In Story Land
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A beautiful rose tree grew in the garden. Every morning she smiled up at the golden sun. But one morning when the sun rose, he was surprised to see that his friend, the rose, drooped sadly. He sent one of his warm rays down to earth to find out what the matter was.
“Dear Rose,” said the bright sunbeam, “why do you droop and look so sad?”
“Ah, me!” sighed the rose, “I am so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating my leaves, and he will not crawl away.”
The sun felt very sorry for the rose. “I will not shine,” he said, “until Rose is happy.” So he hid behind a dark cloud.
The wind came hurrying along. “Father Sun,” he cried, “why are you not shining to-day?”
“Ah, me!” answered the sun, “dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. I will shine no more until Rose is happy.”
“I, too, am so sorry,” whispered the wind. “I will blow no more until Rose is happy.” So saying he dropped to the earth and was still.
A bird was surprised when the wind stopped.
“Mr. Wind,” he called, “why have you stopped blowing?”
“Ah, me!” sighed the wind. “Dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. So Sun will shine no more and I will blow no more until Rose is happy.”
“I, also, love Rose,” sang the bird; “and I will sing no more until Rose is happy.” He flew away silently to his nest in the oak tree.
“It is not night,” said the old tree; “why are you not flying and singing, little bird?”
“Ah, me!” chirped the bird. “Dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. So Sun will shine no more, Wind will blow no more, and I will sing no more until Rose is happy.”
“That is all very sad,” whispered the tree. “I shall drop no more acorns until Rose is happy.”
Soon the squirrel came to gather some nuts. But he could find very few.
“Dear Tree,” he chattered, “please drop down some acorns.”
“No,” answered the tree. “I cannot, now.”
“Why not?” asked the squirrel.
“Ah, me!” rustled the tree. “Dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. So Sun will shine no more, Wind will blow no more, Bird will sing no more, and I will drop no more acorns until Rose is happy again.”
“And I will work no more,” chirped the squirrel. “I will run away to my nest in the old hollow tree.”
On the way to his home the squirrel met Mrs. Brown Duck.
“Good morning, Mr. Squirrel,” quacked the duck. “Why are you not working this morning?”
“Ah, me!” replied the squirrel. “Dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. So Sun will shine no more, Wind will blow no more, Bird will sing no more, Oak Tree will drop no more acorns, and I will work no more till Rose is happy.”
“Then I will swim no more,” said Mrs. Brown Duck. And she waddled off to the barnyard. There she met Mrs. White Hen.
“Why do you look so sad, Mrs. Duck?” said the hen.
“Ah, me!” quacked the duck. “Dear Rose is so unhappy! An ugly worm is eating her leaves, and he will not crawl away. So Sun will shine no more, Wind will blow no more, Bird will sing no more, Oak Tree will drop no more acorns, Squirrel will work no more, and I will swim no more until Rose is happy again.”
“Indeed! Indeed!” cackled Mrs. White Hen. “Pray tell me how stopping your work will help Rose. If you wish Rose to be happy, you must do something for her. Come with me.”
Away hurried the hen and the duck until they came to the rose. The old hen asked no questions. She did not even take time to say “Good morning.” But she cocked her head firston one side, then on the other, searching through the leaves of the rosebush with her bright little eyes. Suddenly she darted forward. “Snap!” went her bill, and the worm was swallowed.
“There, Mrs. Duck,” clucked the hen, “see how I have helped Rose and at the same time got a nice breakfast for myself.”
At once the rose looked up toward the sun and smiled. Thereupon the sun began to shine.
“If I had only thought,” said the sun, “I might have burned that worm with my hot rays.”
“And I might have blown him away,” whistled the wind, springing up suddenly.
“If I had only thought,” sang the bird, “I might have had a nice fat worm for breakfast.”
“And so might I,” quacked the duck as she waddled away toward the pond.
The oak tree shook down a great shower of acorns, and the squirrel hastened to gather them. They, too, wished they had thought of some way to help Rose.
But the clever old white hen said nothing at all.
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The Sandman comes across the land,At evening, when the sun is low:Upon his back a bag of sand—His step is soft and low.I never hear his gentle tread,But when I bend my sleepy head,“The Sandman’s coming!” mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!I guess he’s old, with silver hair,He’s up so late! He has to goTo lots of children, everywhere,At evening, when the sun is low.His cloak is long, and green and old,With pretty dreams in every fold—His shoes are silken, mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!He glides across the sunset hill,To seek each little child, like me:Our all-day-tired eyes to fillWith sands of sleep, from slumber’s sea.I try my best awake to stay,But I am tired out with play;“I’ll never see him!” mother says,And mother tells the truth—always!—Marie Van Vorst
The Sandman comes across the land,At evening, when the sun is low:Upon his back a bag of sand—His step is soft and low.I never hear his gentle tread,But when I bend my sleepy head,“The Sandman’s coming!” mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!I guess he’s old, with silver hair,He’s up so late! He has to goTo lots of children, everywhere,At evening, when the sun is low.His cloak is long, and green and old,With pretty dreams in every fold—His shoes are silken, mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!He glides across the sunset hill,To seek each little child, like me:Our all-day-tired eyes to fillWith sands of sleep, from slumber’s sea.I try my best awake to stay,But I am tired out with play;“I’ll never see him!” mother says,And mother tells the truth—always!—Marie Van Vorst
The Sandman comes across the land,At evening, when the sun is low:Upon his back a bag of sand—His step is soft and low.I never hear his gentle tread,But when I bend my sleepy head,“The Sandman’s coming!” mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!
The Sandman comes across the land,
At evening, when the sun is low:
Upon his back a bag of sand—
His step is soft and low.
I never hear his gentle tread,
But when I bend my sleepy head,
“The Sandman’s coming!” mother says,
And mother tells the truth, always!
I guess he’s old, with silver hair,He’s up so late! He has to goTo lots of children, everywhere,At evening, when the sun is low.His cloak is long, and green and old,With pretty dreams in every fold—His shoes are silken, mother says,And mother tells the truth, always!
I guess he’s old, with silver hair,
He’s up so late! He has to go
To lots of children, everywhere,
At evening, when the sun is low.
His cloak is long, and green and old,
With pretty dreams in every fold—
His shoes are silken, mother says,
And mother tells the truth, always!
He glides across the sunset hill,To seek each little child, like me:Our all-day-tired eyes to fillWith sands of sleep, from slumber’s sea.I try my best awake to stay,But I am tired out with play;“I’ll never see him!” mother says,And mother tells the truth—always!
He glides across the sunset hill,
To seek each little child, like me:
Our all-day-tired eyes to fill
With sands of sleep, from slumber’s sea.
I try my best awake to stay,
But I am tired out with play;
“I’ll never see him!” mother says,
And mother tells the truth—always!
—Marie Van Vorst
—Marie Van Vorst
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Once upon a time a little boy named Billy Binks set out to seek his fortune. He traveled alone for many a weary mile, but at last he met a little gray pony.
“Where are you going, Billy Binks?” neighed the pony.
“I am going to seek my fortune,” said Billy Binks.
“May I go, too?”
“If I take you, will you help me win my fortune?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will carry you on my back and kick all your enemies with my hard hoofs.”
“Very well, you may come along.”
Then they went on a little farther and met a cow.
“Where are you going, Billy Binks?” mooed the cow.
“I am going to seek my fortune,” answered Billy Binks.
“May I go, too?”
“If I take you, will you help me win my fortune?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will moo, and toss your enemies on my sharp horns.”
“Very well, you may come.”
When they had walked on a little farther they met a dog.
“Where are you going, Billy Binks?” barked the dog.
“I am going to seek my fortune,” answered Billy Binks.
“May I go, too?”
“If I take you, will you help me win my fortune?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will bark, and bite your enemies with my sharp teeth.”
“Very well, you may come.”
After walking a little farther they met a cat.
“Where are you going, Billy Binks?” mewed the cat.
“I am going to seek my fortune,” answered Billy Binks.
“May I go, too?”
“If I take you, will you help me win my fortune?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will purr, and scratch your enemies with my sharp claws.”
“Very well, you may come.”
They continued their journey and presently met a raven.
“Where are you going, Billy Binks?” croaked the raven.
“I am going to seek my fortune.”
“May I go, too?”
“If I take you, will you help me win my fortune?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will croak, and peck your enemies’ eyes out with my sharp beak.”
“Very well, you may come.”
On and on they walked till at last they entered a deep, dark wood. All day they journeyed through this forest, which grew denser and darker as night came on.
“We are near a clearing in this wood,” croaked the raven, who had been soaring above the treetops. “Let us keep right on.”
Suddenly all were startled by a bright light, the brightest any of them had ever seen. It flashed out through the trees directly in front of them. It fairly dazzled and blinded them. Then it as suddenly disappeared, and left them standing terrified in the pitch-black darkness of the night.
Again the light flashed out, and again disappeared.
“What can it be?” asked Billy Binks, hoarsely, as soon as he could find his voice.
“Perhaps it is a lamp,” mewed the cat.
“No, it is too bright for a lamp,” answered Billy Binks.
“It might be a house on fire,” barked the dog.
“No, if it were, we could see the light allthe time; and besides, there is no house here. I have flown this way before,” answered the raven.
“It may be a lighthouse,” said Billy Binks.
“No,” replied the raven, “the sea is miles from here. You all keep still while I fly over the treetops and find out what it is.”
Billy Binks and his animal friends kept ever so quiet, while the raven flew up and quickly disappearedin the darkness. It seemed hours before he returned.
“Oh, my friends,” croaked the raven, alighting in their midst at last, “you never saw such a sight! There’s the most horrible, monstrous hob-goblin over there in the clearing. He has a nose as long as a broomstick—”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Billy Binks and his friends.
“—Eyes as big as saucers and as green as the sea—”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Billy Binks and his friends.
“—And a mouth big enough to swallow us all!”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” cried Billy Binks and his friends.
“He has a great fire blazing among some rocks. That is the light you saw. When he walks in front of it you cannot see the light. That is why you thought it disappeared.”
“I see! I see! I see!” said Billy Binks and his friends.
“He is busy melting gold, and he has piles of gold and jewels hidden in his cave—”
“Ah, ha!” laughed Billy Binks, as he climbed bravely upon his gray pony.
“His cave is full of nice plump field mice—”
“Mew! Mew!” cried the cat, as she scrambled up behind Billy Binks.
“In the bushes back of the cave live many rabbits—”
“Bow-wow!” barked the dog, as he bounded toward Billy Binks.
“Near the cave is a large green meadow, with the sweetest grass and the coolest brook in the world—”
“Moo! Moo!” lowed the cow, as she, too, hurried up beside Billy Binks.
“And there is a tall tree that will make a fine home for me,” finished the raven, as she flew over Billy Binks’s head.
“Come on, friends,” whispered Billy Binks, boldly. “It is time to win my fortune. Remember you have all promised to help me.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll help. And I think I see my fortune, too,” answered each of the animals, now as bold as Billy Binks.
Softly, quietly, and slowly they crept through the forest. Presently they came to the clearing.There stood the ugly, black hob-goblin, bending over his fire. His back was turned toward them.
“Now!” shouted Billy Binks, and they all rushed at the terrible monster.
The raven dashed into his face and pecked at his large green eyes.
The cat scratched great gashes in his long nose.
The dog bit him, and the horse kicked him.
The enraged cow rushed upon him with loweredhead, caught him on her horns, and tossed him as high as the treetops.
Then the cow began to bellow.
The dog began to howl.
The cat began to waul.
The raven began to caw.
The pony began to prance.
And Billy Binks began to shout with all his might.
Such a frightful din that old hob-goblin had never heard! He picked himself up from the sharp rocks where he had fallen, and dashed away with might and main through the forest. If he hasn’t stopped, he is running still.
“Ho, ho!” cried Billy Binks, springing from the gray pony and running to the mouth of the cave. “This heap of gold and this pile of jewels will do for my fortune. If you carry them safely home for me, Pony, I will build you a beautiful stable, and you shall have a full crib of oats before you all the rest of your life. That will be your fortune.”
“This cave, full of good, plump mice, is my fortune,” called the cat, as she pounced on the first unlucky mouse.
“All these rabbits shall be my fortune,” barked the dog, as he set off in hot haste after a fleeing bunny.
“And this green meadow is my fortune,”mooed the cow, as she began to crop the sweet grass.
“Who could have a better fortune than this?” croaked the raven, flying to the top of a tall tree.
So Billy Binks said “Good-by” to his friends, and left them each with his fortune. He quickly bagged the gold and jewels, threw them across the pony’s back, and mounting, hurried off homeward.
The pony smelled oats all the way, while Billy Binks saw castles and lands on all sides.