Two frogs fell into a deep pit, and though they tried very hard they could not hop out. Their comrades peered down from the top and croaked in sympathy.
“We feel for you,” they shouted, “ but there’s no way you can get out from there!”
On hearing this, one of the frogs lost heart, and died of fear. The other frog was deaf. He thought his comrades were shouting encouragement. Emboldened by their faith in him, he gathered up all his reserves of energy in one great jump that landed him out of the pit.
Whining & Dining
Mosquito spotted Iguana basking near the pond. She flew up to him and said, “Hey, Iguana, I just saw a farmer digging up potatoes that were as big as me!” Iguana was annoyed at being disturbed and snapped, “What’s a mosquito compared to a potato? I’d rather be deaf than hear such nonsense!” And he stuck twigs in his ears and stomped off. When Python saw Iguana pass by, he said a friendly ‘Hello’. Iguana seemed not to hear. “Iguana is angry,” thought Python. “I better hide,” and quickly slithered into Rabbit’s hole.
Rabbit was so startled she jumped out of her burrow and hared away. Crow saw her and cawed loudly in alarm. Monkey heard Crow and leaped from branch to branch, shrieking disaster. Crack! A branch broke under Monkey’s weight. It fell into Owl’s nest, crushing one of her babies. When Owl returned, she was overcome by sorrow and stopped hooting. The Sun did not rise the next day as he depended on Owl’s wake-up call.
Lion summoned all the animals. He asked Owl why she hadn’t woken the Sun.
“Monkey killed my owlet,” she said sadly. “I am in no mood to awaken the Sun.”
When Monkey was questioned, the entire chain of events was revealed. It was Iguana who had caused all the trouble! Iguana, of course, didn’t hear a thing because he still had twigs in his ears. Lion pulled them out, chuckling.
“Now, Iguana, what’s all this? Python says you snubbed him this morning.”
“What! I never…I never even heard him!”stuttered Iguana.“It was Mosquito! She narrated a tall tale that spoiled my whole morning!”
When Owl heard they’d found the culprit, she let out a loud hoot. The Sun rose and the animals cheered.
“That’s better!” said Lion. “But where is Mosquito? She must be punished!” All the animals looked around eagerly. But Mosquito was nowhere to be found. She had been eavesdropping all the while and felt so wretched, she dared not show her face. To this day, she suffers a guilty conscience. She buzzes and whines in people’s ears, even as she dines on their blood: “Zeeee, zeeee…Is everyone still angry with me?”
And an irritated slap is all she gets for an answer!
Safety in Numbers
A fly was flying around a web but it seemed reluctant to land, so finally the resident spider poked its head out and invited it in.
“No, thank you,” said the fly. “I was looking for other flies but I don’t see any. I only feel safe in a crowd.”
The fly streaked away. Presently, it came across a large number of flies sitting on a large piece of paper.
“Don’t land!” warned a bee flying past. “ It’s flypaper. All those flies are stuck to it!”
“What nonsense,” retorted the fly. “They’re enjoying themselves! See they’re dancing!!”
“They’re not dancing! They’re trying to free themselves!!” yelled the bee, but the fly wasn’t listening.
It settled on the flypaper, and got stuck.
Moral: ‘Safety in Numbers’ may be a good slogan, but it’s not always true.
Wrinkled Winner
A goat, an ass and a camel were walking down a road when they came upon a bundle of hay that had fallen from a cart.
“This hay looks delicious,” said the goat, “but it’s not enough for all three of us. Let the oldest among us have it.”
“Then it should go to me,” said the ass. “Do you know, I was in Delhi, when Nadir Shah entered it in triumph in 1739...that makes me at least 250 years old.”
“A child compared to me,” snorted the goat. “I was one of the animals that was driven from Delhi to Daulatabad when that madman, Sultan Muhammad bin Tughlaq shifted his capital....”
They suddenly noticed that the camel was calmly nibbling at the straw.
“What are you doing!” shouted the goat.
“Why, didn’t you say the oldest should have it?” said the camel. “The two of you may be centuries old but look at me...look at my knobby joints and wrinkled skin.....could either of you be older than me?”
And before the other two could think of a reply, the camel picked up the bundle of hay and walked away.
Donkey who didn't help
A dog and a donkey were going to the market with their master. It was a very long walk across a mountainous path. At noon, the master ate the little food he had brought along, unloaded the donkey, and settled down under a tree for a nap. The donkey began to eat the grass growing there, but there was nothing for the dog to eat.
“There are some loaves among the load you were carrying,” said the dog to the donkey. “Let’s take one and share it between ourselves.”
“Wait till the master gets up!” said the donkey, tersely. “He’ll feed you then.”
Just then a ravenous wolf came into view.
“Help me, help me, dog!” pleaded the donkey, quavering in fear.
“I’m so hungry I don’t have the strength to do anything,” replied the dog. “Wait till the master gets up. He’ll certainly help you.”
—Jean de La Fontaine
The tall, bull caribou stopped to rest on high knoll above the arctic tundra that he had just fled from. He had been driven in a furious rage racing from the army of mosquitoes and flies which tortured him. He began to breathe easier and to eat moss growing up on top of the knoll. His small herd of 15 were on their way to join the northwest Alaskan herd. Soon the rest of the herd was peacefully eating beside him. They ate for a few minutes until the pests arrived. The caribou ran for a quarter of a mile before coming to stop for another rest. This time instead of eating all the caribou laid down to sleep. The next morning, the caribou woke up and resumed their quest for the northwest Alaskan herd of 200,000. Later that day the caribou were crossing a river and they found that all the pests were gone! Two days later they found the large northwest herd and peacefully rested with them.
Narwhal
The large pod of about 75 narwhals milled around the bay in the summer feeding grounds. Sounds of chirps, whistles, clicks and sometimes screams filled the the warm current swishing in what seemed like mass confusion. But there was no confusion at all in this pod, the whales were communicating with each other very well. The young whales played with little bits of seaweed and playfully fought each other while their mothers kept a close eye on them. The large bulls leisurely crossed tusks and dove for food. Meanwhile 20 deadly enemies lined up across the mouth of the bay, locking in on the narwhals. Huge dorsal fins broke the surface and the killers moved in. Suddenly the blood curdling sound of an Orca filled the water and with a cry all the orcas rushed upon the unsuspecting narwhals. The narwhals were momentarily paralyzed with fear. An old bull began to sprint towards shallow water. All the whales followed him while the narwhals held perfectly still. The orca whales echo location was thrown off by the breakers on the shore. The hungry orcas milled around for 2 hours waiting to hear a narwhal. From across the bay, a family of narwhals traveled into the range of the 20 hungry orcas. The orca left the one pod of narwhal and went after the family that had just arrived in the bay. They had no chance of escape. They were rammed head-on and hit by muscular tails, never to dive again.
Wolverine
The young wolverine opened it’s eyes after sleeping well for six hours to discover that the air was ten degrees below zero. After stretching and arching his back, he scampered out of his den into the crisp morning air to search for food. He was always hungry. He went to his usual food stash, a tree stump about 5 feet away from the opening of his den. In his hunger the wolverine failed to notice the difference in his food stash. The two rabbits he had killed the day before were moved from inside the tree stump to the edge of the tree stump. As the wolverine ran up to his rabbits, a loud snap filled the air. The wolverine’s foot was caught in a trap. He felt excruciating pain and began to thrashing around, tugging to free his foot. Finally, he pulled himself free from the trap leaving part of his foot behind. At first he wondered what had happened. His foot was bleeding and hurting more than it had ever hurt before. He howled and whimpered as he went back into his den to nurse his wound. It took three days before the wolverine could walk out of his den and find some vegetation to eat. After a couple of months, the wolverines partially amputated foot healed and he was able to hunt again. But, for the rest of his life the wolverine carried around the remembrance of that day that he was not alert.
Alex alligator arrived at Allison Arthur's apple farm in April, when the apple trees were covered with blossoms.
"Whatever am I to do with an alligator?" Allison asked.
Inside the box, Alex yawned. Alex stuck his legs through the holes at the bottom of the box and ambled into the house in search of dinner.
"Oh no you don't!" cried Allison. "You cannot live in the house. You are to stay in the stream behind the apple orchard."
Allison put Alex in the small stream. Then Allison put a strong fence around the stream so Alex did not try to eat Mrs. Chory's chickens.
Alex liked the stream and his pen. He especially liked the steaks Allison gave him every morning and evening.
One day in August a red apple fell off a tree and rolled under the fence and into Alex's pen. Alex sniffed it a bit and then took a bite.
It was the most delicious thing Alex had ever eaten. Alex slipped under the fence and ambled into the apple orchard. Alex found a line of baskets sitting under a tree. Alex ate all the apples in the baskets. Then he wandered under another tree and ate all the apples in the baskets he found there. He was very happy. And very full. He went back into his cage.
Allison came by later with his steak. Alex sniffed at it, but he was not very hungry.
"Do you know what someone did Alex?" asked Allison. Alex yawned. "Someone stole all my apples. They knocked over the baskets and stole the apples. If it happens again, I'm calling the police."
That night, Alex had a very pleasant dream about apples. After his steak the next morning, Alex slipped under the fence and out into the orchard. There were a bunch of people climbing up and down ladders with baskets. Alex watched for a few moments. Then he realized that when the people came down the ladders, their baskets were full of apples.
Alex wandered over to the closest ladder. A small girl descended with a basket full of apples. Alex grinned at her. The little girl screamed and dropped the basket. She ran away, yelling for her mother. Alex stuck his head in the basket and began eating apples. He heard voices coming towards him.
"Now April, you know what I've said about fibbing. There are no alligators in this orchard." said April's mother. Alex pulled his head out of the basket and grinned at April's mother.
"Ahhhh!" she screamed. April and her mother ran away as fast as they could.
Alex walked over to another tree. A man was climbing down the ladder. He stepped on Alex's back. Alex grunted and tried to walk away. The man looked down at Alex and yelped. The man dropped his basket and ran toward the house. Alex ate all the apples in his basket.
Just then, Allison came running into the orchard.
"Alex!" she yelled. Alex took one look at Allison and bolted back into his pen. Allison followed him.
"So you're the one who ate all my apples." she said. "I'd better fix your cage."
Once Alex's cage was fixed, he could no longer go into the apple orchard. Alex stared longingly at the trees full of apples.
At dinner time, Allison brought Alex a steak as usual.
"You are a bad boy, Ales," she said. "But I can't blame you for liking apples. I brought you a surprise."
Allison went outside the cage, and picked up a basket. It was full of apples! Alex ate all the apples before he ate his steak.
Allison laughed. "I'll bring you apples every night Alex," she said. That is exactly what Allison did.
Bakery Bear
A Tongue Twister Tale
by
S. E. Schlosser
Brenda was busy baking a batch of blueberry muffins in the kitchen of Butler's Bakery when the bell rang.
"Be with you in a bit," Brenda called, brushing her blond braid over her shoulder.
Brenda put the blueberry muffins into the oven and bustled into the store. A big brown bear stood with his paws on the counter.
"Grumph," said the big brown bear.
"Aaaaa!" said Brenda Butler.
Brenda ran out through the back door to get Bill Boyle, the policeman.
"Bill, there is a big brown bear in the bakery!" Brenda cried.
"A bear?" Bill asked.
Bill followed Brenda into the bakery. The bear was busy eating blintz's and a bunch of bagels. It looked at Bill Boyle and grunted bad-temperedly.
"Here bear. Nice bear," Bill said nervously.
The bear gave Bill a baleful grin. Bill backed away. The bear ambled toward Bill. Bill ran.
"Oh boy," Brenda babbled and fled from the store.
"I'd better call Barney," Bill told Brenda.
Barney Blake was the local dogcatcher for the town of Bradley. Barney drove up in his big blue van and hopped out.
"Where's the bear?" Barney asked Brenda.
"It's in the bakery," Brenda said.
Barney took a big net and went into the bakery. Brenda heard a bang. Grabbing a broom from the closet, Brenda rushed into the store. Barney was standing on a bench, waving his arms and yelling "Shoo!" at the bear. The bear was biting Barney's black boots hungrily.
Brenda beat the bear with the broom. "Back off, you big bully," Brenda shouted.
When the bear bit the broom, Barney jumped off the bench and ran out of the bakery. Brenda followed.
"What happened to your net?" asked Brenda breathlessly.
"The bear broke it," said Barney.
A wave off smoke came billowing out the back door of the bakery.
"My blueberry muffins are burning!" cried Brenda. She raced into the kitchen.
As Brenda removed the burnt blueberry muffins from the oven, the bear came into the kitchen.
"Shoo you bumbling brute," Brenda said to it. "You are bad for business. You made me burn my muffins."
Brenda threw a blueberry muffin at the bear. The bear ate the muffin and went back into the store.
"Is it gone?" asked Bill, as he and Barney came cautiously into the kitchen.
"The bear is in the store," said Brenda. "I have a plan."
Brenda sent Bill to get some honeycomb and had Barney back his van behind the bakery. Meanwhile, Brenda beat up a batch of buttermilk biscuits. Then she mixed the honey from the honeycomb into the batter. Soon, the kitchen was bursting with the smell of honey buttermilk biscuits.
The loud banging noises the bear was making in the bakery store ceased abruptly as the bear smelled the honey. Brenda carried the big batch of biscuits out to the van. Bill opened the back door. The breeze blew the smell of the honey-buttermilk biscuits into the bakery. The bear nudged open the swinging door of the bakery and ambled into the kitchen. He knocked over the big brown bowl and grumbled when he found no honey.
Then the bear sniffed his way out the back door. Brenda had placed the basket of biscuits at the back of Barney's van. The bear bounded up the ramp and Barney banged the door shut. Brenda and Bill cheered.
"I will take the bear back to the forest and let him out," said Barney.
While Barney and the bear drove away in the blue van, Brenda and Bill bustled back into the bakery to clean up.
Heron and the Hummingbird
A Native American Myth (Hitchiti Tribe) retold by S. E. Schlosser Heron and Hummingbird were very good friends, even though one was tall and gangly and awkward and one was small and sleek and fast. They both loved to eat fish. The Hummingbird preferred small fish like minnows and Heron liked the large ones. One day, Hummingbird said to his friend: "I am not sure there are enough fish in the world for both of our kind to eat. Why don't we have a race to see which of us should own the fish?" Heron thought that was a very good idea. They decided that they would race for four days. The finish line was an old dead tree next to a far-away river. Whichever of them sat on top of the tree first on the fourth day of the race would own all the fish in the world. They started out the next morning. The Hummingbird zipped along, flying around and around the Heron, who was moving steadily forward, flapping his giant wings. Then Hummingbird would be distracted by the pretty flowers along the way. He would flit from one to the other, tasting the nectar. When Hummingbird noticed that Heron was ahead of him, he hurried to catch up with him, zooming ahead as fast as he could, and leaving Heron far behind. Heron just kept flying steadily forward, flapping his giant wings. Hummingbird was tired from all his flitting. When it got dark, he decided to rest. He found a nice spot to perch and slept all night long. But Heron just kept flying steadily forward all night long, flapping his giant wings. When Hummingbird woke in the morning, Heron was far ahead. Hummingbird had to fly as fast as he could to catch up. He zoomed past the big, awkward Heron and kept going until Heron had disappeared behind him. Then Hummingbird noticed some pretty flowers nearby. He zip-zipped over to them and tasted their nectar. He was enjoying the pretty scenery and didn't notice Heron flap-flapping passed him with his great wings. Hummingbird finally remembered that he was racing with Heron, and flew as fast as he could to catch up with the big, awkward bird. Then he zipped along, flying around and around the Heron, who kept moving steadily forward, flapping his giant wings. For two more days, the Hummingbird and the Heron raced toward the far-distant riverbank with the dead tree that was the finish line. Hummingbird had a marvelous time sipping nectar and flitting among the flowers and resting himself at night. Heron stoically kept up a steady flap-flap-flapping of his giant wings, propelling himself forward through the air all day and all night. Hummingbird woke from his sleep the morning of the fourth day, refreshed and invigorated. He flew zip-zip toward the riverbank with its dead tree. When it came into view, he saw Heron perched at the top of the tree! Heron had won the race by flying straight and steady through the night while Hummingbird slept. So from that day forward, the Heron has owned all the fish in the rivers and lakes, and the Hummingbird has sipped from the nectar of the many flowers which he enjoyed so much during the race.
Mrs. Chory's Chickens
A Tongue Twister Tale by S. E. Schlosser "Chick, chick, chick," called Carol Chory as she chucked corn onto the ground. Chickens popped out of the hen house and scurried into the yard. Charlie Chicken strutted to Carol Chory's side.
"Something new, Charlie," cried Carol, "Here is some caramel corn." She gave Charlie a handful. Charlie Chicken scratched at the caramel corn, then took a chunk and swallowed quickly. Carol Chory chuckled and went inside.
Beside Charlie, a hen began to choke on the caramel corn. She flapped about the coop in a frenzy. Soon chickens were choking and flapping all over the chicken coop. Charlie swallowed another chunk of caramel corn. The corn got caught in his throat. Charlie Chicken choked and flapped out of the coop and into Cobb street.
Charlie Chicken bumped blindly into Karl Kramer's cart full of chocolate-covered cherries and flopped inside. To Karl's consternation, the cart began to tilt. Suddenly the cart full of chocolate-covered cherries began rolling down Cobb Hill. Karl gave a shout and chased the cart. Charlie Chicken choked and flapped among the chocolate-covered cherries.
Kristel Cramdon screamed when she saw Karl's cart full of chocolate-covered cherries careening down Cobb Hill with Charlie Chicken's white wings flapping frantically at the front.
"Look out!" called Karl.
As the cart rolled past Kristel, a loose piece of board hooked into her cream-colored coulats and ripped them right off. Kristel gasped and tried to cover her polka-dotted bloomers, just as Karl Kramer crashed into her.
The cart continued its calamitous path down the hill, cream-colored coulats flapping at the rear and Charlie Chicken choking and flapping at the front. It cruised under the ladder on which Ken stood cleaning his chimney. The ladder collapsed and Ken landed face-first among the cartons of chocolate-covered cherries.
Charlie Chicken flapped frantically in fright as Ken gave muffled cries from underneath the cherries. Kristel Cramdon's cream-colored coulats fluttered in the wind and the cart full of chocolate-covered cherries continued to roll down Cobb Hill toward the center of Coon Falls. Policeman Chad Charles leapt into Chin's China Shoppe to avoid the cart. He crashed into Chin and they fell to the floor, crushing most of Chin's china.
The cart took a short cut through Carla Cutler's courtyard and caught her laundry line, full of frilly pink underwear, on one of its upward planks. Kris Kringle, Carla Cutler's charcoal-colored miniature collie jumped aboard the cart when he smelled the chocolate-covered cherries.
Kris Kringle took a bite out of Ken's nose before discovering it wasn't a chocolate-covered cherry. Ken clouted Kris Kringle and blotted his nose with Carla Cutler's pink underwear. In the front of the cart, Charlie Chicken continued choking and flapping as the cart cruised into Cobb Court at the center of Coon Falls and crashed into Cami's Custard Stand.
Kris Kringle landed in a vat of chocolate custard. Ken splashed into the Coon Court fountain, as the chocolate-covered cherries cascaded all over the square. Carla Cutler's frilly pink underwear showered upon Cami's customers and Charlie Chicken crashed onto the ground. The caramel corn came flying out of Charlie's throat and rolled into a storm grate. Charlie Chicken was annoyed by the rucus. He ruffled his feathers and went home. Charlie strutted past Cami's Custard Stand, where Cami was shouting at Ken about her underwear-strewn customers. He strolled passed the chocolate-covered Kris Kringle, who was licking custard off of his charcoal-colored fur. He went by a red-faced Carla Cutler, on her way to collect her collie and her frilly pink underwear. He flapped around Chin's China Shoppe where Chin was chucking china at Policeman Charles. Finally, he edged around the polka-dotted-bloomer clad Kristel Cramdon, who was clobbering Karl Kramer with her handbag and strutted into his yard.
Mrs. Chory's chickens had flopped in feathered heaps all over the yard, gasping heavily. The caramel corn lay uneaten on the ground. Carol Chory came out of the house. "How did you like the caramel corn, Charlie?" she asked. Charlie Chicken gave an indignant sqwauk and marched back into the chicken coop.
Mrs. Peter's Pens
A Tongue Twister Tale
by
S. E. Schlosser
"Oh pooh," said Mrs. Polly Peters to her pet parrot Petey. "Where did I put that pen?"
"Petey's pens," said Petey Peters, bobbing his green head up and down inside his cage.
Mrs. Peters started looking for her pen. She crept under the desk, until only her pink penny-loafers were showing.
"The pen is not under here!" she said. When Mrs. Peters crawled back out, she was all dusty.
Next, Mrs. Peters crawled around the pink rug, looking for her pen. Her nose was close to the floor, because she had forgotten to put on her glasses. She looked like a pink-and-purple puppy dog.
Petey bobbed up and down excitedly in his cage. He wanted to play the new game too.
Mrs. Peters looked inside all the flowerpots on the windowsill. But she still could not find her pen.
"I have misplaced four pens this past week," Mrs. Peters said with a frown. "This is a most maddening mystery."
Mrs. Peters was a poet. She wrote poems for Petunia Press. She used her pink and purple pens every day. Mrs. Peters had no pink and purple pens left, so she put on her hat and went to Patsy's Odds 'N Ends to purchase some pens.
Mrs. Peters told Patsy her problem. Patsy sold Mrs. Peters a purple pen holder in which to put her pens.
"This will put an end to misplaced pens," said Mrs. Peters.
Mrs. Peters placed the purple pen holder on her desk and put her pink and purple pens inside it. The next morning, they were gone!
"This is perfectly preposterous!" cried Mrs. Peters.
Petey Peters peered out of his cage.
"Petey's pens," Petey remarked, blinking his brown eyes at her.
"Petey Peters," said Mrs. Peters. "Someone is stealing my pens."
"Petey's pens," agreed Petey Peters, bobbing his green head up and down.
"We must catch the thief," Mrs. Peters exclaimed.
Mrs. Peters went to Patsy's to buy more pink and purple pens. She also purchased a Polaroid camera. When Mrs. Peters got home, she placed the pink and purple pens inside the purple pen holder. Then, she covered Petey Peters' cage with a pink and purple polka-dotted cover and put herself to bed.
At midnight, Mrs. Peters snuck out of bed with her newly purchased Polaroid. She perched on a purple cushion in the doorway.
Soon, Mrs. Peters heard a plink. Then Mrs. Peter's heard a flapping sound and a thump. "I caught you red handed!" shouted Mrs. Peters, snapping a picture on her Polaroid. There came a clatter, a flapping sound, and another plink.
Mrs. Peters turned on the light. A purple pen lay on the floor! The pink and purple polka-dotted cover on Petey's cage was crooked. A pair of brown eyes peered out at her.
Mrs. Peters watched the Polaroid picture develop. Soon she saw Petey Peters, her pet parrot, pulling a purple pen out of the purple pen holder!
"Petey Peters have you been taking my pens?"demanded Mrs. Peters, pulling the pink and purple polka-dotted cover off of his cage.
Petey peered out at her.
"Petey's pens."
Mrs. Peters pulled up the papers from the bottom of Petey's cage. Underneath the papers, she found all of her pink and purple pens! Mrs. Peters was pretty peeved with Petey. She purchased a new cage with a door that Petey could not open. Then Mrs.Peters took away all of Petey's pens.
Except for one purple and pink striped pen.
Now, whenever Mrs. Polly Peters takes out her pink and purple pens to write poems for Petunia Press, Petey Peters pulls out his favorite pen so he can play too.
Top of Form
Rainbow Crow
(Lenni Lenape Tribe)
retold by
S. E. Schlosser
It was so cold. Snow fell constantly, and ice formed over all the waters. The animals had never seen snow before. At first, it was a novelty, something to play in. But the cold increased tenfold, and they began to worry. The little animals were being buried in the snow drifts and the larger animals could hardly walk because the snow was so deep. Soon, all would perish if something were not done.
"We must send a messenger to Kijiamuh Ka'ong, the Creator Who Creates By Thinking What Will Be," said Wise Owl. "We must ask him to think the world warm again so that Spirit Snow will leave us in peace."
The animals were pleased with this plan. They began to debate among themselves, trying to decide who to send up to the Creator. Wise Owl could not see well during the daylight, so he could not go. Coyote was easily distracted and like playing tricks, so he could not be trusted. Turtle was steady and stable, but he crawled too slowly. Finally, Rainbow Crow, the most beautiful of all the birds with shimmering feathers of rainbow hues and an enchanting singing voice, was chosen to go to Kijiamuh Ka'ong.
It was an arduous journey, three days up and up into the heavens, passed the trees and clouds, beyond the sun and the moon, and even above all the stars. He was buffeted by winds and had no place to rest, but he carried bravely on until he reached Heaven. When Rainbow Crow reached the Holy Place, he called out to the Creator, but received no answer. The Creator was too busy thinking up what would be to notice even the most beautiful of birds. So Rainbow Crow began to sing his most beautiful song.
The Creator was drawn from his thoughts by the lovely sound, and came to see which bird was making it. He greeted Rainbow Crow kindly and asked what gift he could give the noble bird in exchange for his song. Rainbow Crow asked the Creator to un-think the snow, so that the animals of Earth would not be buried and freeze to death. But the Creator told Rainbow Crow that the snow and the ice had spirits of their own and could not be destroyed.
"What shall we do then?" asked the Rainbow Crow. "We will all freeze or smother under the snow."
"You will not freeze," the Creator reassured him, "For I will think of Fire, something that will warm all creatures during the cold times."
The Creator stuck a stick into the blazing hot sun. The end blazed with a bright, glowing fire which burned brightly and gave off heat. "This is Fire," he told Rainbow Crow, handing him the cool end of the stick. "You must hurry to Earth as fast as you can fly before the stick burns up."
Rainbow Crow nodded his thanks to the Creator and flew as fast as he could go. It was a three-day trip to Heaven, and he was worried that the Fire would burn out before he reached the Earth. The stick was large and heavy, but the fire kept Rainbow Crow warm as he descended from Heaven down to the bright path of the stars. Then the Fire grew hot as it came closer to Rainbow Crows feathers. As he flew passed the Sun, his tail caught on fire, turning the shimmering beautiful feathers black. By the time he flew passed the Moon, his whole body was black with soot from the hot Fire. When he plunged into the Sky and flew through the clouds, the smoke got into his throat, strangling his beautiful singing voice.
By the time Rainbow Crow landed among the freezing-cold animals of Earth, he was black as tar and could only Caw instead of sing. He delivered the fire to the animals, and they melted the snow and warmed themselves, rescuing the littlest animals from the snow drifts where they lay buried.
It was a time of rejoicing, for Tindeh - Fire - had come to Earth. But Rainbow Crow sat apart, saddened by his dull, ugly feathers and his rasping voice. Then he felt the touch of wind on his face. He looked up and saw the Creator Who Creates By Thinking What Will Be walking toward him.
"Do not be sad, Rainbow Crow," the Creator said. "All animals will honor you for the sacrifice you made for them. And when the people come, they will not hunt you, for I have made your flesh taste of smoke so that it is no good to eat and your black feathers and hoarse voice will prevent man from putting you into a cage to sing for him. You will be free."
Then the Creator pointed to Rainbow Crow's black feathers. Before his eyes, Rainbow Crow saw the dull feathers become shiny and inside each one, he could see all the colors of the rainbow. "This will remind everyone who sees you of the service you have been to your people," he said, "and the sacrifice you made that saved them all."
And so shall it ever be.
Three Billy Goats Gruff
A Norwegian Folktale retold by S. E. Schlosser
Snippity-snip, snap and swill,
The tale begins upon a hill… The air was crisp and cool. The sky was an endless blue. The green meadow grass swayed in a gentle breeze. And Big Billy Goat Gruff was bored. "I am tired of eating in the same old field every day," he told his brothers. "I want to eat in the meadow on the far side of the stream. "Ohhh no, Big Billy Goat," said little brother. "We cannot walk through the stream for it is too deep and too fast. We would be swept away!" "And we cannot walk over the bridge," said middle brother, "because there is a big troll under the bridge who will gobble us up if we try to cross it." "I am not afraid of the troll," said Big Billy Goat Gruff, tossing his bold head with the huge round horns. He stamped the ground - once, twice, thrice - with his big hooves. "Let him try to eat me! We shall see who wins the fight!" "But we won't be there to see," said Middle Billy Goat Gruff practically, "Because Little Billy Goat Gruff and I will have been eaten." "Not so!" cried Big Billy Goat Gruff, dancing around the meadow excitedly, his large hooves making holes in the mossy turf under his feet. "I have a plan!" The three billy goats put their heads together and whispered for a long time. Finally they broke the huddle and all three of them trotted across the wide meadow to the narrow bridge that crossed the fast-flowing, deep stream in the ravine dividing their meadow and the one on the other side. Taking a deep breath for courage, Little Billy Goat Gruff stepped onto the rough wooden bridge. Trip-trap, trip-trap. His little hooves made the bridge spring up and down a little as he moved carefully forward. A pair of huge round eyes peered out from the darkness under the bridge. "Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?" rumbled the troll. A big hairy arm reached out from the darkness and huge fingers gripped the rail beside Little Billy Goat Gruff. "It's just me," said Little Billy Goat Gruff in a very small voice. "I am the teeny-tiniest Billy Goat Gruff, all skin and bones, going over to the meadow to make myself fat." A second huge hand joined the first on the rail. "I am coming to eat you," said the troll, his voice rumbling so deep that it shook the whole bridge. "Eat me?" asked Little Billy Goat Gruff, shaking from head to toe, "I am too little. Not even worth a bite for a big troll like you. You should wait for my middle brother to come. He is much bigger than me." This made sense to the troll. Why go to all that bother for one small bite of Billy Goat when a bigger Billy Goat was on its way? "Gerroff my bridge then," the troll roared, slipping back down into the darkness underneath. "And don't come back here until you are big and fat!" "Yes sir," said Little Billy Goat Gruff, trotting off the far side of the bridge in triumph and heading up into the wide-green meadow above. The plan was working! When Little Billy Goat Gruff reached the top of the hill, Middle Billy Goat Gruff stepped onto the rough wooden bridge. Trap-rap, trap-rap. His medium-sized hooves made the boards of the bridge spring and sway under his weight as he moved forward. A pair of huge round eyes peered out from the darkness under the bridge. "Who's that trap-rapping over my bridge?" grumbled the troll loudly. Hairy arms reached out from the darkness and huge fingers gripped the rail beside Middle Billy Goat Gruff. "It's me," said Middle Billy Goat Gruff in a very medium-sized voice. "I am the Middle Billy Goat Gruff, all skin and bones from the winter. I am going over to the meadow to make myself fat." Two blazing troll eyes over a long, twisted nose glared at him through the rails of the bridge. "I am coming to eat you," said the troll, his voice rumbling so deep that it shook the whole bridge. "Eat me?" asked Middle Billy Goat Gruff with a laugh. "Why do you want to eat me? I am all skinny from the winter. Barely two bites for a big troll like you. And my bones will get stuck in your throat and make it feel all scratchy and horrible. You should wait for my big brother to come. He is huge! Much bigger than me." This made good sense to the troll. Why go to all that bother for one bony, medium sized Billy Goat when a bigger Billy Goat was on its way? "Gerroff my bridge then," the troll roared, slipping back down into the darkness underneath. "And don't come back here until you are big and fat!" "I'm off then," said Middle Billy Goat Gruff, trotting to the far side of the bridge in triumph. He headed up to the wide-green meadow above and joined Little Billy Goat Gruff at the top of the hill. Then both of the brothers peered down at the bridge to see what Big Billy Goat Gruff was going to do. As they watched, Big Billy Goat Gruff stepped onto the rough wooden bridge. Stomp-tromp, stomp-tromp. His huge hooves made the boards bend and give protesting creaks under his massive weight as he moved forward. A pair of huge round eyes peered out from the darkness under the bridge. "Who's that stomp-tromping over my bridge?" roared the troll. He sprang out onto the top of the bridge in a single leap. Big Billy Goat Gruff narrowed his eyes at the large, hairy troll. "It's me," he said, lowering his huge head so the curved horns were pointed at the troll. Then he charged. Wham! Big Billy Goat Gruff slammed into the troll. "Arrrgh!" screamed the troll as it was lifted clean off its feet and thrown way, way, way up into the air. The troll landed head down on the bridge, making it shake and rattle from top to bottom. Big Billy Goat Gruff stomped and tromped on the troll with his huge hooves until the troll was smashed flat on the wood boards. Then he tossed him into the raging stream with his huge horns and the troll sailed down the ravine and out of sight, never to be seen again in those parts. And Big Billy Goat Gruff went up the hill to join his brothers in the meadow. All summer long they ate the lovely green grass in both meadows until they all grew quite fat. And they walked back and forth over the troll-free bridge whenever they wanted. Snippity-snip, snap and snout,
This little tale has been told out!
Why Dogs Chase Cats
A Virginia Folktale
retold by
S.E. Schlosser
Once long ago, Dog was married to Cat. They were happy together, but every night when Dog came home from work, Cat said she was too sick to make him dinner. Dog was patient with this talk for a while, but he soon got mighty tired of fixing dinner for them both after a hard day's work. After all, Cat just stayed home all day long.
One day, Dog told Cat he was going to work, but instead he hid in the cupboard and watched Cat to see if she really was sick. As soon as Cat thought Dog had left, she started playing games with Kitten. They laughed and ran about. Cat wasn't the least bit sick.
Dog jumped out of the cupboard. When Cat saw him, she stuck a marble in her cheek and told Dog she had a toothache. Dog got so mad at her he started chasing her around and around the house.
Kenalin guys.. Saya biasa disapa Yenni.. Ini Blog Pertama ku dan ini adalah posting pertama ku.. ^^
Karena masih baru jadi harap maklum ya.. hihihihihiiii
Sekian dulu, lain waktu saya sambung lagi..
A fly was flying around a web but it seemed reluctant to land, so finally the resident spider poked its head out and invited it in.
A goat, an ass and a camel were walking down a road when they came upon a bundle of hay that had fallen from a cart.
A dog and a donkey were going to the market with their master. It was a very long walk across a mountainous path. At noon, the master ate the little food he had brought along, unloaded the donkey, and settled down under a tree for a nap. The donkey began to eat the grass growing there, but there was nothing for the dog to eat.
He had been driven in a furious rage racing from the army of mosquitoes and flies which tortured him. He began to breathe easier and to eat moss growing up on top of the knoll. His small herd of 15 were on their way to join the northwest Alaskan herd. Soon the rest of the herd was peacefully eating beside him. They ate for a few minutes until the pests arrived. The caribou ran for a quarter of a mile before coming to stop for another rest. This time instead of eating all the caribou laid down to sleep. The next morning, the caribou woke up and resumed their quest for the northwest Alaskan herd of 200,000. Later that day the caribou were crossing a river and they found that all the pests were gone! Two days later they found the large northwest herd and peacefully rested with them. 
