Speaker 1: Nature. Myths and Stories for Little Children by Flora J. Cook.
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. Preface, Feeling the great need of
stories founded upon good literature, which are within the comprehension
of little children, I have written the following stories, hoping
that they may suggest to primary teachers the great wealth
of material within our reach. Many teachers who firmly believe
that reading should be something more than mere word getting
while the child's reading habit is forming, are practically helpless
without the use of a printing press. We will all
agree that myths and fables are usually beautiful truths clothed
in fancy, and the dress is almost always simple and transparent.
Who can study these myths and not feel that nature
has a new language for him, and that though the
tales may be thousands of years old, they are quite
as true as they were in the days of Homer.
If the trees and the flowers, the clouds in the
wind all tell wonderful stories to the child, he has
sources of happiness of which no power can deprive him,
and When we consider that here too is the key
which unlocks so much of the best in art and literature,
we feel that we cannot rank too highly the importance
of the myth. In the primary school room, for instance,
the child has been observing, reading, and writing about the sun,
the moon, the direction of the wind, the trees, the flowers,
or the forces that are acting around him. He has
had the songs, poems, and pictures connected with these lessons
to further enhance his thought, interest and observation. He is
now given a beautiful myth. He is not expected to
interpret it. It is presented for the same purpose that
a good picture is placed before him. He feels its beauty,
but does not analyze it. If through his observation or
something in his experience, he does see a meaning in
the story, he has entered a new world of life
and beauty. Then comes the question to every thoughtful teacher.
Can the repetition of words necessary to the growth of
the child's vocabulary be obtained in this way? This may
be accomplished if the teacher, in planning her year's work,
sees a close relation between the science, literature and number work,
so that the same words are always recurring and the
interest in each line of work is constant and ever increasing.
The following stories are suggested in the standard books of
Mythology and Poetry, and have been tested and found to
be very helpful in the first and third grades. A
full list of myths, history, stories and fairy tales for
the children in the different grades can be found in
Emily J. Rice's Course of Study in History and Literature,
which can be obtained of a Flanagan number two sixty two,
Wabish Avenue, Chicago, end of preface Nature Myths and Stories
for Little Children by Flora J. Cook. This LibriVox recording
is in the public domain. Animal Stories, The Donkey and
the Salt. One time a merchant went to the seashore
for a load of salt. There were many hills and
streams to cross on the journey. As the path was
narrow and rocky, the man made his donkey carry the
salt in large bags upon his back. It was a
warm day, and the donkey did not like his heavy load.
He hung down his head and went as slowly as
he could. After a while, they came to a stream
which had only a footbridge over it. The donkey went
through the water splash, splash, splash. In the middle of
the stream was a large stone which he did not see.
He stumbled and fell, and the water ran over the
bags of salt. Soon the donkey was glad that he
had fallen, for he found his load much lighter. They
came to another stream, but though donkey did not stumble,
this time, he lay down in the middle of the brook.
He was a wise donkey. This time he lost so
much salt that his master was angry, for he was
obliged to go back to the seashore for another load.
As they were walking along, the merchant laughed to himself.
He thought he knew a way to cure the donkey
of this trick. When they came to the seashore, he
filled the bags with sponges and started for home. The
donkey thought, what a light load I have, and trotted
gaily along over the rough road. Again they came to
the brook, ah, thought the donkey, I will make my
load still lighter. He lay down in the middle of
the brook. This time he found his load so heavy
that he could scarcely rise. His master kindly they helped him,
but the donkey was not happy. The water ran down
his sides and made him more miserable. Oh, thought he,
I will never lie down in the water again. Once more,
his master led him back to the seashore. He filled
the bags with salt. The donkey was wiser now and
carried the salt safely home. The end The Fox and
the Stork. A fox met a stork and invited him
to dinner with all my heart, friend, said the stork.
When they arrived at the home of the fox and
dinner was served, he was not so happy. The fox
had fine hot soup, but he served it in shallow plates.
The poor stork could only stand by and watch the
fox eat. The fox seemed to think that it was
a very good joke. The next day, the stork met
the fox and invited him to dinner. The stork brought
out fine hot soup in a high, narrow necked bottle,
but the fox could not see the joke at all.
The stork said, friend, Fox, enjoy your dinner. I hope
that the soup is as well flavored as yours was yesterday.
As he said this, he poured out half of the
soup into a bowl and set it before the fox.
The cunning old fox felt so ashamed that he has
never looked anyone straight in the face since that day,
the end the grateful Foxes. It was springtime in Japan,
and the blossoms hung thick on the cherry trees. Butterflies
and dragonflies fluttered over the golden cals of in the fields.
The rice birds chirped merrily. Everything seemed to say how
good it is to live in days like these. A
beautiful princess o'haro San sat at the bank of a stream,
gaily pulling the lilies. All the maidens of her court
were with her. Along the river bank came a troop
of noisy, laughing boys carrying a young cub fox. They
were trying to decide who should have its skin and
who its liver. At a safe distance from them, in
a bamboo thicket, father fox and mother Fox sat looking
sadly after their little cub. The Princess's heart was filled
with pity, and she said, boys, pray lose the little fox.
See his parents weeping in the rocks. The boys shook
their heads. We shall sell the fox's skin, they said.
The liver, too, if well powdered, will be used to
cure fevers in the fall. Listen cried, o'hrew san, it
is springtime and everything rejoices. How can you kill such
a small soft beast? See here is twice your price.
Take it all, And she drew copper money and silver
money from her girdle. The boys placed the little frightened
animal in her lap and ran away. Please to be
so rich, the cub felt the touch of her soft
hand and trembled no longer. She loosened carefully the knot
and noose and string. She stroked the red fur smooth again,
and bound up the little bleeding leg. She offered it
rice and fish to eat, but the black eyes plainly said,
this is very nice, But I hear my parents grieving
near yonder beanstraw stack. I longed to go and comfort them.
She set the little fox gently on the ground, and,
forgetting its wounded leg, it leaped through the bushes in
one happy bound. The two old foxes gravely looked it
over neck and breast. They licked it from its bushy
tail to its smooth brown crown. Then, sitting up on
their haunches, they gave two sharp barks of gratitude. That
was their way of saying, we send you, thinks sweet maid.
As she walked home by the river side. All the
world seemed more beautiful to o'haroo San. The summer time came,
and the blossoms upon the cherry trees became rich, ripe fruit,
But there was no joy in the emperor's house. His daughter,
the gentle O'hou's son, was ill. She grew paler and
weaker each day. Physicians came from far and near and
shook their wise heads gravely. When the emperor's magician saw her,
he said, no one can heal such sickness. A charm
falls upon her every night, which steals away her strength.
He alone can break the spell. Who with sleepless eyes
can watch beside her bedside until sunrise. Gray haired nurses
sat by her until morning, but a deep sleep fell
upon them at midnight. Next four score maidens of the court,
who loved her well, kept bright lights burning all the night,
yet they too fell asleep. Five councilors of state watched
with her father at the bedside, though they propped their
eyes open with their fingers. Yet in the middle of
the night, slumber overcame them. All believed that the gentle
maid must die. The emperor was in despair, but Io,
a brave soldier, said, I shall not sleep. Let me
one night guard the sweet Oharu San. Her father led
him to the chamber just at midnight. I too felt
his eyes grow heavy. He rose and held his sword
above his head. Rather will I die than sleep, he said.
Then came a great struggle. Often his head nodded, but
by his love and strength, Io conquered sleep. Suddenly he
heard a voice which said, great foxes livers in the
princess's rice broth, and all her ills will disappear. The
next morning, the hunters searched far and near for foxes.
They knew that to the Emperor a fox was worth
its weight in gold. All day and night they were
in the woods, without food or rest. At last they
came sadly back to their homes. They brought no fox.
All the foxes know, they said, and had hidden themselves away.
The Emperor, in grief and anger, cried, must my child perish?
Shall a princess die for the lack of one poor fox?
She was never willing that one should be slain, and
this is her reward? Ito said, I will get the fox.
He started out with knife and ned to seek it.
At the entrance of the town, he met a woman
dressed in strange garments, very small and stooped. She seemed
to Itto. She carried a jar in her arms. She
bowed low before Itto and said, what you seek is
in the jar. I have brought it from Afar. Here
is gold, said Ito, what is the price? The woman
pulled the blue hood farther over her face and said
another time will do I can wait. Hasten now to
the princess. Gladly. Itto obeyed. They made the broth in
a bowl of beaten gold and fed it to Oharu's san.
Immediately she was well, and all was joy in the
emperor's house. The Emperor said, Ito, is she who brought
this blessing? Paid Ito answered yonder, she waits at the
entrance of the town. The Emperor himself, in his great joy,
went with Ito to meet her, but they found only
a dog fox dead around his neck. They read this message,
This is my husband here for his child. He gives
his liver to the princess. Dear, I, his very lowly wife,
have brought it. The end how the spark of fire
was saved long ago. When fire was first brought to earth,
it was given into the care of two beldoms at
the end of the world. The ka Roque Indians knew
where it was hidden. They needed fire and were always
planning ways to get it. They went at last to
the wise coyote. That is simple enough, said he, I
will show you a way to get it. Fire is
a great blessing and should be free to all people.
The coyote knew every inch of the road to the
beldum's hut. Along the path leading to it, he stationed beasts,
the strongest and best runners nearer the hut, and the
weaker ones farther off. Nearest the guarded din. He placed
one of the sinewy Caroque men. Then he walked boldly
up to the door of the hut and knocked. The Beldums,
not fearing a coyote in the least, invited him in.
They were often lonely and living so near the end
of the world. When the coyote had rested before the
fire for some time, he said, the caroke nation need fire.
Could you not give them one small spark? You would
never miss it here it is of no use. The
Beldams answered, we do not love it, but we dare
not give it away. We must guard it while we live.
The coyote had expected them to say this. He sprang
to the window, and instantly outside were heard such sounds
that the Beldams rushed out to see what the frightful
noise could be. Each animal in the line was sounding
the watchword of fire in his own way. The wild
horse neighed, the mountain lion roared, the gray wolf howled,
the serpent hissed, the buffalo bellowed, and every small animal
did it part equally well. Indeed, it is no wonder
that the Beldams were frightened nearly to death. The kiroke
Fin brought water and told them not to fear for themselves.
The coyote seized a half burned brand and was off
in an instant. The Beldams sprang after him and followed
him closely over hill and valley, Faster than the wind
they flew. They were stronger than he, and though he
put all his wild wood nerve to the strain, they
steadily gained. Soon the race must end, but Puma, the
monstrous cat, was watching, and leaped up just in time
to save the brand. Each animal was in its place,
and the good fire passed on. It came at last
to the Cairoke nation, and was afterwards free to all
people under the sun. There were only two mishaps in
all the race. As the squirrel turned a corner of
stumps and boulders, his beautiful tail caught fire, and a
brown track was burned up over his back to his shoulders,
and the curl has remained in his tail to this day.
The frog had a harder fate. He was the last
one in the line of beasts. When the brand reached him,
it was smaller than the smallest coal in the grate.
He seized it carefully and jumped forward as fast as
he could, But the hand of the foremost beldom caught
him and held him fast. How his heart beat, his
eyeballs bulged out of his head, and he has looked
ever since much in the same scared way. He did
not lose his courage. However, he swallowed the coal and
sprang into the water, sad to tell the Beldam still
held in her hand his special pride and care his tail. Henceforth,
only the tadpoles could wear tails. The frog sought a
log and sat down upon it, to think, I did
my duty, even if I lost my beauty. He thought,
that is enough for a frog. This spark must be saved.
After much choking, he spat the swallowed spark well into
the bark. The gift came in this way to all men,
For in even the wettest weather, if you rubbed two
sticks together, fire is sure to come. Because we know
how the frog hurt his throat that day, we like
to listen to his hoarse voice when we hear him
singing to his children in the spring. The end, how
the chipmunk got the stripes on its back? Do you
all know the little striped chipmunk which lives in our woods.
He has a cousin in far off India called the Gheluree.
It is said the stripes came on the back of
the Gheluree in a wonderful way. One day the Great
Siva saw a little gray chipmunk on the sea shore.
He was dipping his bushy tail into the sea and
shaking out the water on the shore twenty times a minute.
He dipped it into the ocean in wonder. Shiva said,
what are you doing, little foolish gray Khiluree. Why do
you tire yourself with such hard labor? The Guilooree answered,
I cannot stop, Great Shiva. The storm blew down the
palm tree where I built my nest. See the tree
has fallen seaward, and the nest lies in the water.
My wife and pretty children are in it. I fear
that it will float away. Therefore, all day and all
night I must dip the water from the sea. I
hope soon to bail it dry. I must save my darlings,
even if I spoil my tail. Shiva stooped and with
his great hand stroked the little squirrel on the guiloure's
soft fur. From his nose to the end of his tail,
there came four green stripes. They were the marks of
Siva's fingers, placed there as signs of love. Shiva raised
his hand, and the water rolled back from the shore,
safe among the rocks and seaweeds. The palm tree lay
on dry land. The little squirrel hastened to it. His
tail was now high in the air. He found his
wife and children dry and well in their house of
woven grass blades. As they sang their welcomes to him,
the Guiloui noticed with delight that each smooth little back
was striped with marks of Sheva's fingers. This sign of
love is still to be seen upon the back of chipmunks.
That is the reason why in India good men never
kill them. A man who loves both children and chipmunks
says when he tells the story, Perhaps our squirrels, though
Siva never stroked them, would be grateful if we left
them unharmed to play in the maples in our woods.
The end an Indian story of the mole. An Indian
once saw a squirrel sunning himself in a tree top.
The squirrel saw the hunter and leaped upon a passing cloud.
He had escaped into cloud land before an arrow could
reach him. The Indians set a trap for him, hoping
that he would soon return to the tree for food.
The sun happened to be coming that way and was
caught in the trap. Suddenly, in the middle of the
day it became dark. The Indian was frightened and said,
ah me, what have I done? I have surely caught
the sun in my trap. He sent many animals up
to set it free, but all were instantly burned to ashes.
At last, the mole said, let me try. I shall
bore through the ground of the sky and gnaw off
the cords which hold the trap. He did this, but
just as he loosened the last chord, the sun sprang forth,
and the bright light shone full in his eyes. The
poor mole dropped to the earth, and though his friends
were able to save his life, he was blind. You
need not pity me, he said, I prefer to live
under ground, where really there is no use for eyes.
All the moles were so proud of this hero mole
that they tried to be like him in every way.
They too, went to live in a dark hole in
the earth. Their eyes, which they did not need to use,
became so small that they were entirely hidden by their fur. Indeed,
it is now so hard to find them that many
people think the entire mole family is blind. The end
and Animal Stories, Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children
by Flora J. Cook. This LibriVox recording is in the
public domain. Bird Stories an Indian story of the Robin.
When an Indian boy was eleven years old, he was
sent into a forest far away from his home. He
had to stay there all alone and fast for seven
days and nights. The Indians thought that at this time
a spirit came into the youth, which helped him to
become a great chief and warrior. The spirit also told
the boy what his name should be in the tribe.
Once there was a fierce Indian war chief who had
only one son. The little boy was not strong, but
his father loved him more than anything else on earth.
When this boy was eleven years old, the chief went
out into the forest and built a small lodge for
him to stay in. In it, he placed a mat
of reeds, which his good squaw had woven with great care.
By the side of the mat he laid a bow,
some arrows, and his own great tomahawk. Next, he painted
pictures upon the trees along the path leading from the
wigwam to the lodge. He did this that the little
boy might easily find his way home. When everything was ready,
he sadly sent his son away into the forest. He
missed him so much that he went every morning to
look at him. Each day he asked him if the
spirit had not come to him. Each day, the little
boy shook his head without opening his eyes. On the
fifth day, his son said to him, father, take me home,
or I shall die. No spirit will come to me.
The old chief's pride was greater than his pity, and
he said, no, my son, you must not be a coward.
You shall be as wise as a fox and as
strong as a bear. Better that you should die than
that boy and squaw should cry shame upon your father's son.
Be patient. I will come in two days and bring
you food. The sixth day came, and the little boy
lay upon the mat, white and still. On the seventh,
when the chief came with the son's first rays, his
son was not in the lodge, nor about it. Above
the door set a bird with brown coat and red breast,
which until this time had been unknown to man. Sadly,
the chief listened to the bird and understood its message.
Mourn me not, great chief, it sang, I was once
your son. I am happy, be now and free. I
am the friend of man, and shall always live near
him and be his companion. I shall bring the tidings
of spring, when the maple buds shoot and the wild
flowers come. Every child in the land shall know my voice.
I shall teach how much better it is to sing
than to slay. Chief. Listen, Chief, be more gentle, be
more loving. Chief, teach a chief. Be not fierce, Oh,
be not cruel. Love each other love each other the
end how the robin's breast became red. Long ago in
the far north, where it was very cold, there was
only one fire. A hunter and his little son took
care of this fire and kept it burning day and night.
They knew that if the fire went out, the people
would freeze, and the white bear would have the northland
all to himself. One day, the hunter became ill, and
his son had the work to do. For many days
and nights, he bravely took care of his father and
kept the fire burning. The white bear was always hiding near,
watching the fire. He longed to put it out, but
he did not dare, for he feared the hunter's arrows.
When he saw how tired and sleepy the little boy was,
he came closer to the fire and laughed to himself.
One night, the poor boy could endure the fatigue no
longer and fell fast asleep. The white bear ran as
fast as he could and jumped upon the fire with
his wet feet and rolled upon it. At last, he
thought it was all out, and went happily away to
his cave. A gray robin was flying near and saw
what the white bear was doing. She waited until the
bear went away. Then she flew down and searched with
her sharp little eyes until she found a tiny live coal.
This she fanned patiently with her wings for a long time.
Her little breast was scorched red, but she did not
stop until the fine red flame blazed up from the ashes.
Then she flew away to every hut in the Northland.
Wherever she touched the ground, a fire began to burn. Soon,
instead of one little fire, the whole north Country was
lighted up. The white bear went further back into his
cave in the iceberg and growled terribly. He knew that
there was now no hope that he would ever have
the Northland all to himself. This is the reason that
the people in the North Country love the robin and
are never tired of telling their children how its breast
became red. The end the red headed woodpecker. There was
an old woman who lived on a hill. You never
heard of any one smaller or neaterer than she was.
She always wore a black dress and a large white
apron with big bows behind. On her head was the
queerest little red bonnet that you ever saw. It is
a sad thing to tell, but this woman had grown
very selfish. As the years went by, people said this
was because she lived alone and thought of nobody but herself.
One morning, as she was baking cakes, a tired, hungry
man came to her door. My good woman, he said,
will you give me one of your cakes? I am
very hungry. I have no money to pay for it.
But whatever you first wish for, you shall have. The
old woman looked at her cakes and thought that they
were too large to give away. She broke off a
small bit of dough and put it into the oven
to bake. When it was done, she thought this one
was too nice and brown for a beggar. She baked
a smaller one, and then a smaller one, but each
one was as nice and brown as the first. At
last she took a piece of dough only as big
as the head of a pin. Yet even this, when
it was baked, looked as fine and large as the others.
So the old woman put all the cakes on the
shelf and offered the stranger a dry crust of bread.
The poor man only looked at her, and before she
could wink her eye, he was gone. She had done wrong,
and of course she was unhappy. Oh I wish I
were a bird, she said, I would fly to him
with the largest cake on the shelf. As she spoke,
she felt herself growing smaller and smaller, until the wind
whisked her up the chimney. She was no longer an
old woman, but a bird, as she had wished to be.
She still wore her long black dress and red bonnet.
She still seemed to have the large white apron with
the big bows behind, because from that day she pecked
her food from the hard wood of a tree. People
named this bird the red headed woodpecker. The end End
of Bird Stories, Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children
by Flora J. Cook. The Slibrivox recordings in the public
domain Cloud Stories. The palace of ali Quinos, on a
high plain covered with flowers, once lived good King Alikis
and his gentle people, the Faiachaeans. They were great sailors
and went about in silver ships without rudders or sails.
These wonderful ships went slowly or very fast, just as
the sailors wished. For many years, the Phaiakians were peaceful
and happy. Though they were as brave as they were gentle,
They hated war. Far below the Phaiakians. In a valley
lived a people larger, darker, fiercer than themselves. These dark
people cared for nothing so much as war and conquest.
When they saw the silver ships with the golden prows,
they wanted them for their own. They armed themselves and
made ready for a great battle. To be sure of victory,
they borrowed the thunder and light from Zeus. The day
came and all was ready for the dark people to advance.
They reached the land of the Phaiakians in the morning,
and King Aliquinos came forward to meet them. They soon
saw that he alone was more powerful than their entire army.
He was dressed in armor so bright that it dazzled
their eyes to look at it. It was covered with
millions of golden arrows tipped with diamonds. The king showed
the frightened people how he could shoot the arrows in
all directions at the same time. The dark people trembled
with fear, but King Alikenos smiled at them, and then
he and his people sailed slowly away toward the west.
On and on they went until they came to a
great soul for a sea. Here they stopped and built
a palace for their king. This palace was made of
silver and gold and precious stones. Its towers were rose
color and shone with a wonderful light. Its steps were
of pure gold. On each side of the silver gates
were huge dogs which guarded the palace. There were boys
in the halls dressed in white, holding burning torches. There
were girls weaving wonderful curtains and painting pictures upon the walls.
There were mountains and fountains, and rivers and lakes. There
were singing birds and flower gardens, and little children everywhere.
Even to this day, the great King often sits in
his palace in the west when his day's work is done.
He loves to see the people glide about upon on
the silver Sea in their ships without rudders or sails.
The fierce dark people still go to war. They seldom
let the gentle kings see them fighting. Yet often after
a brave battle, Ala Chinos comes out of his palace
and smiles brightly upon them. The dark people plush and
seem to smile at the king. You must find out
how much good these dark people do, and how the
King of the Phayachaeans helps them in their work. If
you wish to understand their friendship the end the swan Maidens.
A long long time ago, there was born in the
east a wonderful king. He was called the King of
the Golden Sword. Every day he came in his golden chariot,
scattering heat, light and happiness among his people. Every day
he passed from his palace in the east far over
to his throne in the west. He never missed a day,
for he wanted to see that every one had a
full share of his gifts. Throughout the kingdom, the birds
sang and the flowers bloomed. The sky was full of
beautiful pictures, which were constantly changing. The king had many daughters,
who were called swan maidens. They were as graceful as
swans and usually wore white, featherlike dresses. The swan maidens
loved their good father, and each one longed to help
him in his work. Sometimes the king saw that the
grass was brown or the buds were not coming out.
Then he called the swan maidens to him and said,
my children, this must not be. There is nothing more
beautiful in the kingdom than the green grass in the trees.
They need your care. Gladly. Each maiden changed her dress
and set out at once on her journey. Often they
could not all work upon the grass and the buds.
Some of them ran off to play with the stones
in the brook. The best ones went down to feed
the roots and worms, and worked out of sight. When
their tasks were finished, they always hurried back to their father,
the king. They went so noiselessly and swiftly, that for
a long time their way of traveling was a mystery.
In the fall, the king called the bravest swan maidens
to him. He told them they must go away for
a long time. The swan maidens wrapped themselves in white
feathery blankets and came softly down to the shivering flowers. Gently,
they placed a white spread on the earth, and left
no small seed uncovered. At last, when the kings smiled
and their work was done, they stole away so softly
and happily that no one missed them. The end. End
of Cloud Stories, Nature Myths and Stories for Little Children
by Flora J. A. Cook. The slibrivox recording is in
the public domain. Flower Stories. Clytis Clytie was a beautiful
little water nymph who lived in a cave at the
bottom of the sea. The walls of the cave were
covered with pearls and shells. The floor was made of
sand as white as snow. There were many chairs of
amber with soft mossy cushions. On each side of the
cave opening was a great forest of coral. Back of
the cave were clyties gardens. Here were the sea anemonies, starfish,
and all kinds of seaweed. In the garden grotto were
her horses. These were the gentlest goldfish and turtles. The
ocean fairies loved CLYTII and wove her dresses of softest
green as sea lace. With all these treasures, CLYTII should
have been happy, but she was not. She had once
heard of a mermaid seeing of a glorious light which
shone on the top of the water. She could think
of nothing else but longed day and night to know
more of the wonderful light. No ocean fairy dared take
her to it, and she was afraid to go alone.
One day, she was taking her usual ride in her
shell carriage. The water was warm, and the turtles so
slowly that Clytilli soon fell asleep. On and on they
went straight towards the light until they came to an island.
As the waves dashed the carriage against the shore, Clytilli awoke.
She climbed out of the shell and sat down upon
a large rock. She had never seen the trees and flowers.
She had never heard the birds chirping or the forest
winds singing. She had never known the perfume of the flowers,
or seen the dew on the grass. In wonder, she
saw a little boy and girl near her, and heard
them say, here it comes, here it comes. As she
looked away in the east, she saw the glorious light
that she had so longed for in its mist in
a golden chariot, said a wonderful king. The king smiled,
and instantly the birds began to sing, the plants unfolded
their buds, and even the old sea looked happy. Clytie
sat on the rock all day long and wished that
she might be like the great kind king. She wept
when he entered the land of the sunset, and she
could see him no longer. She went home, but she
could scarcely wait until the morning. Very early the next day,
her swiftest goldfish carried her to the rock After this,
she came every day wishing more and more to be
like the great kind King. One evening, as she was
ready to go home, she found that she could not
move her feet. She leaned out over the sea and
knew that she had her wish. Instead of a water nymph,
a beautiful sunflower looked back at her from the water.
Her yellow hair had been come golden petals, her green
lace dress had turned into leaves and stems, and her
little feet had become roots, which fastened her to the ground.
The good King the next day sent her into many countries,
into dry and sandy places, that the people might be
made happy by looking at her bright face so like
his own. The end golden Rod and asked her golden
hair and blue eyes lived at the foot of a
great hill. On the top of this hill, in a
little hut, lived a strange, wise woman. It was said
that she could change people into anything she wished. She
looked so grim and severe that people were afraid to
go near her. One summer day, the two little girls
at the foot of the hill thought they would like
to do something to make everybody happy. I know, said Goldenhair.
Let us go and ask the woman on the hill
about it. She is very wise and can surely tell
us just what to do. Oh yes, said blue eyes,
and away they started at once. It was a warm
day and a long walk to the top of the hill.
The little girls stopped many times to rest under the
big oaks which shaded their pathway. They could find no flowers,
but they made a basket of oak leaves and filled
it with berries for the wise woman. They fed the
fish in the brook and talked to the squirrels and
the birds. They walked on and on in the rocky path.
After a while, the sun went down, the birds stopped singing,
the squirrels went to bed, the trees fell asleep. Even
the wind was resting. Oh how still and cool it
was on the hillside. The moon and stars came out,
the frogs and toads awoke, the night music began. The
beetles and fireflies flew away to a party. But the
tired little children climbed on towards the hilltop. At last
they reached it. There at the gate was the strange
old woman, looking even more stern than usual. The little
girls were frightened. They clung close together, while brave golden
hair said, we know you are wise, and we came
to see if you would tell us how to make
everyone happy. Please let us stay together, said timid blue eyes,
as she opened the gate for the children. The wise
woman was seen to smile in the moonlight. The two
little girls were never seen again. At the foot of
the hill. The next morning, all over the hillside people
saw beautiful waving golden rod and purple asters growing. It
has been said that these two bright flowers, which grow
side by side, could tell the secret if they would,
of what became of the two little girls on that
moonlight summer night. The end end of Flower Stories, Nature
Myths and Stories for Little Children by Flora J. Cook.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Insects Stories
a Rockney. A Rockney was a beautiful maiden and the
most wonderful weaver that ever lived. Her father was famed
throughout the land, and for his great skill in coloring.
He dyed a Rockney's wolves in all the colors of
the rainbow. People came from miles around to see and
admire her work. They all agreed that Queen Athena must
have been her teacher. A Rockney proudly said that she
had never been taught to weave. She said that she
would be glad to weave with Athena to see which
had the greater skill. In Vain, her father told her
that perhaps Athena, unseen guided her hand. A Rockney would
not listen and would think no one for her gift,
believing only in herself. One day, as she was boasting
of her skill, an old woman came to her. She
kindly advised her to accept her rare gift humbly. Be
thankful that you are so fortunate a Rockney. She said,
you may give great happines as to others by your
beautiful work. Queen Athena longs to help you, but I
warn you she can do no more for you until
you grow unselfish unkind. A Rockney scorned this advice and
said again that nothing would please her so much as
to weave with Athena. If I fail, she said, I
will gladly take the punishment, but Athena is afraid to
weave with me. Then the old woman threw aside her
cloak and said, Athena is here. Come, foolish girl. You
shall try your skills with hers. Both went quickly to work,
and for hours their shuttles flew swiftly in and out. Athena,
as usual, used the sky for her loom, and in
it she wove a picture too beautiful to describe. If
you wish to know more about it, look at the
western sky when the sun is setting. A Rockney's work,
though her colors were in harmony and her weaving wonderfully fine,
was full of spite and selfishness. When the work was finished,
A Rockney lifted her eyes to Athena's work. Instantly she
knew she had failed. Ashamed and miserable, she tried to
hang herself in her web. Athena saw her and said,
in pity, no, you shall not die. Live and do
the work for which you are best fitted. You shall
be the mother of a great race, which shall be
called spiders. You and your children shall be among the
greatest spinners and weavers on earth. As she spoke, a
Rockney became smaller and smaller, until she was scarcely larger
than a fly. From that day to this, A Rockney
and her family have been faithful spinners. But they do
their work so quietly and in such dark places, that
very few people know what marvelous weavers they are the
end Aurora and Tothonis, the beautiful youth. Tothonis loved Arora,
the Queen of the Dawn. He was the first one
to greet her each day as she drew back the
purple curtains of the east. He made his bed on
the green grass in the meadow that he might not
miss her coming. Aurora grew to expect his welcome and
to love the youth. Dearly one morning when she came
to Thonis was not in his usual place. As she
looked anxiously around, she saw him with pale face and
closed eyes, lying upon the ground. She darted down to
earth and carried his almost lifeless body to Zeus. She
begged the great king to that to Thonis should never die,
But alas in her haste she forgot to ask that
he might forever remain young. Therefore he grew old and
bent and could no longer walk. In misery, he begged
to go back to the cool grass in the meadow
where he had been so happy. Aurora, and pity said,
you shall go, my Tothonis. To make you happy is
my dearest wish. You shall be free from all care.
You shall not be a man, lest you be compelled
to work for your food. In your old age, you
shall be a grasshopper, free to dance in the meadow
grass all the long summer days. I have prepared a
dress for you which shall protect you well. Then she
gave to Thonis the wonderful grasshopper coat of mail, which
had been unknown on earth until this time. She tinted
it a soft green, so that he might not be
noticed in the grass t Thonis went that day to
live in the meadow, and there any summer day you
may find him and his family hopping merrily about in
the sunshine. The end, King Solomon and the Ants. One morning,
the Queen of Sheba started back to her home in
the south. King Solomon and all his court went with
her to the gates of the city. It was a
glorious sight. The King and queen rode upon white horses.
The purple and scarlet coverings of their followers glittered with
silver and gold. The king looked down and saw an
ant hill in the path before them. See yonder, little people,
he said, Do you hear what they are saying? As
they run about so wildly? They say, here comes the king, men,
call wise and good and great. He will trample us
under his cruel feet. They should be proud to die
under the feet of such king, said the queen. How
dare they complain? Not so, great, queen, replied the king.
He turned his horse aside, and all his followers did
the same. When the great company had passed, there was
the ant hill unharmed in the path. The queen said, happy, indeed,
must be your people, Wise King, I shall remember the lesson.
He only is noble and great who cares for the
helpless and weak. The end the wise King and the bee.
Long ago there lived in the east, the greatest king
in the world. It was believed that no one could
ask him a question which he could not answer. Wise
men came from far and near, but they were never
were able to puzzle King Solomon. He knew all the
trees and plants. He understood the beasts, fowls, and creeping
things almost as well as he did people. The fame
of his knowledge spread into all lambs. In the south,
the great Queen of Sheba heard of the wonderful wisdom
of Solomon, and said, I shall test his power for myself.
She picked some clover blossoms from the field, and bad
a great artist to make for her in wax flowers,
buds and leaves exactly like them. She was much pleased
when they were finished, for she herself could see no
difference the two bunches. She carried them to the king
and said, choose a wise one, which are the real flowers?
At first King Solomon was puzzled, But soon he saw
a bee buzzing at the window. Ah, he said, here
is one come to help me in my choice. Throw
open the window for my friend. Then the Queen Nasheba
bowed her head and said, you are indeed a wise king,
but I begin to understand your wisdom. I thank you
for this lesson. The end end of Insects Stories, Nature
Methicen's Stories for Little Children by Flora J. Cook. This
LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Mineralogy Stories
The story of Sissyphus. Little white Cloud was the Ocean's daughter.
The ocean loved her and wished always to keep her
near him. One day, when her father was asleep, white
Cloud went out to walk alone. The son saw her
and said, come, white Cloud, I am your king. I
will give you a ride upon my bright rays. White
Cloud had often longed for this very thing. So she
went loudly, and soon found herself among the fleecy clouds
in the sky. When the ocean awoke, he called his
little daughter. She did not answer. He called again and again, louder,
and still louder, until the people said, listen, it is thundering.
But the ocean only heard the echo of his own
voice from the shore. He rushed high up on the
beach and moaned aloud. He ran into all the caves,
but White Cloud could not be found. Everyone had loved
White Cloud, so by this time all the water was
white with the crusts of the weeping sea nymphs. A
great giant was sitting upon the shore near the sea.
His name was Sissiphus. He felt sorry for the ocean
and said, listen, freendo ocean. I often watch you carrying
the great ships, and wish that I too had a
great work to do. You see how dry it is
on the side of the mountain. Few people come this way.
You are not even now as lonely as I. Yet
I want to help you. Promise me that you will
put a spring upon this mountain side, where all the
tired and thirsty people may drink. And I'll tell you
where white Cloud is. The ocean said, I cannot put
a spring upon the mountain, but if you will follow
my sun river, he will take you to a spring
where he was born. The giant told the ocean how
the sun ran away with white Cloud. The sun heard
him and was angry. He placed Sissyphis in the sea, saying,
you are far too strong to sit idly here upon
the shore. You say you want a great work to do,
you shall have it. You shall forever use your strength
to push these stones upon the shore, and they shall
forever roll back upon you. The giant began his work
at once and has worked faithfully every day since that time.
Many people do not yet know what his work is.
Do you do you know what Sissyphus is making? The
end the story of the pudding Stone. Once upon a
time a family of giants lived upon the high mountains
in the west. One day, the mother giant was called
away from home. She arose early in the morning and
made ready the bread and butter for the little giants
to eat while she was gone. When she had finished
her work, it was not yet time to start upon
her journey. She said to herself, my children are the
best children in the world, and they shall have a treat.
I have many plums left from the Christmas feast. I
will make them a plum pudding for a surprise. The
good woman brought together the plums, which it had taken
her many days to prepare with the help of all
of her children. Indeed, she had emptied several mountain lakes
to get water enough to wash them all. She now
mixed these wonderful plums into a pudding and put it
into an oven to bake. The mixing took so long
that she had to hurry, and she quite forgot to
say anything about the pudding to the little giants. She
had intended to tell them about it just before she
left them. It was afternoon when the giant children found
the pudding. It was badly burned upon the top. By
this time, they had already eaten the bread and butter
and were not hungry. One little giant said to the others,
let us make balls of the pudding, and see who
can throw the farthest. You know that giants are very strong,
and away went the pudding up into the air. The
little giants made little balls, and the older giants threw
pieces as big as a house many pieces went over
the mountains and fell down into the valley beyond. Indeed,
this wonderful pudding was scattered for miles over the whole land,
for the giants did not stop throwing as long as
there was any pudding left in the pan. When the
sun had shone upon it many days and dried and
hardened it, people called it pudding stone. You may find
it today thrown all over the land, full of the
plums which the good woman washed with the waters of
many lakes. The end. End of Mineralogy, Stories, Nature Myths
and Stories for Little Children by Flora J. A. Cook.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Sun Myths Balder.
The people in the north once believed that high above
the clouds was the beautiful plain of Asgard. Odin, ruler
of Asgard, Mighty Thor, and many other heroes lived on
the plain. Their homes were great castles, splendid with silver
and gold. In the middle of the plain, and apart
from the other dwellings, stood a pure white palace. Nothing
that was not fair and good had ever dared to
enter it. It was the home of Balder. Because of
his great beauty and wisdom, he was called Balder the beautiful,
and Balder the good. Everything loved him. The dull rocks
and the gray old mountains met him with a smile.
The flowers opened, the birds sang, and the water sparkled
when they saw his face. One night, he dreamed that
he must soon leave Asgard and all the things that
he loved. The next night he dreamed that he was
living in the gloomy underground world. The third night, when
the same terrible dream came to him, he was greatly troubled.
He told Odin, his father, and Frigga his mother, about it. Odin,
in great fear, called together his wisest heroes. They shook
their heads, but could do nothing to help him. Friga cried,
it shall not be I. His mother will save him.
She went straightway to Hymn Daal, who guarded the Rainbow Bridge. Bivrost,
which was the name of the bridge, was the only
path which led from Asgard to the earth. Hymn Dayal
allowed only those who lived in the plain to pass
over it. All feared Himdal, yet they loved him. He
could see to the inn of the world. He could
hear the wool growing on the sheep's back, and knew
when each grass blade broke into the sunshine. Hemdayal loved Balder,
and when he heard what troubled Friga pitied her. He
gave her his swift black horse and showed her the
way to the ends of the earth. For nine days
and nights she traveled without food or rest. She asked
everything she met to promise not to harm balder animals, flowers, trees, water,
air fire. Everything she asked gladly gave the promise. They
smiled in wonder at the question, who could wish to
hurt the gentle balder Alas the mistletoe did not promise,
Frigga saw it growing high up on an oak tree.
It seemed too small and weak to do any harm.
She did not ask it to promise. On the tenth
day of her journey, she came back again to Asgard.
She told the sorrowing Odin and his friends what she
had done. In their joy, they found a new way
to do balder honor. He stood in their midst while
his most skillful heroes hurled their arrows at him. At first,
they threw only small twigs and pebbles. Everything, however, had
soon proved itself true to its promise. Then the heroes
lost all fear of harming him and threw their warlike weapons.
Balder stood unharmed and smiling among them. Each day they
met on the plane, and in this sport proved the
love of all things for him. The blind Hoder was
the only one in Asgard who could not join in
the game. He was Baldard's brother and loved him very dearly.
Hoder was not unhappy, but always cheered and shouted as
gayly as the others. One day he stood aside Loki
saw him. Loki was a mischief maker. His jokes were
often cruel. Indeed, most of the unhappiness in Asgard was
caused by Loki's unkindness. Hoder, why do you not do
Balder honor, asked Loki. I am blind, Oder said, And besides,
I have nothing to throw. Here is my arrow, said Loki.
Take it. I will guide your hands alas the cruel
Loki had made the arrow of mistletoe. He knew that
this was the only way in which Balder could be harmed.
He longed to see the surprise of the heroes when
Balder should at last be wounded away flew the arrow
Balder the beautiful fell lifeless to the ground. Then all
Asgard was dark with sorrow. Strong heroes wept and would
not be comforted. The earth grew cold, white, and still
the water would not flow. The seeds refused to grow.
The birds were silent. No flowers breathed their perfumes into
the air. There was not a smile in all the world.
Odin said, this cannot be. Balder shall return. I myself
will go and bring him from Hela's dark regions. But
Friga had already sent a message to the spirit world
to beg Queenhila to release Balder. While waiting for the
message to return, the heroes were not idle. For twelve
days and nights, they worked as only love can make
men work. They did not pause for food nor rest.
They built a great funeral pyre, and no one was
too small to help in the work of love. They
found Balder's ship among the seashore. They brought great logs
from the forest and bound them upon the deck. Upon
these they placed his beautiful white horse, his dogs, his
shining armor, and many things which he had loved on earth.
When it was finished, they raised the sails, set the
ship on fire, and pushed it out upon the sea.
They sang and wept all night, until at sunrise the
sails fell. They watched the flames die down and the
waves wash over the sinking ship. As they turned sadly
from the shore, they met the messenger from Hela's regions. Rejoice,
he said, HeLa says, if everything living and lifeless weep
for Balder, he may return to us. There was great
happiness in Asgar that day. Surely they thought every one
in the world will weep for Balder. They had forgotten
the cruel Loki. He set with dry eyes, though rocks
and trees, birds and flowers, wind and clouds were shedding tears.
When Odin found that Balder could not return to life,
his anger and grief were terrible to see. In fear,
Loki hid himself deep in the earth under a mountain.
Frigin knew that he was conquered, and she patiently waited
for the time when Balder should again be allowed to
bring gladness to the earth and fill all the heavens
with the glory of his smile. The end, Persephone Demeter
had the care of all the plants, fruits, and grains
in the world. She taught the people how to plow
the fields and plant the seeds. She helped them gather
in their harvests. They loved the kind earth mother and
gladly obeyed her. They also loved her daughter, the beautiful Persephone.
Persephone wandered all day in the meadows among the flowers.
Wherever she went, the birds, singing merrily, flocked after her.
The people said, where Persephone is, there is the warm sunshine.
Flowers bloom when she smiles. Listen to her voice. It
is like a bird's song. Demeter wished always to have
her child near her. One day, Persephone went alone into
a meadow near the sea. She had made a wreath
for her hair and gathered all the flowers that her
apron could hold. Far away across the meadow, she saw
a white flower gleaming. She ran to it and found
that it was a narcissus, but far more beautiful than
any she had ever seen. On a single stem were
a hundred blossoms. She tried to pick it, but the
stem would not break. With all her strength, she grasped it,
and slowly it came up by the roots. It left
a great opening in the earth, which grew larger and
larger Persephone heard rumbling like thunder under her feet. Then
she saw four black horses coming toward her from the opening.
Behind them was a chariot made of gold and precious
stones in it, said a dark, stern man. It was Hades.
He had come up from his land of darkness and
was shading his eyes with his hands. He saw Persephone
beautiful with flowers, and instantly caught her in his arms
and placed her in the chariot beside him. The flowers
fell from her apron, Oh, my pretty flowers, she cried,
I have lost them all. Then she saw the stern
face of Hades. Frightened, she stretched out her hands to
kind Apollo, who was his chariot overhead. She called to
her mother for help. Hades drove straight toward his dark
underground home. The horses seemed to fly as they left
the light. Hades tried to comfort Persephone. He told her
of the wonders of his kingdom. He had gold and
silver and all kinds of precious stones. Persephone saw gems
glittering on every side as they went along, but she
did not care for them. Hades told her how lonely
he was, and that he wished her to be his
queen and share all his riches. Persephone did not want
to be a queen. She longed only for her mother
and the bright sunshine. Soon they came to the land
of Hades. It seemed very dark and dismal to Persephone,
and very cold too. A feast was ready for her,
but she would not eat. She knew that any one
who ate in Hades's home could never return to Earth again.
She was very unhappy. Though Hades tried in many ways
to please her, everything on the earth was unhappy too.
One by one, the flowers hung their heads and said,
we cannot bloom, for Persephone has gone. The trees dropped
their leaves and moaned, Persephone is gone. Gone. The birds
flew away and said we cannot sing, for Persephone has gone.
Demeter was more miserable than any one else. She had
heard Persephone call her and had gone straight home. She
searched all the earth for her child. She asked every
one she met these questions, have you seen Persephone? Where
is Persephone? The only answer she ever received was gone gone,
Persephone is gone. Demeter became a wrinkled old woman. No
one would have known that she was the kind mother
who had always smiled on the people. Nothing grew on
the earth, and all was dreary and barren. Demeter said
that she would do nothing until Persephone returned to her.
It was useless for the people to plow the soil,
it was useless to plant the seeds. Nothing could grow
without the help of Demeter. All the people were idle
and sad. When Demeter found no one on earth who
could tell her about Persephone, she looked up toward the sky.
There she saw Apollo in his bright chariot. He was
not driving as high in the sky as he was
wont to do. Often, he gathered dark mists about him,
so that none saw him. For many days. Demeter knew
that he must know about Persephone, for he could see
all things on earth and in the sky. Apollo told
Demeter that Hades had carried Persephone away, and that she
was with him in his underground home. Demeter hastened to
the great father Zeus, who could do all things. She
asked him to send to Hades for her daughter. Zeus
called Hermes. He bade him go as swiftly as the
wind to the home of Hades. Hermes whispered to everything
on the way that he was going for Persephone so
that all might be ready to welcome her back. He
soon arrived in the kingdom and gave Hades the message
from Zeus. He told about the barren earth and of
how Demeter was mourning for her child. He said she
would not let anything grow until Persephone came back. The
people must starve if she did not soon return. Then
Persephone wept bitterly, for that very day she had eaten
a pomegranate and swallowed six of its seeds. Hades pitied
her and said that she need only stay with him
one month for each seed she had eaten. Joy gave
her wings, and as swiftly as Hermes himself, Persephone flew
up into the sunshine. Apello saw her and rose higher
and higher into the sky. A gentle breeze came rustling
from the southeast and whispered something to everything he met. Suddenly,
the flowers sprang up, the birds flocked together and sang.
The trees put on bright green leaves. Everything great and
small began to say, in its own language, be happy,
for Persephone has come. Persephone has come. Demeter saw these
changes and was puzzled, can the earth be ungrateful? Does
she so soon forget procesh she cried. It was not long, however,
before her own face became beautiful and happy, for she
held again her beloved child in her arms. When Demet
found that Persephone could stay with her only half the year,
she brought out the choicest treasures from her storehouse, and
while Persephone stayed the world was filled with beauty and joy.
When she had gone, Demeter covered the rivers and lakes
and spread a soft white blanket over the sleeping earth.
Then she too fell asleep and dreamed such pleasant dreams
that she did not awake until she felt Persephone's warm
kiss on her forehead. The end. Phaatin Phaatin was the
son of Helius, who drove the chariot of the Sun.
He lived with his mother, the gentle Clemini, in a
beautiful valley in the east. One day, when Phaeton was
telling his companions about his father, the sky King, they
laughed and said, how do you know that Helius is
your father? You have never seen him. If, as you say,
he cannot safely come nearer to the earth, why do
you not sometimes go to his land? Phaaeton answered, my
father's throne is far away from this valley. My mother
has promised that when I am stronger, I shall go
to my father's palace. I often watch his golden chariot
roll by in its path, and think, perhaps some day
I shall drive the glorious horses of the Sun. I
shall go now to my mother and ask her how
much longer I must wait. When Phaeton told his mother
what his companions had said, she answered, go, my child,
ask great Helius if you are his son, if you
are worthy to be the son of Helia, you will
be given strength and courage for the journey. Faaton gladly
and bravely climbed the unused path which led to the
Palace of the Sun. At last he came in sight
of the throne. He had never seen anything so beautiful.
On one side were standing the days, months, and the
old years. On the other side were the seasons, spring
covered with flowers, summer with their baskets of fruit and grain,
autumn and a mini colored dress, and young winter with
a crown of icicles. As Faatin came nearer to the throne,
the light was greater than his eyes could bear. Its
wonderful colors dazzled him. Helius saw the brave youth and
knew that it was Faatin his son. He took his
glittering crown from his head and went forward to meet him.
Faaetin cried, great Helius, if you are my father, give
me and other's proof that it is so. Helius took
him in his arms and kissed him. You are indeed
my son, he said, I will put an end to
your doubts. Ask any gift you will, and it shall
be yours. Bayaton had always had one wish in his heart,
and said, oh, my father, let me drive the wonderful
golden chariot of the sun for just one day. Helius
shook his head sadly and said, that is the one
thing which you must not ask to do. You are
my son, and I love you for your own sake.
I cannot let you do this. You have neither the
strength nor the wisdom for the great work. The first
part of the way is very steep and rugged. In
the middle part even I dare not look below at
the far stretching earth. And the last part is full
of terrible dangers. Fayeton would not listen, but threw his
arms around his father's neck and begged to go. Helius said,
at last, if you persist, foolish boy, you shall have
your wish, for I cannot break my promise. I beg
of you. Choose more wisely, ask the most precious thing
on earth or in the sky, and you shall have it.
Already dawn had drawn back the purple curtains of the morning,
and the hours were harnessing the horses to the chariot.
The stars and moon were retiring for the day. The
chariot glittered with jewels, which scent the light in all directions.
Faeton looked upon it with delight, and longed impatiently for
the great joy of driving it. Helius said, oh, my
dear son, go not too high, or you will scorch
the dwelling of heaven. Nor too low lest you set
the world on fire. Keep in the middle path that
is best, and do not use the whip, rather hold
the horses in. Phaeton was too happy to hear what
his father was saying. He leapt into the golden chariot
and stood erect. As the fiery horses sprang forth from
the eastern gates of day. They soon missed the strong,
steady hand of their master. Up Up, they went far
into the sky, above the stars and then plunged downward
toward the earth. The clouds smoked, the mountain tops caught fire,
Many rivers dried up, and whole countries became deserts. Great
cities were burned, and even Poseidon cried out in terror
from the sea. Then the people on earth learned with
what great wisdom the path of the Sun was planned.
Helius saw that the whole world world would soon be
on fire, and cried to Father Zeus to save the
earth from the flames. Zeus searched all the heavens for
clouds and hurled his thunderbolts from the sky. Fayaton fell
from the chariot down down into a clear river. The
naids cooled his burning brow and gently sang him to sleep.
His sisters came to the banks of the river and
wept that they might be always near Fayatin. Zeus, in pity,
changed them into poplar trees, and their tears became clear
amber as they fell into the water. At last, the
tired horses became quiet, and the great car rolled slowly
back into its old path. But the deserts and barren
mountain tops still tell the story of the day Fayaton
tried to drive the Chariot of the Sun. The End
End of Sunny Myths, Nature Myths and Stories for Little
Children by Flora J. Cook. This LibriVox recording is in
the public domain Tree Stories. Daphne was the daughter of
the river Peneus. She was a beautiful child, and her
father loved her more than anything else in the world.
Her home was in a cave which she had cut
for her in a great white cliff. The walls of
the cave were of marble. From the roof hung crystal
chandeliers which Penias's servants had made. On the floor was
a soft green carpet woven by the water fairies. Peneas
brought his most beautiful pebbles to Daphne's cave every night.
He sang songs to her in the evenings and told
her stories of his travels. She visited with him on
the great island which he was building in the sea.
When the morning stars shone in the sky, it was
Daphne who awakened the birds and flowers. With her golden
hair flying behind her, she sped into the forest. Everything
awoke when they felt the touch of her rosy fingers,
and smiled as they saw her. Happy face. The trees
and the forest animals were her playfellows, and she had
no wish for other friends. She learned their ways, and
the deer could not run more swiftly than she, nor
the birds sing more sweetly. One day, as she was
running over the stones near the cave, King Apollo saw her, Ah,
little maid. He said, you are very beautiful. Your feet
are too tender for the hard rocky earth. Come you
shall live with me in my palace in the sky.
But daf fled from him. She did not want to
leave her beautiful earth home. Fear gave her wings, and
faster and faster she flew. Her hair streamed behind her
like a cloud of golden light. Apollo followed more swiftly
than the wind. Stop and listen, he cried, I am
not a foe. Foolish girl, It is Apollo who follows you.
I shall carry you to a home more beautiful than
anything you have ever seen. She felt his breath upon
her hair, and saw his hand as he stretched it
forth to seize her father. Save me from Apollo, she cried,
let the earth enclose me. Peneus heard her voice, and
instantly her feet became fastened in the soil, like roots.
A soft bark covered her body, and her beautiful hair
became the leaves of the laurel tree. Apollo sadly gathered
some of the lee leaves and wove them into a wreath.
He laid his hand upon the tree and said, I
would have made you happy, but you would not listen
to me. At least you shall be my tree. Your
leaves shall be ever green, and heroes shall be crowned
with them in a sign of victory. The end a
fairy story. Some fairies once lived in a dark glen
in a pine forest. They were real fairies, many of
them not higher than a pin. Their greatest treasure was
a magic cap, which had been in the fairy family
for many generations. The most wonderful thing about the cap
was that it fitted exactly anyone who wore it. When
one fairy put it on, he and all the others
became invisible. A stupid race of giants lived among the
mountains near them. They wanted the fairy cap more than
anything else in the world. One warm day, when the
elves were away from home, a giant came into the glen.
He was seeking just such a cool place for his
afternoon nap. He was so large and the glen so small,
that when he lay down he almost filled the valley.
The music of a fairy brook soon lulled him to sleep.
Perhaps you have heard how a giant snores, and how
his breath comes in great puffs. The giant was snoring
and puffing when the fairies came towards home. They heard
the strange sound and thought a great storm was brewing.
There has never been such a wind in the glen,
said the fairy queen. We will not go down into it.
We must seek shelter for to night on this hill side.
Just then they came to the giant's ear. Here is
a fine cavern, the queen said, and she stopped and
waved her wand a fairy hastened forward to carry the
cap to a safe place in the cave, for that
was always their first care. Just then the giant awoke.
He raised his great head. Oh how miserable the fairies were.
They wept and moaned, until even the dull ear of
the giant heard them. It was a sound like the
tolling of tiny silver bells. He listened and understood what
the wee voice of the prisoner in his ear was
saying he was the wisest and most kind hearted of
all the giants. He helped the little creature gently out
into his hand, and looked at him in wonder. He
had never before seen a fairy in vain. The brave
little fellow tried to conceal the precious cap. The giants
saw the wonderful star and knew at once that he
had the treasure cap of the elves. He set the
fairy carefully upon the ground and shouted for joy as
he found that the cap exactly fitted his own great head.
The poor fairies could no longer see him, but they
heard a sound like thunder as he hurried over the
stones towards his home. They were now afraid to move about.
While the sun shone, They crept under leaves and into shells,
and cried bitterly. By sundown, every plant in the glen
was wet with their tears. The sharp eyes of the
eagle on the mountain top saw them, and a great
pity filled his heart. I must help the fairies, he said,
otherwise I should not be worthy to be called the
king of the birds. He went directly to the home
of the giants and demanded the cap, but they refused
to give it up. All that an eagle could do
he did. But as the giants wore the invisible cap,
he could not see them. He could only hear their
great voices. He knew, however, that the giants were proud
of their great size and strength, and liked above all
things to be seen. He was sure that they would
not wear the cap in a battle, and he did
not lose hope. One day, they carefully placed it under
a large stone on the mountain side below them. The
keen eye of the eagle was watching. He flew fearlessly
to the spot. As soon as the giants had left it.
He lifted the stone in his great talons and was
soon flying away with the cap to the fairy glen.
The giants saw him and knew at once what he
was doing. They began a fierce attack upon him. The
air was filled with flying arrows and sharp rocks. Drops
of blood fell on the mountain side, and many feathers
fluttered down, But the brave eagle was soon out of
their reach. He did not stop until the cap was
safe in the fairy queen's lap. There was great rejoicing
among the fairies that day, they had a feast in
the eagle's honor, and healed his wounds with fairy magic.
On the mountain side, wherever the blood and feathers fell,
there sprang up trees with featherlike leaves and blood red berries.
All the Giant's fairies, plants, and animals knew why they
grew the unselfish love of the eagle's blood. Could not die,
but lived again in the beautiful trees. But people who
did not know how they came there called them mountain
ash trees. The end Philimon and Bosses. On a high
hill in Greece. Long ago lived Phillymon and Bosses. They
had always been poor, but never unhappy. At the time
of this story, the people in the valley below them
were very busy. Zeus, their king, had sent word that
he was about to visit them. Hermes, his messenger, was
to come with him. The people were getting ready great
feasts and making everything beautiful for their coming. For miles
out of the city, men were watching for the golden
chariot and white horses of the king. One night, just
at dark, two beggars came to the valley. They stopped
at every house and asked for food and a place
to sleep, but the people were too busy or too
tired to attend to their needs. Foot sore and weary,
at last they climbed the hill to the hut of
Philemon and Bosses. These good people had eaten scarcely anything
for several days that they might have food to offer
the king. When they saw the strangers, Philamon said, surely
these men need food more than the king. Bossus spread
her one white tablecloth. Upon the table she brought out
bacon and herbs, wild honey, and milk. She set these
before the strangers with all the good dishes that she had.
Then a wonderful thing happened. The dishes which the strangers
touched turned to gold. The milk in the pitcher became
rich nectar. Philaemon and Bosses dropped upon their knees. They
knew that their guests could be no other than Zeus.
Ands Zeus raised his hand and said, arise, good people,
Ask what you will, and it shall be yours. Philammond
and Bossus cried in one voice, grant o Zeus that
one of us may not outlive the other, but that
both may die in the same instant. This had long
been the wish in each heart, and the fear of
being left alone in the world was the one trouble
of their old age. Zeus smiled and changed their rude
hut into a beautiful castle, and granted them many years
of happy life. One morning, the people in the valley
noticed that the castle had disappeared. They hurried to the
spot and found growing in its place two beautiful trees,
an oak and a linden. No trace of the good
couple could be found. Many years after, however, a traveler
lying under the trees heard them whispering to each other.
He lay very still, and soon learned that in them
Philammon and Bosses still lived, happy and contented, and protected
by Zeus from all harm. The end the poplar tree.
One night, just at sunset, an old man found the
pot of gold which lies under the end of the rainbow.
His home was far beyond the dark forest through which
he was passing. The pot of gold was heavy, and
he soon began to look for a safe place in
which to hide it. Until morning. A poplar tree stood
near the path, stretching its branches straight out from the trunk.
That was the way the poplar trees grew in those days, Ah,
said the man, This tree is the very place in
which to conceal my treasure. The trees are all asleep,
I see, and these leaves are large and thick. He
carefully placed the pot of gold in the tree and
hurried home to tell of his good fortune. Very early
the next morning, Iris, the rainbow messenger, missed the precious
pot of gold. She hastened to Zeus and told him
of the loss. Zeus immediately sent Hermes in search of it.
Hermes soon came to the forest where it was hidden.
He awakened the trees and asked them if they had
seen the pot of gold. They shook their heads sleepily
and murmured something which Hermes could not understand. Then Zeus
himself spoke to them, hold your arms high above your heads.
He said that I may see that all are awake.
Up went the arms, but alas to the ground came
the pot of gold. The poplar tree was more surprised
than any one else. He was a very honest tree,
and for a moment hung his head in grief and shame.
Then again he stretched his arms high above his head
and said, forgive me, Great Father. Hereafter I shall stand
in this way that you may know that I hide
nothing from the sun, my king. At first, the poplar
tree was much laughed at. He was often told that
he looked like a great umbrella which a storm had
turned inside out. But as years went by, every small
poplar was taught to grow as fearless, straight and open
hearted as himself, and the whole poplar family became respected
and loved for its uprightness and strength. The end the
Secret of Fire. One summer night, a great army of
pine trees settled down in a quiet valley to rest.
They were a tall, dark, grave looking company. They held
their heads high in the air, for they were the
only trees in the world who knew the wonderful secret
of fire. High above this valley, on the hill side,
lived a little company of oaks. They were young, brave,
and strong hearted. When they saw the great band of
pines marching into the valley, the tallest one said, let
us make them divide the gift of fire with us. No,
said the oldest, wisest oak. We must not risk foolishly
the lives of our acorns. We could do nothing against
so many. All the acorns had been listening to what
the trees said each one longed to help in finding
out the great secret. One of them became so excited
that he fell from the limb down upon the hard ground.
He did not stop at the foot of the tree,
but rolled over and over far down into the valley.
Here a brook picked him up and hurried him away,
But as he stopped to rest by a stone, he
hurt his good friend. The wind talking to a pine tree,
what is the secret of fire which the pine trees know?
Asked the wind. Don't you think it is selfish to
keep it all to yourselves? The pine tree loved the
wind and answered, great Wind, it is indeed a wonderful secret.
You must never tell it. Then she whispered it to
the wind. The little acorn went on and on down
the stream. He came to an old log which was
the home of a large family of squirrels. The mother
squirrel was very sad. The last flood had brought her
and her children far away from their old forest home.
Her family had all been saved, but food was scarce
and winter was near. The acorn felt very sorry for her,
and said, I am too small to do you much
good alone. If you will carry me back to my home,
I will show you a forest with plenty of nuts.
You can take your family there in the fall. This
the squirrel was very glad to do. As they went along,
the acorn called to all the elms, naples, willows, and
hickorys to meet that night on the hilltop. Come to
the hill across from the great blue mountains. He said,
there you will learn the secret of fire. By the evening,
they were all there in great companies, ready for war
on the pines. When the squirrel came to the forest
and saw all the nuts, she was much pleased. She
offered to carry the acorn to the very top of
the tallest tree. The trees were all glad for this,
for everyone wanted to hear what he said. When the
acorn began to speak, even the wind stopped whispering and listened. Friends,
He said, there must be no battle. The pine trees
have only the same gift of fire that you have.
To every tree that stretches out its arms. The glorious
Sun gives this gift. But it was in this way
that the pine trees learned the secret of getting the
fire from the wood. They saw an old Indian chief
with two curious pieces of wood, one was round and smooth.
The other was sharp pointed. With all his strength, he
was rubbing them together. Soon he had worn a groom
in the round stick. He rubbed faster and faster, and
there in the groove was a tiny spark of fire.
Then the Indian blew his breath upon the spark, and
a little yellow flame leaped up. All the pine trees
saw it. See it is fire, they said. When the
great company of trees had heard the acorns story, they
shook their heads in doubt. Then the acorn said, this
is the true secret of fire. If you do not
believe it, why do you not try it for yourselves.
They took his advice, and all the trees learned that
what he had said was true. They were so happy
that they spent the whole night in singing and dancing.
In the morning, when they saw the great blue mountains
in the beautiful valley, many of them settled down upon
the hillside for life. The pines looked up and saw
hundreds of trees with their shining arms. They were so
frightened that they climbed high up on the mountain side.
There they stayed a long long time. They grew sad
and lonely, and often sighed and wished for their old
home and comforts. But they were brave and strong hearted
and helped each other. At last, some of them came
down into the valley again. Through suffering, they had grown
strong and unselfish. They gave their best trees to the people,
and their fairest to the children at Christmas time. Indeed,
there is not a tree in the world to day
more loved than the pine tree, who first had the
secret of fire. The end end of Tree Stories, Nature
Myths and Stories for Little Children by Flora J. Cook.
The Slibrivox recording is in the public Domain Miscellaneous Stories.
Hermes Yellows was the father of all the winds, great
and small. Long ago, they all lived happily together in
a dark cave near the sea. On holidays, north wind,
south wind, east wind, and west wind, and their faithful
sisters came home and told of their travels. The whirlwinds
performed their most wonderful feats, and the zephyrs sang their
sweetest songs. These holidays, however, did not come often. There
were no idle children in the family of Yellows. They
swept and dusted the whole world. They carried water over
all the earth. They helped push the great ships across
the ocean. The smaller winds scattered the seas and sprinkled
the flowers and the other things which you may find
out for yourselves. Indeed, they were so busy that Eyellos
was often left alone in his dark home for several
days at a time. He was glad when one summer
morning a baby came to the cave. The baby's name
was Hermes, but ILOs called him Little Mischief because he
was so little and so full of trucks. Zeus was
Hermes's father, and his mother was the beautiful Queen Maya.
She was often called Star of Spring because people thought
that wherever she stepped, flowers sprang from under the snow.
Yellos loved Hermes dearly. He taught him many secrets which
only the winds know. Ermes was a wise baby and
understood all that Yellos told him. When he was only
two days old, he could run and whistle as well
as north wind. One day, while he was very young,
he climbed out of his cradle and ran down to
the sea shore. There he found an old tortoise shell.
He picked it up and put a row of holes
along each edge of the shell. Through these holes he
wove some reeds, which he found upon the sea shore.
Then he blew softly upon the reeds. The birds heard
such wonderful music that they stopped to listen. The leaves
on the trees began to dance, and nodded to the
flowers to keep still. The waves on the shore caught
the tune and have been singing it ever since. Hermes
had invented the lyre and brought a new kind of
music into the world. He soon tired of his lyre
and went back to his cradle in the cave. As
he lay there, he could see a beautiful blue meadow
with many white cows upon it. Hermes knew that the
cows belonged to his brother, King Apollo. What fun, he thought,
I will go and make the cows run off. He
ran after them until he was tired and out of breath.
Then he drove them all backward into a cave and
fastened them in. King Apollo soon missed the cows and
searched all the meadows for them. He traced them to
the cave, but when he came closer to it, he
found that all the tracks led from the opening, not
into it. Near the cave, he saw an old man
who told him that he had seen the cows. He
said that with them he had seen a baby with
wings on his cap and heels. Apollo knew at once
that the baby was his brother, Ermeys. He went straight
to the cave of e Elos. There was Hermes in
his cradle, playing with the shell, just like any other baby.
Apollo was angry and commanded him to stop laughing and
crowing and tell him where the white cows were. Hermes
only picked up the shell and breathed softly upon it.
Apollo forgot his anger and everything but the beautiful music.
He took Ermes into his arms and kissed him, and
begged him to teach him his secret. Hermes was glad
to be so easily forgiven. He gave Apollo the lyre
and taught him many ways to play upon it. Apollo
was soon able to make even sweeter music than Hermes,
and he afterwards became the god of music. He was
so thankful to Hermes for his gift that he gave
him a wonderful rod called the Cadusius. Whatever Hermes touched
with the rod became wise, loving and unselfish. One time
he saw two hissing serpents about to spring at each
other in fury. He touched them with the cadusius in Distantly,
they twined themselves lovingly around the rod, and never again
left it. Apollo also gave Hermes charge over all the
cows in the Blue meadow. Ermes loved the cows and
often took them with him on his journeys. He was
a wild youth and a great traveler. And so it
happened that in nearly all the countries of the world,
armes and as white cows have been seen. The end
Iris's bridge in the sky, where the amber tents are
seen on the clouds, Iris was born. She loved her
home and all the beautiful things around her. Perhaps she
sailed in the moon's silver boat and knew why the
stars kept twinkling. Perhaps she feasted on sunshine and dew
and slept on the soft white clouds more than anything
in her sky home. Iris loved her grandfather the stern
old Ocean. When he was merry and drove his white
horses over the water, she was happy when he was
troubled and the sky grew dark. And sad. She quietly
slipped her hand into his. Instantly he smiled and became
gentle again. He longed always to keep her with him,
But the Sun said no. Iris belongs to both ocean
and sky. Let her be the messenger between heaven and Earth.
They placed golden wings upon her shoulders and made her
a bridge of beautiful colors. One end of the bridge
they rested in the sky. But the other Iris could
fasten to the earth with a pot of gold. This
was the way Iris's path was made. The earth gave
the tints of her fairest flowers, the sea brought great
ribbons of silvery mist. The wind was the shuttle, the
sky was the loom, and the Sun himself was the weaver.
It is no wonder that the most beautiful thing in
all the world is Iris's bridge, the rainbow, the end Prometheus.
Greece is far away to the east, over a great ocean.
It is a very small country, with high mountains in
every part of it. The people who lived there long
ago could not easily go from one place to another.
Some of the mountains reached above the clouds and made
great walls around their homes. Men sometimes lived all their
lives near the sea and never saw it. These people
who were shut up in a little valley of Greece
did many wonderful things. As they could not go far
from their humes, they had time to see how beautiful
the things around them were. Perhaps they looked at the
sky so much that they wished to have everything on
earth just as beautiful. They gave their children work to do,
which made them strong and graceful. Some of the Greeks
carved statues from the marble in the mountains. Some built
great temples of it. Some painted pictures, while others made
gardens more beautiful than pictures. Others wrote books. Many of
the stories you like were written by the poets who
lived in Greece long ago. In all these ways, the
Greeks showed their love for their country and made it
a better place in which to live. Though they were
so wise, they had many thoughts which seemed strange to us.
They believed that long before they were born, a race
of giants had lived among the mountains. At one time,
the giants grew angry with Zeus, their king, and wished
to take his throne away from him. There was a
wise giant named Prometheus, who begged them not to attempt
to do this. He tried to show them how foolish
they were. They would not listen to him. Zeus lived
upon Mount Olympus, the highest mountain in Greece. The giants
brought great rocks to this mountain and piled them up
higher and higher until they reached the sky. Zeus waited
until the giants had finished their work and were ready
for battle. Then he put out his hand and touched
the great mound. Instantly, it fell over into the sea.
Promytheus and his brother were now the only people on earth.
They were so lonely that Zeus told them to model
some people from clay. Promytheus made animals and men, and
Epimytheus his brother gave them gifts of courage, swiftness, and strength.
To some he gave feathers and wings, to others fur
and claws, and to others a hard shelly covering. When
he came to man, he had no covering left. Zeus said,
I will clothe man, and that is the reason his
covering is so delicate and beautiful. Prometheus's people could not breathe.
Zeus sent him to Yellows, the god of the winds
for help. Yellos sent his strong son north Wind back
with Prometheus. When north Wind saw the people of Clay,
he whistled with surprise. He blew his breath upon them.
They turned as white as snow and began to breathe.
They were a cold people, however, and Prometheus did not
love them. He went to ILOs again, and this time
south Wind and the zephyrs came with him. South Wind
brought the people green grass and flowers and birds. The
zephyrs showed them how to laugh and cry, and sing
and dance. But the people were stupid. They lived like
ants in dark caves. Promytheus saw that there was only
one thing which could help them. That was fire. Fire
was the most precious thing Zeus had, and he kept
it ever burning around his throne. When Prometheus asked for fire,
Zeus was angry. I have already given too much to
your people, he said, let them now help themselves. Promeytheus
was sad. Indeed, he loved his people more than he
did himself. At last, he said, they shall have the fire.
I will pay for it with my life. He went
straight to Zeus's throne and filled a farrow with it.
And carried it to his people. Then the people began
to be wise. He taught them to cook and to
build houses, and to sail their ships upon the ocean.
He showed them how to get rich oars from the
mountains and prepare them for use. They learned how to
plow and to reap, and to store up their food
for the winter. Zeus was angry with Prometheus. He chained
him to a rock on the top of a high mountain.
He sent a great bird each day to torment him.
Zeus said that he must stay there until he repented
and returned the fire to heaven. There Prometheus stayed and
suffered for many burning summers and long cold winters. Sometimes
he grew fainthearted, and wished to be free. Then he
looked down and saw how the fire was helping the people,
and how happy they were, and he grew strong again.
After many, many years, a Greek hero who was sailing
over the mountain in a golden cup, saw Prometheus. It
was Hercules. He shot the bird with a golden arrow,
unbound the chain, and set the wise Prometheus free. The
end end of Miscellaneous Stories, end of Nature Myths and
Stories for Little Children by Flora J. Cook Read to
You by Linnett Gaisel