shining feathers with his bill -and growled senselessly. But the Sparrow was sad. “How cruel the birds -are to one another,” he thought to himself. “I want to do something -that will help all and am just laughed at. Can’t anybody understand -me?” - -“Hark, hark!” called a soft voice from a great height, and a young Lark -shot downward as swift as lightning to the side of the sad Sparrow. “I -understand you. Everybody jeers at me too, because I don’t fly close to -the earth like they do, but always seek to fly higher and higher, into -the blue sky. Do not be downcast, beloved brother, you will reach your -goal.” - -The young Lark flew quite close to the Sparrow, looked at him and said, -“Fly a little for me, brother, so I can see how strong your wings are.” - -The Sparrow flew up, hovering over the Lark. - -As he returned she looked at him sadly and said earnestly, “Your wings -cannot carry you over the great ocean, my poor friend. But you must not -give up on account of that, you must do as men do, who cannot fly and -yet travel all over the world. They have invented a sort of house that -swims over the water. They call it a ship. You must....” - -The Sparrow did not wait to hear the end. The two men had left during -the conversation, and now the Sparrow saw them in the distance looking -like two dark spots. Frightened, he cried. “My two men have left me,” -and he flew after them as fast as he could. - -When it grew dark, the men once again sneaked into a freight train. The -Sparrow followed them and slept all night, while the black monster -again took him over hills and mountains, past rivers and streams. - -As dawn came, the two men crept out of the train and the Sparrow flew -after them. They walked for a little while, then the Sparrow saw an -immense body of water lying before him. Endless, extending beyond his -vision, this blue-gray body of water extended, and on its surface -stormed wild, white-capped, monstrously high billows. - -So this was the ocean! Never had the Sparrow felt so small and helpless -as at the sight of this dreadful water. What was he in comparison to -this? A poor, helpless little bird, a tiny something. Deep sighs lifted -his little breast, from his bright eyes the tears fell. “If I were only -at home, in the safe little nest,” cried he to himself. “I could creep -under mother’s wings as I did when I was little.” - -The waves roared dismally, threateningly; the white froth squirted -upwards. The two men walked unconcernedly on the damp, sandy ground. -With beating heart the Sparrow followed them. And then he saw something -surprising. In a great bay some strange things tossed. They were -something like a house, but had few windows and tall chimneys from -which streamed heavy grey smoke; some things that looked like a forest; -bare trees without branches seemed to grow in it. Although these trees -bore neither fruit not leaves, the Sparrow was delighted to see them. -They gave him confidence. He began to feel at home. But how strange it -was that these houses with trees on them were tossed up and down by the -waves. Suddenly the Sparrow remembered the words of the Lark. “Men call -these houses that swim on the water ‘ships’.” So these were ships! On -one of these tossing, swimming houses he would journey to warm lands. - -But which should he choose? - -It occurred to him that at home the largest trees could best withstand -the wind. Evidently the same was true of ships, and so he must choose -the largest. - -His two friends went to a small ship, and the Sparrow piped, “Good -luck! Good luck!” but they did not hear him. - -The Sparrow flew on to an immense ship from whose chimneys streamed -great clouds of grey smoke, and hid himself high up at the top of one -of the leafless trees. - -What noise and excitement there was below. Countless people ran hither -and thither, calling and shouting to one another; something rattled, -something clattered, the great chimneys shrieked loudly. A bridge that -attached the boat to the land flew up into the air, then fell into the -boat with a bang. The boat started on its journey. Slowly, solemnly it -cut through the water that bubbled on either side. The large house with -the leafless trees, the little bird’s new home, swam away from the -land. - -The Sparrow’s mind was quite confused with the noise and hurry. And now -another great fright came to him. Suddenly a young fellow climbed up -his tree. The Sparrow believed that he wanted to capture him, but the -fellow didn’t seem to notice him and after a little while climbed back. -As it grew dark, the boat became quiet and one could only hear the -noise of the waves. The Sparrow flew down from his tree and sat down on -the roof, where he soon fell asleep. - -When he awoke in the morning, he thought he would die of fear. The land -had disappeared. Wherever he looked he saw only water; great grey waves -rolled against the ship, shaking it gently as a soft wind shakes the -nests in the trees. Nowhere a tree, a shrub, a flower. The boat swam -all alone on the great ocean, that would not end. - -The poor Sparrow felt quite lonesome and deserted. “If I could just -find any bird,” sighed he. “Even if it were a haughty Swallow or a -strange Blackbird. At least I could speak with some one who knows my -world, who speaks my language.” Finally he lost all his courage and -began to weep bitterly. - -“Who are you?” suddenly asked a thin, piping voice, and the Sparrow -beheld a little mouse standing before him, who stared at him with large -round eyes. - -The Sparrow was happy, for he was acquainted with mice at home. He bent -down and hopefully answered the questions of the mouse. - -“You are a brave Sparrow,” she said, after she had heard his story. “I -bid you welcome to my ship.” - -“To your ship?” exclaimed the Sparrow. “I thought that the ship belongs -to the people.” - -“The people also believe that,” replied the Mouse sharply. “But don’t -you know that people believe that everything belongs to them?” - -“That is true. The farmer at home believed that the church-steeple was -his, and yet it is quite clear that the church-steeple was made for us -Sparrows.” - -While they were speaking thus, a very old mouse came over and began to -speak. “Not all people believe that everything belongs to them,” said -she learnedly. “There are also people who do not possess anything. You -can observe that on the ship. Above live people in large, beautiful -rooms, and eat all day long. My mouth waters when I smell the rich -foods that are set before them.” - -“But down below the people are crowded together, so that they can -hardly find place to lie down at night, and many have only dry bread -along with them to eat on the whole journey. This stupid phrase ‘my -boat’ you have also learned from men,” she said scolding the mouse. -“You know that the common things are ours. Don’t let me hear false -words from you.” - -“Excuse me, grandmother,” begged the young Mouse. - -“You are a stranger here,” said the Grandmother Mouse to the Sparrow. -“We will be helpful to you, so that you can endure the long journey. I -advise you not to fly to the rich people, they will play with you a day -or two, and then forget you. Indeed, it is only among the poor people, -on the lower deck, that you will find a few breadcrumbs, and these -people will be good to you because they know how a poor, unfortunate -creature feels.” - -The Sparrow followed the advice of the wise Grandmother Mouse and soon -realized that she had spoken truthfully. The children were delighted -with him, and they spared him breadcrumbs from the few that were -provided for their own little mouths. And because they were children, -they understood the language of the Sparrow, and chatted with him. In -this way the Sparrow heard many sad stories. The children told of -poverty and distress, how hard parents had to work and how often there -was nothing to eat at home. The honest Sparrow felt very sad to hear -this. “There must also be a beautiful land for men, where conditions -are good and they do not have to hunger and freeze,” said he to his -little friend. - -“Perhaps,” said a pale little girl. “But we have not yet found the road -to it.” - -“When I am big,” declared a little boy dressed in black, “then I will -go out to search for that land. When I find it I will lead all the poor -people to it.” - -The two mice also visited the Sparrow often, they always came towards -evening, when all was quiet. - -So passed a long time, and one day the Sparrow saw land in the -distance, saw houses and trees and knew that now his goal was reached. - -The grey ocean had become quite blue and gleamed in the sunshine. It -was very hot, and Grandmother Mouse said that in this land there was no -winter. - -When the ship landed, the Sparrow flew after his friends for a while -and then contemplated his new home. - -All the people had brown faces and wore strange clothes. The faces of -the women were covered so that one could only see their large black -eyes. He also saw queer animals that walked on four legs and had great -humps on their backs. Even the trees were different than those at home, -there were some with long pointed leaves and brown fruit that the -Sparrow relished. There was plenty to eat; here no Sparrow had to -suffer hunger, and there was no snow or cold. - -“Isn’t this also the right country for the poor people?” the Sparrow -asked himself. But then he saw that in this sunny land there were also -rich and poor, that some were richly dressed and others wore rags, that -some lazy ones rode in handsome carriages and some dragged heavy -burdens. And he thought, “It is much easier to find a Sparrow paradise -than a land in which people may enjoy happiness.” This pained him, -because on his journey he had learned to love the poor people. “But how -strange this is. People can tame wild animals to carry them through all -lands, they know how to build houses that swim on the water and yet -they are so poor and destitute and let a few evil wretches take -everything for themselves.” - -Now that he had reached the warm country, the Sparrow rested from his -long and wearisome journey, flew about lazily, and spent each night in -a different tree. - -One day he came to a beautiful green stream and flew along its course. -He came to a great, large plain. At first he thought he had reached the -ocean again, but as far as he could see lay fine yellow sand. In the -distance he saw something rising out of the sand which looked like a -monstrous animal. He flew closer to it and saw that it really was a -gigantic creature with the head of a human being and two large paws. It -was made of grey-brown stone and was partly covered with sand. - -The ugly animal lay quite still and grinned angrily. The Sparrow -curtseyed carefully: would the beast wish to eat him? But no, it -graciously acknowledged his greeting and said: “I have been lying here -thousands of years, yet I have never seen a bird like you. Who are you? -What are you doing here?” - -The Sparrow related his story and the great beast listened patiently. -Then the little bird inquired, “Will you tell me who you are? We have -no animals like you at home.” - -The great beast laughed and replied, “People call me the Sphinx. I am -so old that I have lost count of my years; have seen everything, know -everything.” - -“In my country the Owls say that, too,” was the Sparrow’s pert remark. - -The Sphinx looked at him angrily. “The Owl is a conceited boaster!” he -cried excitedly. - -“Excuse me!” stammered the Sparrow, frightened. “I did not wish to -insult you. You look much older than the Owl.” - -“Indeed I am. I count my years by the thousands.” - -“How much you must have seen!” cried the Sparrow. - -The Sphinx opened her gigantic mouth and yawned so hugely that the sand -flew about her as though a whirlwind had hit it. - -“Since the year 1000,” said she. “I always see the same; I see people -who have riches and joy, forcing their starving slaves to drudge. At -first the slaves were driven with whips which the overseer used to beat -them with when they became tired from the heat of the sun. Often these -slaves were kept at work with chains on their feet so that they should -not run away. Later the whips disappeared, the masters bragged of their -kindness, saying, ‘In these progressive times, no man is a slave.’ But -secretly they concealed a dreadful whip, Hunger, and this drove the -people to slavery as surely as the whip they had used previously. I see -people pass here, rich strangers who visit this country out of -curiosity, and see the poor Arabs, who work as muleteers and drag heavy -stones, and are barely kept alive with a few dates and a little corn, -just like their ancestors thousands of years ago.” - -The Sphinx became silent, gazing gloomily at the desert. Then she spoke -again, “For thousands of years there were gorgeously dressed, jeweled -priests here, who belonged in the same class as the rich people. They -preached to the people, threatening them with the anger of the gods if -they became dissatisfied with their fate. Today these priests are -dressed in black, but they also lie and stand by the rich ones, they -also worship a God who was a bad mechanic. It has always been the same, -for thousands of years.” And again the Sphinx yawned. - -“Can’t you also see into the future, wise Beast?” bashfully questioned -the Sparrow. - -“Yes, I can also see that. Listen to my words, little bird. A day will -come when all slaves will arise in a dreadful struggle against their -oppressors. After long bloody battles they will conquer and then there -will be a new world, where everything belongs to all the people and all -people are free. Even today the earth trembles in happy expectation, -and in the quiet night I feel its trembling. For thousands of years I -have not spoken to any being, I will only speak again when the day of -freedom dawns. Then my voice will join in the jubilations of the freed -people.” - -The Sparrow flew out of the desert where he could find nothing to eat, -back to the green stream, and enjoyed many pleasant days there. - -One day he was sitting on a stone on the bank of the stream, when he -heard familiar voices, “Tweet! Tweet!” - -He looked up and saw three Swallows who flew slowly toward him. - -“Are you here already?” the Sparrow asked in surprise. - -“Certainly, certainly,” twittered the Swallows. “At home rough winds -are blowing, the frost is in the meadows at night, winter is coming.” - -How frightened the Sparrow was at that. Here in this beautiful land -where he had plenty of fat worms and warm sunshine, he had forgotten -about his Sparrow brothers. And in the meantime the deadly winter had -come! He must rush home to teach them how to reach the sunny land. -Would he reach there in time? How selfish he had been; if Sparrows were -freezing and starving at home, it was his fault. - -Even while he was thinking this he spread out his little wings and flew -toward the ocean. - -In the harbor many silvery-white Seagulls flew about, crying with -shrill voices, “A storm is coming! A storm is coming!” - -“Which ship is going north?” he asked hastily. - -“None,” answered a Seagull; but this was not true, they were -disagreeable birds and wanted to frighten the Sparrow. - -But he believed them. “Then I must fly over the ocean,” thought he, -fearfully. “I must do it, for on me depends the life or death of my -Sparrow brothers. I must make good.” - -Sadly he looked back once more on the wonderland; then flew out on the -great waters. - -Wild waves dashed up, the storm howled and rain fell. In a few hours, -the Sparrow was so tired that he could no longer fly high. The billows -made his feathers wet, they were heavy with the water and drew him -deeper and deeper down. A monstrous wave reached out for him with white -arms and the Sparrow fell into the ocean and was swallowed by the -waves. - -For that reason the Sparrows must still freeze and starve every winter, -for there has not been another courageous Sparrow to show them the way -to the sunny country. - -But had the Sparrow suffered so much and died in vain? - -No, the little black-haired boy on the ship had paid special attention -to the story which the Sparrow had told him and had listened to what -the Sparrow wanted to do for his Sparrow brothers, and this the little -boy wanted to do for his fellow-humans. He grew up, and wherever -oppressed workers struggled against their oppressors, he was the -leader. But the story of the black-haired boy, of his life and his -death, is another tale and does not belong here. - - - - - - - - -THE LITTLE GREY DOG - - -He was an ugly grey dog with long silken-soft ears and a bushy tail. He -was born in a splendid stable that belonged to a rich man. This rich -man lived on a large estate in which were fields and meadows. And in -these fields grew sugarcane, in great quantities, great, round, smooth -canes that contained the sweet sugar. On the sugar plantations worked -hundreds of Negroes, men and women, and the Negroes belonged to the -rich man who had bought them in the market as he would buy cattle, for -this story happened long ago, in those days when slavery existed in -America. The rich man could do anything he wished with his slaves. If -he was in a bad mood he would permit them to be whipped; if they dared -to protest against this cruel treatment they were more cruelly -punished—they were stripped naked, smeared with honey, and tied to a -tree. The smell of the honey attracted the bees that came in large -swarms, settled on the body of the slave, sucked the honey and stung -the bound man till he collapsed with pain. Also, the master could sell -his slave, did this frequently, without the least consideration, -tearing mother from child, separating man and wife, sister and brother. -The poor Negroes were completely helpless, they had to work all day -long in the hot sun, received very poor food, lived in wretched huts, -separated from the house of the rich man by a mighty river. Here lived -the Negroes, crowded together; the children played about in front of -these huts, played happily, because they did not yet know that they -were slaves and that a hard, difficult life awaited them. - -In one of the Negro huts arrived the little grey dog who had been born -in the splendid stable, and this is how it happened. - -Once when the rich man walked through the stable, he noticed the little -grey dog who was playing in the straw. He examined the little dog, and -said angrily to the coachman, “What is this ugly little creature doing -here in my beautiful stable? Take it out, drown it in the river.” - -The coachman promised to do this; indeed he pitied the lively little -animal, but the master was strict and he did not dare to disobey the -command. He called the little dog, who came running joyously, and -started toward the river. As he came near the homes of the slaves, a -little black boy ran out of one of the huts and cried, “O, the lovely -little animal! Where are you taking it?” And he ran quite close to them -and patted the dog, who mischievously jumped at him, barking. - -“I must drown the dog,” answered the coachman. - -At that the eyes of the little boy filled with tears, he took the dog -in his arms, held him close, and begged, “Don’t do it, just see how -darling he is!” - -“I must do it, Benjamin. The master has commanded me. If I don’t obey -him he will punish me severely.” - -The little grey dog licked Benjamin’s face, looked at him with his -large eyes that seemed to implore him, “Save me, save me!” - -“Give me the dog,” pleaded Benjamin. “I will hide him well so that the -master will not see him.” - -The coachman thought for a moment, then replied, “Good, you may hide -him. But,” he said warningly, “you must not betray the fact that I have -given him to you. If the master should ever see him, you must say that -you saved him from the river. Then he will give you a bad beating....” - -“That doesn’t matter,” cried Benjamin eagerly. “As long as the little -dog is allowed to live.” - -The coachman laughed, removed the string from the neck of the dog, and -Benjamin ran to the hut with him, patting him, kissing him, full of -joy. At evening when Benjamin’s parents came home, he showed them the -dog, and the parents also were happy because they had to be away from -home all day and always feared that the little boy might go to the -river, fall in and be drowned. But now he would stay near the huts with -his playfellow, so that he might hide himself quickly in case the rich -man might pass by. - -It was as though the little grey dog knew that Benjamin had saved his -life. He did not leave the side of the little boy, obeyed him, and -showed himself to be quite intelligent. Benjamin spoke to him like to a -person, and the dog looked at him as wisely as though he understood -every word. - -Benjamin’s parents were young and strong, the best workers on the sugar -plantation. Therefore the severe overseer was satisfied with them and -beat them less often than he did the other slaves. On that account they -were both, in spite of their hard life, satisfied, and in the evenings -when they returned to their hut and their little Benjamin, all three of -them were gay and happy. - -Benjamin’s mother Hannah was also an excellent seamstress, she knew how -to weave pretty baskets from reeds and rushes, and was a very good -cook. - -One day the eldest daughter of the rich man, who lived with her husband -in the north, come to visit her father. She was glad to see her old -home again and everything seemed to her more beautiful than in the -north. She complained of the trouble she had in getting servants in the -city. “These whites are not nearly as desirable as the blacks,” said -she. “They cannot be driven to work with whips. You should present me -with a good slave, father, so that it will be more comfortable for me. -My husband will be quite angry about it, for the people in the north -are crazy, they claim that the blacks are also human beings, and that -slavery must be abolished. But he loves me dearly, and will be glad if -he sees me happy.” - -The rich man thought a while and said, “The young slaves that I own are -all clumsy, incapable; the old ones of course could not become -accustomed to living in a large city and would be more trouble than -help to you. Whom can I give you?” - -He considered for a moment, then cried happily, “Now I know, Hannah is -just the right one for you. How could I forget her? Of course, she has -a little boy....” - -“I don’t want him,” the daughter interrupted. “My dear little son must -not play with a dirty Negro child. You can keep Hannah’s son here.” - -“You are a good mother, my beloved child,” said the rich man, moved. -“You always think of your son. Good, Benjamin shall remain here and -when you go back to the city tomorrow, I will give you Hannah to take -along. I will immediately tell the overseer, so that he may tell her to -be ready.” - -And the rich man called a servant and bade him bring the overseer. - -Ah, what a sad night that was in the little hut of the Negroes. Poor -Hannah hugged her little son close in her arms and cried as though her -heart would break. Her husband Tom gazed at her with worried eyes and -was so miserable that he could not say a word. Hannah kept looking -anxiously toward the little window, trembling with the fear of seeing -the first ray of light that meant that day was near, when she would -leave her loved ones. - -The little grey dog seemed to understand the grief of his friends, he -nestled quite close to Hannah’s coat, looking up at them with loving, -clever eyes. Then Hannah cried loudly, “If they sell you, too, Tom, -what will become of our poor child?” The little dog laid his paw on -little Benjamin as though to say, “Don’t fear, poor mother, I will take -care of him.” - -Hannah noticed this, sobbingly patted the shaggy head of the dog, and -said to him, “Guard my little boy, you good dog. We are all as helpless -and deserted as you.” - -The following morning, poor Hannah, weeping bitterly, rode off with the -young woman. Her family was not allowed to see her off, for Tom had to -work in the field and Benjamin, like all the slaves, was forbidden to -come near the house of the rich man. - -Little Benjamin lived through many sad days. His father was so unhappy -that he no longer wanted to work, and many evenings he would return -home with his back all bloody. Instead of the caressing and joy to -which Benjamin was accustomed there was an unaccustomed silence in the -house. Tom sat sadly on the ground, sometimes stroking sadly the wooly -head of his little son, but never speaking. Only once in a while he -would cry out, “Hannah!” and sigh deeply, while great tears rolled down -his black face. And sometimes he would clench his fist, looking so -angry that Benjamin took the little dog and crawled into a corner with -him. - -The overseer was always unsatisfied with Tom, he complained to the -master of the laziness and obstinacy of the slave. Had poor Tom known -the results of his disobedience, he would have worked as industriously -as he used to, in spite of his anger and unhappiness. - -The rich man celebrated his birthday. There was a great feast, chickens -and calves and lambs were roasted, rich foods could be smelled all -through the house, the servants brought countless bottles from the -wine-cellar. After supper the young guests danced in the large hall, -the older men seated themselves at a table and began to play cards. - -The rich man had no luck, he lost again and again, until at last his -purse was empty. “One more game,” said he to his friend who had won all -the money, “We will gamble for my strongest and best slave.” And he -thought to himself, “If I lose Tom, that will not be a misfortune, for -lately he is lazy and obstinate, anyhow.” - -His friend agreed. The whole life and fate of a human being depended -upon a few cards, a bundle of paper. The rich man drew a card, his -friend did the same. They threw the cards on the table. The rich man -had lost. - -When Tom came to work the following morning, the overseer told him to -go to the house of the rich man, the master had sold him and his new -master would take him to his estate at once. - -That evening Benjamin waited in vain for the return of his father. -Night came, it was quite dark, and his father did not come. Benjamin -sat huddled on the threshold, peering anxiously into the darkness. The -little grey dog lay near him. He was sad and quiet, he seemed to feel -that something was wrong. At last Benjamin could stand it no longer, -ran crying to the hut of a neighbor, and asked about his father. The -stout negress informed him that a strange master had taken Tom with him -that morning; he was sold and would not return. - -Benjamin went home crying, afraid of the dark, holding the little dog, -his only friend, tight in his arms. And now something strange happened. -When Benjamin, sobbing, started to tell the little dog of this sorrow, -the dog began to bark softly. But it was not an ordinary bark, but -speech, and Benjamin understood very well the words, “Don’t cry, little -friend, I will take care of you and guard you. And some day we will go -to search for your parents.” - -Benjamin was so astonished at this, that he stopped crying. “What!” -cried he, surprised, “you can speak, like a human being?” - -The dog shook his shaggy head. “Yes, when the rich people act like wild -beasts against the poor people, we animals must help them. When a human -being is very unhappy and forsaken, he understands our language and -knows that we wish him well. I have not forgotten, little Benjamin, -that you saved my life. I want to thank you. Lie down on the straw, -sleep, I will watch over you.” - -A little comforted, the little boy obeyed, and the dog sat down near -him, guarding him all night, licking Benjamin’s hand with his warm -tongue occasionally. - -Then came hard times for little Benjamin. The stout lady who was his -neighbor took him to her hut, but she was not good to him. She forced -him to carry water from the river in a heavy bucket, and made him do -all kinds of hard work. And the worst was yet to come. One day the rich -man passed by the huts of the Negroes and saw Benjamin. “A strong boy,” -he said. “He can work in the fields already.” And from then on the -little boy had to work in the fields in the heat of the sun till he -thought he would die of weariness. - -At evening, tired, he would crawl into the hut, bury his head in the -hide of the grey dog, cry, and draw comfort from his only friend. - -One evening, his back all bloody and his face swollen, Benjamin came -home. The overseer had been in a bad temper, had beaten the little boy -with a whip and hit him in the face with his fist. - -“I want to die,” cried Benjamin, while the dog softly and gently licked -his wounds. “I can’t stand it any longer. My parents are gone, I am -entirely deserted, everyone is unkind to me. Dog, dear dog, what shall -I do?” - -“Run away,” replied the dog. - -“Where to? They will catch me and beat me again.” - -The dog thought hard for a while. - -“We must go north,” said he at last. “There people are better than they -are here. They do not want the Negroes to be slaves. We must run away -there.” - -“I don’t know the way,” complained Benjamin. - -“I will lead you. Morning and night, when everybody is asleep, we will -go.” - -And so it happened. The moon was a small white sickle in the sky, the -great trees tossed weird, black shadows on the earth, all was deathly -quiet, only once in a while the leaves rustled sleepily. Benjamin and -the dog ran softly on their tiptoes, out of the hut, and went toward -the great river. All night they wandered along the side of the river, -and when morning came the dog looked for a safe hiding place, for the -short legs of little Benjamin had not carried him very far, and there -was still the danger that the servants of the rich man might trace him. - -While the dog was running restlessly back and forth to find a safe -place, Benjamin sat on the bank of the river, letting his tired, -burning feet hang in the water. Suddenly he was dreadfully frightened -and drew his feet back hastily. A large pointed head thrust itself -through the water, a gigantic mouth opened, showing two rows of -dreadful teeth, and a deep voice growled, “A fine morsel, just right -for breakfast.” - -Benjamin screamed aloud and the dog came running quickly to him. Though -he was himself a little frightened, he whispered to Benjamin, “That is -an alligator. Step back and let me speak to him.” - -The little boy obeyed and the dog addressed himself with cajoling -courtesy to the alligator, saying, “Excuse us for having come to your -kingdom, mighty lord of the river, but we are fleeing from evil people -and know that you with your power will be good enough to defend us.” - -The alligator felt flattered, drew his gigantic mouth into a friendly -grin, and replied politely, “You are a clever animal. I am truly more -mighty than people, and,” he agreed pensively, “neither are we as bad -as they. But this creature that sat with his feet hanging in the water -is also a human being. Then why is he running away from his brothers?” -And the shiny, greenish eyes of the alligator looked distrustfully at -the dog. - -“You surely know, wise and mighty animal, that the rich people are -merciless to the poor, as though they were the wildest beasts. That is -because there is no more greedy animal than this man. He is never -satisfied, he always wants more: food and drink and houses, but above -all, gold. That makes him so mean. My little friend is a poor child who -must work for a rich man. He was torn away from his parents, and beaten -until the blood flowed. I advised him to run away. And now we beg that -you help us, for any moment the servants of the rich man may appear and -capture my little friend.” - -The alligator shook his pointed head thoughtfully and said: “People are -peculiar creatures. No alligator would torment a little alligator, -neither do we know the difference between rich and poor, and still it -is said that we are evil animals. It is true that I would like to eat -your little friend for breakfast, yet I will be merciful to him. I will -also show you a safe hiding place. Do you see that little island? The -servants of the rich man will not find you there.” - -“We thank you, mighty animal; but how can we reach the island? The -water is rough and deep, and my little friend can’t swim.” - -“I will carry you over on my back,” answered the alligator. - -Benjamin and the dog seated themselves on the scaly back of the animal, -and it began to swim. What a strange journey that was! The waves played -over the back of the alligator and the dog was afraid that the -alligator might change his mind and eat both of them for breakfast. For -that reason he spoke continuously to the alligator, flattered him, -praised his goodness and declared solemnly that the alligators are the -noblest animals in the world. This trick did not fail in its purpose. -When they landed on the island, the alligator called twelve of the -strongest alligators to him, instructing them that they must not harm a -hair on the boy or the dog, that they were his guests. He also -commanded them to swim along the bank of the river and stand guard, -keeping the people from coming to the island. This was well done, for -when the sun was high in the heavens, five men appeared, sent by the -rich man to look for Benjamin. One pointed to the island, started to go -into the water, when an immense alligator pushed his head out of the -water and the man crept back. “He can’t be there,” said the man to his -companions. “The alligators here must have eaten him.” - -Benjamin and the dog rested all day on the island. The little boy ate -the sweet berries that grew there, drank from a well, and at evening -the alligator carried them back again to the bank and bade them a -friendly farewell. - -Today traveling was more difficult than it had been yesterday, for -Benjamin’s feet were blistered, he groaned and complained at every -step. The dog comforted him, encouraged him, let him ride on his back a -little while though the boy was too heavy and after a few minutes the -dog’s bones would crack and he would have to lie down. Deep sorrow -tormented the dog, surely the servants of the rich man were somewhere -in the neighborhood, determined not to return home without the boy. And -even if they were not found, how far was it to the north? How will we -get there if Benjamin is already too tired to go further? - -Toward midnight they suddenly saw a fire burning on a meadow. People -must be there. The dog dragged the boy into some thick bushes, told him -to keep still, crept softly toward the fire. A pot hung over the fire, -and a blond man sat before it. Close by stood a wagon with large -wheels, to which a brown horse was harnessed. The dog looked at the man -very searchingly. He looked different from the people at home, had a -very light skin, kind blue eyes; surely he was a northerner. But was he -a good man? Then the dog remembered that only very good people -understand the language of animals, and the dog decided to tell him the -story of little Benjamin. Carefully he came closer to the fire and said -softly, “Good evening, man. Are you a northerner?” - -The man looked at him in surprise, but, oh joy, he had understood the -words and answered, “Good evening, my friend. Yes, I am a northerner. -Do you want to eat something? My supper will soon be ready.” - -“I am not hungry,” replied the dog. “But I want some help.” And then he -told the story of little Benjamin. - -The blond man became red with anger and his eyes sparkled. This made -the dog happy. “He is really a good man,” thought he, “for only good -people are angered by the sufferings of other people.” When he was -through speaking, the man said, “Bring your little friend here quickly. -My horse has rested enough. We will ride off immediately so that no one -can capture Benjamin.” - -How happy the little grey dog was! In spite of his weariness, he danced -with joy, wagging his tail, and started toward the bushes where -Benjamin was hidden. Then he saw something dreadful. A man came over -the meadow with a dog, which ran straight towards the bushes. The grey -dog howled with fright. The blond man looked up, jumped forward and -called to the dog, “Keep the man back just a moment, and all will yet -be well.” At that the dog ran toward the man. The man had reached the -bush, with one bound the dog leaped at his throat, bit it hard, did not -loosen his hold in spite of cuts and blows. - -In the meantime the northerner had taken little Benjamin in his arms, -ran hastily toward the wagon, jumped in, and called to the dog, “Follow -us, we will wait for you in a safe place.” Then he cracked his whip, -started on the road, the brown horse galloped ahead for it knew -everything that was going on. - -The grey dog still gripped the man’s throat, thinking every moment that -if he could detain the man, it would be an advantage to the good man -and little boy, and would save his friend. But the man, tired of -wrestling, took a large knife from his pocket and plunged it deep into -the breast of the faithful dog. The dog whimpered piteously and fell -heavily to the ground. His clouded eyes still saw, far off in the -distance, a tiny spot that kept growing smaller and smaller; that was -the wagon which was carrying little Benjamin to freedom. - -Great joy filled the dog’s heart. He wagged his bushy tail once more. -Then he died. - -The blond man and little Benjamin waited a long time in vain for the -grey dog. Benjamin wept bitterly, and his new friend comforted him: -“The brave dog will come running back. All is well with him.” - -But though Benjamin was safe, he was always sad when he thought of his -friend. But he did not know that the little grey dog had died for him, -paying his debt of gratitude to Benjamin with his life. - - - - - - - - -WHY? - - -Once upon a time there was a little boy, who had neither father nor -mother, who lived in the poorhouse in a little village. He was the only -child in the whole house; all the others were broken-down old people -who were always gloomy and cranky, who liked best to sit quietly in the -sun, and who would become angry whenever the little boy, while at play, -would bump against them or make too much noise. - -A sad life it was for little Paul. He never heard a kind word, no one -loved him, and no one petted or comforted him whenever he was unhappy. -Instead of that he was scolded every day and often he was even spanked. -One peculiarity of his particularly irritated the supervisors of the -poorhouse: at every occasion he used to ask, “Why?” always wanting to -know the cause for everything. - -“You mustn’t always ask why,” angrily declared the stout Matron who was -in charge of the poorhouse. “Everything is as it is, and therefore it -is right.” - -“But why have I no parents like the other children of the village -have?” insisted little Paul. - -“Because they are dead.” - -“Why did they die?” - -“Because the good Lord willed it so.” - -“Why did the Lord will it so?” - -“Keep quiet, you good-for-nothing! Leave me alone with your eternal -questions.” The fat woman was quite red with anger, because she knew no -answer to Paul’s questions, and nothing angers ignorant persons more -than to be forced to say, “I don’t know.” - -But no one was able to keep little Paul quiet. He looked right up into -the angry red face and asked further, “Why are you so impatient with -me?” - -Slap! and he got a box on the ears. He began to cry, ran away, and -while running asked, “Why do you hit me?” - -He came to the chicken yard. There stood a big hen with many-colored -feathers, cackling aloud, proudly strutting. “I have laid an egg! I -have laid an egg!” And from all sides of the yard there sounded in -chorus: “I have laid an egg! I have laid an egg!” The rooster, however, -was angry because the hens were so proud of having done something which -he could not do, and cried scornfully, “I am the rooster, you are only -hens!” Along came Mary, the little blond servant of the poorhouse, -gathered the eggs carefully into her blue apron, and carried them into -the house. - -“Where do all your eggs go to?” Paul asked the speckled Hen. - -“To the city,” she cackled. - -“Who eats them there?” - -“The rich people, the rich people.” Thus spoke the hen proudly, as -though it were a special honor for her. - -“Why don’t I ever have an egg?” complained Paul. “I am always so -hungry, you know.” - -“Because you are a poor Have-nothing.” And the hen spread her plumage -with dignity, and cocked her eye defiantly at Paul over her crooked -beak. - -“But why am I a poor Have-nothing?” - -Now the hen became angry as had the stout Matron, and raged: “Get off -with you! You make me tired with your questions.” - -Disappointed, Paul slipped quietly away. The garden door stood open, -and he stepped out onto the road, strolling along aimlessly until he -came to the entrance of a cowshed. The shed belonged to a rich farmer. - -Many sleek cows, white and reddish brown, stood in a row and gazed -before them with large, soft eyes. Paul, feeling very hungry, stepped -up to the most friendly looking cow, and begged, “Dear Cow, will you -give me some of your milk to drink?” - -“I dare not do that,” replied the Cow. “The milk belongs to the -farmer.” - -The little boy looked with astonishment at the Cow, then over the -entire shed, slowly counting the animals: “One, two, three.” Upon -reaching twelve he stopped, for although there were many more cows, he -stopped because the counting was too hard for him. In the poorhouse he -was taught to be gentle and obedient, but nothing else. “Twelve cows,” -he said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that the farmer can drink the -milk of twelve cows?” - -“Oh no,” the friendly Cow informed him. “He sells the milk in the -city.” - -Paul remembered the words of the speckled hen, and he asked, “Do the -poor children there get any of the milk?” - -“Good gracious, Paul,” sighed the Cow, “how stupid and inexperienced -you still are! From the milk they make delicious whipped cream, which -then goes on cakes and puddings, and these are bought by rich people.” - -“Why not by the poor—don’t they like to eat good cakes?” - -“You shouldn’t ask me so many questions, little boy,” replied the Cow. -“I am only a dumb Cow, and do not know what to answer you. Besides, you -had better go away. This is the time when the farmer comes to the barn, -and should he see you it might mean a good beating for you.” - -Paul stroked the shining hide of the friendly Cow, and pursued his way. -On and on he went, until he reached a great big wheat field through -which the wind was blowing. It looked like softly moving golden waves. -The ears sang with soft voices, sounding very sad, and Paul -distinguished the words: “Soon the reapers will be here with their -scythes, z-z, and will cut us down, z-z-z. Then the people will bake us -into fine white bread, z-z-z.” - -“Who eats the white bread?” asked Paul, who had never in his life -tasted a piece of white bread. - -“The rich people, the rich people,” sang the ears of wheat, swaying to -the rhythm of the wind. - -“Ah, again the rich people!” exclaimed Paul. “Does everything in this -world belong to the rich people?” - -“Everything, everything,” buzzed the ears. - -“Why?” - -This question seemed to amuse the ears very much and almost doubling -with laughter, they sang, “How silly, how stupid you are!” However, -they failed to answer Paul’s question. Paul was near to tears; he -stamped angrily on the ground with his foot, and cried loudly, “I -demand an answer to my questions. Is there no one to give me an -answer?” - -Just then a Porcupine crept slowly across the road and said, “The -wisest creature I know of is the Owl who lives in the great oak forest. -Why don’t you go to her, you question mark.” - -“Can’t you tell me why...?” - -The Porcupine did not permit Paul to finish; impatiently he drew in his -head, shot out his quills, until he looked like a ball covered with -spikes. - -“I do not associate with people,” he said, and his voice became as -sharp as his quills. “They are too stupid for me. Go to the Owl, but be -sure not to irritate her or she will gouge her eyes at you.” - -Night fell, sending out its black shadows, and covered all the land. It -was dark in the forest and Paul became somewhat uneasy, yet this -mysterious forest seemed more pleasant to him than the terrible -poorhouse, and he walked on further. - -The further he went the thicker and closer were the trees. Soon there -was no longer a path; but Paul pushed on over the soft carpet of green -moss. The fragrance of the forest was pleasant. Beneath the tall trees -grew delicious strawberries and the little boy picked them and -refreshed himself as he went along. - -At last he came to a great oak, and saw the owl perched on one of the -branches. The Owl wore a large pair of spectacles and studied -attentively a green sheet which she held in her claws. - -Paul halted beneath the tree and shouted, “Mrs. Owl! Mrs. Owl!” - -But the Owl was so deeply absorbed in her studies, that she did not -hear, and only after he had repeated his call several times did she -look down. Uttering an angry cry, she glared down at Paul with fierce -round eyes. - -“Well, what is it you want?” she asked. “How dare you disturb me in my -studies?” - -“Excuse me, Mrs. Owl,” begged Paul. “The Porcupine sent me to you. He -told me that you are the wisest creature he knows of. Surely, you will -be able to answer my questions.” - -“What matter the opinions of the Porcupine to me? What have I to do -with your questions?” growled the Owl. “Why should I waste my precious -time on such a stupid child as you? You know very well that I can see -only at night and the summer nights are so short that I have hardly -time enough for my studies. I, too, think over all kinds of questions. -One in particular has bothered me for countless years; I have grown old -and grey over it, and yet no science in the world has helped me to -solve it.” The Owl sighed deeply and her countenance became sorrowful. - -“And just what is this question of yours?” Paul inquired anxiously. - -“Do you think, perhaps, that YOU can answer it, you young saucebox?” -sneered the Owl. “Around this question hang all the other questions of -the world; it is: Why are all people so stupid?” - -“Are all people really so stupid?” asked Paul, astonished. - -“Yes, and if you don’t know that, why do you disturb me? Is it because -you have never seen anything that you are so idiotic?” - -“Very little,” replied the little boy shamefacedly. “You ought to know, -dear Mrs. Owl, that I live in a poorhouse, where there are only old -folks, and naturally they are all wise.” - -“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed the owl. It sounded most awful in the dark -forest. “Ha, ha, ha! You are certainly another splendid example of the -stupidity of mankind. So it is in the poorhouse that all people are -wise? Well, we will see if you are right. Who is it that you like best -in the poorhouse?” - -“Mary.” - -“Who is Mary?” - -“The maid.” - -“What does she do?” - -“She works all day long. She gets up at five o’clock in the morning, -and is the last one to go to bed.” - -“Then she most likely earns lots of money, wears beautiful clothes, and -eats good food?” - -“Oh no, she’s as poor as a beggar, she patches her clothes over and -over, and eats what other people leave.” - -“H-m-m. Well, why then does she work so hard if she gets nothing out of -it?” - -Little Paul thought a while, finally he said, “I don’t know.” - -“But I know—it is because she is stupid. Mary knows, too, that there -are fashionable ladies who don’t move a hand, who wear gorgeous -clothes, eat costly food, live in luxury. Hasn’t Mary ever asked -herself: How is it that I, who work all day long have nothing, and -they, who do nothing have everything?” - -“I believe not.” - -“Well then, your Mary is stupid, very stupid. Whom do you still -consider wise, you little sheep?” - -“Old Jacob.” - -“Who is this Old Jacob?” - -“He is an old laborer, he is eighty years old. He worked until his -seventieth year. Now he can’t do anything more, and has his hands and -feet and legs crippled by rheumatism.” - -“He worked sixty years for others! A pretty long time. I suppose that -Old Jacob is treated like a prince, everybody is terribly anxious to -serve him? He has a wonderful soft bed for his tired limbs, gets -special kind of food every day, lives well and happily?” - -“Oh no, the old matron always curses at him when he complains that the -bread is too hard for his old teeth. And if he asks for a little -tobacco, she gets angry and cries that he is unreasonable.” - -“Why then did Old Jacob work until he was seventy years old, if now -when he’s old he doesn’t even live well?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“Because he is stupid. He knows also, just like Mary, that there are -fine young gentlemen who do nothing at all and yet live like kings. Do -you see now, little imp, that people are stupid?” - -“Yes,” said Paul sadly. “But I would like to ask you something, dear -Mrs. Owl. Why are there rich people in the world?” - -“You really ought to be able to answer this question yourself after our -talk, little stupid head: Because the poor people are stupid.” - -“But why are they stupid?” - -But now the owl became angry, the same as the fat matron and the -brightly speckled hen. - -“Didn’t I tell you, little imp, you stupid little person, that I have -been thinking about this question for years and years? Come back again -eighty years from now, perhaps I will answer you then.” - -“But why...?” - -“Quiet!” the owl commanded little Paul. “You have stolen enough -valuable time from me already. Go to the Cuckoo!” - -“Where does she live?” asked the frightened little boy. - -But already the Owl had adjusted her spectacles, become absorbed in the -green leaf, and gave no answer. - -“Oh, poor me!” little Paul thought sadly. “Now I am to go to the -Cuckoo, and I don’t even know where she lives. Will the Cuckoo know -more than the Owl? And I am already so tired, my feet hurt me.” - -He sank down upon the soft green moss at the foot of a slender young -birch. Little by little he became very depressed. He was thinking how -he was altogether abandoned and alone, how nobody was good to him, and -all at once he began to weep bitterly. Thereupon he became aware of a -thin small voice coming from somewhere high up; it sounded like little -bells of pure silver. - -“Why are you crying, little child?” the silvery voice asked. - -Paul looked upward and he saw the most wonderful little creature he had -ever beheld in his life. Upon a branch of the birch sat a fairy. She -had long golden-blond hair, which reached down to her feet, her little -face was pale and delicate as moonlight, and her big eyes shone green -like the leaves of the birch. She fluttered down toward Paul very -lightly, alighted on his shoulder, it was as though a light leaf -touched him, and stroked his face with her tiny white hands. Paul’s -heart warmed. How good it was to be touched by tender hands! His tears -stopped, he stared at the little creature, and asked at last, “Who are -you?” - -“I am a Dryad, I am the soul of the birchtree,” declared the little -creature. “All day long I must sit in my tree, but when night comes I -am free, I walk about on the earth, play with the other Dryads, my -sisters. But tell me, for what reason are you sad?” - -Paul told the Dryad of his unhappiness, saying at the end, “I must -always ask why. The question burns in my heart, hurts me, and I believe -if I ever receive an answer I will be happy. But now this question -stands between me and all other people who do not ask the question like -a big wall and this makes me so lonesome.” - -The little Dryad laughed and her pretty face became sweeter and more -tender than before. - -“You are mistaken, little Paul,” she said softly. “You are not alone. -Hundreds and thousands ask the same question, sad and troubled. Put -your ear down to the earth and tell me what you hear.” - -Paul obeyed. At first he heard only an indistinct sighing and -whispering, then he thought he heard a terrible weeping and crying, and -at last he heard words. - -“Mother, I am hungry, why is there nothing to eat?” cried a child’s -voice. - -“I am stifling in this hot city, why can’t I go to the country like my -rich schoolmates?” murmured a boy’s voice. - -“I work all day, why are wages so low that I scarcely have enough to -live on?” sobbed a woman’s voice. - -“Why have the idlers everything and the workers nothing?” said a man’s -voice threateningly. - -And then all the voices rang together, crying, murmuring, sobbing, -threatening, “Why? Why?” - -Paul sat up, looked at the little Dryad who sat very quietly near him -and asked, “Who are these people whom I heard?” - -“They are your people,” replied the little Dryad. “That is your family. -You have heard all the languages in the world, you will hear questions -from all mouths, angrily, anxiously, threateningly. Every day new -voices join the chorus, and when the thousands of voices become -millions and billions, then there will be an end to the misery and -poverty and to those lazy parasites.” - -“When will that be?” asked Paul eagerly. - -“That I cannot tell you, I know only this—every time I put my ear to -the earth, I find new voices added and that is how I know that the day -is not far distant.” - -“And can nothing be done to make the day come sooner?” - -“Of course. There are many, many people who do not know yet how good it -is for other people and how bad their lives are; who work like beasts -and never ask why their honest labor brings a starvation wage. These -poor blind people must be shown the truth, and this is not at all easy, -because the poor are so tired from the day’s work that they can hardly -think; and the rich do everything not to awaken questions in the minds -of the workers. That is why they punish every one who asks, ‘Why?’ You -have already learned from your own experience, little Paul.” - -“Then I must continue asking questions?” - -“Yes, little Paul, but do not ask the rich, they will not answer you -because if they did they would have to say, ‘The world is such a bad -place for poor people because we, the rich, are greedy, selfish, vile,’ -and no person likes to say that about himself. But go to the poor -people, ask them, ‘Why do you eat dry bread though you work hard, while -the idle rich eat cake? Why are your children pale, thin and ill while -the rich children are rosy, fat and healthy? Why does your long life of -toil end in the poorhouse, whereas the lazy grafters are well taken -care of in their old age, resting luxuriously from their lives of -idleness?’ Ask the poor people these questions so long and so often -that they will fall on the structure of injustice like a hammer and -smash it. Will you do it, little Paul?” - -“Yes,” replied the boy with eyes alight. - -The little Dryad kissed his forehead and said earnestly, “Your life -will be hard, little Paul. The rich, who are afraid of losing what they -have robbed, will punish you. They will try to choke the question in -your throat, they will throw you into jail, that no one may hear your -voice. But you must not lose courage, for the question was not born in -you in vain, you are destined to speak before many thousands who are -today still dumb. And you will find comrades, friends—you will not be -alone.” - -The little Dryad nodded laughingly to Paul, swept lightly upwards, and -sat on a branch of the birch. - -“Are you going already,” asked little Paul, worried. - -“You must go home, little Paul. But you must always come back and I -will comfort you and help you.” - -“Wait a little,” begged Paul. “The Owl said in eighty years, not until -eighty years from now, she will be able to answer my question. That is -a long time. Did the Owl speak truly?” - -“That depends on you people,” replied the light, silvery voice of the -tiny Dryad. “Perhaps it will take you eighty years to become wise, -perhaps if you, you and your comrades, do not stop asking questions, it -may only take fifty years. The great day of freedom may come in twenty, -in ten years. Yes, perhaps even tomorrow.” - -The tiny Dryad disappeared into the tree, but all the tree called in -light, joyous voices to little Paul: - -“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!” - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY TALES FOR WORKERS' -CHILDREN *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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-} -.p46width { -width:646px; -} -.p48width { -width:606px; -} -.p49width { -width:651px; -} -.p51width { -width:484px; -} -.p52width { -width:526px; -} -.p54width { -width:569px; -} -.p56width { -width:564px; -} -.p61width { -width:219px; -} -.p62width { -width:440px; -} -.p66width { -width:663px; -} -.backwidth { -width:527px; -} -@media handheld { -} -/* ]]> */ </style> -</head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fairy Tales for Workers' Children, by Herminia zur Mühlen</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Fairy Tales for Workers' Children</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Herminia zur Mühlen</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: Ida Dailes</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Lydia Gibson</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 7, 2021 [eBook #66687]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ for Project Gutenberg (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY TALES FOR WORKERS' CHILDREN ***</div> -<div class="front"> -<div class="div1 cover"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody"> -<p class="first"></p> -<div class="figure cover-imagewidth"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="Original Front Cover." width="518" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class="div1 titlepage"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody"> -<p class="first"></p> -<div class="figure titlepage-imagewidth"><img src="images/titlepage.png" alt="Original Title Page." width="507" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class="titlePage"> -<div class="docTitle"> -<div class="mainTitle">FAIRY TALES<br> -<i>for</i><br> -WORKERS’ CHILDREN</div> -</div> -<div class="byline"><i>by</i><br> -<span class="docAuthor">HERMINIA ZUR MÜHLEN</span> -<br> -<i>TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY IDA DAILES</i> -<br> -COVER DRAWINGS AND COLOR PLATES BY LYDIA GIBSON</div> -<div class="docImprint"><i>PUBLISHED BY THE</i> <br> -DAILY WORKER PUBLISHING CO. <br> -1113 West Washington Boulevard Chicago, Ill.</div> -</div> -<p></p> -<div class="div1 copyright"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody"> -<p class="first xd31e122">Copyright by the <br>DAILY WORKER PUBLISHING CO. <br>May, 1925 -</p> -<p class="xd31e122">Printed in the United States of America by the Daily Worker Publishing Co. -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="toc" class="div1 contents"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<ul class="xd31e132"> -<li><a href="#rosebush" id="xd31e134">The Rose-bush</a> -</li> -<li><a href="#sparrow" id="xd31e138">The Sparrow</a> -</li> -<li><a href="#greydog" id="xd31e142">The Little Grey Dog</a> -</li> -<li><a href="#why" id="xd31e146">Why?</a></li> -</ul> -<p></p> -</div> -</div> -<div class="div1 foreword"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<h2 class="main">FOREWORD</h2> -</div> -<div class="divBody"> -<p class="first salute">Dear Little Comrades: -</p> -<p>The work of translating this little book of fairy tales for workers’ children is very -small in comparison to the joy I get from the knowledge that you, my beloved young -comrades, are going to enjoy it. -</p> -<p>You have read many fairy tales, some of them very beautiful and some that frightened -you with their horrible giants and goblins. But never, I am sure, have you read such -lovely stories about real everyday things. You see poor people suffering around you -every day; some of you have yourselves felt how hard it is to be poor. You know that -there are rich people in the world, that they do not work and have all the good things -of life. You also know that your fathers work hard and then worry about what will -happen if they lose their jobs. -</p> -<p>Comrade zur Mühlen, who wrote these fairy tales, tells us in a beautiful way how these -things can be stopped. All of us who work must learn that we can make the world a -better place for workers and their children to live in if we will help one another. -She shows us that the rich people who do not work but keep us enslaved are our enemies; -we must join together, we workers of the world, and stop these wrongs. -</p> -<p>Even the pretty, delicate Rose-bush knew how to use her thorns when the rich lady -came near her. The little Sparrow died while seeking a better land for the Sparrow -brothers, but he did not die in vain. The faithful little grey dog gave his life for -the Negro boy who had saved him from being drowned; and the Crocodile proved that -even an ugly, hungry beast can be more kind than a rich slave-owner. And our little lonely friend Paul learned that he must not stop asking why things -were wrong in the world, but that he must make comrades of all the workers and teach -them also to ask why, until millions would be asking that question and seeking to -find the answer to it. -</p> -<p>When you read these stories, I am sure you will want to lend the book to all your -friends, so that they too may spend some happy hours with the new friends you have -found in the book. -</p> -<p class="signed">Your loving comrade, -</p> -<p class="signed">Ida Dailes. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb1">[<a href="#pb1">1</a>]</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="body"> -<div id="rosebush" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e134">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<h2 class="main">THE<br> -ROSE-BUSH</h2> -<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb2">[<a href="#pb2">2</a>]</span></p> -</div> -<div class="divBody"> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p02width"><img src="images/p02.png" alt="“She Will Get Well”" width="553" height="720"><p class="figureHead">“She Will Get Well”</p> -</div><p> -<span class="pageNum" id="pb3">[<a href="#pb3">3</a>]</span></p> -<p>The Rose-bush did not know where she was born and where she spent her early days—it -is a well known fact that flowers have a bad memory, but to make up for that they -can see into the future. When she first became conscious of herself, she stood in -the middle of a magnificent green lawn. To one side of her she saw a great white stone -house, that gleamed <span class="corr" id="xd31e180" title="Source: thru">through</span> the branches of linden trees, to the other side stood a high trellised gate <span class="corr" id="xd31e183" title="Source: thru">through</span> which she could see the street. -</p> -<p>A thin tall man carefully tended the Rose-bush; he brought manure, bound the drooping -twigs of the Rose-bush together with bark, brought water for the thirsty roots of -the Rose-bush to drink. The Rose-bush was grateful to the man, and as the buds she -was covered with opened into dainty red roses, she said to her friend, “You have taken -care of me, it is because of you that I have become so beautiful. Take some of my -loveliest blossoms in return.” -</p> -<p>The man shook his head. “You mean well, dear Rose-bush, and I would gladly take some -of your beautiful blossoms for my sick wife. But I dare not do it. You don’t belong -to me.” -</p> -<p>“I don’t belong to you!” exclaimed the Rose-bush. “Don’t I belong to the person who -has taken care of me and troubled himself about me? Then to whom do I belong?” -</p> -<p>The man pointed with his hand to the gleaming white house among the trees and replied, -“To the gracious lady who lives there.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb4">[<a href="#pb4">4</a>]</span></p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p04width"><img src="images/p04.png" alt="Street with walking people and tram seen through trees." width="549" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -<p>“That can’t be,” replied the Rose-bush. “I have never seen this lady. It is not she -who has sprinkled water on me, loosened the earth at my roots, bound together my twigs. -Then how can I belong to her?” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb5">[<a href="#pb5">5</a>]</span></p> -<p>“She has bought you.” -</p> -<p>“That is something different. Then the poor woman must have worked hard to save so -much money. Good! Half of my blossoms shall belong to her.” -</p> -<p>The man laughed a little sadly, saying, “Oh, beloved Rose-bush, you don’t yet know -the world, I can see that. The lady did not lift a finger to earn the money.” -</p> -<p>“Then how did she get it?” -</p> -<p>“She owns a great factory in which countless workers drudge; from there comes her -wealth.” -</p> -<p>The Rose-bush became angry, lifted a bough up high, threatened the man with her thorn-claws, -shouting, “I see you enjoy yourself at my expense because I am still young and inexperienced, -telling me untruths about the world of men. Still I am not so stupid, I have observed -ants and bees, and know that to each belongs the things for which he has worked.” -</p> -<p>“That may be so among bees and ants,” the man sighed deeply, “yet among men it is -different. There the people receive just enough to keep them from starving—all else -belongs to the master. The master builds splendid mansions, plants lovely gardens, -buys flowers.” -</p> -<p>“Is that really true?” -</p> -<p>“Yes.” -</p> -<p>The man went back to his work and the Rose-bush began to meditate. Yet the longer -she thought, the worse her temper grew. Yes, even <span class="corr" id="xd31e211" title="Source: tho">though</span> she usually had very fine manners, she spoke roughly to a bee who wished to visit -her. The bee was still young and timid, and flew off in fright as fast as his wings -could carry him. Then the Rose-bush was sorry for her rough behavior, because she -was naturally friendly, and also because she might have asked the bee whether the -man had spoken the truth. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb6">[<a href="#pb6">6</a>]</span></p> -<p>While she was so engrossed in thought, suddenly some one shook her and a mischievous -voice asked, “Well, my friend, what are you dreaming about?” -</p> -<p>The Rose-bush looked up with her countless eyes and recognized the Wind, that stood -laughing before her shaking his head so that his long hair flew about. -</p> -<p>“Wind, beloved Wind!” joyfully exclaimed the Rose-bush, “You come as <span class="corr" id="xd31e220" title="Source: tho">though</span> you had been called. Tell me whether the man has spoken the truth.<span class="corr" id="xd31e223" title="Not in source">”</span> And she reported everything the man had said to her. -</p> -<p>The Wind suddenly became serious and whistled <span class="corr" id="xd31e227" title="Source: thru">through</span> his teeth so violently that the branches of the <span class="corr" id="xd31e230" title="Source: Bose-bush">Rose-bush</span> began to tremble. “Yes,” declared he, “all this is true, and even worse. I come here -from all over the whole world and see everything. Often I am so seized with anger -that I begin to rave; then the stupid people say, ‘My! what a storm!’ ” -</p> -<p>“And the rich people can really buy everything?” -</p> -<p>“Yes,” growled the wind. Then suddenly he laughed. “Not me. They can’t capture and -imprison me. I am the friend of the poor. I fly to all lands. In big cities, I station -myself before ill-smelling cellars and roar into them ‘Freedom! Justice!’ To tired, -overworked people I sing a lullaby, ‘Be courageous, keep together, fight, you will -conquer!’ Then they feel new strength, they know a comrade has spoken to them.” He -tittered, and all the leaves in the garden stirred. “The rich would like to imprison -me, because I carry the message, but I whistle at them. At night I rattle their windows -so that they become frightened in their soft beds, and then I cry, ‘Ho ho, you idlers, -your time is coming. Make room for the workers of the world!’ At that they are very -frightened, draw the silken covers over their ears, try to comfort themselves: ‘It -was only the wind!’ ” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb7">[<a href="#pb7">7</a>]</span></p> -<p>The Wind lifted one of his legs high and pushed it with all his weight against the -magnificent white house. The windows clattered, many things in the house were broken, -a woman’s voice shrieked. The Wind laughed, then drew his leg back and said to the -Rose-bush: “You also can do something, you flowers. Do not bloom for the rich idlers, -and the fruit trees should not bear fruit. But you are pleasure-loving and lazy creatures. -Look at the Tulips that stand up so sturdily all day, always saying nothing but ‘How -lovely we are!’ They have no other interests.” -</p> -<p>The petals of the Rose-bush became a deeper red, so ashamed was she of her sister-flower. -</p> -<p>The Wind noticed this and tried to comfort her. “You appear to be a sensible, kind-hearted -bush. I shall visit you more often. Give me one of your petals as a parting gift.” -He took a deep red petal from a full blown rose. “Be happy—now I must leave.” -</p> -<p>At that moment two poorly-dressed pale children came along the street. They stopped -before the gate and cried as <span class="corr" id="xd31e242" title="Source: tho">though</span> with one voice, “Oh, the beautiful roses!” The little girl stretched her hands longingly -toward the blossoms. -</p> -<p>“Wind, beloved Wind,” called the Rose-bush, as loud as she could. “Before you fly -away, break off two of my loveliest roses and throw them to the children. But be careful -that the petals do not drop off.” -</p> -<p>“Do you think I am so clumsy?” grumbled the insulted Wind, breaking off two handsome -roses, and blew them lightly, gently to the children. -</p> -<p>The children shouted joyfully, the Wind flew away, and the Rose-bush enjoyed the happiness -of the children. Her enjoyment did not last long. An angry voice scolded the children. -“What impudence is this, to steal the flowers out of my garden!” -</p> -<p>The Rose-bush saw a silk-clad lady with fingers that were covered <span class="pageNum" id="pb8">[<a href="#pb8">8</a>]</span>with rings threatening the children. Her smooth face was red with anger. The children -were frightened and ran off crying. -</p> -<p>The Rose-bush breathed deep with indignation and her breath blew sweeter perfume towards -the lady’s face. She stepped closer. “Ah, the beautiful roses. I had better pick them, -otherwise the rabble from the streets will steal them. And they are such an expensive -kind.” -</p> -<p>At this the Rose-bush became enraged, so that her blossoms blazed a fiery red. “If -I were only strong as the wind,” thought she, “I would get hold of this evil woman -and shake her so that she would become deaf and blind. Such a common creature has -a whole garden full of the most gorgeous flowers and begrudges the children for two -paltry roses. But you shall not have even one of my blossoms, you bad woman, just -wait.” -</p> -<p>And as the woman bent down to pick the flowers, the Rose-bush hit her in the face -with a twig, stretching out all her thorns like a cat stretches out its claws, and -scratched up the woman’s face. -</p> -<div class="figure floatLeft p08width"><img src="images/p08.png" alt="As the woman bent down to pick the flowers, the Rose-bush
hit her in the face with a twig." width="380" height="410"></div><p> -</p> -<p>She screamed aloud. The woman did not want to cease from her task, but the Rose-bush -was as willful as she; wherever the hand of the woman reached, a large thorn sprang -out and scratched her till she bled. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb9">[<a href="#pb9">9</a>]</span></p> -<p>At last the woman, with torn clothes, with scratched, dirty hands, had to turn back -home. -</p> -<p>The Rose-bush was completely tired from the heated struggle. Her many green arms hung -limply, her flowers were paler, she sighed softly. Yet she thought more deeply and -arrived at a mighty resolution. -</p> -<p>Late in the evening the Wind came flying to bid the Rose-bush good-night, and the -Rose-bush said to him solemnly, “Listen to me, Brother Wind, I will follow your advice, -I will no longer bloom for the idlers.” -</p> -<p>The Wind <span class="corr" id="xd31e268" title="Source: carressed">caressed</span> the leaves and flowers of the Rose-bush with gentle hands, saying earnestly, “Poor -little Rose-bush, will you have the strength for that? You will have to suffer a great -deal.” -</p> -<p>“Yes,” replied the Rose-bush, “I know it. But I will have the strength. Only you must -come every day and sing your song of freedom, so as always to renew my courage.” -</p> -<p>The Wind promised to do this. -</p> -<p>Then followed bad days for the Rose-bush, for she had decided not to drink any water, -that she might cease blooming. When her friend came with the water pot she drew her -little roots close to herself, that no drops might touch them. Ah, how she suffered! -she thought she would faint. In the day-time the sun shone, and she became more thirsty -every hour, always longing more for water. And at last, at evening came the longed -for drink, but she dared not sip the full draught, she had to turn away from the cool -precious liquid, to thirst again. After a while she thought she could not endure it. -But the wind came flying, fanning her, singing softly and gently, “Be brave, be brave! -You will conquer!” -</p> -<p>Day after day the Rose-bush gazed at the gleaming white house in which lived people -who had everything they wanted and then looked at the street where others passed by -with thin, pale faces <span class="pageNum" id="pb10">[<a href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>that were tired and sad, and this brought new strength to her heart. -</p> -<p>She became constantly more sick and more weak; her arms hung down feebly, her blossoms -dropped their petals, her leaves became wrinkled and yellow. The man who tended her -watched her sadly and asked. “What is wrong, my poor Rose-bush?” and he tried every -remedy he knew of to help her. But all in vain. One morning, instead of a handsome, -blooming Rose-bush, <span class="corr" id="xd31e281" title="Source: be">he</span> found a miserable, withered, dead bush. -</p> -<p>That could not remain there, the withered branches and flowers spoiled the handsome -garden. The gracious lady commanded that the Rose-bush be thrown out. As the man dug -her up, the Rose-bush gathered her remaining strength and whispered beseechingly, -“Take me home! Please, please take me home!” -</p> -<p>The man fulfilled her wish. He planted the Rose-bush in a flower pot and took her -to the poor, small room where he lived. His sick wife sat up in bed and said, “Ah, -the poor Rose-bush, she is as sick as I am, but you will nurse us both back to health.” -</p> -<p>The withered leaves and twigs moaned, “Water! Water!” And the man understood them -and brought in a jar of water. The Rose-bush drank. Oh! what delight this was! Eagerly -her roots sucked up the water, the delicious moisture passing <span class="corr" id="xd31e288" title="Source: thru">through</span> all her branches gave her new life. The next morning she could lift up her branches; -the sick woman was as happy as a child and cried, “She will get well!” -</p> -<p>And the Rose-bush really got well. In a short while she again became so beautiful -that the poor little room was as fragrant as a garden. The pale cheeks of the woman -became rosier every day, her strength was returning. “The Rose-bush has made me well,” -said she, and all the flowers on the Rose-bush glowed deep red with joy when she heard -these words. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb11">[<a href="#pb11">11</a>]</span></p> -<p>The man and his wife were kind people, they gladly shared the little they had, and -carefully broke off some roses to bring joy to tired people in other lonely rooms. -</p> -<div class="figure p11width"><img src="images/p11.png" alt="The pale cheeks of the woman became rosier every day." width="655" height="684"></div><p> -</p> -<p>The roses had other magic powers; the Rose-bush, in her days of struggle and suffering, -had learned the songs of the Wind. Now her flowers sang them very softly for their -friends, “Keep together! Fight! You will conquer!” Then the people said, “How strange! -The perfume of the flowers brings us new strength. We will fight together for a better -world.” -</p> -<p>But to the little <span class="corr" id="xd31e302" title="Source: chidren">children</span> the roses sang in a tender, loving voice: <span class="pageNum" id="pb12">[<a href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>“Little children, when you are grown up, you will no longer stand sadly before the -gate. The whole world will belong to those who work, the whole world!” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb13">[<a href="#pb13">13</a>]</span></p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="sparrow" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e138">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<h2 class="main">THE<br> -SPARROW</h2> -<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb14">[<a href="#pb14">14</a>]</span></p> -</div> -<div class="divBody"> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p14width"><img src="images/p14.png" alt="“So People Get Tired Too,” Thought the Sparrow" width="557" height="720"><p class="figureHead">“So People Get Tired Too,” Thought the Sparrow</p> -</div><p> -<span class="pageNum" id="pb15">[<a href="#pb15">15</a>]</span></p> -<p>Quarrel and disagreement ruled in the Sparrow family. Mother Sparrow squatted unhappily -in her nest all day and Father Sparrow swore and grumbled and found fault with everything. -The family that had once been so gay and happy was completely changed. And for all -this misery the youngest Sparrow was to blame. One evening at supper he had declared, -briefly and boldly, “I’m not going to school any more. I’ve had enough of being insulted -by those aristocrats. Above all, I’m tired of all this life. I want to go out into -the world.” He stuck up his bill and looked at his parents defiantly. -</p> -<p>Mother Sparrow was so shocked that all her feathers stood up. She started helplessly -at her naughty son, and all she could do was to say weakly, “Peep, peep.” -</p> -<p>But Father Sparrow opened his mouth so wide in anger that the worm he had meant to -eat slid quickly away. He was a person of action, did not believe in talking much, -and proceeded to beat his son in the face with his sharp beak. -</p> -<p>The young Sparrow screamed more defiantly than ever, “I won’t stay here any longer. -I’ve had enough. I’m going out into the world.” -</p> -<p>Then Mother Sparrow found her voice again and said tearfully, “You wicked child! That’s -how you thank your parents for their love. Haven’t we brought you up well? You are -the first sparrow in our village to attend Professor Swallow’s school of architecture -and learn to build artistic nests. You belong to the best society and mingle with -Swallows, Starlings and Yellow-bills. And this is how you repay us.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb16">[<a href="#pb16">16</a>]</span></p> -<p>“I don’t care a pin about fine society,” replied the excited young Sparrow. And he -whistled defiantly, “Tweet, tweet!” -</p> -<p>“No other Sparrow is studying such a respectable profession,” despairingly piped Mother -Sparrow. -</p> -<p>Then the young Sparrow began to make such a fuss that the whole nest shook. “A respectable -profession, truly a beautiful profession. To build nests in which others live. To -slave in the heat of the sun, carrying straws from all over, to weave them together, -to see that everything is just perfect—and then the fine ladies and gentlemen move -in, and throw me a little worm for my wages, hardly enough for a decent meal. Above -all, these fine people. The swallows, always dressed up in their frock-coats; the -Yellow-bills, always showing off their fine jewelry. And how they treat our own people, -full of pride and scorn. Common laborer, they call me. I’ve had enough of it. I’m -as good as they are, and maybe better.” -</p> -<p>Mother Sparrow shrank in horror, but Father Sparrow blew up until he nearly burst -and shouted, “Be silent, you lost soul, you whipper-snapper. You talk like a Bolshevik. -You forget that I am chairman of the Council of Jesters. My son must not rebel against -law and order.” -</p> -<p>“Yes,” exclaimed Mother Sparrow, “and suppose the neighbors should hear you! How dreadful!” -</p> -<p>The young Sparrow laughed shamelessly, seated himself on the edge of the nest and -whistled a revolutionary song. -</p> -<p>Father Sparrow rose hastily and grumbled in an undertone to his wife, “See to that -young fool and make him behave. I must go to the meeting of the Singing Society.” -He flew away without one look at his naughty son. -</p> -<p>Mother Sparrow sighed deeply and asked in a complaining voice, “Now what is it you -really want?” -</p> -<p>The young Sparrow came closer, nestled against his mother, and <span class="pageNum" id="pb17">[<a href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>said with a sweet smile, “I want to go away little mother, far away. To foreign lands -where it is always summer.” -</p> -<p>“But son of my heart, you know that even the stupid children of men learn in their -schools that the Sparrow is not a migratory bird.” -</p> -<p>“What is that to me? I can’t stand it here any longer. Always seeing the same things; -in the distance the old church steeple, here before our noses the farm-house, and -the dung-hill. No, I want to go away, far away.” -</p> -<p>At that he spread out his wings and pushed himself head first out of the nest into -space. It seemed very dangerous, but his wings carried him safely <span class="corr" id="xd31e343" title="Source: thru">through</span> the air. -</p> -<p>But the young Sparrow was by no means as joyous and light-hearted as he seemed to -be. The words of his parents had aroused all sorts of doubts in his mind. “Mother -was really right,” he said to himself. “The Sparrow is not a migratory bird. No one -has ever heard of a Sparrow that has flown across the great ocean and gone to foreign -lands. But why shouldn’t I be the first one to do this?” he asked himself, with defiant -courage. “Some one must always be the first one. If my venture succeeds, I will have -proven to all the Sparrow folk that they need not freeze and starve in the winter-time, -but can move to the warm countries and live happily. Certainly, the ocean.…” The young -Sparrow’s heart lost courage, he thought of what his teacher, the Swallow had once -told him about the great, wild water that never seemed to end, about the angry frothy -waves over which one had to fly daily. If one’s wings lost their strength, one fell -down and was lost. One was swallowed by the waves. -</p> -<p>At these thoughts the Sparrow almost wanted to give up the idea. He shrank together -and began shivering. Then suddenly he thought how in past hard winters many wretched -Sparrows had died of hunger and cold. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb18">[<a href="#pb18">18</a>]</span></p> -<p>“No, no,” said he to himself. “I must not be so cowardly. This matter does not concern -only myself, but all my brother Sparrows, all the Sparrows of future generations, -who will live when I have been long dead. It will be worth every danger and every -sacrifice if I can help them to a happier life.” -</p> -<p>And the brave young Sparrow decided to leave the next day. -</p> -<div class="figure floatRight p18width"><img src="images/p18.png" alt="Father returned late, and he was quite drunk." width="316" height="264"></div><p> -</p> -<p>He spent that night in his parents’ nest, nestled close to his mother, wept a little -secretly because it was hard for him to leave. Father returned late, and he was quite -drunk, threw himself on his bed so that it cracked and fell asleep immediately. -</p> -<p>The grey-white sky began to turn rosy, morning came flying on the wings of the wind -and brought light to the world. The young Sparrow awoke, looked for the last time -at his sleeping parents, and flew forth. He knew in which direction he must fly, for -he remembered the stories of the Swallows. Now he flew exactly that way. -</p> -<p>The sun climbed higher into the heavens, it became hotter and hotter, the poor Sparrow -could hardly breathe. His wings were so tired and sore that he could hardly lift them. -Still he flew further. He had resolved not to rest until the shadows would fall upon -the earth. -</p> -<p>Never had he lived <span class="corr" id="xd31e362" title="Source: thru">through</span> so long a day. Vainly his bright little eyes explored the heavens, but the great -golden sphere of the sun shone brightly, would not go down. -</p> -<p>“I was a fool,” thought the Sparrow. “Now I might be sitting at home in our nest, -or be bathing in the puddle by the cherry-tree. Ah, how pleasant it would be to bathe; -at this moment even the ocean would not be too large.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb19">[<a href="#pb19">19</a>]</span></p> -<p>Still he flew steadily on. But now he flew slowly, every beat of his wings caused -him dreadful pain. He began to hate the sun, this merciless glowing red sphere that -would not go down. To give himself courage, he made up a little song, singing it very -softly and moving his tired wings in time to its rhythm. -</p> -<div class="lgouter"> -<p class="line">“My cause is the cause of my brothers, -</p> -<p class="line">My strength must save them all; -</p> -<p class="line">If I fail I do wrong to the others, -</p> -<p class="line">And their chains will never fall.”</p> -</div> -<p class="first">At last, at last, great black shadows fell upon the earth. A refreshing breeze came -flying, coolly fanning the weary Sparrow, carrying him gently along on its mighty -wings. -</p> -<p>As the sun went down behind a blue hill, the tired Sparrow alighted on a large meadow. -He lay panting in the tall grass. The soft chirping of the crickets lulled him to -sleep; his eyes closed. -</p> -<div class="figure p19width"><img src="images/p19.png" alt="Under a knotty old nut tree he saw two ragged, dust-covered men seated." width="665" height="485"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Rough, loud voices of men awakened him. Under a knotty old nut tree he saw two ragged, -dust-covered men seated. One of them <span class="pageNum" id="pb20">[<a href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>pulled his torn boots off, looked woefully at his blistered feet and said, “I can’t -run any more, I must rest a day.” -</p> -<p><span class="corr" id="xd31e386" title="Not in source">“</span>Just another half hour,” the other man said comfortingly. “Just to the next railroad -station. There we will hide in a freight car and ride until morning. Then it will -not be far to the sea.” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow had listened carefully to their conversation. “So people get tired, too,” -<span class="corr" id="xd31e390" title="Source: thot">thought</span> he, “and then they ride. I don’t know what that means, but I know that one does not -tire oneself that way. If people ride, why shouldn’t Sparrows also ride?” He decided -to follow the men, and since they left in a short time he flew after them. -</p> -<p>They arrived at a house in front of which two shining bands were stretched on the -ground. Now night had really come. All was hidden in darkness, only the stars shone -faintly in the sky. The Sparrow stayed near the two men and waited. -</p> -<div class="figure p20width"><img src="images/p20.png" alt="Through the darkness a gigantic black beast came rattling." width="720" height="349"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Suddenly something dreadful appeared. <span class="corr" id="xd31e403" title="Source: Thru">Through</span> the darkness a gigantic black beast came rattling, its red eyes shining so brightly -that one could see them from a great distance, it puffed and panted, the earth shook -after it. It shrieked frightfully as it came near. Then suddenly it stopped. It let -out clouds of smoke from its long black nose. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb21">[<a href="#pb21">21</a>]</span></p> -<p>The Sparrow was astonished that neither of the two men, nor the rest of the people, -seemed to be afraid of the monster. On the contrary, they ran up to it, disappearing -in its smoke. Then the Sparrow saw that the monster pulled some black houses behind -it. He saw the two men sneak into one of these houses and flew on to the roof of the -same house. Scarcely had he settled himself when the monster again began to puff and -pant and started on its journey. -</p> -<p>The poor Sparrow thought he would die of fright. The monster rushed with such speed -that the little bird could not hear or see. At home he had often flown with the wind -for the sport of it and had enjoyed the swift motion. But this was altogether different. -He made himself very small, settled himself firmly, and believed his last hour had -come. If men called this rest they surely are strange creatures. Perhaps it wasn’t -so terrible where the people were. He was a clever Sparrow and when the monster stopped -again to take breath, he flew down from the roof of the house and examined it. The -door was not quite closed. The Sparrow squeezed <span class="corr" id="xd31e410" title="Source: thru">through</span> the crack, entered a dark room where many boxes were piled. He squatted on one of -the chests and waited to see what would happen. -</p> -<p>The monster began to run again. The Sparrow laughed with joy; now he had guessed right. -He sat here quietly, comfortably, and the monster had to slave to carry him further. -So this is what people call “to ride.” Truly, people are not so stupid as he had thought. -</p> -<p>The countless feet of the monster pounded over the earth singing a rattling, rumbling, -monotonous song. The Sparrow understood the words to mean “Into the distance! Into -the distance!” For a while he listened to the song, then he fell asleep. -</p> -<p>He must have slept a long time. When he awoke the sun was high in the sky and its -rays came into the dark room <span class="corr" id="xd31e417" title="Source: thru">through</span> narrow <span class="pageNum" id="pb22">[<a href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>cracks in the door. The Sparrow saw that his two acquaintances had hidden themselves -between two tall boxes. They seemed to be in good humor, chatting with one another -and laughing. -</p> -<p>“We have traveled a good part of our journey without trouble,” said the older one. -“Now we only have to walk another day and ride another night. Then we will reach the -ocean.” -</p> -<p>“How long will we have to swim?” -</p> -<p>“About five days.” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow was frightened. Five days he would have to swim over the endless waters, -five long days he could not rest or cease if he wished to save himself from sinking -into the waves. How could he endure it? He began to reflect carefully. Could men swim -so long in water? He had seen boys bathing in the village pond, yet they would come -out of the water in a short time and none of them ever remained in the water all day -long. But perhaps there were also tame monsters which carried men over the water. -Again he decided not to leave the two men and to do everything they did. -</p> -<p>When the two men jumped, unnoticed, off the freight train at a railway station, the -Sparrow followed them. He flew very close to them. He felt that they were both his -friends and so long as he would not leave them nothing would happen to him. -</p> -<p>All day long the men journeyed, walking <span class="corr" id="xd31e430" title="Source: thru">through</span> fields and meadows, <span class="corr" id="xd31e433" title="Source: thru">through</span> little villages with queer pointed church steeples. The younger of the two men limped, -he could only walk slowly. This was very pleasing to the Sparrow, because he did not -have to move fast, he could fly comfortably. When the men stopped, the Sparrow followed -their example, meantime seeking his food, as the long journey made him unusually hungry. -He also chatted with a few strange birds, all of whom advised him not to continue -his dangerous journey. The migratory birds looked him over scornfully, saying with -a sneer, “Do you believe you can do the same as we distinguished <span class="pageNum" id="pb23">[<a href="#pb23">23</a>]</span>people? To travel, to see the world, to spend the winter in warm countries—that is -not for common people.” -</p> -<p>An old blackbird minister, black-frocked and solemn, delivered a sermon to him from -a branch. “We must obey God’s commandments. God has ordained that Sparrows must spend -the winter in the north.” -</p> -<p>“If God has decreed that all our people shall freeze and starve and that only the -aristocrats, the Capitalists, like the Swallows and Starlings, shall fly away to the -warm places, I don’t want to know anything about him!” cried the Sparrow and his feathers -bristled up in anger. -</p> -<p>The old blackbird minister primped his shining feathers with his bill and growled -senselessly. But the Sparrow was sad. “How cruel the birds are to one another,” he -<span class="corr" id="xd31e442" title="Source: thot">thought</span> to himself. “I want to do something that will help all and am just laughed at. Can’t -anybody understand me?” -</p> -<p>“Hark, hark!” called a soft voice from a great height, and a young Lark shot downward -as swift as lightning to the side of the sad Sparrow. “I understand you. Everybody -jeers at me too, because I don’t fly close to the earth like they do, but always seek -to fly higher and higher, into the blue sky. Do not be downcast, beloved brother, -you will reach your goal.” -</p> -<p>The young Lark flew quite close to the Sparrow, looked at him and said, “Fly a little -for me, brother, so I can see how strong your wings are.” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow flew up, hovering over the Lark. -</p> -<p>As he returned she looked at him sadly and said earnestly, “Your wings cannot carry -you over the great ocean, my poor friend. But you must not give up on account of that, -you must do as men do, who cannot fly and yet travel all over the world. They <span class="pageNum" id="pb24">[<a href="#pb24">24</a>]</span>have invented a sort of house that swims over the water. They call it a ship. You -must.…” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow did not wait to hear the end. The two men had left during the conversation, -and now the Sparrow saw them in the distance looking like two dark spots. Frightened, -he cried. “My two men have left me,” and he flew after them as fast as he could. -</p> -<p>When it grew dark, the men once again sneaked into a freight train. The Sparrow followed -them and slept all night, while the black monster again took him over hills and mountains, -past rivers and streams. -</p> -<p>As dawn came, the two men crept out of the train and the Sparrow flew after them. -They walked for a little while, then the Sparrow saw an immense body of water lying -before him. Endless, extending beyond his vision, this blue-gray body of water extended, -and on its surface stormed wild, white-capped, monstrously high billows. -</p> -<p>So this was the ocean! Never had the Sparrow felt so small and helpless as at the -sight of this dreadful water. What was he in comparison to this? A poor, helpless -little bird, a tiny something. Deep sighs lifted his little breast, from his bright -eyes the tears fell. “If I were only at home, in the safe little nest,” cried he to -himself. “I could creep under mother’s wings as I did when I was little.” -</p> -<p>The waves roared dismally, threateningly; the white froth squirted upwards. The two -men walked unconcernedly on the damp, sandy ground. With beating heart the Sparrow -followed them. And then he saw something surprising. In a great bay some strange things -tossed. They were something like a house, but had few windows and tall chimneys from -which streamed heavy grey smoke; some things that looked like a forest; bare trees -without branches seemed to grow in it. <span class="corr" id="xd31e459" title="Source: Altho">Although</span> these trees bore neither fruit not leaves, the Sparrow was delighted to see them. -They gave him confidence. <span class="pageNum" id="pb25">[<a href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>He began to feel at home. But how strange it was that these houses with trees on them -were tossed up and down by the waves. Suddenly the Sparrow remembered the words of -the Lark. “Men call these houses that swim on the water ‘ships’.” So these were ships! -On one of these tossing, swimming houses he would journey to warm lands. -</p> -<div class="figure p25width"><img src="images/p25.png" alt="“Men call these houses that swim on the water ‘ships’.”" width="720" height="674"></div><p> -</p> -<p>But which should he choose? -</p> -<p>It occurred to him that at home the largest trees could best withstand the wind. Evidently -the same was true of ships, and so he must choose the largest. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb26">[<a href="#pb26">26</a>]</span></p> -<p>His two friends went to a small ship, and the Sparrow piped, “Good luck! Good luck!” -but they did not hear him. -</p> -<p>The Sparrow flew on to an immense ship from whose chimneys streamed great clouds of -grey smoke, and hid himself high up at the top of one of the leafless trees. -</p> -<p>What noise and excitement there was below. Countless people ran hither and thither, -calling and shouting to one another; something rattled, something clattered, the great -chimneys shrieked loudly. A bridge that attached the boat to the land flew up into -the air, then fell into the boat with a bang. The boat started on its journey. Slowly, -solemnly it cut <span class="corr" id="xd31e475" title="Source: thru">through</span> the water that bubbled on either side. The large house with the leafless trees, the -little bird’s new home, swam away from the land. -</p> -<p>The Sparrow’s mind was quite confused with the noise and hurry. And now another great -fright came to him. Suddenly a young fellow climbed up his tree. The Sparrow believed -that he wanted to capture him, but the fellow didn’t seem to notice him and after -a little while climbed back. As it grew dark, the boat became quiet and one could -only hear the noise of the waves. The Sparrow flew down from his tree and sat down -on the roof, where he soon fell asleep. -</p> -<p>When he awoke in the morning, he <span class="corr" id="xd31e482" title="Source: thot">thought</span> he would die of fear. The land had disappeared. Wherever he looked he saw only water; -great grey waves rolled against the ship, shaking it gently as a soft wind shakes -the nests in the trees. Nowhere a tree, a shrub, a flower. The boat swam all alone -on the great ocean, that would not end. -</p> -<p>The poor Sparrow felt quite lonesome and deserted. “If I could just find any bird,” -sighed he. “Even if it were a haughty Swallow or a strange Blackbird. At least I could -speak with some one who knows my world, who speaks my language.” Finally he lost all -his courage and began to weep bitterly. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb27">[<a href="#pb27">27</a>]</span></p> -<p>“Who are you?” suddenly asked a thin, piping voice, and the Sparrow beheld a little -mouse standing before him, who stared at him with large round eyes. -</p> -<div class="figure p27width"><img src="images/p27.png" alt="The Sparrow was happy, for he was acquainted with mice at home." width="392" height="99"></div><p> -</p> -<p>The Sparrow was happy, for he was acquainted with mice at home. He bent down and hopefully -answered the questions of the mouse. -</p> -<p>“You are a brave Sparrow,” she said, after she had heard his story. “I bid you welcome -to my ship.” -</p> -<p>“To your ship?” exclaimed the Sparrow. “I <span class="corr" id="xd31e497" title="Source: thot">thought</span> that the ship belongs to the people.” -</p> -<p>“The people also believe that,” replied the Mouse sharply. “But don’t you know that -people believe that everything belongs to them?” -</p> -<p>“That is true. The farmer at home believed that the church-steeple was his, and yet -it is quite clear that the church-steeple was made for us Sparrows.” -</p> -<p>While they were speaking thus, a very old mouse came over and began to speak. “Not -all people believe that everything belongs to them,” said she learnedly. “There are -also people who do not possess anything. You can observe that on the ship. Above live -people in large, beautiful rooms, and eat all day long. My mouth waters when I smell -the rich foods that are set before them.” -</p> -<p>“But down below the people are crowded together, so that they can hardly find place -to lie down at night, and many have only dry bread along with them to eat on the whole -journey. This stupid phrase ‘my boat’ you have also learned from men,” she said scolding -the mouse. “You know that the common things are ours. Don’t let me hear false words -from you.” -</p> -<p>“Excuse me, grandmother,” begged the young Mouse. -</p> -<p>“You are a stranger here,” said the Grandmother Mouse to the <span class="pageNum" id="pb28">[<a href="#pb28">28</a>]</span>Sparrow. “We will be helpful to you, so that you can endure the long journey. I advise -you not to fly to the rich people, they will play with you a day or two, and then -forget you. Indeed, it is only among the poor people, on the lower deck, that you -will find a few breadcrumbs, and these people will be good to you because they know -how a poor, unfortunate creature feels.” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow followed the advice of the wise Grandmother Mouse and soon realized that -she had spoken truthfully. The children were delighted with him, and they spared him -breadcrumbs from the few that were provided for their own little mouths. And because -they were children, they understood the language of the Sparrow, and chatted with -him. In this way the Sparrow heard many sad stories. The children told of poverty -and distress, how hard parents had to work and how often there was nothing to eat -at home. The honest Sparrow felt very sad to hear this. “There must also be a beautiful -land for men, where conditions are good and they do not have to hunger and freeze,” -said he to his little friend. -</p> -<p>“Perhaps,” said a pale little girl. “But we have not yet found the road to it.” -</p> -<p>“When I am big,” declared a little boy dressed in black, “then I will go out to search -for that land. When I find it I will lead all the poor people to it.” -</p> -<p>The two mice also visited the Sparrow often, they always came towards evening, when -all was quiet. -</p> -<p>So passed a long time, and one day the Sparrow saw land in the distance, saw houses -and trees and knew that now his goal was reached. -</p> -<p>The grey ocean had become quite blue and gleamed in the sunshine. It was very hot, -and Grandmother Mouse said that in this land there was no winter. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb29">[<a href="#pb29">29</a>]</span></p> -<p>When the ship landed, the Sparrow flew after his friends for a while and then contemplated -his new home. -</p> -<div class="figure p29width"><img src="images/p29.png" alt="All the people had brown faces and wore strange clothes." width="720" height="570"></div><p> -</p> -<p>All the people had brown faces and wore strange clothes. The faces of the women were -covered so that one could only see their large black eyes. He also saw queer animals -that walked on four legs and had great humps on their backs. Even the trees were different -than those at home, there were some with long pointed leaves and brown fruit that -the Sparrow relished. There was plenty to eat; here no Sparrow had to suffer hunger, -and there was no snow or cold. -</p> -<p>“Isn’t this also the right country for the poor people?” the Sparrow asked himself. -But then he saw that in this sunny land <span class="pageNum" id="pb30">[<a href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>there were also rich and poor, that some were richly dressed and others wore rags, -that some lazy ones rode in handsome carriages and some dragged heavy burdens. And -he <span class="corr" id="xd31e528" title="Source: thot">thought</span>, “It is much easier to find a Sparrow paradise than a land in which people may enjoy -happiness.” This pained him, because on his journey he had learned to love the poor -people. “But how strange this is. People can tame wild animals to carry them <span class="corr" id="xd31e531" title="Source: thru">through</span> all lands, they know how to build houses that swim on the water and yet they are -so poor and destitute and let a few evil wretches take everything for themselves.” -</p> -<p>Now that he had reached the warm country, the Sparrow rested from his long and wearisome -journey, flew about lazily, and spent each night in a different tree. -</p> -<p>One day he came to a beautiful green stream and flew along its course. He came to -a great, large plain. At first he thought he had reached the ocean again, but as far -as he could see lay fine yellow sand. In the distance he saw something rising out -of the sand which looked like a monstrous animal. He flew closer to it and saw that -it really was a gigantic creature with the head of a human being and two large paws. -It was made of grey-brown stone and was partly covered with sand. -</p> -<p>The ugly animal lay quite still and grinned angrily. The Sparrow curtseyed carefully: -would the beast wish to eat him? But no, it graciously acknowledged his greeting and -said: “I have been lying here thousands of years, yet I have never seen a bird like -you. Who are you? What are you doing here?” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow related his story and the great beast listened patiently. Then the little -bird inquired, “Will you tell me who you are? We have no animals like you at home.” -</p> -<p>The great beast laughed and replied, “People call me the Sphinx. I am so old that -I have lost count of my years; have seen everything, know everything.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb31">[<a href="#pb31">31</a>]</span></p> -<p>“In my country the Owls say that, too,” was the Sparrow’s pert remark. -</p> -<p>The Sphinx looked at him angrily. “The Owl is a conceited boaster!” he cried excitedly. -</p> -<p>“Excuse me!” stammered the Sparrow, frightened. “I did not wish to insult you. You -look much older than the Owl.” -</p> -<p>“Indeed I am. I count my years by the thousands.” -</p> -<p>“How much you must have seen!” cried the Sparrow. -</p> -<p>The Sphinx opened her gigantic mouth and yawned so hugely that the sand flew about -her as <span class="corr" id="xd31e549" title="Source: tho">though</span> a whirlwind had hit it. -</p> -<p>“Since the year 1000,” said she. “I always see the same; I see people who have riches -and joy, forcing their starving slaves to drudge. At first the slaves were driven -with whips which the overseer used to beat them with when they became tired from the -heat of the sun. Often these slaves were kept at work with chains on their feet so -that they should not run away. Later the whips disappeared, the masters bragged of -their kindness, saying, ‘In these progressive times, no man is a slave.’ But secretly -they concealed a dreadful whip, Hunger, and this drove the people to slavery as surely -as the whip they had used previously. I see people pass here, rich strangers who visit -this country out of curiosity, and see the poor Arabs, who work as muleteers and drag -heavy stones, and are barely kept alive with a few dates and a little corn, just like -their ancestors thousands of years ago.” -</p> -<p>The Sphinx became silent, gazing gloomily at the desert. Then she spoke again, “For -thousands of years there were gorgeously dressed, jeweled priests here, who belonged -in the same class as the rich people. They preached to the people, threatening them -with the anger of the gods if they became dissatisfied with their fate. Today these -priests are dressed in black, but they also lie and stand by the rich ones, they also -worship a God who was a bad mechanic. <span class="pageNum" id="pb32">[<a href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>It has always been the same, for thousands of years.” And again the Sphinx yawned. -</p> -<p>“Can’t you also see into the future, wise Beast?” bashfully questioned the Sparrow. -</p> -<p>“Yes, I can also see that. Listen to my words, little bird. A day will come when all -slaves will arise in a dreadful struggle against their oppressors. After long bloody -battles they will conquer and then there will be a new world, where everything belongs -to all the people and all people are free. Even today the earth trembles in happy -expectation, and in the quiet night I feel its trembling. For thousands of years I -have not spoken to any being, I will only speak again when the day of freedom dawns. -Then my voice will join in the jubilations of the freed people.” -</p> -<p>The Sparrow flew out of the desert where he could find nothing to eat, back to the -green stream, and enjoyed many pleasant days there. -</p> -<p>One day he was sitting on a stone on the bank of the stream, when he heard familiar -voices, “Tweet! Tweet!” -</p> -<p>He looked up and saw three Swallows who flew slowly toward him. -</p> -<p>“Are you here already?” the Sparrow asked in surprise. -</p> -<p>“Certainly, certainly,” twittered the Swallows. “At home rough winds are blowing, -the frost is in the meadows at night, winter is coming.” -</p> -<p>How frightened the Sparrow was at that. Here in this beautiful land where he had plenty -of fat worms and warm sunshine, he had forgotten about his Sparrow brothers. And in -the meantime the deadly winter had come! He must rush home to teach them how to reach -the sunny land. Would he reach there in time? How selfish he had been; if Sparrows -were freezing and starving at home, it was his fault. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb33">[<a href="#pb33">33</a>]</span></p> -<p>Even while he was thinking this he spread out his little wings and flew toward the -ocean. -</p> -<p>In the harbor many silvery-white Seagulls flew about, crying with <span class="corr" id="xd31e572" title="Source: shill">shrill</span> voices, “A storm is coming! A storm is coming!” -</p> -<p>“Which ship is going north?” he asked hastily. -</p> -<p>“None,” answered a Seagull; but this was not true, they were disagreeable birds and -wanted to frighten the Sparrow. -</p> -<p>But he believed them. “Then I must fly over the ocean,” thought he, fearfully. “I -must do it, for on me depends the life or death of my Sparrow brothers. I must make -good.” -</p> -<p>Sadly he looked back once more on the wonderland; then flew out on the great waters. -</p> -<div class="figure floatLeft p33width"><img src="images/p33.png" alt="Wild waves dashed up, the storm howled and rain fell." width="559" height="420"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Wild waves dashed up, the storm howled and rain fell. In a few hours, the Sparrow -was so tired that he could no longer fly high. The billows made his feathers wet, -they were heavy with the water and drew him deeper and deeper down. A monstrous wave -reached out for him with white arms and the Sparrow fell into the ocean and was swallowed -by the waves. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb34">[<a href="#pb34">34</a>]</span></p> -<p>For that reason the Sparrows must still freeze and starve every winter, for there -has not been another courageous Sparrow to show them the way to the sunny country. -</p> -<p>But had the Sparrow suffered so much and died in vain? -</p> -<p>No, the little black-haired boy on the ship had paid special attention to the story -which the Sparrow had told him and had listened to what the Sparrow wanted to do for -his Sparrow brothers, and this the little boy wanted to do for his fellow-humans. -He grew up, and wherever oppressed workers struggled against their oppressors, he -was the leader. But the story of the black-haired boy, of his life and his death, -is another tale and does not belong here. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb35">[<a href="#pb35">35</a>]</span></p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="greydog" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e142">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<h2 class="main">THE<br> -LITTLE GREY DOG</h2> -<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb36">[<a href="#pb36">36</a>]</span></p> -</div> -<div class="divBody"> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p36width"><img src="images/p36.png" alt="“The Little Grey Dog”" width="555" height="720"><p class="figureHead">“The Little Grey Dog”</p> -</div><p> -<span class="pageNum" id="pb37">[<a href="#pb37">37</a>]</span></p> -<p>He was an ugly grey dog with long silken-soft ears and a bushy tail. He was born in -a splendid stable that belonged to a rich man. This rich man lived on a large estate -in which were fields and meadows. And in these fields grew sugarcane, in great quantities, -great, round, smooth canes that contained the sweet sugar. On the sugar plantations -worked hundreds of Negroes, men and women, and the Negroes belonged to the rich man -who had bought them in the market as he would buy cattle, for this story happened -<span class="pageNum" id="pb38">[<a href="#pb38">38</a>]</span>long ago, in those days when slavery existed in America. The rich man could do anything -he wished with his slaves. If he was in a bad mood he would permit them to be whipped; -if they dared to protest against this cruel treatment they were more cruelly punished—they -were stripped naked, smeared with honey, and tied to a tree. The smell of the honey -attracted the bees that came in large swarms, settled on the body of the slave, sucked -the honey and stung the bound man till he collapsed with pain. Also, the master could -sell his slave, did this frequently, without the least consideration, tearing mother -from child, separating man and wife, sister and brother. The poor Negroes were completely -helpless, they had to work all day long in the hot sun, received very poor food, lived -in wretched huts, separated from the house of the rich man by a mighty river. Here -lived the Negroes, crowded together; the children played about in front of these huts, -played happily, because they did not yet know that they were slaves and that a hard, -difficult life awaited them. -</p> -<div class="figure p37width"><img src="images/p37.png" alt="On the sugar plantations worked hundreds of Negroes." width="720" height="511"></div><p> -</p> -<p>In one of the Negro huts arrived the little grey dog who had been born in the splendid -stable, and this is how it happened. -</p> -<div class="figure p38width"><img src="images/p38.png" alt="He noticed the little grey dog who was playing in the straw." width="581" height="475"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Once when the rich man walked <span class="corr" id="xd31e616" title="Source: thru">through</span> the stable, he noticed the little grey dog who was playing in the straw. He examined -the little dog, and said angrily to the coachman, “What is this ugly little creature -doing here in my beautiful stable? Take it out, drown it in the river.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb39">[<a href="#pb39">39</a>]</span></p> -<p>The coachman promised to do this; indeed he pitied the lively little animal, but the -master was strict and he did not dare to disobey the command. He called the little -dog, who came running joyously, and started toward the river. As he came near the -homes of the slaves, a little black boy ran out of one of the huts and cried, “O, -the lovely little animal! Where are you taking it?” And he ran quite close to them -and patted the dog, who mischievously jumped at him, barking. -</p> -<p>“I must drown the dog,” answered the coachman. -</p> -<p>At that the eyes of the little boy filled with tears, he took the dog in his arms, -held him close, and begged, “Don’t do it, just see how darling he is!” -</p> -<p>“I must do it, Benjamin. The master has commanded me. If I don’t obey him he will -punish me severely.” -</p> -<p>The little grey dog licked Benjamin’s face, looked at him with his large eyes that -seemed to implore him, “Save me, save me!” -</p> -<p>“Give me the dog,” pleaded Benjamin. “I will hide him well so that the master will -not see him.” -</p> -<p>The coachman thought for a moment, then replied, “Good, you may hide him. But,” he -said warningly, “you must not betray the fact that I have given him to you. If the -master should ever see him, you must say that you saved him from the river. Then he -will give you a bad beating.…” -</p> -<p>“That doesn’t matter,” cried Benjamin eagerly. “As long as the little dog is allowed -to live.” -</p> -<p>The coachman laughed, removed the string from the neck of the dog, and Benjamin ran -to the hut with him, patting him, kissing him, full of joy. At evening when Benjamin’s -parents came home, he showed them the dog, and the parents also were happy because -they had to be away from home all day and always feared that the little boy might -go to the river, fall in and be drowned. But now he <span class="pageNum" id="pb40">[<a href="#pb40">40</a>]</span>would stay near the huts with his playfellow, so that he might hide himself quickly -in case the rich man might pass by. -</p> -<p>It was as <span class="corr" id="xd31e635" title="Source: tho">though</span> the little grey dog knew that Benjamin had saved his life. He did not leave the side -of the little boy, obeyed him, and showed himself to be quite intelligent. Benjamin -spoke to him like to a person, and the dog looked at him as wisely as <span class="corr" id="xd31e638" title="Source: tho">though</span> he understood every word. -</p> -<p>Benjamin’s parents were young and strong, the best workers on the sugar plantation. -Therefore the severe overseer was satisfied with them and beat them less often than -he did the other slaves. On that account they were both, in spite of their hard life, -satisfied, and in the evenings when they returned to their hut and their little Benjamin, -all three of them were gay and happy. -</p> -<p>Benjamin’s mother Hannah was also an excellent seamstress, she knew how to weave pretty -baskets from reeds and rushes, and was a very good cook. -</p> -<p>One day the eldest daughter of the rich man, who lived with her husband in the north, -come to visit her father. She was glad to see her old home again and everything seemed -to her more beautiful than in the north. She complained of the trouble she had in -getting servants in the city. “These whites are not nearly as desirable as the blacks,” -said she. “They cannot be driven to work with whips. You should present me with a -good slave, father, so that it will be more comfortable for me. My husband will be -quite angry about it, for the people in the north are crazy, they claim that the blacks -are also human beings, and that slavery must be abolished. But he loves me dearly, -and will be glad if he sees me happy.” -</p> -<p>The rich man thought a while and said, “The young slaves that I own are all clumsy, -incapable; the old ones of course could not become accustomed to living in a large -city and would be more trouble than help to you. Whom can I give you?” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb41">[<a href="#pb41">41</a>]</span></p> -<p>He considered for a moment, then cried happily, “Now I know, Hannah is just the right -one for you. How could I forget her? Of course, she has a little boy.…” -</p> -<p>“I don’t want him,” the daughter interrupted. “My dear little son must not play with -a dirty Negro child. You can keep Hannah’s son here.” -</p> -<p>“You are a good mother, my beloved child,” said the rich man, moved. “You always think -of your son. Good, Benjamin shall remain here and when you go back to the city tomorrow, -I will give you Hannah to take along. I will immediately tell the overseer, so that -he may tell her to be ready.” -</p> -<p>And the rich man called a servant and bade him bring the overseer. -</p> -<p>Ah, what a sad night that was in the little hut of the Negroes. Poor Hannah hugged -her little son close in her arms and cried as though her heart would break. Her husband -Tom gazed at her with worried eyes and was so miserable that he could not say a word. -Hannah kept looking anxiously toward the little window, trembling with the fear of -seeing the first ray of light that meant that day was near, when she would leave her -loved ones. -</p> -<div class="figure floatRight p41width"><img src="images/p41.png" alt="Poor Hannah hugged her little son close in her arms and cried." width="496" height="431"></div><p> -<span class="pageNum" id="pb42">[<a href="#pb42">42</a>]</span></p> -<p>The little grey dog seemed to understand the grief of his friends, he nestled quite -close to Hannah’s coat, looking up at them with loving, clever eyes. Then Hannah cried -loudly, “If they sell you, too, Tom, what will become of our poor child?” The little -dog laid his paw on little Benjamin as though to say, “Don’t fear, poor mother, I -will take care of him.” -</p> -<p>Hannah noticed this, sobbingly patted the shaggy head of the dog, and said to him, -“Guard my little boy, you good dog. We are all as helpless and deserted as you.” -</p> -<p>The following morning, poor Hannah, weeping bitterly, rode off with the young woman. -Her family was not allowed to see her off, for Tom had to work in the field and Benjamin, -like all the slaves, was forbidden to come near the house of the rich man. -</p> -<p>Little Benjamin lived <span class="corr" id="xd31e663" title="Source: thru">through</span> many sad days. His father was so unhappy that he no longer wanted to work, and many -evenings he would return home with his back all bloody. Instead of the caressing and -joy to which Benjamin was accustomed there was an unaccustomed silence in the house. -Tom sat sadly on the ground, sometimes stroking sadly the wooly head of his little -son, but never speaking. Only once in a while he would cry out, “Hannah!” and sigh -deeply, while great tears rolled down his black face. And sometimes he would clench -his fist, looking so angry that Benjamin took the little dog and crawled into a corner -with him. -</p> -<p>The overseer was always unsatisfied with Tom, he complained to the master of the laziness -and obstinacy of the slave. Had poor Tom known the results of his disobedience, he -would have worked as industriously as he used to, in spite of his anger and unhappiness. -</p> -<p>The rich man celebrated his birthday. There was a great feast, chickens and calves -and lambs were roasted, rich foods could be smelled all <span class="corr" id="xd31e669" title="Source: thru">through</span> the house, the servants brought countless bottles from the wine-cellar. After supper -the young guests danced in the <span class="pageNum" id="pb43">[<a href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>large hall, the older men seated themselves at a table and began to play cards. -</p> -<p>The rich man had no luck, he lost again and again, until at last his purse was empty. -“One more game,” said he to his friend who had won all the money, “We will gamble -for my strongest and best slave.” And he thought to himself, “If I lose Tom, that -will not be a misfortune, for lately he is lazy and obstinate, anyhow.” -</p> -<p>His friend agreed. The whole life and fate of a human being depended upon a few cards, -a bundle of paper. The rich man drew a card, his friend did the same. They threw the -cards on the table. The rich man had lost. -</p> -<p>When Tom came to work the following morning, the overseer told him to go to the house -of the rich man, the master had sold him and his new master would take him to his -estate at once. -</p> -<p>That evening Benjamin waited in vain for the return of his father. Night came, it -was quite dark, and his father did not come. Benjamin sat huddled on the threshold, -peering anxiously into the darkness. The little grey dog lay near him. He was sad -and quiet, he seemed to feel that something was wrong. At last Benjamin could stand -it no longer, ran crying to the hut of a neighbor, and asked about his father. The -stout negress informed him that a strange master had taken Tom with him that morning; -he was sold and would not return. -</p> -<p>Benjamin went home crying, afraid of the dark, holding the little dog, his only friend, -tight in his arms. And now something strange happened. When Benjamin, sobbing, started -to tell the little dog of this sorrow, the dog began to bark softly. But it was not -an ordinary bark, but speech, and Benjamin understood very well the words, “Don’t -cry, little friend, I will take care of you and guard you. And some day we will go -to search for your parents.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb44">[<a href="#pb44">44</a>]</span></p> -<p>Benjamin was so astonished at this, that he stopped crying. “What!” cried he, surprised, -“you can speak, like a human being?” -</p> -<p>The dog shook his shaggy head. “Yes, when the rich people act like wild beasts against -the poor people, we animals must help them. When a human being is very unhappy and -forsaken, he understands our language and knows that we wish him well. I have not -forgotten, little Benjamin, that you saved my life. I want to thank you. Lie down -on the straw, sleep, I will watch over you.” -</p> -<p>A little comforted, the little boy obeyed, and the dog sat down near him, guarding -him all night, licking Benjamin’s hand with his warm tongue occasionally. -</p> -<p>Then came hard times for little Benjamin. The stout lady who was his neighbor took -him to her hut, but she was not good to him. She forced him to carry water from the -river in a heavy bucket, and made him do all kinds of hard work. And the worst was -yet to come. One day the rich man passed by the huts of the Negroes and saw Benjamin. -“A strong boy,” he said. “He can work in the fields already.” And from then on the -little boy had to work in the fields in the heat of the sun till he thought he would -die of weariness. -</p> -<p>At evening, tired, he would crawl into the hut, bury his head in the hide of the grey -dog, cry, and draw comfort from his only friend. -</p> -<p>One evening, his back all bloody and his face swollen, Benjamin came home. The overseer -had been in a bad temper, had beaten the little boy with a whip and hit him in the -face with his fist. -</p> -<p>“I want to die,” cried Benjamin, while the dog softly and gently licked his wounds. -“I can’t stand it any longer. My parents are gone, I am entirely deserted, everyone -is unkind to me. Dog, dear dog, what shall I do?” -</p> -<p>“Run away,” replied the dog. -</p> -<p>“Where to? They will catch me and beat me again.” -</p> -<p>The dog thought hard for a while. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb45">[<a href="#pb45">45</a>]</span></p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure floatLeft p45width"><img src="images/p45.png" alt="The overseer had beaten the little boy with a whip." width="571" height="547"></div><p> -</p> -<p>“We must go north,” said he at last. “There people are better than they are here. -They do not want the Negroes to be slaves. We must run away there.” -</p> -<p>“I don’t know the way,” complained Benjamin. -</p> -<p>“I will lead you. Morning and night, when everybody is asleep, we will go.” -</p> -<p>And so it happened. The moon was a small white sickle in the sky, the great trees -tossed <span class="corr" id="xd31e704" title="Source: wierd">weird</span>, black shadows on the earth, all was deathly quiet<span class="corr" id="xd31e707" title="Not in source">,</span> only once in a while the leaves rustled sleepily. Benjamin and the dog ran softly -on their tiptoes, out of the hut, and went toward the great river. All night they -wandered along the side of the river, and when morning came the dog looked for a safe -hiding place, for the short legs of little Benjamin had not carried him very far, -and there was still the danger that the servants of the rich man might trace him. -</p> -<p>While the dog was running restlessly back and forth to find a safe place, Benjamin -sat on the bank of the river, letting his tired, burning feet hang in the water. Suddenly -he was dreadfully frightened and drew his feet back hastily. A large pointed head -thrust itself <span class="corr" id="xd31e711" title="Source: thru">through</span> the water, a gigantic mouth opened, showing two rows of dreadful teeth, and a deep -voice growled, “A fine morsel, just right for breakfast.” -</p> -<p>Benjamin screamed aloud and the dog came running quickly to him. <span class="corr" id="xd31e716" title="Source: Tho">Though</span> he was himself a little frightened, he whispered to Benjamin, “That is an alligator. -Step back and let me speak to him.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb46">[<a href="#pb46">46</a>]</span></p> -<p>The little boy obeyed and the dog addressed himself with cajoling courtesy to the -alligator, saying, “Excuse us for having come to your kingdom, mighty lord of the -river, but we are fleeing from evil people and know that you with your power will -be good enough to defend us.” -</p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p46width"><img src="images/p46.png" alt="“Excuse us for having come to your kingdom, mighty lord of the river.”" width="646" height="717"></div><p> -</p> -<p>The alligator felt flattered, drew his gigantic mouth into a friendly grin, and replied -politely, “You are a clever animal. I am truly more mighty than people, and,” he agreed -pensively, “neither are we as bad as they. But this creature that sat with his feet -hanging in the water is also a human being. Then why is he running away from his brothers?” -And the shiny, greenish eyes of the alligator looked distrustfully at the dog. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb47">[<a href="#pb47">47</a>]</span></p> -<p>“You surely know, wise and mighty animal, that the rich people are merciless to the -poor, as <span class="corr" id="xd31e731" title="Source: tho">though</span> they were the wildest beasts. That is because there is no more greedy animal than -this man. He is never satisfied, he always wants more: food and drink and houses, -but above all, gold. That makes him so mean. My little friend is a poor child who -must work for a rich man. He was torn away from his parents, and beaten until the -blood flowed. I advised him to run away. And now we beg that you help us, for any -moment the servants of the rich man may appear and capture my little friend.” -</p> -<p>The alligator shook his pointed head thoughtfully and said: “People are peculiar creatures. -No alligator would torment a little alligator, neither do we know the difference between -rich and poor, and still it is said that we are evil animals. It is true that I would -like to eat your little friend for breakfast, yet I will be merciful to him. I will -also show you a safe hiding place. Do you see that little island? The servants of -the rich man will not find you there.” -</p> -<p>“We thank you, mighty animal; but how can we reach the island? The water is rough -and deep, and my little friend can’t swim.” -</p> -<p>“I will carry you over on my back,” answered the alligator. -</p> -<p>Benjamin and the dog seated themselves on the scaly back of the animal, and it began -to swim. What a strange journey that was! The waves played over the back of the alligator -and the dog was afraid that the alligator might change his mind and eat both of them -for breakfast. For that reason he spoke continuously to the alligator, flattered him, -praised his goodness and declared solemnly that the alligators are the noblest animals -in the world. This trick did not fail in its purpose. When they landed on the island, -the alligator called twelve of the strongest alligators to him, instructing them that -they must not harm a hair on the boy or the dog, that they were his guests. He also -commanded them to swim along the bank of the river <span class="pageNum" id="pb48">[<a href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>and stand guard, keeping the people from coming to the island. This was well done, -for when the sun was high in the heavens, five men appeared, sent by the rich man -to look for Benjamin. One pointed to the island, started to go into the water, when -an immense <span class="pageNum" id="pb49">[<a href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>alligator pushed his head out of the water and the man crept back. “He can’t be there,” -said the man to his companions. “The alligators here must have eaten him.” -</p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p48width"><img src="images/p48.png" alt="Benjamin and the dog seated themselves on the scaly back of the animal." width="606" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Benjamin and the dog rested all day on the island. The little boy ate the sweet berries -that grew there, drank from a well, and at evening the alligator carried them back -again to the bank and bade them a friendly farewell. -</p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p49width"><img src="images/p49.png" alt="“The alligators here must have eaten him.”" width="651" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Today traveling was more difficult than it had been yesterday, for Benjamin’s feet -were blistered, he groaned and complained at <span class="pageNum" id="pb50">[<a href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>every step. The dog comforted him, encouraged him, let him ride on his back a little -while <span class="corr" id="xd31e756" title="Source: tho">though</span> the boy was too heavy and after a few minutes the dog’s bones would crack and he -would have to lie down. Deep sorrow tormented the dog, surely the servants of the -rich man were somewhere in the neighborhood, determined not to return home without -the boy. And even if they were not found, how far was it to the north? How will we -get there if Benjamin is already too tired to go further? -</p> -<p>Toward midnight they suddenly saw a fire burning on a meadow. People must be there. -The dog dragged the boy into some thick bushes, told him to keep still, crept softly -toward the fire. A pot hung over the fire, and a blond man sat before it. Close by -stood a wagon with large wheels, to which a brown horse was harnessed. The dog looked -at the man very searchingly. He looked different from the people at home, had a very -light skin, kind blue eyes; surely he was a northerner. But was he a good man? Then -the dog remembered that only very good people understand the language of animals, -and the dog decided to tell him the story of little Benjamin. Carefully he came closer -to the fire and said softly, “Good evening, man. Are you a northerner?” -</p> -<p>The man looked at him in surprise, but, oh joy, he had understood the words and answered, -“Good evening, my friend. Yes, I am a northerner. Do you want to eat something? My -supper will soon be ready.” -</p> -<p>“I am not hungry,” replied the dog. “But I want some help.” And then he told the story -of little Benjamin. -</p> -<p>The blond man became red with anger and his eyes sparkled. This made the dog happy. -“He is really a good man,” <span class="corr" id="xd31e765" title="Source: thot">thought</span> he, “for only good people are angered by the sufferings of other people.” When he -was <span class="corr" id="xd31e768" title="Source: thru">through</span> speaking, the man said, “Bring your <span class="ex">little friend here quickly</span>. My horse has rested enough. We will <span class="pageNum" id="pb51">[<a href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>ride off immediately so that no one can capture Benjamin.” -</p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure floatLeft p51width"><img src="images/p51.png" alt="Then he saw something dreadful." width="484" height="553"></div><p> -</p> -<p>How happy the little grey dog was! In spite of his weariness, he danced with joy, -wagging his tail, and started toward the bushes where Benjamin was hidden. Then he -saw something dreadful. A man came over the meadow with a dog, which ran straight -towards the bushes. The grey dog howled with fright. The blond man looked up, jumped -forward and called to the dog, “Keep the man back just a moment, and all will yet -be well.” At that the dog ran toward the man. The man had reached the bush, with one -bound the dog leaped at his throat, bit it hard, did not loosen his hold in spite -of cuts and blows. -</p> -<p>In the meantime the northerner had taken little Benjamin in his arms, ran hastily -toward the wagon, jumped in, and called to the dog, “Follow us, we will wait for you -in a safe place.” Then he <span class="pageNum" id="pb52">[<a href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>cracked his whip, started on the road, the brown horse galloped ahead for it knew -everything that was going on. -</p> -<p>The grey dog still gripped the man’s throat, thinking every moment that if he could -detain the man, it would be an advantage to the good man and little boy, and would -save his friend. But the man, tired of wrestling, took a large knife from his pocket -and plunged it deep into the breast of the faithful dog. The dog whimpered piteously -and fell heavily to the ground. His clouded eyes still saw, far off in the distance, -a tiny spot that kept growing smaller and smaller; that was the wagon which was carrying -little Benjamin to freedom. -</p> -<p></p> -<div class="figure floatRight p52width"><img src="images/p52.png" alt="The little grey dog had died for him." width="526" height="375"></div><p> -</p> -<p>Great joy filled the dog’s heart. He wagged his bushy tail once more. Then he died. -</p> -<p>The blond man and little Benjamin waited a long time in vain for the grey dog. Benjamin -wept bitterly, and his new friend comforted him: “The brave dog will come running -back. All is well with him.” -</p> -<p>But <span class="corr" id="xd31e794" title="Source: tho">though</span> Benjamin was safe, he was always sad when he thought of his friend. But he did not -know that the little grey dog had died for him, paying his debt of gratitude to Benjamin -with his life. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb53">[<a href="#pb53">53</a>]</span></p> -</div> -</div> -<div id="why" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e146">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead"> -<h2 class="main">WHY?</h2> -<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb54">[<a href="#pb54">54</a>]</span></p> -</div> -<div class="divBody"> -<p></p> -<div class="figure p54width"><img src="images/p54.png" alt="“Why Didn’t I Ever Get An Egg,” Asked Paul" width="569" height="720"><p class="figureHead">“Why Didn’t I Ever Get An Egg,” Asked Paul</p> -</div><p> -<span class="pageNum" id="pb55">[<a href="#pb55">55</a>]</span></p> -<p>Once upon a time there was a little boy, who had neither father nor mother, who lived -in the poorhouse in a little village. He was the only child in the whole house; all -the others were broken-down old people who were always gloomy and cranky, who liked -best to sit quietly in the sun, and who would become angry whenever the little boy, -while at play, would bump against them or make too much noise. -</p> -<p>A sad life it was for little Paul. He never heard a kind word, no one loved him, and -no one petted or comforted him whenever he was unhappy. Instead of that he was scolded -every day and often he was even spanked. One peculiarity of his particularly irritated -the supervisors of the poorhouse: at every occasion he used to ask, “Why?” always -wanting to know the cause for everything. -</p> -<p>“You mustn’t always ask why,” angrily declared the stout Matron who was in charge -of the poorhouse. “Everything is as it is, and therefore it is right.” -</p> -<p>“But why have I no parents like the other children of the village have?” insisted -little Paul. -</p> -<p>“Because they are dead.” -</p> -<p>“Why did they die?” -</p> -<p>“Because the good Lord willed it so.” -</p> -<p>“Why did the Lord will it so?” -</p> -<p>“Keep quiet, you good-for-nothing! Leave me alone with your eternal questions.” The -fat woman was quite red with anger, because she knew no answer to Paul’s questions, -and nothing angers ignorant persons more than to be forced to say, “I don’t know.” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb56">[<a href="#pb56">56</a>]</span> -</p> -<div class="figure floatRight p56width"><img src="images/p56.png" alt="The fat woman was quite red with anger." width="564" height="587"></div><p> -</p> -<p>But no one was able to keep little Paul quiet. He looked right up into the angry red -face and asked further, “Why are you so impatient with me?” -</p> -<p>Slap! and he got a box on the ears. He began to cry, ran away, and while running asked, -“Why do you hit me?” -</p> -<p>He came to the chicken yard. There stood a big hen with many-colored feathers, cackling -aloud, proudly strutting. “I have laid an egg! I have laid an egg!” And from all sides -of the yard there sounded in chorus: “I have laid an egg! I have laid an egg!” The -rooster, however, was angry because the hens were so proud of having done something -which he could not do, and cried scornfully, “I am the rooster, you are only hens!” -Along came Mary, the little blond servant of the poorhouse, gathered the eggs carefully -into her blue apron, and carried them into the house. -<span class="pageNum" id="pb57">[<a href="#pb57">57</a>]</span></p> -<p>“Where do all your eggs go to?” Paul asked the speckled Hen. -</p> -<p>“To the city,” she cackled. -</p> -<p>“Who eats them there?” -</p> -<p>“The rich people, the rich people.” Thus spoke the hen proudly, as though it were -a special honor for her. -</p> -<p>“Why don’t I ever have an egg?” complained Paul. “I am always so hungry, you know.” -</p> -<p>“Because you are a poor Have-nothing.” And the hen spread her plumage with dignity, -and cocked her eye defiantly at Paul over her crooked beak. -</p> -<p>“But why am I a poor Have-nothing?” -</p> -<p>Now the hen became angry as had the stout Matron, and raged: “Get off with you! You -make me tired with your questions.” -</p> -<p>Disappointed, Paul slipped quietly away. The garden door stood open, and he stepped -out onto the road, strolling along aimlessly until he came to the entrance of a cowshed. -The shed belonged to a rich farmer. -</p> -<p>Many sleek cows, white and reddish brown, stood in a row and gazed before them with -large, soft eyes. Paul, feeling very hungry, stepped up to the most friendly looking -cow, and begged, “Dear Cow, will you give me some of your milk to drink?” -</p> -<p>“I dare not do that,” replied the Cow. “The milk belongs to the farmer.” -</p> -<p>The little boy looked with astonishment at the Cow, then over the entire shed, slowly -counting the animals: “One, two, three.” Upon reaching twelve he stopped, for although -there were many more cows, he stopped because the counting was too hard for him. In -the poorhouse he was taught to be gentle and obedient, but nothing else. “Twelve cows,” -he said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that the farmer can drink the milk of twelve -cows?” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb58">[<a href="#pb58">58</a>]</span></p> -<p>“Oh no,” the friendly Cow informed him. “He sells the milk in the city.” -</p> -<p>Paul remembered the words of the speckled hen, and he asked, “Do the poor children -there get any of the milk?” -</p> -<p>“Good gracious, Paul,” sighed the Cow, “how stupid and inexperienced you still are! -From the milk they make delicious whipped cream, which then goes on cakes and puddings, -and these are bought by rich people.” -</p> -<p>“Why not by the poor—don’t they like to eat good cakes?” -</p> -<p>“You shouldn’t ask me so many questions, little boy,” replied the Cow. “I am only -a dumb Cow, and do not know what to answer you. Besides, you had better go away. This -is the time when the farmer comes to the barn, and should he see you it might mean -a good beating for you.” -</p> -<p>Paul stroked the shining hide of the friendly Cow, and pursued his way. On and on -he went, until he reached a great big wheat field <span class="corr" id="xd31e849" title="Source: thru">through</span> which the wind was blowing. It looked like softly moving golden waves. The ears sang -with soft voices, sounding very sad, and Paul distinguished the words: “Soon the reapers -will be here with their scythes, z-z, and will cut us down, z-z-z. Then the people -will bake us into fine white bread, z-z-z.” -</p> -<p>“Who eats the white bread?” asked Paul, who had never in his life tasted a piece of -white bread. -</p> -<p>“The rich people, the rich people,” sang the ears of wheat, swaying to the rhythm -of the wind. -</p> -<p>“Ah, again the rich people!” exclaimed Paul. “Does everything in this world belong -to the rich people?” -</p> -<p>“Everything, everything,” buzzed the ears. -</p> -<p>“Why?” -</p> -<p>This question seemed to amuse the ears very much and almost doubling with laughter, -they sang, “How silly, how stupid you are!” <span class="pageNum" id="pb59">[<a href="#pb59">59</a>]</span>However, they failed to answer Paul’s question. Paul was near to tears; he stamped -angrily on the ground with his foot, and cried loudly, “I demand an answer to my questions. -Is there no one to give me an answer?” -</p> -<p>Just then a Porcupine crept slowly across the road and said, “The wisest creature -I know of is the Owl who lives in the great oak forest. Why don’t you go to her, you -question mark.” -</p> -<p>“Can’t you tell me why …?” -</p> -<p>The Porcupine did not permit Paul to finish; impatiently he drew in his head, shot -out his quills, until he looked like a ball covered with spikes. -</p> -<p>“I do not associate with people,” he said, and his voice became as sharp as his quills. -“They are too stupid for me. Go to the Owl, but be sure not to irritate her or she -will gouge her eyes at you.” -</p> -<p>Night fell, sending out its black shadows, and covered all the land. It was dark in -the forest and Paul became somewhat uneasy, yet this mysterious forest seemed more -pleasant to him than the terrible poorhouse, and he walked on further. -</p> -<p>The further he went the thicker and closer were the trees. Soon there was no longer -a path; but Paul pushed on over the soft carpet of green moss. The fragrance of the -forest was pleasant. Beneath the tall trees grew delicious strawberries and the little -boy picked them and refreshed himself as he went along. -</p> -<p>At last he came to a great oak, and saw the owl perched on one of the <span class="corr" id="xd31e871" title="Source: branchs">branches</span>. The Owl wore a large pair of spectacles and studied attentively a green sheet which -she held in her claws. -</p> -<p>Paul halted beneath the tree and shouted, “Mrs. Owl! Mrs. Owl!” -</p> -<p>But the Owl was so deeply absorbed in her studies, that she did not hear, and only -after he had repeated his call several times did <span class="pageNum" id="pb60">[<a href="#pb60">60</a>]</span>she look down. Uttering an angry cry, she glared down at Paul with fierce round eyes. -</p> -<p>“Well, what is it you want?” she asked. “How dare you disturb me in my studies?” -</p> -<p>“Excuse me, Mrs. Owl,” begged Paul. “The Porcupine sent me to you. He told me that -you are the wisest creature he knows of. Surely, you will be able to answer my questions.” -</p> -<p>“What matter the opinions of the Porcupine to me? What have I to do with your questions?” -growled the Owl. “Why should I waste my precious time on such a stupid child as you? -You know very well that I can see only at night and the summer nights are so short -that I have hardly time enough for my studies. I, too, think over all kinds of questions. -One in particular has bothered me for countless years; I have grown old and grey over -it, and yet no science in the world has helped me to solve it.” The Owl sighed deeply -and her countenance became sorrowful. -</p> -<p>“And just what is this question of yours?” Paul inquired anxiously. -</p> -<p>“Do you think, perhaps, that YOU can answer it, you young saucebox?” sneered the Owl. -<span class="corr" id="xd31e885" title="Not in source">“</span>Around this question hang all the other questions of the world; it is: Why are all -people so stupid?” -</p> -<p>“Are all people really so stupid?” asked Paul, astonished. -</p> -<p>“Yes, and if you don’t know that, why do you disturb me? Is it because you have never -seen anything that you are so idiotic?” -</p> -<p>“Very little,” replied the little boy shamefacedly. “You ought to know, dear Mrs. -Owl, that I live in a poorhouse, where there are only old folks, and naturally they -are all wise.” -</p> -<p>“Ha, ha, ha,<span id="xd31e893"></span>” laughed the owl. It sounded most awful in the dark forest. “Ha, ha, ha! You are -certainly another splendid example of the stupidity of mankind. So it is in the poorhouse -that all <span class="pageNum" id="pb61">[<a href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>people are wise? Well, we will see if you are right. Who is it that you like best -in the poorhouse?” -</p> -<div class="figure floatLeft p61width"><img src="images/p61.png" alt="“What have I to do with your questions?” growled the Owl." width="219" height="283"></div><p> -</p> -<p>“Mary.” -</p> -<p>“Who is Mary?” -</p> -<p>“The maid.” -</p> -<p>“What does she do?” -</p> -<p>“She works all day long. She gets up at five o’clock in the morning, and is the last -one to go to bed.” -</p> -<p>“Then she most likely earns lots of money, wears beautiful clothes, and eats good -food?” -</p> -<p>“Oh no, she’s as poor as a beggar, she patches her clothes over and over, and eats -what other people leave.” -</p> -<p>“H-m-m. Well, why then does she work so hard if she gets nothing out of it?” -</p> -<p>Little Paul thought a while, finally he said, “I don’t know.” -</p> -<p>“But I know—it is because she is stupid. Mary knows, too, that there are fashionable -ladies who don’t move a hand, who wear gorgeous clothes, eat costly food, live in -luxury. Hasn’t Mary ever asked herself: How is it that I, who work all day long have -nothing, and they, who do nothing have everything?” -</p> -<p>“I believe not.” -</p> -<p>“Well then, your Mary is stupid, very stupid. Whom do you still consider wise, you -little sheep?” -</p> -<p>“Old Jacob.” -</p> -<p>“Who is this Old Jacob?” -</p> -<p>“He is an old laborer, he is eighty years old. He worked until his seventieth year. -Now he can’t do anything more, and has his hands and feet and legs crippled by rheumatism.” -</p> -<p>“He worked sixty years for others! A pretty long time. I suppose that Old Jacob is -treated like a prince, everybody is terribly anxious to serve him? He has a wonderful -soft bed for his tired <span class="pageNum" id="pb62">[<a href="#pb62">62</a>]</span>limbs, gets special kind of food every day, lives well and happily?” -</p> -<div class="figure floatRight p62width"><img src="images/p62.png" alt="“She works all day long. She gets up at five o’clock in the morning, and is the last one to go to bed.”" width="440" height="593"></div><p> -</p> -<p>“Oh no, the old matron always curses at him when he complains that the bread is too -hard for his old teeth. And if he asks for a little tobacco, she gets angry and cries -that he is unreasonable.” -</p> -<p>“Why then did Old Jacob work until he was seventy years old, if now when he’s old -he doesn’t even live well?” -</p> -<p>“I don’t know.” -</p> -<p>“Because he is stupid. He knows also, just like Mary, that there are fine young gentlemen -who do nothing at all and yet live like kings. Do you see now, little imp, that people -are stupid?” -</p> -<p>“Yes,” said Paul sadly. “But I would like to ask you something, dear Mrs. Owl. Why -are there rich people in the world?” -</p> -<p>“You really ought to be able to answer this question yourself after our talk, little -stupid head: Because the poor people are stupid.” -</p> -<p>“But why are they stupid?” -</p> -<p>But now the owl became angry, the same as the fat matron and the brightly speckled -hen. -</p> -<p>“Didn’t I tell you, little imp, you stupid little person, that I have been thinking -about this question for years and years? Come back again eighty years from now, perhaps -I will answer you then.” -</p> -<p>“But why …?” -</p> -<p>“Quiet!” the owl commanded little Paul. “You have stolen enough valuable time from -me already. Go to the Cuckoo!” -<span class="pageNum" id="pb63">[<a href="#pb63">63</a>]</span></p> -<p>“Where does she live?” asked the frightened little boy. -</p> -<p>But already the Owl had adjusted her spectacles, become absorbed in the green leaf, -and gave no answer. -</p> -<p>“Oh, poor me!” little Paul thought sadly. “Now I am to go to the Cuckoo, and I don’t -even know where <span class="corr" id="xd31e941" title="Source: he">she</span> lives. Will the Cuckoo know more than the Owl? And I am already so tired, my feet -hurt me.” -</p> -<p>He sank down upon the soft green moss at the foot of a slender young birch. Little -by little he became very depressed. He was thinking how he was altogether abandoned -and alone, how nobody was good to him, and all at once he began to weep bitterly. -Thereupon he became aware of a thin small voice coming from somewhere high up; it -sounded like little bells of pure silver. -</p> -<p>“Why are you crying, little child?” the silvery voice asked. -</p> -<p>Paul looked upward and he saw the most wonderful little creature he had ever beheld -in his life. Upon a branch of the birch sat a fairy. She had long golden-blond hair, -which reached down to her feet, her little face was pale and delicate as moonlight, -and her big eyes shone green like the leaves of the birch. She fluttered down toward -Paul very lightly, alighted on his shoulder, it was as <span class="corr" id="xd31e949" title="Source: tho">though</span> a light leaf touched him, and stroked his face with her tiny white hands. Paul’s -heart warmed. How good it was to be touched by tender hands! His tears stopped, he -stared at the little creature, and asked at last, “Who are you?” -</p> -<p>“I am a Dryad, I am the soul of the birchtree,” declared the little creature. “All -day long I must sit in my tree, but when night comes I am free, I walk about on the -earth, play with the other Dryads, my sisters. But tell me, for what reason are you -sad?” -</p> -<p>Paul told the Dryad of his unhappiness, saying at the end, “I must always ask why. -The question burns in my heart, hurts me, and I believe if I ever receive an answer -I will be happy. But now <span class="pageNum" id="pb64">[<a href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>this <span class="corr" id="xd31e957" title="Source: qustion">question</span> stands between me and all other people who do not ask the question like a big wall -and this makes me so lonesome.” -</p> -<p>The little Dryad laughed and her pretty face became sweeter and more tender than before. -</p> -<p>“You are mistaken, little Paul,” she said softly. “You are not alone. Hundreds and -thousands ask the same question, sad and troubled. Put your ear down to the earth -and tell me what you hear.” -</p> -<p>Paul obeyed. At first he heard only an indistinct sighing and whispering, then he -thought he heard a terrible weeping and crying, and at last he heard words. -</p> -<p>“Mother, I am hungry, why is there nothing to eat?” cried a child’s voice. -</p> -<p>“I am stifling in this hot city, why can’t I go to the country like my rich schoolmates?” -murmured a boy’s voice. -</p> -<p>“I work all day, why are wages so low that I scarcely have enough to live on?” sobbed -a woman’s voice. -</p> -<p>“Why have the idlers everything and the workers nothing?” said a man’s voice threateningly. -</p> -<p>And <span class="corr" id="xd31e970" title="Source: than">then</span> all the voices rang together, crying, murmuring, sobbing, threatening, “Why? Why?” -</p> -<p>Paul sat up, looked at the little Dryad who sat very quietly near him and asked, “Who -are these people whom I heard?” -</p> -<p>“They are your people,” replied the little Dryad. “That is your family. You have heard -all the languages in the world, you will hear questions from all mouths, angrily, -anxiously, threateningly. Every day new voices join the chorus, and when the thousands -of voices become millions and billions, then there will be an end to the misery and -poverty and to those lazy parasites.” -</p> -<p>“When will that be?” asked Paul eagerly. -</p> -<p>“That I cannot tell you, I know only this—every time I put <span class="pageNum" id="pb65">[<a href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>my ear to the earth, I find new voices added and that is how I know that the day is -not far distant.” -</p> -<p>“And can nothing be done to make the day come sooner?” -</p> -<p>“Of course. There are many, many people who do not know yet how good it is for other -people and how bad their lives are; who work like beasts and never ask why their honest -labor brings a starvation wage. These poor blind people must be shown the truth, and -this is not at all easy, because the poor are so tired from the day’s work that they -can hardly think; and the rich do everything not to awaken questions in the minds -of the workers. That is why they punish every one who asks, ‘Why?’ You have already -learned from your own experience, little Paul.” -</p> -<p>“Then I must continue asking questions?” -</p> -<p>“Yes, little Paul, but do not ask the rich, they will not answer you because if they -did they would have to say, ‘The world is such a bad place for poor people because -we, the rich, are greedy, selfish, vile,’ and no person likes to say that about himself. -But go to the poor people, ask them, ‘Why do you eat dry bread <span class="corr" id="xd31e985" title="Source: tho">though</span> you work hard, while the idle rich eat cake? Why are your children pale, thin and -ill while the rich children are rosy, fat and healthy? Why does your long life of -toil end in the poorhouse, whereas the lazy grafters are well taken care of in their -old age, resting luxuriously from their lives of idleness?’ Ask the poor people these -questions so long and so often that they will fall on the structure of injustice like -a hammer and smash it. Will you do it, little Paul?” -</p> -<p>“Yes,” replied the boy with eyes alight. -</p> -<p>The little Dryad kissed his forehead and said earnestly, “Your life will be hard, -little Paul. The rich, who are afraid of losing what they have robbed, will punish -you. They will try to choke the question in your throat, they will throw you into -jail, that no one may hear your voice. But you must not lose courage, for the question -was <span class="pageNum" id="pb66">[<a href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>not born in you in vain, you are destined to speak before many thousands who are today -still dumb. And you will find comrades, friends—you will not be alone.” -</p> -<p>The little Dryad nodded laughingly to Paul, swept lightly upwards, and sat on a branch -of the birch. -</p> -<p>“Are you going already,” asked little Paul, worried. -</p> -<p>“You must go home, little Paul. But you must always come back and I will comfort you -and help you.” -</p> -<p>“Wait a little,” begged Paul. “The Owl said in eighty years, not until eighty years -from now, she will be able to answer my question. That is a long time. Did the Owl -speak truly?” -</p> -<p>“That depends on you people,” replied the light, silvery voice of the tiny Dryad. -“Perhaps it will take you eighty years to become wise, perhaps if you, you and your -comrades, do not stop asking questions, it may only take fifty years. The great day -of freedom may come in twenty, in ten years. Yes, perhaps even tomorrow.<span class="corr" id="xd31e1000" title="Not in source">”</span> -</p> -<p>The tiny Dryad disappeared into the tree, but all the tree called in light, joyous -voices to little Paul: -</p> -<p>“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!” -</p> -<div class="figure p66width"><img src="images/p66.png" alt="“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!”" width="663" height="362"></div><p> -</p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="back"> -<div class="div1 cover"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody"> -<p class="first"></p> -<div class="figure backwidth"><img src="images/back.jpg" alt="Original Back Cover." width="527" height="720"></div><p> -</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class="transcriberNote"> -<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2> -<h3 class="main">Availability</h3> -<p class="first">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project -Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at <a class="seclink xd31e48" title="External link" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/" rel="home">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</p> -<p>This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="seclink xd31e48" title="External link" href="https://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</a>. -</p> -<h3 class="main">Metadata</h3> -<table class="colophonMetadata" summary="Metadata"> -<tr> -<td><b>Title:</b></td> -<td>Fairy tales for workers’ children</td> -<td></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><b>Author:</b></td> -<td>Hermynia zur Mühlen (1883–1951)</td> -<td><a href="https://viaf.org/viaf/14823035/" class="seclink">Info</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><b>Translator:</b></td> -<td>Ida Dailes</td> -<td><a href="https://viaf.org/viaf/6162720968761091042/" class="seclink">Info</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><b>Illustrator:</b></td> -<td>Lydia Gibson (1891–1964)</td> -<td><a href="https://viaf.org/viaf/48590765/" class="seclink">Info</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><b>Language:</b></td> -<td>English</td> -<td></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><b>Original publication date:</b></td> -<td>1925</td> -<td></td> -</tr> -</table> -<h3 class="main">Encoding</h3> -<p class="first">Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. The inconsistent use of spellings -like ‘tho’, ‘thot’, ‘thru’, etc., has been normalized.</p> -<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3> -<ul> -<li>2021-11-05 Started. -</li> -</ul> -<h3 class="main">External References</h3> -<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These links may not work -for you.</p> -<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3> -<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p> -<table class="correctionTable" summary="Overview of corrections applied to the text."> -<tr> -<th>Page</th> -<th>Source</th> -<th>Correction</th> -<th>Edit distance</th> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e180">3</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e183">3</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e227">6</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e288">10</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e343">17</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e362">18</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e410">21</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e417">21</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e430">22</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e433">22</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e475">26</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e531">30</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e616">38</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e663">42</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e669">42</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e711">45</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e768">50</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e849">58</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">thru</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">through</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e211">5</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e220">6</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e242">7</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e549">31</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e635">40</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e638">40</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e731">47</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e756">50</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e794">52</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e949">63</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e985">65</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">tho</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">though</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e223">6</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e1000">66</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom"> -[<i>Not in source</i>] -</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">”</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e230">6</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Bose-bush</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Rose-bush</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e268">9</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">carressed</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">caressed</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e281">10</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">be</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">he</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e302">11</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">chidren</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">children</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e386">20</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e885">60</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom"> -[<i>Not in source</i>] -</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">“</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e390">20</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e442">23</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e482">26</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e497">27</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e528">30</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e765">50</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">thot</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">thought</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e397">20</a>, <a class="pageref" href="#xd31e403">20</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Thru</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Through</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e459">24</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Altho</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Although</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e572">33</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">shill</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">shrill</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e704">45</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">wierd</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">weird</td> -<td class="bottom">2</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e707">45</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom"> -[<i>Not in source</i>] -</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">,</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e716">45</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Tho</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">Though</td> -<td class="bottom">3</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e871">59</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">branchs</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">branches</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e893">60</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">’</td> -<td class="width40 bottom"> -[<i>Deleted</i>] -</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e941">63</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">he</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">she</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e957">64</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">qustion</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">question</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e970">64</a></td> -<td class="width40 bottom">than</td> -<td class="width40 bottom">then</td> -<td class="bottom">1</td> -</tr> -</table> -</div> -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRY TALES FOR WORKERS' CHILDREN ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old 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