Citation
The golden-breasted KooToo

Material Information

Title:
The golden-breasted KooToo
Cover title:
Golden-breasted KooToo and other stories
Creator:
Richards, Laura Elizabeth Howe, 1850-1943
Little, Brown and Company ( Publisher )
University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )
John Wilson and Son ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publisher:
Little, Brown, and Company
Manufacturer:
University Press ; John Wilson and Son
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
61 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Wit and humor, Juvenile -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1899 ( lcsh )
Fantasy literature -- 1899 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1899
Genre:
Children's stories
Fantasy literature ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

Statement of Responsibility:
by Laura E. Richards.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026933182 ( ALEPH )
ALH7050 ( NOTIS )
02159142 ( OCLC )

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THE

GOLDEN-BREASTED
KOOTOO

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

AUTHOR OF “CAPTAIN JANUARY,” “THE JOYOUS STORY
OF TOTO,” ‘*TOTO’S MERRY WINTER,”
“IN MY NURSERY,” ETC.

Â¥

, BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY



Copyright, 1885,

By Roserrs Brorurrs

Copyright, 1899,

By Lirrir, Brown, anp Co.



All rights reserved

Eniversity Press;

Joun Wiison AND Son, CAmBrinGe, U.S. A.



CONTENTS

PAGE
Tur Goipen-Breastep Kooroo Us ey ats eee)
Tur Story or Hoxry PoKkry : 25
Tue Ambitious Rockine-Horset ieee pee nets 4 ()

SO DWAR eon ae eee his et ee eed

Tue TRAVELLER, THE Cook, AND THE LitTLe

OTe NAN ee ee ne a):



“THE

ah

Ef

GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.



PARTE

NCE upon a time — and a good time it
was—there lived a king. I do not

know exactly what his name was, or just
where he lived; but it doesn’t matter at all:

his kingdom was somewhere between Ashan-

tee and Holland, and his name sounded a
little like Samuel, and a little like Dolabella,
and a good deal like Chimborazo, and yet it
was not quite any of them. But, as I said
before, it doesn’t matter. We will call him
the King, and that will be all that is neces-
sary, as there is no other king in the story.
This King was very fond of music ; in fact,
he was excessively fond of it. He kept four
bands of music playing all day long. The
first was a brass band, the second was a



6 THE COLDEN-BREASTHD SO ee

string band, the third was a rubber band,
and the fourth was a man who played on
the jews-harp. (Some people thought he
ought not to be called a band, but he said
he was all the jews-harp band there was,
and that was very true.) The four bands
played all day long on the four sides of the
grand courtyard, and the King sat on a
throne in the middle and transacted affairs
of state. And when His Majesty went to
bed at night, the grand chamberlain wound
up a musical-box that was in his pillow,
and another one in the top bureau-drawer, and
they played “The Dog’s-meat Man” and
“Pride 6f the Pirate’s Heart” till daylight
did appear.

One day it occurred to the King that it
would be an excellent plan for him to learn
to sing. He wondered that he had never
thought of it before. “You see,’ he said,
“it would amuse me very much to sing while
Tam out hunting. I cannot take the bands
with me to the forest, for they would frighten
away the wild beasts; and I miss my music



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. l

very much on such occasions. Yes, decidedly,
T will learn to sing.”

So he sent for the Chief Musician, and
ordered him to teach him to sing. The
Chief Musician was delighted, and said they
would begin at once. So he sat down at
the piano, and struck a note. “O King,”
he said, “please sing this note.” And the
King sang, in a loud, deep ae



The Chief Musician was enchanted:
“Superb!” he cried. “ Magnificent! Now, O

(22;

King, please to sing this note!” and he struck

another note: E ene = The King sang,

voice, ——

The Chief Musician looked grave.



in a loud, deep

“O King,” he said, “you did not aan under-

stand me. We will try another note.” And

he struck another: = The King
=

sang, in a loud, deep voice,



fe= == The Chief mien looked de-

= jected. “TI fear, O King,” he
said, “that you can never learn to sing.”
“What do you mean by that, Chief Musi-
cran?”’ asked the King. “It is your business.





8 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

to teach me to sing. Do you not know how
to teach?” ‘No man knows better,” replied
the Chief Musician. “But Your Majesty has

?



a”

“ «Take this man and behead him!’ said the King.

no ear for music. You never can sing but
one note.”

At these words the King grew purple in
the face. He said nothing, for he was a man
of few words; but he rang a large bell, and



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 9

an executioner appeared. “Take this man
and behead him!” said the King. “ And
send me the Second Musician!”

The Second Musician came, looking very
grave, for he had heard the shrieks of his
unhappy superior as he was dragged off to
execution, and he had no desire to share his
fate. He bowed low, and demanded His
Majesty’s pleasure. “Teach me to sing!”
said His Majesty. So the Second Musician
sat down at the piano, and tried several notes,
just as the Chief Musician had done, and with
the same result. Whatever note was struck,

the King still sang [© EY

—_g—__.



Now the Second Musician was a quick-
witted fellow, and he saw in a moment what
the trouble had been with his predecessor, and
saw, too, what great peril he was in himself.
So he assumed a look of grave importance,
and said solemnly, “O King, this is a very
serious matter. I cannot conceal from you
that there are great obstacles in the way of
your learning to sing —” The King looked
at the bell. ‘ But,” said the Second Musi-



10 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

cian, “they can be overcome.” The King
looked away again. “Ibeg,” said the Second
Musician, “for twenty-four hours’ time for
consideration. At the end of that time I shall
have decided upon the best method of teach-
and I am bound to say this to Your

>

ing ;
Majesty, that.1rF you learn to sing —’
“Wat?” said the King, looking at the
bell again. ‘That wHEN you learn to sing,’
said the Second Musician hastily, — “ when
you learn to sing, your singing will be like no
other that has ever been heard.” This pleased

the King, and he graciously accorded the



desired delay.

Accordingly the Second Musician took his
leave with great humility, and spent all that
night and the following day plunged in the
deepest thought. As soon as the twenty-four
hours had elapsed he again appeared before
the King, who was awaiting him impatiently,
sitting on the music-stool. “Well?” said
the King. “ Quite well, O King, I thank
you,” replied the Second Musician, “though
somewhat fatigued by my labors.” “ Pshaw!”



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 11

said the King impatiently. “ Have you found
a way of teaching me to sing?” “T have, O
King,” replied the Second Musician solemnly ;
“but it is not an easy way. Nevertheless it
is the only one.’ The King assured him that
money was no object, and begged him to
unfold his plan. ‘In order to learn to sing,”
said the Second Musician, “you must eat a
pie composed of all the singing-birds in the |
world. In this way only can the difficulty of
your having no natural ear for music be over-
come. If asingle bird is omitted, or if you
do not consume the whole pie, the charm will
have no effect. I leave Your Majesty to judge
of the difficulty of the undertaking.”
Difficulty? The King would not admit
that there was such a word. He instantly
summoned his Chief Huntsman, and ordered
him to send other huntsmen to every country

in the world, to bring back a specimen*6f. ~

every kind of singing-bird. Accordingly, as
there were sixty countries in the world at
that time, sixty huntsmen started off im-
mediately, fully armed and equipped.



12, THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

After they were gone, the King, who was
very impatient, summoned his Wise Men, and
bade them look in all the books, and find out
‘how many kinds of singing-birds there were in
the world. The Wise Men all put their spec-
tacles on their noses, and their noses into their
books, and after studying a long time, and
adding up on their slates the number of birds
described in each book, they found that there
were in all nine thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine varieties of singing-birds.

They made their report to the King, and he
was rather troubled by it; for he remembered
that the Second Musician had said he must
eat every morsel of the pie himself, or the
charm would have no effect. It would be a
very large pie, he thought, with nine thousand
nine hundred and ninety-nine birds in it.
“The only way,” he said to himself, “‘ will be
for me to eat as little as possible until the
huntsmen come back, then I shall be very
hungry. I have never been very hungry in
my life, so there is no knowing how much I
could eat if I were.’ So the King ate nothing



Pages
13-14
Missing
From
Original



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 15

the counting of the birds. He rode on horse- |
back, and was accompanied only by the Chief
Huntsman and the jews-harp band, the cou-



“ He rode on horseback, and was accompanied only by the Chief

Huntsman and the jews-harp band.”

rier being obliged to wait for the King’s best
wig to be curled. .

The poor Band hada hard time of it; for
he had a very frisky horse, and found it ex-
tremely difficult to manage the beast with
one hand and hold the jews-harp with the



16 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

other; but the King, with much ingenuity,
fastened the head of the horse to the tail of
his own steady cob, thereby enabling the
musician to give all his attention to his in-
strument. The music was a trifle jerky at
times; but what of that? It was music,
and the- King was satisfied.

They rode night and day, and at length
arrived at the Vale of Coringo, and took
lodgings at the principal hotel. The King
was very weary, as he had been riding for a
week without stopping. So he went to bed
at once, and slept for two whole days.

On the. morning of the third day he was
roused from a wonderful dream (in which he
was singing a duet with the Golden-breasted
Kootoo, to a jews-harp accompaniment) by
the sound of music. The King sat up in bed,
and listened. It was a bird’s song that he
heard, and it seemed to come from the vines
outside his window. But what a song it
was! And what a bird it must be that could
utter such wondrous sounds! He listened,
too enchanted to move, while the magical



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 17

song swelled louder and clearer, filling the
air with melody. At last he rose, and crept
softly to the window.








There, on a swinging
vine, sat a beautiful
bird, all golden yel-
low, with streaks of
green on its back.

&: It was the
Sloe Golden-
breasted




Kootoo!

There could

“Seizing his gun, he hastily descended beno doubt

the stairs.” about Tt.

even if its marvellous son @ had not announced

it as the sweetest singer of the whole world.
2



18 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

Very quietly, but trembling with excitement,
the King put on his slippers and his“flowered
dressing-gown, and seizing his gun, he hastily
descended the stairs.

It was early dawn, and nobody was awake
in the hotel except the Boots, who was black-
ing his namesakes in the back hall. He saw
the King come down, and thought he had
come to get his boots; but the monarch paid
no attention to him, quietly unbolted the
front door, and slipped out into the garden.
Was he too late? Had the bird flown? No,
the magic song still rose from the vines
outside his chamber-window. But even
now, as the King approached, a fluttering
was heard, and the Golden-breasted Kootoo,
spreading its wings, flew slowly away over
the garden wall, and away towards the moun-.
tain which rose just behind the hotel. The
King followed, clambering painfully over the
high wall, and leaving fragments of his bro-
cade dressing-gown on the sharp spikes which
garnished it. Once over, he made all speed,
and found that he could well keep the bird



THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 19

in sight, for it was flying very slowly. A
provoking bird it was, to be sure! It would
fly a little way, and then, alighting on a
bush or hanging spray, would pour forth a
flood of melody, as if inviting its pursuer to
come nearer; but before the unhappy King
could get within gunshot, it would flutter
slowly onward, keeping just out of reach,

and uttering a series of mocking notes, which |»

seemed to laugh at his efforts. On and on
flew the bird, up the steep mountain; on and
on went the King in pursuit. It is all very
well to 7y up a mountain ; but to crawl and
climb up, with a heavy gun in one’s hand,
and one’s dressing-gown catching on every
sharp point of rock, and the tassel of one’s
nightcap bobbing into one’s eyes, is a very
different matter, I can tell you. But the
King never thought of stopping for an in-
stant; not he! He lost first one slipper,
and then the other; the cord and tassels of
his dressing-gown tripped him up, so that he
fell and almost broke his nose; and finally
his gun slipped from his hold and went



20 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

crashing down over a precipice; but still
the King climbed on and on, breathless but
undaunted.

At length, at the very top of the moun-
tain, as it seemed, the bird made a longer
pause than usual. It lighted on a point of
rock, and folding its wings, seemed really to
wait for the King, singing, meanwhile, a
song of the most inviting and encouraging
description. Nearer and nearer crept the
King, and still the bird did not move. He
was within arm’s length, and was just stretch-
ing out his arm to seize the prize, when it
fluttered off the rock. Frantic with excite-
ment, the King made a desperate clutch after
it, and —

,



ARIE ble

T eight o’clock the landlady knocked at
the King’s door. “ Hot water, Your
Majesty,” she said. “Shall I bring the can
in? And the Band desires his respects, and
would you wish him to play while you are
a-dressing, being as you didn’t bring a music-
box with you?”
Receiving no answer, after knocking several .
times, the good woman opened the door very
cautiously, and peeped in, fully expecting to
see the royal night-cap reposing calmly on
the pillow. What was her amazement at
finding the room empty; no sign of the King
was to be seen, although his pink-silk knee-
breeches lay on a chair, and his ermine
mantle and his crown were hanging on a
peg against the wall.
‘The landlady gave the alarm at once. The
King had disappeared! He had been robbed,
murdered ; the assassins had chopped him up



De, THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

into little pieces and carried him away in
a bundle-handkerchief! “Murder! police!
fire! | 1!”

In the midst of the wild confusion the
voice of the Boots was heard. “Please, ’m,
I see His Majesty go out at about five o'clock
this morning.”

Again the chorus rose: he had run away ;
he had gone to surprise and slay the King of
Coringo while he was taking his morning
chocolate; he had gone to take a bath im
the river, and was drowned! “ Murder!
police!”

The voice of the Boots was heard again.
“And please, ’m, he’s a sittin’ out in the
courtyard now; and please, ’m, I think he’s
crazy |!” Eg

Out rushed everybody, pell-mell, into the
courtyard. There, on the ground, sat the
King, with his tattered dressing-gown wrapped
majestically about him. An ecstatic smile
illuminated his face, while he clasped in his
arms a large bird with shining plumage.

“Bless me!” cried the poultry-woman.





THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 93

“Tf he hasn’t got my Shanghai rooster that
I couldn’t catch last night!”

The King, hearing voices, looked round,
and smiled graciously on the astonished crowd.
“Good people,” he said, ‘ success has crowned
my efforts. I have found the Golden-breasted
Kootoo! You shall all have ten pounds
apiece, in honor of this joyful event, and
the landlady shall ‘be made ‘a baroness in
her own right!”

“ But,” said the poultry-woman, “it is my
Shang —” .

“ Be still, you idiot !”” whispered the land-
lady, putting her hand over the woman’s
mouth. “Do you want to lose your ten pounds
and your head too? If the King has caught
the Golden-breasted Kootoo, why, then it is
the Golden-breasted Kootoo, as sure as I am
a baroness!”’ and she added in a still lower
tone, “ There hasn’t been a Kootoo seen in
the Vale for ten years; the birds have died
out.”

Great were the rejoicings at the palace
when the King returned in triumph, bringing



24 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

with him the much-coveted prize, the Golden-
breasted Kootoo. The bands played until
they almost killed themselves; the cooks
waved their ladles and set to work at once on
the pie; the huntsmen sang hunting-songs.
All was joy and rapture, except in the breast
of one man; that man was the Second Musi-
clan, or, as we’should now call him, the Chief
Musician. He felt no thrill of joy at sight of
the wondrous bird ; on the contrary, he made
his will, and prepared to leave the country at
once ; but when the pie was finished, and he
saw its huge dimensions, he was comforted.
“ No man,” he said to himself, “can eat the
whole of that pie and live!”

Alas! he was right. .The unhappy King
fell a victim to his musical ambition before
he had half finished his pie, and died in a fit.
His subjects ate the remainder of the mighty
pasty, with mingled. tears and smiles, as a
memorial feast; and if the Golden-breasted
Kootoo was a Shanghai rooster, nobody in the
kingdom was ever the wiser for it.





ease

-THE-STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

OKEY POKEY was the youngest of a
large family of children. His elder
brothers, as they grew up, all became either
butchers or bakers or makers of candlesticks,
for such was the custom of the family. But
Hokey Pokey would be none of these things ;
so when he was grown to be a tall youth he
went to his father and said, “Give me my
fortune.”

“ Will you be a butcher?” asked his father.

“No!” said Hokey Pokey.

“Will you be a baker?”

“No, again.”

“ Will you make candlesticks ?”’

“Nor that either !”

“Then,” said his father, “this is the only
fortune I can give you;” and with that he
took up his cudgel and gave the youth a stout
beating. “ Now you cannot complain that I
gave you nothing!”’ said he.



€&

26 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“That is true!” said Hokey Pokey. “ But
give me also the wooden mallet which lies on
the shelf, and I will make my way through
the world.”

His father gave him the mallet, glad to be
so easily rid of him, and Hokey Pokey went
out into the world to seek his fortune. He
walked ali day, and at nightfall he came to a
small village. Feeling hungry, he went into
a baker's shop, intending to buy a loaf of
bread for his supper. ‘There was a great
noise and confusion in the back part of the
shop; and on going to see what was the
matter, he found the baker: on his knees
beside a large box or chest, which he was
trying with might and main to keep shut,
But there was something inside the box which
was trying just as hard to get out, and it
screamed and kicked, and pushed the lid up
as often as the baker shut it down.

“What have you there in the box?” asked
Hokey Pokey.

“J have my wife,” replied the baker.
“ She is so frightfully ill-tempered that when-



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 27

ever I am going to bake bread I am obliged
to shut her up in this box, lest she push me
into the oven and bake me with the bread,
as she has often threatened to do. But
to-day she has broken the lock of the box,
and J know not how to keep her down.”
“That is easily managed,” said Hokey
Pokey. ‘Do you but tell her, when she asks
who I am, that I am a giant with three heads,
and all will be well.’ So saying, he took his
wooden mallet and dealt three tremendous
blows on the box, saying in a loud voice, —

“ Hickory Hox!
I sit by the box,
Waiting to give you a few of my knocks.”

“ Husband, husband! whom have you
there?” cried the wife in terror.

“Alas!” said the baker; “it is a frightful
giant with three heads. He is sitting by the
box, and if you open it so much as the width
of your little finger, he will pull you out and
beat you to powder.”

When the wife heard that she crouched
down in the box, and said never a word, for
she was afraid of her life.



25 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

The baker then took Hokey Pokey into
the other part of the shop, thanked him
warmly, and gave him a good supper and a
bed. The next morning he gave him for a
present the finest loaf of bread in his shop,
which was shaped like a large round ball ;
and Hokey Pokey, after knocking once more
on the lid of the box, continued his travels.

He had not gone far before he came to
another village, and wishing to inquire his
way he entered the first shop he came to,
which proved to be that of a confectioner.
The shop was full of the most beautiful sweet-
meats imaginable, and everything was bright
and gay; but the confectioner himself sat
upon a berch, weeping bitterly.

“What ails you, friend?” asked .Hokey
Pokey ; “and why do you weep, when you: pre
surrounded by the most ‘telightful th’ ags in
the world ?” é

“ Alas!” replied the confectioner, fa That



is Just the cause_ofsmy trouble. “Lhe sweet-
so good that their
é, and the Rat




meats that I’ make ar
fame has spread _far and Wy



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 29

King, hearmg of them, has taken up his
abode in my cellar. Every night he comes
up and eats all the sweetmeats I have made
the day before. There is no comfort in my
life, and I am thinking of becoming a rope-
maker and hanging myself with the first
rope I make.”

“Why don’t you set a trap for him?”
asked Hokey Pokey.

“T have set fifty-nine traps,’ replied the
confectioner, “but he is so strong that he
breaks them all.”

“ Poison him,” suggested Hokey Pokey.

‘“‘ He dislikes poison,” said the confectioner,
“ and will not take it in any form.”

“In that case,” said Hokey Pokey, “leave
him to me.’ Go away, and hide yourself for
a few. minutes, and all will be well.”

The confectioner retired behind a large
screen, having first showed Hokey Pokey the
hole of the Rat King, which was certainly a
very-large ene. Hokey Pokey sat down by
the hole, with his mallet er hand, and said
in a squeaking voice, 7a





30 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“Ratly King! Kingly Rat!
Here your mate comes pit-a-pat.
Come and see ; the way is free;
Hear my signal: one! two! three!”







“The confectioner thanked him warmly.”

And he scratched three times on the floor.
Almost immediately the head of a rat popped
up through the hole. He was a huge rat,
quite as large as a cat; but his size was no
help to him, for as soon as he appeared, Hokey



9

THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 31

Pokey dealt him such a blow with his mallet ~
that he fell down dead without even a squeak:
Then Hokey Pokey called the confectioner, .
who came out from behind the screen and
thanked him warmly ; he also bade him choose
anything he liked in the shop, in payment for
his services.

“Can you match this?” asked Hokey
Pokey, showing his round ball of bread.

“That can I!” said the confectioner; and
he brought out a most beautiful ball, twice as
large as the loaf, composed of the finest sweet-
meats in the world, red and yellow and white.
Hokey Pokey took it with many thanks, and
then went on his way.

The next day he came to a third village,
in the streets of which the people were all
running to and fro in the wildest confusion.

“What is the matter?” asked Hokey
Pokey, as one man ran directly into his
arms,

“Alas!” replied the man. “A wild bull
has got into the principal china-shop, and is
breaking all the beautiful dishes.”



32 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“Why do you not drive him out?” asked
Hokey Pokey.

«“ We are afraid to do that,
“but we are running up and down to express

29

said the man ;

our emotion and sympathy, and that is some-
thing.”

“Show me the china-shop!” said Hokey
Pokey.

So the man showed him the china-shop ;
and there, sure, enough, was a furious bull,
making most terrible havoc. He was dancing
up and down on a Dresden dinner set, and
butting at the Chinese mandarins, and switch-
ing down finger-bowls and tea-pots with his
tail, bellowing meanwhile in the most out-
rageous manner. The floor was covered with
broken crockery, and the whole scene was
melancholy to behold.

Now when Hokey Pokey saw this, he said
to the owner of the clhina-shop, who was tear-
ing his hair in a frenzy of despair, “ Stop tear-
ing your hair, which is indeed a senseless
occupation, and I will manage this matter for
you. Bring me a red cotton umbrella, and all
will yet be well.”



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 33

So the china-shop man brought him a red
cotton umbrella, and Hokey Pokey began to
open and shut it violently in front of the
door. When the bull saw that, he stopped
dancing on the Dresden dinner set and came
charging out of the shop, straight towards the
red umbrella. When he came near enough,
Hokey Pokey dropped the umbrella, and rais-
ing his wooden mallet hit the bull such a blow
on the muzzle that he fell down dead, and
never bellowed again.

The people all flung up their hats, and
cheered, and ran up and down all the more,
toexpress their gratification. As for the china-
shop man, he threw his arms round Hokey
Pokey’s neck, called him his cherished pre-
server, and bade him choose anything that was
left in his shop in payment for his services.

“Can you match these?” asked Hokey
Pokey, holding up the loaf of bread and the
ball of sweetmeats.

“That can I,” said the shop-man; and he
brought out a huge ball of solid ivory, inlaid

with gold and silver, and truly lovely to
3



34 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

behold. It was very heavy, being twice as
large as the ball of sweetmeats ; but Hokey
Pokey took it, and, after thanking the shop-
man and receiving his thanks in return, he
proceeded on his way.

After walking. for several days, he came
to a fair, large castle, in front’ of which sat
a man on horseback. When the man saw
Hokey Pokey, he called out, —

“Who are you, and what do you bring to
the mighty Dragon, lord of this castle?”

“Hokey Pokey is my name,” replied the
youth, “and strange things do I bring. But
what does the mighty Dragon want, for
example?”

_ “He wants something new to eat,’ said
the man on horseback. “He has eaten of
everything that is known in the world, and
pines for something new. He who brings
him a new dish, never before tasted by him,
shall have a thousand crowns and a new
jacket; but he who fails, after three trials,
shall have his jacket taken away from him,
and his head cut off besides.”



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. @ 35

“T bring strange food,” said Hokey Pokey.
‘“¢ Let me pass in, that I may serve the mighty
Dragon.”

Then the man on horseback lowered his
lance, and let him pass in, and in short
space he came before the mighty Dragon.
The Dragon sat on a silver throne, with a
golden’ knife in one hand, and a golden fork
in the other. Around him were many peo-
ple, who offered him dishes of every descrip-
tion ; but he would none of them, for he had
tasted them all before; and he howled with
hunger on his silver throne. Then came
forward Hokey Pokey, and said boldly, —

“Here come I, Hokey Pokey, bringing
strange food for the mighty Dragon.”

The Dragon howled again, and waving
his knife and fork, bade Hokey Pokey -give
the food to the attendants, that they might
serve him. .

“ Not so,” said Hokey Pokey. ‘I must
serve you myself, most mighty Dragon, else
you shall not taste of my food. Therefore
put down your knife and fork, and open your



=

36 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

mouth, and you shall see what you shall
see.”

So the Dragon, after summoning the man-
with-the-thousand-crowns and the man-with-
the-new-jacket to one side of his throne,
and the man-to-take-away-the-old-jacket and
the executioner to the other, laid down his
knife and fork and opened his mouth. Hokey
Pokey stepped lightly forward, and dropped
the round loaf down the great red throat.
The Dragon shut his jaws together with a
snap, and swallowed the loaf in two gulps.

“That is good,” he said; “but it is not
new. I have eaten much bread, though never
before in a round loaf. Have you anything
more? Or shall the man take away your
jacket?”

“JT have this, an it please you,” said Hokey
Pokey; and he dropped the ball of sweet-
meats into the Dragon’s mouth.

When the Dragon tasted this, he rolled
his eyes round and round, and was speechless
with delight for some time. At length he
said, “ Worthy youth, this is very good; it



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. Silk

is extremely good ; it is better than anything
I ever tasted. Nevertheless, it is not new;
for I have tasted the same kind of thing
before, only not nearly so good. And now,
unless you are positively sure that you have
something new for your third trial, you
really might as well take off your jacket ;
and the executioner shall take off your head
at the same time, as it is getting rather late.
Executioner, do your —”

“Craving your pardon, most mighty
Dragon,’ said Hokey Pokey, “I will first
make my third trial;” and with that he
dropped the ivory ball into the Dragon’s
mouth.

“ Gug-wuge-gllll-grrr!” said the Dragon,
for the ball had stuck fast, being too big for
him to swallow.

Then Hokey Pokey lifted his mallet and
struck one tremendous blow upon the ball,
driving it far down the throat of the monster,
and killing him most fatally dead. He rolled
off the throne like a scaly log, and his crown
fell off and rolled to Hokey Pokey’s feet. The



38 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

youth picked it up and put it on his own
head, and then called the people about him
and addressed them.





“«* People, he said, ‘I am Hokey Pokey.’”

“ People,’ he said, “I am Hokey Pokey,
and I have come from a far land to rule over
you. Your Dragon have I slain, and now I
am your king; and if you will always do
exactly what I tell you to do, you will have
no further trouble.”

So the people threw up their caps and
cried, “Long live Hokey Pokey!” and they



THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 39

always did exactly as he told them, and
had no further trouble.

And Hokey Pokey sent for his three
brothers, and made them Chief Butcher, Chief
Baker, and Chief Candlestick-maker of his
kingdom. But to his father he sent a large
cudgel made of pure gold, with these words
engraved on it: “ Now you cannot complain
that I have given you nothing!” x



THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE.

HERE was once a rocking-horse, but he
did not want to be a rocking-horse.
He wanted to be a trotter.
He went to a jockey and asked him if he
would like to buy a trotter.
“« Where is your trotter ?” asked the jockey.
“Me’s him!” said the rocking-horse. That
was all the grammar he knew.
“Oh!” said the jockey. “ You are the
trotter, eh?”
“Yes,” said the rocking-horse. “What
will you give me for myself?”
“ A bushel of shavings,” said the jockey.
The rocking-horse thought that was better
than nothing, so he sold himself. Then the
jockey took him to another jockey who was
blind, and told him (the blind jockey) that
this was the Sky-born Snorter of the Sarsapa-
rillas, and that he could trot two miles in a

o





THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE, 41

minute. So the blind jockey bought him, and
paid ten thousand dollars for him.

There was a race the next day, and the
blind jockey took the Sky-born Snorter to the





“*Me’s him,’ said the rocking-horse.”

race-course, and started him with the other
horses. The other horses trotted away round
the course, but the Sky-born Snorter stayed
just where he was, and rocked: and when the
other horses came round the turn, there he
was waiting for them at the judge’s stand.
So he won the race; and the jndge gave the



42 THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE.

prize, which was a white buffalo, to the blind .
jockey.

The jockey put the Sky-born Snorter in the
stable, and then went to get his white buffalo ;
and while he was gone, the other jockeys came
“into the stable to see the new horse.

“Why, he’s a rocking-horse!”’ said one of
them. |

‘“ Flush!” said the Sky-born Snorter. “ Yes,
Tama rocking-horse, but don’t tell my master.
He does n’t know it, and he paid ten thousand
dollars for me.”

“Whom did he pay it to?” asked the
jockeys.

“ To the other jockey, who bought me from
myself,” replied the Snorter.

“Oh! and what did he give for you?”

“ A bushel of shavings,” said the Snorter.

“ Ah!” said one of the jockeys. “A bushel
of shavings, eh? Now, how would you like
to have those shavings turned into gold?”

“Very much indeed!” cried the Sky-born.

“ Well,” said the jockey, “ bees them De
and we will change them for you.”



THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE., ‘43

So the rocking-horse went and fetched the
shavings, and the jockeys set fire to them.
The flames sbot up, bright and yellow.

“See!” cried the jockeys. “The shav-
ings are all turned into gold. Now we will
see what we can do for you.” And they
took the Sky-born Snorter and put him in
the fire, and he turned into gold too, and was
all burned up... And the blind jockey drove
the white buffalo all the rest of his life, and
never knew the difference.

Moral: Don’t be ambitious!



“OH, DEAR!”

HIMBORAZO was a very unhappy boy.
He pouted, and he sulked, and he said,
“Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!” He
said it till everybody was tired of hearing it.
“Chimborazo,” his mother would say,
“please don’t say, ‘Oh, dear!’ any more.
It is very annoying. Say something else.”
“Qh, dear!” the boy would answer, “I
can’t! I don’t know anything else to say. -
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!! oh, DEAR!!!”
One day his mother could not bear it
any longer, and she sent for his fairy god-
mother, and told her all about it.

|?

“ Humph!” said the fairy godmother. “I
will see to it. Send the boy to me!”

So Chimborazo was sent for, and came,
hanging his head as usual. When he saw
his fairy godmother, he said, “Oh, dear!” for

he was rather afraid of her.



“OH, DEAR!” 45

«Oh, dear!’ it is!” said the godmother
sharply ; and she put on her spectacles and
looked at him. “Do you know what a bell-
punch is?”

“ Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo.. “No,
ma’am, I don’t!”

“ Well,” said the godmother, “lam going
to give you one.”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “I don’t
want one.”

“Probably not,” replied she, “but that
doesn’t make much difference. You have
it now, in your jacket pocket.”

Chimborazo felt im his pocket, and took
out a queer-looking instrument of shining
metal. “Oh, dear!” he said.

“<¢QOh, dear!’ it is!” said the fairy god-
mother. “ Now,’ she continued, “ listen to me,
Chimborazo! I am going to put you on an
allowance of ‘Oh, dears.’ This is a self-act-
ing bell-punch, and it will ring whenever
you say ‘Oh, dear!’ How many times do
you generally say it in the course of the
day ?”



46 “OH, DEAR!”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “I don’t
know. Oh, dear!”

“ Ting! ting!” the bell-punch rang twice
sharply ; and looking at it in dismay, he saw
two little round holes punched in a long slip
of pasteboard which was fastened to the
instrument, _

“Exactly!” said the fairy. “That is the
way it works, and a very pretty way, too.
Now, my boy, I am going to make you a
very liberal allowance. You may say ‘ Oh,
dear!’ forty-five times a day. There’s Jib-
erality for you 7

“ Oh, dear!” cried Chimborazo, “I”

“ Ting!” said the bell-punch. |

“ You see!” observed the fairy. ‘‘ Nothing
could be prettier. You have now had three
of this day’s allowance. It is still some hours
before noon, so I advise you to be careful.
If you exceed the allowance—” Here she
paused, and glowered through her spectacles
in a very dreadful manner. .

“Oh, dear!” cried,Chimborazo. “ What
will happen then?



“ou, DEAR!” AT

“You will see!” said the fairy godmother,
with a nod. “ Something will happen, you

may be very sure of that. _Good-by. Re-
h



member, only forty-five!4g And away she
flew out of the window.\/

“Oh, dear!” cried Chimborazo, bursting
into tears. “I don’t want it! I won’t have
it! Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
oh, DEAR!!!”

“Ting! ting ! ting-ting-ting-ding !” said the
bell-punch; and now there were ten round
holes in the strip of pasteboard. Chimborazo
was now really frightened. He was silent
for some time; and when his mother called
him to his lessons he tried very hard not to
say the dangerous words. But the habit was
so strong that he said them unconsciously.
By dinner-time there were twenty-five holes
in the cardboard strip; by tea-time there
were forty! Poor Chimborazo! he was afraid
to open his lips, for whenever he, did the
words would slip out in spite of him.

“ Well, Chimbo,” said his father after
tea, “I hear you have had a visit from



48 “OH, DEAR!”

your fairy godmother. What did she say
to you, eh?”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “she said
—oh, dear! I’ve said it again!”

ec Site said. “Oh. dear! ve said 11
’ repeated his father. ‘“‘ What do you
mean by that?”

‘Oh, dear! Ih ‘didi temean «thats -ecrica

Chimborazo hastily; and again the imexo-

Som Uo
agaln i

rable bell rang, and he knew that another
hole was punched in the fatal cardboard.
He pressed his lips firmly together, and did
not open them again except to say ‘“ Good-
night,’ until he was safe in his own room.
Then he hastily drew the hated bell-punch
from his pocket, and counted the holes in the
strip of cardboard ; there were forty-three !
“Oh, dear !” cried the boy, forgetting himself
again in his alarm, “only two more! Oh,
dear! oh, DEAR! I’ve done it again! oh —”
“Ting! ting!” went the bell-punch ; and the
cardboard was punched to the end. “Oh,
dear!” cried Chimborazo, now beside himself
with terror. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
oh, dear! ! what will become of me?”



“OH, DEAR!” 49

A strange whirring noise was heard, then
a loud clang; and the next moment the bell-
punch, as if it were alive, flew out of his hand,
out of the window, and was gone!

Chimborazo stood breathless with terror
for a few minutes, momentarily expecting
that the roof would fall in on his head, or the
floor blow up under his feet, or some appall-
ing catastrophe of some kind follow; but
nothing followed. Everything was quiet, and
there seemed to be nothing to do but go-to
bed; and so to bed he went, and slept, only
to dream that he was shot through the head
with a bell-punch, and died saying, “ Oh,
dear!”

The next morning, when Chimborazo
‘came downstairs, his father said, “ My boy, I
am. going to drive over to your grandfather's
farm this morning ; would you like to go
with me?”

A drive to the farm was-one of the
greatest pleasures Chimborazo had, so he
answered promptly, “Oh, dear /”

“Oh, very well!” said his father, looking

4



50 “OH, DEAR!”

much surprised. “ You need not go, my son,
if you do not want to. I will take Robert
instead.”

Poor Chimborazo! He had opened his
lips to say, “Thank you, papa. I should like
to go very much!” and, instead of these words,
out had popped, in his most doleful tone, the
now hated “Oh, dear!” He sat amazed ;
but was roused by his mother’s calling him
to breakfast.

“Come, Chimbo,” she said. “Here are
sausages and scrambled eggs: and you are
very fond of both of them. Which will you
have ?”

Chimborazo hastened to say, “Sausages,
please, mamma,’ — that is, he hastened to
try to say it; but all his mother heard was,
“Oh, dear!”

His father looked much displeased. “ Give
the boy some bread and water, wife,” he said
sternly. “If he cannot answer properly, he
must be taught. I have had enough of this
‘oh, dear!’ business.”

Poor Chimborazo! He saw plainly enough



“OH, DEAR!” 51

now what his punishment was to be; and the
thought of it made him tremble. He tried to
ask for some more bread, but only brought
out his “Oh, dear!” in such a lamentable tone
that his father ordered him to leave the room.
He went out into the garden, and there he
met John the gardener, carrying a basket of
rosy apples. Oh! how good they looked!

“Tam bringing some of the finest apples
up to the house, little master,” said John.
«¢ Will you have one to put in your pocket?”

“Oh, dear!” was all the poor boy could
say, though he wanted an apple, oh, so much!
And when John heard that he put the apple
back in his basket, muttering something about
ungrateful monkeys.

Poor Chimborazo! I will not give the
whole history of that miserable day,—a
miserable day it was from beginning to end.
He fared no better at dinner than at break-
fast ; for at the second “Oh, dear!” his father
sent him up to his room, “ to stay there until
he knew how to take what was given him,
and be thankful for it.” He knew well enough



52 “on, Dear!”

by this time; but he could not tell his father
so. He went to his room, and sat looking
out of the window, a hungry and miserable
boy.

In the afternoon his cousin Will came up
tosee him. “Why, Chimbo!” he cried. “Why
do you sit moping here in the house, when all
the boys are out? Come and play marbles
with me on the piazza. Ned and Harry are
out there waiting for you. Come on!”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo.

“ What’s the matter?” asked Will.
“Haven't you any marbles? Never mind.
I'll give you half of mine, if you like. Come!”

“Oh, pear!” said Chimborazo.

“Well,” said Will, “if that’s all you have
to say when I offer you marbles, Ill keep
them myself. I suppose you expected me to
give you all of them, did you? I never saw
such a fellow!” and off he went in a huff.

“Well, Chimborazo,” said the fairy god-
mother “what do you think of ‘Oh, dear!’
now ?”



“on, DEAR!” 53

Chimborazo looked at her beseechingly,
but said nothing.
“Winding that forty-five times was not





“ Touching his lips with her wand.”

. enough for you yesterday, I thought I would
let you have all you wanted to-day, you see,”
said the fairy wickedly.

The boy still looked imploringly at her,
but did not open his lips.
“ Well, well,” she said at last, touching



{

ot “OH, DEAR

his lips with her wand, “I think that is enough

in the way of punishment, though I am sorry

you broke the bell-punch. Good-by! I don’t

believe you will say ‘Oh, dear!’ any more.”
And he did n't.



THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK, AND
THE LITTLE OLD MAN.

NCE upon a time there was a little old
man who lived in a well. He was a

very small little old man, and the well was
very deep; and the only reason why he lived
there was because he could not get out.
Indeed, what better reason could he have?
He had long white hair, and a long red
nose, and a long green coat ; and this was all
he had in the world, except a three-legged
stool, a large iron kettle, and a cook. There
was not room in the well for the cook ; so she
lived on the ground above, and cooked the
little old man’s dinner and supper in the
iron kettle, and lowered them down to
him in the bucket; and the little old man
sat on the three-legged stool, and ate what-
ever the cook sent down to him, with a



56 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK,
cheerful heart, if it was good; and so
things went on very pleasantly.

But one day it hap-
pened that the cook




could not find any-
thing for the old man’s
dinner. She looked
high, and she
looked low,
but nothing
could she find ;
soshewasvery
unhappy; for
the knew her
master would
fy be miserable

% if he had no
dinner. She
sat down by
the well, and

“ The old man thought it was raining.” wept bitterly ;
and her tears fell into the well so fast that
the little old man thought it was raining, and
put up ared cotton umbrella, which he bor-



AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 57

rowed for the occasion. You may wonder
where he borrowed it ; but I cannot tell you,
because I do not know.

Now, at that moment a traveller happened
to pass by, and when he saw the cook sitting
by the well and weeping, he stopped, and asked
her what was the matter. The cook told him
that she was weeping because she could not
find anything to cook for her master’s dinner.

“And who is your master?” asked the
traveller.

“ He is a little old man,” replied the cook ;
“and he lives down in this well.”

“Why does he live there?” inquired the
traveller.

“T do not know,” answered the cook; “I
never asked him.”

“He must be a singular person,” said the
traveller. “I should like to see him. What
does he look like ?”

But this the cook could not tell him; for
she had never seen the little old man, having
come to work for him after he had gone down
to live in the well.



58 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK, —

“Does he like to receive visitors?” asked
the traveller.

“Don’t know,” said the cook. “He has
never had any to receive since I have been
here.”

!”? said the other. “I think I will
go down and pay my respects to him. Will
you let me down in the bucket ?”

“ Humph

“‘ But suppose he should mistake you for his
dinner, and eat you up?” the cook suggested.

“Pooh!” he replied. “No fear of that ;
TI can take care of myself. And as for his
dinner,” he added, “get him some radishes.
There are plenty about here. I had nothing
but radishes for my dinner, and very good
they were, though rather biting. Let down
the bucket, please! I am all right.”

“What. are radishes?” the cook called
after him as he went down.

“ Long red things, stupid! with green leaves
to them!” he shouted; and then, in a mo-
ment, he found himself at the bottom of the
well.

The little old man was delighted to see him,



AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 59

and told him that he had lived down there
forty years, and had never had a visitor before
in all that time.

“Why do you live down here?” inquired
the traveller.

“Because I cannot get out,” replied the
little old man.

“But how did you get down here in the
first place ?”

“Really,” he said, “it is so long ago that
I hardly remember. My impression is, how-
ever, that I came down in the bucket.”

“Then why, in the name of common-sense,”
said the traveller, “don’t you go up in the
bucket ?”

The little old man sprang up from the
three-legged stool, and flung his arms around
the traveller's neck. ‘“ My dear friend!” he
cried rapturously. ‘ My precious benefactor !
Thank you a thousand times for those words!
IT assure you I never thought of it before! I
will go up at once. You will excuse me?”

“Certainly,” said the traveller. “Go up
first, and I will follow you.”



60 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK,

‘The little old man got into the bucket, and
was drawn up to the top of the well. But,
alas! when the cook saw his long red nose

and his long green coat, she said to herself,



«
“This must be a radish! how lucky Tam!”
and seizing the poor little old man, she popped
him into the kettle without more ado. Then
she let the bucket down for the traveller, call-
ing to him to make haste, as she wanted to
send down her master’s dinner.



AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 61

Up came the traveller, and looking around,
asked where her master was.

“Where should he be,” said the cook, “ but
at the bottom of the well, where you left
him ?”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the
traveller. “He has just come up in the
bucket !”

“Oh!” cried the cook. “Oh! of ! ! 0-0-0-h!!!
was that my master? Why, I thought he was
a radish, and I have boiled him for his own
dinner ! ”

“T hope he will have a good appetite!”
said the traveller.

The cook was a good woman, and her grief
was so excessive that she fell into the kettle
and was boiled too.

Then the traveller, who had formerly been
an ogre by profession, said, “ Tis an ill wind
that blows nobody any good! My dinner was
very insufficient ;”’ and he ate both the little
old man and the cook, and proceeded on his
journey with a cheerful heart.















Full Text















The Baldwin Library
University

of
Florida
















ae
















THE

GOLDEN-BREASTED
KOOTOO

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

AUTHOR OF “CAPTAIN JANUARY,” “THE JOYOUS STORY
OF TOTO,” ‘*TOTO’S MERRY WINTER,”
“IN MY NURSERY,” ETC.

Â¥

, BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1885,

By Roserrs Brorurrs

Copyright, 1899,

By Lirrir, Brown, anp Co.



All rights reserved

Eniversity Press;

Joun Wiison AND Son, CAmBrinGe, U.S. A.
CONTENTS

PAGE
Tur Goipen-Breastep Kooroo Us ey ats eee)
Tur Story or Hoxry PoKkry : 25
Tue Ambitious Rockine-Horset ieee pee nets 4 ()

SO DWAR eon ae eee his et ee eed

Tue TRAVELLER, THE Cook, AND THE LitTLe

OTe NAN ee ee ne a):
“THE

ah

Ef

GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.



PARTE

NCE upon a time — and a good time it
was—there lived a king. I do not

know exactly what his name was, or just
where he lived; but it doesn’t matter at all:

his kingdom was somewhere between Ashan-

tee and Holland, and his name sounded a
little like Samuel, and a little like Dolabella,
and a good deal like Chimborazo, and yet it
was not quite any of them. But, as I said
before, it doesn’t matter. We will call him
the King, and that will be all that is neces-
sary, as there is no other king in the story.
This King was very fond of music ; in fact,
he was excessively fond of it. He kept four
bands of music playing all day long. The
first was a brass band, the second was a
6 THE COLDEN-BREASTHD SO ee

string band, the third was a rubber band,
and the fourth was a man who played on
the jews-harp. (Some people thought he
ought not to be called a band, but he said
he was all the jews-harp band there was,
and that was very true.) The four bands
played all day long on the four sides of the
grand courtyard, and the King sat on a
throne in the middle and transacted affairs
of state. And when His Majesty went to
bed at night, the grand chamberlain wound
up a musical-box that was in his pillow,
and another one in the top bureau-drawer, and
they played “The Dog’s-meat Man” and
“Pride 6f the Pirate’s Heart” till daylight
did appear.

One day it occurred to the King that it
would be an excellent plan for him to learn
to sing. He wondered that he had never
thought of it before. “You see,’ he said,
“it would amuse me very much to sing while
Tam out hunting. I cannot take the bands
with me to the forest, for they would frighten
away the wild beasts; and I miss my music
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. l

very much on such occasions. Yes, decidedly,
T will learn to sing.”

So he sent for the Chief Musician, and
ordered him to teach him to sing. The
Chief Musician was delighted, and said they
would begin at once. So he sat down at
the piano, and struck a note. “O King,”
he said, “please sing this note.” And the
King sang, in a loud, deep ae



The Chief Musician was enchanted:
“Superb!” he cried. “ Magnificent! Now, O

(22;

King, please to sing this note!” and he struck

another note: E ene = The King sang,

voice, ——

The Chief Musician looked grave.



in a loud, deep

“O King,” he said, “you did not aan under-

stand me. We will try another note.” And

he struck another: = The King
=

sang, in a loud, deep voice,



fe= == The Chief mien looked de-

= jected. “TI fear, O King,” he
said, “that you can never learn to sing.”
“What do you mean by that, Chief Musi-
cran?”’ asked the King. “It is your business.


8 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

to teach me to sing. Do you not know how
to teach?” ‘No man knows better,” replied
the Chief Musician. “But Your Majesty has

?



a”

“ «Take this man and behead him!’ said the King.

no ear for music. You never can sing but
one note.”

At these words the King grew purple in
the face. He said nothing, for he was a man
of few words; but he rang a large bell, and
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 9

an executioner appeared. “Take this man
and behead him!” said the King. “ And
send me the Second Musician!”

The Second Musician came, looking very
grave, for he had heard the shrieks of his
unhappy superior as he was dragged off to
execution, and he had no desire to share his
fate. He bowed low, and demanded His
Majesty’s pleasure. “Teach me to sing!”
said His Majesty. So the Second Musician
sat down at the piano, and tried several notes,
just as the Chief Musician had done, and with
the same result. Whatever note was struck,

the King still sang [© EY

—_g—__.



Now the Second Musician was a quick-
witted fellow, and he saw in a moment what
the trouble had been with his predecessor, and
saw, too, what great peril he was in himself.
So he assumed a look of grave importance,
and said solemnly, “O King, this is a very
serious matter. I cannot conceal from you
that there are great obstacles in the way of
your learning to sing —” The King looked
at the bell. ‘ But,” said the Second Musi-
10 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

cian, “they can be overcome.” The King
looked away again. “Ibeg,” said the Second
Musician, “for twenty-four hours’ time for
consideration. At the end of that time I shall
have decided upon the best method of teach-
and I am bound to say this to Your

>

ing ;
Majesty, that.1rF you learn to sing —’
“Wat?” said the King, looking at the
bell again. ‘That wHEN you learn to sing,’
said the Second Musician hastily, — “ when
you learn to sing, your singing will be like no
other that has ever been heard.” This pleased

the King, and he graciously accorded the



desired delay.

Accordingly the Second Musician took his
leave with great humility, and spent all that
night and the following day plunged in the
deepest thought. As soon as the twenty-four
hours had elapsed he again appeared before
the King, who was awaiting him impatiently,
sitting on the music-stool. “Well?” said
the King. “ Quite well, O King, I thank
you,” replied the Second Musician, “though
somewhat fatigued by my labors.” “ Pshaw!”
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 11

said the King impatiently. “ Have you found
a way of teaching me to sing?” “T have, O
King,” replied the Second Musician solemnly ;
“but it is not an easy way. Nevertheless it
is the only one.’ The King assured him that
money was no object, and begged him to
unfold his plan. ‘In order to learn to sing,”
said the Second Musician, “you must eat a
pie composed of all the singing-birds in the |
world. In this way only can the difficulty of
your having no natural ear for music be over-
come. If asingle bird is omitted, or if you
do not consume the whole pie, the charm will
have no effect. I leave Your Majesty to judge
of the difficulty of the undertaking.”
Difficulty? The King would not admit
that there was such a word. He instantly
summoned his Chief Huntsman, and ordered
him to send other huntsmen to every country

in the world, to bring back a specimen*6f. ~

every kind of singing-bird. Accordingly, as
there were sixty countries in the world at
that time, sixty huntsmen started off im-
mediately, fully armed and equipped.
12, THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

After they were gone, the King, who was
very impatient, summoned his Wise Men, and
bade them look in all the books, and find out
‘how many kinds of singing-birds there were in
the world. The Wise Men all put their spec-
tacles on their noses, and their noses into their
books, and after studying a long time, and
adding up on their slates the number of birds
described in each book, they found that there
were in all nine thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine varieties of singing-birds.

They made their report to the King, and he
was rather troubled by it; for he remembered
that the Second Musician had said he must
eat every morsel of the pie himself, or the
charm would have no effect. It would be a
very large pie, he thought, with nine thousand
nine hundred and ninety-nine birds in it.
“The only way,” he said to himself, “‘ will be
for me to eat as little as possible until the
huntsmen come back, then I shall be very
hungry. I have never been very hungry in
my life, so there is no knowing how much I
could eat if I were.’ So the King ate nothing
Pages
13-14
Missing
From
Original
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 15

the counting of the birds. He rode on horse- |
back, and was accompanied only by the Chief
Huntsman and the jews-harp band, the cou-



“ He rode on horseback, and was accompanied only by the Chief

Huntsman and the jews-harp band.”

rier being obliged to wait for the King’s best
wig to be curled. .

The poor Band hada hard time of it; for
he had a very frisky horse, and found it ex-
tremely difficult to manage the beast with
one hand and hold the jews-harp with the
16 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

other; but the King, with much ingenuity,
fastened the head of the horse to the tail of
his own steady cob, thereby enabling the
musician to give all his attention to his in-
strument. The music was a trifle jerky at
times; but what of that? It was music,
and the- King was satisfied.

They rode night and day, and at length
arrived at the Vale of Coringo, and took
lodgings at the principal hotel. The King
was very weary, as he had been riding for a
week without stopping. So he went to bed
at once, and slept for two whole days.

On the. morning of the third day he was
roused from a wonderful dream (in which he
was singing a duet with the Golden-breasted
Kootoo, to a jews-harp accompaniment) by
the sound of music. The King sat up in bed,
and listened. It was a bird’s song that he
heard, and it seemed to come from the vines
outside his window. But what a song it
was! And what a bird it must be that could
utter such wondrous sounds! He listened,
too enchanted to move, while the magical
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 17

song swelled louder and clearer, filling the
air with melody. At last he rose, and crept
softly to the window.








There, on a swinging
vine, sat a beautiful
bird, all golden yel-
low, with streaks of
green on its back.

&: It was the
Sloe Golden-
breasted




Kootoo!

There could

“Seizing his gun, he hastily descended beno doubt

the stairs.” about Tt.

even if its marvellous son @ had not announced

it as the sweetest singer of the whole world.
2
18 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

Very quietly, but trembling with excitement,
the King put on his slippers and his“flowered
dressing-gown, and seizing his gun, he hastily
descended the stairs.

It was early dawn, and nobody was awake
in the hotel except the Boots, who was black-
ing his namesakes in the back hall. He saw
the King come down, and thought he had
come to get his boots; but the monarch paid
no attention to him, quietly unbolted the
front door, and slipped out into the garden.
Was he too late? Had the bird flown? No,
the magic song still rose from the vines
outside his chamber-window. But even
now, as the King approached, a fluttering
was heard, and the Golden-breasted Kootoo,
spreading its wings, flew slowly away over
the garden wall, and away towards the moun-.
tain which rose just behind the hotel. The
King followed, clambering painfully over the
high wall, and leaving fragments of his bro-
cade dressing-gown on the sharp spikes which
garnished it. Once over, he made all speed,
and found that he could well keep the bird
THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 19

in sight, for it was flying very slowly. A
provoking bird it was, to be sure! It would
fly a little way, and then, alighting on a
bush or hanging spray, would pour forth a
flood of melody, as if inviting its pursuer to
come nearer; but before the unhappy King
could get within gunshot, it would flutter
slowly onward, keeping just out of reach,

and uttering a series of mocking notes, which |»

seemed to laugh at his efforts. On and on
flew the bird, up the steep mountain; on and
on went the King in pursuit. It is all very
well to 7y up a mountain ; but to crawl and
climb up, with a heavy gun in one’s hand,
and one’s dressing-gown catching on every
sharp point of rock, and the tassel of one’s
nightcap bobbing into one’s eyes, is a very
different matter, I can tell you. But the
King never thought of stopping for an in-
stant; not he! He lost first one slipper,
and then the other; the cord and tassels of
his dressing-gown tripped him up, so that he
fell and almost broke his nose; and finally
his gun slipped from his hold and went
20 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

crashing down over a precipice; but still
the King climbed on and on, breathless but
undaunted.

At length, at the very top of the moun-
tain, as it seemed, the bird made a longer
pause than usual. It lighted on a point of
rock, and folding its wings, seemed really to
wait for the King, singing, meanwhile, a
song of the most inviting and encouraging
description. Nearer and nearer crept the
King, and still the bird did not move. He
was within arm’s length, and was just stretch-
ing out his arm to seize the prize, when it
fluttered off the rock. Frantic with excite-
ment, the King made a desperate clutch after
it, and —

,
ARIE ble

T eight o’clock the landlady knocked at
the King’s door. “ Hot water, Your
Majesty,” she said. “Shall I bring the can
in? And the Band desires his respects, and
would you wish him to play while you are
a-dressing, being as you didn’t bring a music-
box with you?”
Receiving no answer, after knocking several .
times, the good woman opened the door very
cautiously, and peeped in, fully expecting to
see the royal night-cap reposing calmly on
the pillow. What was her amazement at
finding the room empty; no sign of the King
was to be seen, although his pink-silk knee-
breeches lay on a chair, and his ermine
mantle and his crown were hanging on a
peg against the wall.
‘The landlady gave the alarm at once. The
King had disappeared! He had been robbed,
murdered ; the assassins had chopped him up
De, THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

into little pieces and carried him away in
a bundle-handkerchief! “Murder! police!
fire! | 1!”

In the midst of the wild confusion the
voice of the Boots was heard. “Please, ’m,
I see His Majesty go out at about five o'clock
this morning.”

Again the chorus rose: he had run away ;
he had gone to surprise and slay the King of
Coringo while he was taking his morning
chocolate; he had gone to take a bath im
the river, and was drowned! “ Murder!
police!”

The voice of the Boots was heard again.
“And please, ’m, he’s a sittin’ out in the
courtyard now; and please, ’m, I think he’s
crazy |!” Eg

Out rushed everybody, pell-mell, into the
courtyard. There, on the ground, sat the
King, with his tattered dressing-gown wrapped
majestically about him. An ecstatic smile
illuminated his face, while he clasped in his
arms a large bird with shining plumage.

“Bless me!” cried the poultry-woman.


THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO. 93

“Tf he hasn’t got my Shanghai rooster that
I couldn’t catch last night!”

The King, hearing voices, looked round,
and smiled graciously on the astonished crowd.
“Good people,” he said, ‘ success has crowned
my efforts. I have found the Golden-breasted
Kootoo! You shall all have ten pounds
apiece, in honor of this joyful event, and
the landlady shall ‘be made ‘a baroness in
her own right!”

“ But,” said the poultry-woman, “it is my
Shang —” .

“ Be still, you idiot !”” whispered the land-
lady, putting her hand over the woman’s
mouth. “Do you want to lose your ten pounds
and your head too? If the King has caught
the Golden-breasted Kootoo, why, then it is
the Golden-breasted Kootoo, as sure as I am
a baroness!”’ and she added in a still lower
tone, “ There hasn’t been a Kootoo seen in
the Vale for ten years; the birds have died
out.”

Great were the rejoicings at the palace
when the King returned in triumph, bringing
24 THE GOLDEN-BREASTED KOOTOO.

with him the much-coveted prize, the Golden-
breasted Kootoo. The bands played until
they almost killed themselves; the cooks
waved their ladles and set to work at once on
the pie; the huntsmen sang hunting-songs.
All was joy and rapture, except in the breast
of one man; that man was the Second Musi-
clan, or, as we’should now call him, the Chief
Musician. He felt no thrill of joy at sight of
the wondrous bird ; on the contrary, he made
his will, and prepared to leave the country at
once ; but when the pie was finished, and he
saw its huge dimensions, he was comforted.
“ No man,” he said to himself, “can eat the
whole of that pie and live!”

Alas! he was right. .The unhappy King
fell a victim to his musical ambition before
he had half finished his pie, and died in a fit.
His subjects ate the remainder of the mighty
pasty, with mingled. tears and smiles, as a
memorial feast; and if the Golden-breasted
Kootoo was a Shanghai rooster, nobody in the
kingdom was ever the wiser for it.


ease

-THE-STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

OKEY POKEY was the youngest of a
large family of children. His elder
brothers, as they grew up, all became either
butchers or bakers or makers of candlesticks,
for such was the custom of the family. But
Hokey Pokey would be none of these things ;
so when he was grown to be a tall youth he
went to his father and said, “Give me my
fortune.”

“ Will you be a butcher?” asked his father.

“No!” said Hokey Pokey.

“Will you be a baker?”

“No, again.”

“ Will you make candlesticks ?”’

“Nor that either !”

“Then,” said his father, “this is the only
fortune I can give you;” and with that he
took up his cudgel and gave the youth a stout
beating. “ Now you cannot complain that I
gave you nothing!”’ said he.
€&

26 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“That is true!” said Hokey Pokey. “ But
give me also the wooden mallet which lies on
the shelf, and I will make my way through
the world.”

His father gave him the mallet, glad to be
so easily rid of him, and Hokey Pokey went
out into the world to seek his fortune. He
walked ali day, and at nightfall he came to a
small village. Feeling hungry, he went into
a baker's shop, intending to buy a loaf of
bread for his supper. ‘There was a great
noise and confusion in the back part of the
shop; and on going to see what was the
matter, he found the baker: on his knees
beside a large box or chest, which he was
trying with might and main to keep shut,
But there was something inside the box which
was trying just as hard to get out, and it
screamed and kicked, and pushed the lid up
as often as the baker shut it down.

“What have you there in the box?” asked
Hokey Pokey.

“J have my wife,” replied the baker.
“ She is so frightfully ill-tempered that when-
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 27

ever I am going to bake bread I am obliged
to shut her up in this box, lest she push me
into the oven and bake me with the bread,
as she has often threatened to do. But
to-day she has broken the lock of the box,
and J know not how to keep her down.”
“That is easily managed,” said Hokey
Pokey. ‘Do you but tell her, when she asks
who I am, that I am a giant with three heads,
and all will be well.’ So saying, he took his
wooden mallet and dealt three tremendous
blows on the box, saying in a loud voice, —

“ Hickory Hox!
I sit by the box,
Waiting to give you a few of my knocks.”

“ Husband, husband! whom have you
there?” cried the wife in terror.

“Alas!” said the baker; “it is a frightful
giant with three heads. He is sitting by the
box, and if you open it so much as the width
of your little finger, he will pull you out and
beat you to powder.”

When the wife heard that she crouched
down in the box, and said never a word, for
she was afraid of her life.
25 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

The baker then took Hokey Pokey into
the other part of the shop, thanked him
warmly, and gave him a good supper and a
bed. The next morning he gave him for a
present the finest loaf of bread in his shop,
which was shaped like a large round ball ;
and Hokey Pokey, after knocking once more
on the lid of the box, continued his travels.

He had not gone far before he came to
another village, and wishing to inquire his
way he entered the first shop he came to,
which proved to be that of a confectioner.
The shop was full of the most beautiful sweet-
meats imaginable, and everything was bright
and gay; but the confectioner himself sat
upon a berch, weeping bitterly.

“What ails you, friend?” asked .Hokey
Pokey ; “and why do you weep, when you: pre
surrounded by the most ‘telightful th’ ags in
the world ?” é

“ Alas!” replied the confectioner, fa That



is Just the cause_ofsmy trouble. “Lhe sweet-
so good that their
é, and the Rat




meats that I’ make ar
fame has spread _far and Wy
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 29

King, hearmg of them, has taken up his
abode in my cellar. Every night he comes
up and eats all the sweetmeats I have made
the day before. There is no comfort in my
life, and I am thinking of becoming a rope-
maker and hanging myself with the first
rope I make.”

“Why don’t you set a trap for him?”
asked Hokey Pokey.

“T have set fifty-nine traps,’ replied the
confectioner, “but he is so strong that he
breaks them all.”

“ Poison him,” suggested Hokey Pokey.

‘“‘ He dislikes poison,” said the confectioner,
“ and will not take it in any form.”

“In that case,” said Hokey Pokey, “leave
him to me.’ Go away, and hide yourself for
a few. minutes, and all will be well.”

The confectioner retired behind a large
screen, having first showed Hokey Pokey the
hole of the Rat King, which was certainly a
very-large ene. Hokey Pokey sat down by
the hole, with his mallet er hand, and said
in a squeaking voice, 7a


30 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“Ratly King! Kingly Rat!
Here your mate comes pit-a-pat.
Come and see ; the way is free;
Hear my signal: one! two! three!”







“The confectioner thanked him warmly.”

And he scratched three times on the floor.
Almost immediately the head of a rat popped
up through the hole. He was a huge rat,
quite as large as a cat; but his size was no
help to him, for as soon as he appeared, Hokey
9

THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 31

Pokey dealt him such a blow with his mallet ~
that he fell down dead without even a squeak:
Then Hokey Pokey called the confectioner, .
who came out from behind the screen and
thanked him warmly ; he also bade him choose
anything he liked in the shop, in payment for
his services.

“Can you match this?” asked Hokey
Pokey, showing his round ball of bread.

“That can I!” said the confectioner; and
he brought out a most beautiful ball, twice as
large as the loaf, composed of the finest sweet-
meats in the world, red and yellow and white.
Hokey Pokey took it with many thanks, and
then went on his way.

The next day he came to a third village,
in the streets of which the people were all
running to and fro in the wildest confusion.

“What is the matter?” asked Hokey
Pokey, as one man ran directly into his
arms,

“Alas!” replied the man. “A wild bull
has got into the principal china-shop, and is
breaking all the beautiful dishes.”
32 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

“Why do you not drive him out?” asked
Hokey Pokey.

«“ We are afraid to do that,
“but we are running up and down to express

29

said the man ;

our emotion and sympathy, and that is some-
thing.”

“Show me the china-shop!” said Hokey
Pokey.

So the man showed him the china-shop ;
and there, sure, enough, was a furious bull,
making most terrible havoc. He was dancing
up and down on a Dresden dinner set, and
butting at the Chinese mandarins, and switch-
ing down finger-bowls and tea-pots with his
tail, bellowing meanwhile in the most out-
rageous manner. The floor was covered with
broken crockery, and the whole scene was
melancholy to behold.

Now when Hokey Pokey saw this, he said
to the owner of the clhina-shop, who was tear-
ing his hair in a frenzy of despair, “ Stop tear-
ing your hair, which is indeed a senseless
occupation, and I will manage this matter for
you. Bring me a red cotton umbrella, and all
will yet be well.”
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 33

So the china-shop man brought him a red
cotton umbrella, and Hokey Pokey began to
open and shut it violently in front of the
door. When the bull saw that, he stopped
dancing on the Dresden dinner set and came
charging out of the shop, straight towards the
red umbrella. When he came near enough,
Hokey Pokey dropped the umbrella, and rais-
ing his wooden mallet hit the bull such a blow
on the muzzle that he fell down dead, and
never bellowed again.

The people all flung up their hats, and
cheered, and ran up and down all the more,
toexpress their gratification. As for the china-
shop man, he threw his arms round Hokey
Pokey’s neck, called him his cherished pre-
server, and bade him choose anything that was
left in his shop in payment for his services.

“Can you match these?” asked Hokey
Pokey, holding up the loaf of bread and the
ball of sweetmeats.

“That can I,” said the shop-man; and he
brought out a huge ball of solid ivory, inlaid

with gold and silver, and truly lovely to
3
34 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

behold. It was very heavy, being twice as
large as the ball of sweetmeats ; but Hokey
Pokey took it, and, after thanking the shop-
man and receiving his thanks in return, he
proceeded on his way.

After walking. for several days, he came
to a fair, large castle, in front’ of which sat
a man on horseback. When the man saw
Hokey Pokey, he called out, —

“Who are you, and what do you bring to
the mighty Dragon, lord of this castle?”

“Hokey Pokey is my name,” replied the
youth, “and strange things do I bring. But
what does the mighty Dragon want, for
example?”

_ “He wants something new to eat,’ said
the man on horseback. “He has eaten of
everything that is known in the world, and
pines for something new. He who brings
him a new dish, never before tasted by him,
shall have a thousand crowns and a new
jacket; but he who fails, after three trials,
shall have his jacket taken away from him,
and his head cut off besides.”
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. @ 35

“T bring strange food,” said Hokey Pokey.
‘“¢ Let me pass in, that I may serve the mighty
Dragon.”

Then the man on horseback lowered his
lance, and let him pass in, and in short
space he came before the mighty Dragon.
The Dragon sat on a silver throne, with a
golden’ knife in one hand, and a golden fork
in the other. Around him were many peo-
ple, who offered him dishes of every descrip-
tion ; but he would none of them, for he had
tasted them all before; and he howled with
hunger on his silver throne. Then came
forward Hokey Pokey, and said boldly, —

“Here come I, Hokey Pokey, bringing
strange food for the mighty Dragon.”

The Dragon howled again, and waving
his knife and fork, bade Hokey Pokey -give
the food to the attendants, that they might
serve him. .

“ Not so,” said Hokey Pokey. ‘I must
serve you myself, most mighty Dragon, else
you shall not taste of my food. Therefore
put down your knife and fork, and open your
=

36 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

mouth, and you shall see what you shall
see.”

So the Dragon, after summoning the man-
with-the-thousand-crowns and the man-with-
the-new-jacket to one side of his throne,
and the man-to-take-away-the-old-jacket and
the executioner to the other, laid down his
knife and fork and opened his mouth. Hokey
Pokey stepped lightly forward, and dropped
the round loaf down the great red throat.
The Dragon shut his jaws together with a
snap, and swallowed the loaf in two gulps.

“That is good,” he said; “but it is not
new. I have eaten much bread, though never
before in a round loaf. Have you anything
more? Or shall the man take away your
jacket?”

“JT have this, an it please you,” said Hokey
Pokey; and he dropped the ball of sweet-
meats into the Dragon’s mouth.

When the Dragon tasted this, he rolled
his eyes round and round, and was speechless
with delight for some time. At length he
said, “ Worthy youth, this is very good; it
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. Silk

is extremely good ; it is better than anything
I ever tasted. Nevertheless, it is not new;
for I have tasted the same kind of thing
before, only not nearly so good. And now,
unless you are positively sure that you have
something new for your third trial, you
really might as well take off your jacket ;
and the executioner shall take off your head
at the same time, as it is getting rather late.
Executioner, do your —”

“Craving your pardon, most mighty
Dragon,’ said Hokey Pokey, “I will first
make my third trial;” and with that he
dropped the ivory ball into the Dragon’s
mouth.

“ Gug-wuge-gllll-grrr!” said the Dragon,
for the ball had stuck fast, being too big for
him to swallow.

Then Hokey Pokey lifted his mallet and
struck one tremendous blow upon the ball,
driving it far down the throat of the monster,
and killing him most fatally dead. He rolled
off the throne like a scaly log, and his crown
fell off and rolled to Hokey Pokey’s feet. The
38 THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY.

youth picked it up and put it on his own
head, and then called the people about him
and addressed them.





“«* People, he said, ‘I am Hokey Pokey.’”

“ People,’ he said, “I am Hokey Pokey,
and I have come from a far land to rule over
you. Your Dragon have I slain, and now I
am your king; and if you will always do
exactly what I tell you to do, you will have
no further trouble.”

So the people threw up their caps and
cried, “Long live Hokey Pokey!” and they
THE STORY OF HOKEY POKEY. 39

always did exactly as he told them, and
had no further trouble.

And Hokey Pokey sent for his three
brothers, and made them Chief Butcher, Chief
Baker, and Chief Candlestick-maker of his
kingdom. But to his father he sent a large
cudgel made of pure gold, with these words
engraved on it: “ Now you cannot complain
that I have given you nothing!” x
THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE.

HERE was once a rocking-horse, but he
did not want to be a rocking-horse.
He wanted to be a trotter.
He went to a jockey and asked him if he
would like to buy a trotter.
“« Where is your trotter ?” asked the jockey.
“Me’s him!” said the rocking-horse. That
was all the grammar he knew.
“Oh!” said the jockey. “ You are the
trotter, eh?”
“Yes,” said the rocking-horse. “What
will you give me for myself?”
“ A bushel of shavings,” said the jockey.
The rocking-horse thought that was better
than nothing, so he sold himself. Then the
jockey took him to another jockey who was
blind, and told him (the blind jockey) that
this was the Sky-born Snorter of the Sarsapa-
rillas, and that he could trot two miles in a

o


THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE, 41

minute. So the blind jockey bought him, and
paid ten thousand dollars for him.

There was a race the next day, and the
blind jockey took the Sky-born Snorter to the





“*Me’s him,’ said the rocking-horse.”

race-course, and started him with the other
horses. The other horses trotted away round
the course, but the Sky-born Snorter stayed
just where he was, and rocked: and when the
other horses came round the turn, there he
was waiting for them at the judge’s stand.
So he won the race; and the jndge gave the
42 THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE.

prize, which was a white buffalo, to the blind .
jockey.

The jockey put the Sky-born Snorter in the
stable, and then went to get his white buffalo ;
and while he was gone, the other jockeys came
“into the stable to see the new horse.

“Why, he’s a rocking-horse!”’ said one of
them. |

‘“ Flush!” said the Sky-born Snorter. “ Yes,
Tama rocking-horse, but don’t tell my master.
He does n’t know it, and he paid ten thousand
dollars for me.”

“Whom did he pay it to?” asked the
jockeys.

“ To the other jockey, who bought me from
myself,” replied the Snorter.

“Oh! and what did he give for you?”

“ A bushel of shavings,” said the Snorter.

“ Ah!” said one of the jockeys. “A bushel
of shavings, eh? Now, how would you like
to have those shavings turned into gold?”

“Very much indeed!” cried the Sky-born.

“ Well,” said the jockey, “ bees them De
and we will change them for you.”
THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE., ‘43

So the rocking-horse went and fetched the
shavings, and the jockeys set fire to them.
The flames sbot up, bright and yellow.

“See!” cried the jockeys. “The shav-
ings are all turned into gold. Now we will
see what we can do for you.” And they
took the Sky-born Snorter and put him in
the fire, and he turned into gold too, and was
all burned up... And the blind jockey drove
the white buffalo all the rest of his life, and
never knew the difference.

Moral: Don’t be ambitious!
“OH, DEAR!”

HIMBORAZO was a very unhappy boy.
He pouted, and he sulked, and he said,
“Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!” He
said it till everybody was tired of hearing it.
“Chimborazo,” his mother would say,
“please don’t say, ‘Oh, dear!’ any more.
It is very annoying. Say something else.”
“Qh, dear!” the boy would answer, “I
can’t! I don’t know anything else to say. -
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!! oh, DEAR!!!”
One day his mother could not bear it
any longer, and she sent for his fairy god-
mother, and told her all about it.

|?

“ Humph!” said the fairy godmother. “I
will see to it. Send the boy to me!”

So Chimborazo was sent for, and came,
hanging his head as usual. When he saw
his fairy godmother, he said, “Oh, dear!” for

he was rather afraid of her.
“OH, DEAR!” 45

«Oh, dear!’ it is!” said the godmother
sharply ; and she put on her spectacles and
looked at him. “Do you know what a bell-
punch is?”

“ Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo.. “No,
ma’am, I don’t!”

“ Well,” said the godmother, “lam going
to give you one.”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “I don’t
want one.”

“Probably not,” replied she, “but that
doesn’t make much difference. You have
it now, in your jacket pocket.”

Chimborazo felt im his pocket, and took
out a queer-looking instrument of shining
metal. “Oh, dear!” he said.

“<¢QOh, dear!’ it is!” said the fairy god-
mother. “ Now,’ she continued, “ listen to me,
Chimborazo! I am going to put you on an
allowance of ‘Oh, dears.’ This is a self-act-
ing bell-punch, and it will ring whenever
you say ‘Oh, dear!’ How many times do
you generally say it in the course of the
day ?”
46 “OH, DEAR!”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “I don’t
know. Oh, dear!”

“ Ting! ting!” the bell-punch rang twice
sharply ; and looking at it in dismay, he saw
two little round holes punched in a long slip
of pasteboard which was fastened to the
instrument, _

“Exactly!” said the fairy. “That is the
way it works, and a very pretty way, too.
Now, my boy, I am going to make you a
very liberal allowance. You may say ‘ Oh,
dear!’ forty-five times a day. There’s Jib-
erality for you 7

“ Oh, dear!” cried Chimborazo, “I”

“ Ting!” said the bell-punch. |

“ You see!” observed the fairy. ‘‘ Nothing
could be prettier. You have now had three
of this day’s allowance. It is still some hours
before noon, so I advise you to be careful.
If you exceed the allowance—” Here she
paused, and glowered through her spectacles
in a very dreadful manner. .

“Oh, dear!” cried,Chimborazo. “ What
will happen then?
“ou, DEAR!” AT

“You will see!” said the fairy godmother,
with a nod. “ Something will happen, you

may be very sure of that. _Good-by. Re-
h



member, only forty-five!4g And away she
flew out of the window.\/

“Oh, dear!” cried Chimborazo, bursting
into tears. “I don’t want it! I won’t have
it! Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
oh, DEAR!!!”

“Ting! ting ! ting-ting-ting-ding !” said the
bell-punch; and now there were ten round
holes in the strip of pasteboard. Chimborazo
was now really frightened. He was silent
for some time; and when his mother called
him to his lessons he tried very hard not to
say the dangerous words. But the habit was
so strong that he said them unconsciously.
By dinner-time there were twenty-five holes
in the cardboard strip; by tea-time there
were forty! Poor Chimborazo! he was afraid
to open his lips, for whenever he, did the
words would slip out in spite of him.

“ Well, Chimbo,” said his father after
tea, “I hear you have had a visit from
48 “OH, DEAR!”

your fairy godmother. What did she say
to you, eh?”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo, “she said
—oh, dear! I’ve said it again!”

ec Site said. “Oh. dear! ve said 11
’ repeated his father. ‘“‘ What do you
mean by that?”

‘Oh, dear! Ih ‘didi temean «thats -ecrica

Chimborazo hastily; and again the imexo-

Som Uo
agaln i

rable bell rang, and he knew that another
hole was punched in the fatal cardboard.
He pressed his lips firmly together, and did
not open them again except to say ‘“ Good-
night,’ until he was safe in his own room.
Then he hastily drew the hated bell-punch
from his pocket, and counted the holes in the
strip of cardboard ; there were forty-three !
“Oh, dear !” cried the boy, forgetting himself
again in his alarm, “only two more! Oh,
dear! oh, DEAR! I’ve done it again! oh —”
“Ting! ting!” went the bell-punch ; and the
cardboard was punched to the end. “Oh,
dear!” cried Chimborazo, now beside himself
with terror. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!
oh, dear! ! what will become of me?”
“OH, DEAR!” 49

A strange whirring noise was heard, then
a loud clang; and the next moment the bell-
punch, as if it were alive, flew out of his hand,
out of the window, and was gone!

Chimborazo stood breathless with terror
for a few minutes, momentarily expecting
that the roof would fall in on his head, or the
floor blow up under his feet, or some appall-
ing catastrophe of some kind follow; but
nothing followed. Everything was quiet, and
there seemed to be nothing to do but go-to
bed; and so to bed he went, and slept, only
to dream that he was shot through the head
with a bell-punch, and died saying, “ Oh,
dear!”

The next morning, when Chimborazo
‘came downstairs, his father said, “ My boy, I
am. going to drive over to your grandfather's
farm this morning ; would you like to go
with me?”

A drive to the farm was-one of the
greatest pleasures Chimborazo had, so he
answered promptly, “Oh, dear /”

“Oh, very well!” said his father, looking

4
50 “OH, DEAR!”

much surprised. “ You need not go, my son,
if you do not want to. I will take Robert
instead.”

Poor Chimborazo! He had opened his
lips to say, “Thank you, papa. I should like
to go very much!” and, instead of these words,
out had popped, in his most doleful tone, the
now hated “Oh, dear!” He sat amazed ;
but was roused by his mother’s calling him
to breakfast.

“Come, Chimbo,” she said. “Here are
sausages and scrambled eggs: and you are
very fond of both of them. Which will you
have ?”

Chimborazo hastened to say, “Sausages,
please, mamma,’ — that is, he hastened to
try to say it; but all his mother heard was,
“Oh, dear!”

His father looked much displeased. “ Give
the boy some bread and water, wife,” he said
sternly. “If he cannot answer properly, he
must be taught. I have had enough of this
‘oh, dear!’ business.”

Poor Chimborazo! He saw plainly enough
“OH, DEAR!” 51

now what his punishment was to be; and the
thought of it made him tremble. He tried to
ask for some more bread, but only brought
out his “Oh, dear!” in such a lamentable tone
that his father ordered him to leave the room.
He went out into the garden, and there he
met John the gardener, carrying a basket of
rosy apples. Oh! how good they looked!

“Tam bringing some of the finest apples
up to the house, little master,” said John.
«¢ Will you have one to put in your pocket?”

“Oh, dear!” was all the poor boy could
say, though he wanted an apple, oh, so much!
And when John heard that he put the apple
back in his basket, muttering something about
ungrateful monkeys.

Poor Chimborazo! I will not give the
whole history of that miserable day,—a
miserable day it was from beginning to end.
He fared no better at dinner than at break-
fast ; for at the second “Oh, dear!” his father
sent him up to his room, “ to stay there until
he knew how to take what was given him,
and be thankful for it.” He knew well enough
52 “on, Dear!”

by this time; but he could not tell his father
so. He went to his room, and sat looking
out of the window, a hungry and miserable
boy.

In the afternoon his cousin Will came up
tosee him. “Why, Chimbo!” he cried. “Why
do you sit moping here in the house, when all
the boys are out? Come and play marbles
with me on the piazza. Ned and Harry are
out there waiting for you. Come on!”

“Oh, dear!” said Chimborazo.

“ What’s the matter?” asked Will.
“Haven't you any marbles? Never mind.
I'll give you half of mine, if you like. Come!”

“Oh, pear!” said Chimborazo.

“Well,” said Will, “if that’s all you have
to say when I offer you marbles, Ill keep
them myself. I suppose you expected me to
give you all of them, did you? I never saw
such a fellow!” and off he went in a huff.

“Well, Chimborazo,” said the fairy god-
mother “what do you think of ‘Oh, dear!’
now ?”
“on, DEAR!” 53

Chimborazo looked at her beseechingly,
but said nothing.
“Winding that forty-five times was not





“ Touching his lips with her wand.”

. enough for you yesterday, I thought I would
let you have all you wanted to-day, you see,”
said the fairy wickedly.

The boy still looked imploringly at her,
but did not open his lips.
“ Well, well,” she said at last, touching
{

ot “OH, DEAR

his lips with her wand, “I think that is enough

in the way of punishment, though I am sorry

you broke the bell-punch. Good-by! I don’t

believe you will say ‘Oh, dear!’ any more.”
And he did n't.
THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK, AND
THE LITTLE OLD MAN.

NCE upon a time there was a little old
man who lived in a well. He was a

very small little old man, and the well was
very deep; and the only reason why he lived
there was because he could not get out.
Indeed, what better reason could he have?
He had long white hair, and a long red
nose, and a long green coat ; and this was all
he had in the world, except a three-legged
stool, a large iron kettle, and a cook. There
was not room in the well for the cook ; so she
lived on the ground above, and cooked the
little old man’s dinner and supper in the
iron kettle, and lowered them down to
him in the bucket; and the little old man
sat on the three-legged stool, and ate what-
ever the cook sent down to him, with a
56 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK,
cheerful heart, if it was good; and so
things went on very pleasantly.

But one day it hap-
pened that the cook




could not find any-
thing for the old man’s
dinner. She looked
high, and she
looked low,
but nothing
could she find ;
soshewasvery
unhappy; for
the knew her
master would
fy be miserable

% if he had no
dinner. She
sat down by
the well, and

“ The old man thought it was raining.” wept bitterly ;
and her tears fell into the well so fast that
the little old man thought it was raining, and
put up ared cotton umbrella, which he bor-
AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 57

rowed for the occasion. You may wonder
where he borrowed it ; but I cannot tell you,
because I do not know.

Now, at that moment a traveller happened
to pass by, and when he saw the cook sitting
by the well and weeping, he stopped, and asked
her what was the matter. The cook told him
that she was weeping because she could not
find anything to cook for her master’s dinner.

“And who is your master?” asked the
traveller.

“ He is a little old man,” replied the cook ;
“and he lives down in this well.”

“Why does he live there?” inquired the
traveller.

“T do not know,” answered the cook; “I
never asked him.”

“He must be a singular person,” said the
traveller. “I should like to see him. What
does he look like ?”

But this the cook could not tell him; for
she had never seen the little old man, having
come to work for him after he had gone down
to live in the well.
58 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK, —

“Does he like to receive visitors?” asked
the traveller.

“Don’t know,” said the cook. “He has
never had any to receive since I have been
here.”

!”? said the other. “I think I will
go down and pay my respects to him. Will
you let me down in the bucket ?”

“ Humph

“‘ But suppose he should mistake you for his
dinner, and eat you up?” the cook suggested.

“Pooh!” he replied. “No fear of that ;
TI can take care of myself. And as for his
dinner,” he added, “get him some radishes.
There are plenty about here. I had nothing
but radishes for my dinner, and very good
they were, though rather biting. Let down
the bucket, please! I am all right.”

“What. are radishes?” the cook called
after him as he went down.

“ Long red things, stupid! with green leaves
to them!” he shouted; and then, in a mo-
ment, he found himself at the bottom of the
well.

The little old man was delighted to see him,
AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 59

and told him that he had lived down there
forty years, and had never had a visitor before
in all that time.

“Why do you live down here?” inquired
the traveller.

“Because I cannot get out,” replied the
little old man.

“But how did you get down here in the
first place ?”

“Really,” he said, “it is so long ago that
I hardly remember. My impression is, how-
ever, that I came down in the bucket.”

“Then why, in the name of common-sense,”
said the traveller, “don’t you go up in the
bucket ?”

The little old man sprang up from the
three-legged stool, and flung his arms around
the traveller's neck. ‘“ My dear friend!” he
cried rapturously. ‘ My precious benefactor !
Thank you a thousand times for those words!
IT assure you I never thought of it before! I
will go up at once. You will excuse me?”

“Certainly,” said the traveller. “Go up
first, and I will follow you.”
60 THE TRAVELLER, THE COOK,

‘The little old man got into the bucket, and
was drawn up to the top of the well. But,
alas! when the cook saw his long red nose

and his long green coat, she said to herself,



«
“This must be a radish! how lucky Tam!”
and seizing the poor little old man, she popped
him into the kettle without more ado. Then
she let the bucket down for the traveller, call-
ing to him to make haste, as she wanted to
send down her master’s dinner.
AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN. 61

Up came the traveller, and looking around,
asked where her master was.

“Where should he be,” said the cook, “ but
at the bottom of the well, where you left
him ?”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the
traveller. “He has just come up in the
bucket !”

“Oh!” cried the cook. “Oh! of ! ! 0-0-0-h!!!
was that my master? Why, I thought he was
a radish, and I have boiled him for his own
dinner ! ”

“T hope he will have a good appetite!”
said the traveller.

The cook was a good woman, and her grief
was so excessive that she fell into the kettle
and was boiled too.

Then the traveller, who had formerly been
an ogre by profession, said, “ Tis an ill wind
that blows nobody any good! My dinner was
very insufficient ;”’ and he ate both the little
old man and the cook, and proceeded on his
journey with a cheerful heart.








xml record header identifier oai:www.uflib.ufl.edu.ufdc:UF0008885000001datestamp 2008-11-12setSpec [UFDC_OAI_SET]metadata oai_dc:dc xmlns:oai_dc http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc xmlns:dc http:purl.orgdcelements1.1 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc.xsd dc:title The golden-breasted KooTooGolden-breasted KooToo and other storiesdc:creator Richards, Laura Elizabeth Howe, 1850-1943University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )John Wilson and Son ( Printer )dc:subject Wit and humor, Juvenile -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )Children's stories ( lcsh )Children's stories -- 1899 ( lcsh )Fantasy literature -- 1899 ( rbgenr )dc:description b Statement of Responsibility by Laura E. Richards.dc:publisher Little, Brown, and Companydc:date c1899dc:type Bookdc:format 61 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.dc:identifier http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/ufdc/?b=UF00088850&v=00001002236574 (ALEPH)02159142 (OCLC)ALH7050 (NOTIS)dc:source University of Floridadc:language English