Loe raamatut: «Storytelling. The cat that walked by himself and other stories»

© Yu. Belochkina, compiling, 2021

© O. Huhalova-Mieshkova, graphic artist, 2021

© Folio Publishing House, brand series, 2020

Jack and the Beanstalk

by Flora Annie Steel

Once upon a time there lived a poor widow and her son Jack. One day, Jack’s mother told him to sell their only cow. Jack went to the market and on the way he met a man who wanted to buy his cow. Jack asked, “What will you give me in return for my cow?” The man answered, “I will give you five magic beans!” Jack took the magic beans and gave the man the cow. But when he reached home, Jack’s mother was very angry. She said, “You fool! He took away your cow and gave you some beans!” She threw the beans out of the window. Jack was very sad and went to sleep without dinner.

The next day, when Jack woke up in the morning and looked out of the window, he saw that a huge beanstalk had grown from his magic beans! He climbed up the beanstalk and reached a kingdom in the sky. There lived a giant and his wife. Jack went inside the house and found the giant’s wife in the kitchen. Jack said, “Could you please give me something to eat? I am so hungry!” The kind wife gave him bread and some milk.

While he was eating, the giant came home. The giant was very big and looked very fearsome. Jack was terrified and went and hid inside. The giant cried, “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” The wife said, “There is no boy in here!” So, the giant ate his food and then went to his room. He took out his sacks of gold coins, counted them, and kept them aside. Then he went to sleep. In the night, Jack crept out of his hiding place, took one sack of gold coins, and climbed down the beanstalk. At home, he gave the coins to his mother. His mother was very happy, and they lived well for some time.

Jack climbed the beanstalk and went to the giant’s house again. Once again, Jack asked the giant’s wife for food, but while he was eating, the giant returned. Jack leapt up in fright and went and hid under the bed. The giant cried, “Fee-fifo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” The wife said, “There is no boy in here!” The giant ate his food and went to his room. There, he took out a hen. He shouted, “Lay!” and the hen laid a golden egg. When the giant fell asleep, Jack took the hen and climbed down the beanstalk. Jack’s mother was very happy with him.

After some days, Jack once again climbed the beanstalk and went to the giant’s castle. For the third time, Jack met the giant’s wife and asked for some food. Once again, the giant’s wife gave him bread and milk. But while Jack was eating, the giant came home. “Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!” cried the giant. “Don’t be silly! There is no boy in here!” said his wife.

The giant had a magical harp that could play beautiful songs. While the giant slept, Jack took the harp and was about to leave. Suddenly, the magic harp cried, “Help master! A boy is stealing me!” The giant woke up and saw Jack with the harp. Furious, he ran after Jack. But Jack was too fast for him. He ran down the beanstalk and reached home. The giant followed him down. Jack quickly ran inside his house and fetched an axe. He began to chop the beanstalk. The giant fell and died.

Jack and his mother were now very rich, and they lived happily ever after.

The Bogey-Beast

by Flora Annie Steel

There was once a woman who was very, very cheerful, though she had little to make her so; for she was old, and poor, and lonely. She lived in a little cottage and earned a scant living by running errands for her neighbours, getting a bite here, a sup there, as a reward for her services. So she made a shift to get on, and always looked as spry and cheery as if she had not a want in the world.

Now one summer evening, as she was trotting, full of smiles as ever, along the high road to her hovel, what should she see but a big black pot lying in the ditch!

“Goodness me!” she cried, “that would be just the very thing for me if I only had something to put in it! But I haven’t! Now, who could have left it in the ditch?”

And she looked about her, expecting the owner would not be far off, but she could see nobody.

“Maybe there is a hole in it,” she went on, “and that’s why it has been cast away. But it would do fine to put a flower in for my window; so I’ll just take it home with me.”

And with that, she lifted the lid and looked inside. “Mercy me!” she cried, fair amazed. “If it isn’t full of gold pieces. Here’s luck!”

And so it was, brimful of great gold coins. Well, at first she simply stood stock-still, wondering if she was standing on her head or her heels. Then she began saying: “Lawks! But I do feel rich. I feel awful rich!”

After she had said this many times, she began to wonder how she was to get her treasure home. It was too heavy for her to carry, and she could see no better way than to tie the end of her shawl to it and drag it behind her like a go-cart.

“It will soon be dark,” she said to herself as she trotted along. “So much the better! The neighbours will not see what I’m bringing home, and I shall have all the night to myself, and be able to think what I’ll do! Mayhap I’ll buy a grand house and just sit by the fire with a cup o’ tea and do no work at all like a queen. Or maybe I’ll bury it at the garden foot and just keep a bit in the old china teapot on the chimney-piece. Or maybe – Goody! Goody! I feel that grand I don’t know myself.”

By this time she was a bit tired of dragging such a heavy weight, and, stopping to rest a while, turned to look at her treasure.

And lo! It wasn’t a pot of gold at all! It was nothing but a lump of silver.

She stared at it, and rubbed her eyes, and stared at it again.

“Well! I never!” she said at last. “And me thinking it was a pot of gold! I must have been dreaming. But this is luck! Silver is far less trouble – easier to mind, and not so easy stolen. Them gold pieces would have been the death o’ me, and with this great lump of silver” – So she went off again planning what she would do, and feeling as rich as rich, until becoming a bit tired again she stopped to rest and gave a look round to see if her treasure was safe; and she saw nothing but a great lump of iron!

“Well! I never!” says she again. “And I mistaking it for silver! I must have been dreaming. But this is luck! It’s real convenient. I can get penny pieces for old iron, and penny pieces are a deal handier for me than your gold and silver. Why! I should never have slept a wink for fear of being robbed. But a penny piece comes in useful, and I shall sell that iron for a lot and be real rich – rolling rich.”

So on she trotted, full of plans as to how she would spend her penny pieces, till once more she stopped to rest and looked round to see her treasure was safe. And this time she saw nothing but a big stone.

“Well! I never!” she cried, full of smiles. “And to think I mistook it for iron. I must have been dreaming. But here’s luck indeed, and me wanting a stone terrible bad to stick open the gate. Eh, my! But it’s a change for the better! It’s a fine thing to have good luck.”

So, all in a hurry to see how the stone would keep the gate open, she trotted off down the hill till she came to her own cottage. She unlatched the gate and then turned to unfasten her shawl from the stone which lay on the path behind her. Aye! It was a stone, sure enough. There was plenty light to see it lying there, douce and peaceable as a stone should.

So she bent over it to unfasten the shawl end, when – ”Oh my!” All of a sudden it gave a jump, a squeal, and in one moment was as big as a haystack. Then it let down four great lanky legs and threw out two long ears, nourished a great long tail, and romped off, kicking and squealing and whinnying and laughing like a naughty, mischievous boy!

The old woman stared after it till it was fairly out of sight, then she burst out laughing too.

“Well!” she chuckled, “I am in luck! Quite the luckiest body hereabouts. Fancy my seeing the Bogey-Beast all to myself, and making myself so free with it, too! My goodness! I do feel that uplifted – that GRAND!” -

So she went into her cottage and spent the evening chuckling over her good luck.

The ten trails

by Ernest Thompson Seton

Once there were two Indians who went out together to hunt. Hapeda was very strong and swift and a wonderful bowman. Chatun was much weaker and carried a weaker bow; but he was very patient.

As they went through the hills they came on the fresh track of a small Deer. Chatun said: “My brother, I shall follow that.”

But Hapeda said: “You may if you like, but a mighty hunter like me wants bigger game.”

So they parted.

Hapeda went on for an hour or more and found the track of ten large Elk going different ways. He took the trail of the largest and followed for a long way, but not coming up with it, he said: “That one is evidently traveling. I should have taken one of the others.”

So he went back to the place where he first found it, and took up the trail of another. After a hunt of over an hour in which he failed to get a shot, he said: “I have followed another traveler. I’ll go back and take up the trail of one that is feeding.”

But again, after a short pursuit, he gave up that one to go back and try another that seemed more promising. Thus he spent a whole day trying each of the trails for a short time, and at night came back to camp with nothing, to find that Chatun, though his inferior in all other ways, had proved wiser. He had stuck doggedly to the trail of the one little Deer, and now had its carcass safely in camp.

Moral: The Prize is always at the end of the trail.

The three wishes

by Katharine Pyle

Once upon a time a poor man took his ax and went out into the forest to cut wood. He was a lazy fellow, so as soon as he was in the forest he began to look about to see which tree would be the easiest to cut down. At last he found one that was hollow inside, as he could tell by knocking upon it with his ax.

“It ought not to take long to cut this down,” said he to himself. He raised his ax and struck the tree such a blow that the splinters flew.

At once, the bark opened and a little old fairy with a long beard came running out of the tree.

“What do you mean by chopping into my house?” he cried; and his eyes shone like red hot sparks, he was so angry.

“I did not know it was your house,” said the man.

“Well, it is my house, and I’ll thank you to let it alone,” cried the fairy.

“Very well,” said the man. “I’d just as lieve cut down some other tree. I’ll chop down the one over yonder.”

“That is well,” said the fairy. “I see that you are an obliging fellow, after all. I have it in my mind to reward you for sparing my house, so the next three wishes you and your wife make shall come true, whatever they are; and that is your reward.”

Then the fairy went back into the tree again and pulled the bark together behind him.

The man stood looking at the tree and scratching his head. “Now that is a curious thing,” said he. Then he sat down and began to wonder what he should wish for. He thought and he thought, but he could decide on nothing. “I’ll just go home and talk it over with my wife,” said he; so he shouldered his ax, and set off for home. As soon as he came in at the door he began to bawl for his wife, and she came in a hurry, for she did not know what had happened to him.

He told his story and his wife listened.

“This is a fine thing to have happen to us,” said she. “Now we must be very careful what we wish for.”

They sat down one on each side of the fire to talk it over. They thought of ever so many things they would like to have – a bag of gold, and a coach and four, and a fine house to live in, and fine clothes to wear, but nothing seemed just the right thing to choose.

They talked so long that they grew hungry.

“Well, here we sit,” said the man, “and not a thing cooked for dinner. I wish we had one of those fine black puddings you used to make.”

No sooner had he spoken than there was a great thumping and bumping in the chimney and a great black pudding fell down on the hearth before him.

“What is this?” cried the man staring.

“Oh, you oaf! You stupid!” shrieked his wife. “It’s the pudding you wished for. There’s one of our wishes wasted. I wish the pudding were stuck on the end of your nose! It would serve you right!”

The moment she said this the pudding flew up and stuck to the man’s nose, and there it was and he couldn’t get it off; the man pulled and tugged, and his wife pulled and tugged, but it was all of no use.

“Well, there’s no help for it,” said the husband; “we’ll have to wish it off again.”

His wife begun to cry and bawl.

“No, no,” she cried. “We only have one wish left, and we can’t waste it that way. Let’s wish ourselves the richest people in the world.”

But to this the man would not agree. He wanted the pudding off his nose, whatever it cost. So at last the wife was obliged to let him have his own way.

“I wish the pudding was off my nose again,” said the man, and that was the third of their wishes.

So all the good they had of the fairy’s gift was a black pudding for dinner; but then it was the best black pudding they had ever eaten.

“And after all,” said the man, “there’s nothing much better in the world to wish for than a full stomach.”

The nail

by Katharine Pyle

A merchant had been trading in a far city and had made much money, which he was now bringing home with him. He rode in haste, for he knew he would not feel easy until he had locked away the gold in his strong room at home.

Toward the middle of the morning, he stopped at an inn to give his horse water.

“Sir,” said the ostler who waited on him, “a nail is loose in your horse’s shoe.”

“No matter,” answered the merchant. “I am in haste, and the shoe must go as it is till I get home.”

A little later he stopped at another inn. “Sir,” said the ostler, “your horse’s shoe is loose; shall I not take him to the blacksmith near by and have the shoe fastened on?”

“No,” answered the merchant, “I have not time to wait. I must be home before nightfall.”

The merchant rode still farther, but presently his horse began to limp. It limped more and more, until at last, in the very midst of a deep forest, it stumbled and fell, and could not get up again.

The merchant was in despair. Dusk was coming on, and there seemed nothing for it but to spend the night in the forest. However, he discovered a house near by, and the old woman who was in charge of it promised him food and a lodging for the night.

When the merchant went up to bed he put his bag of gold under his pillow. He meant to watch all night, but he was very tired, and presently, in spite of himself his eyes closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

Now this house belonged to a band of robbers, and the old woman was their housekeeper. Soon after the merchant was asleep the robbers came home. The housekeeper told them of the rich man who had come to the house while they were away, and of how she had given him a bed for the night.

The robbers went up to the merchant’s room and finding him asleep they stole the bag of money from under his pillow, and made off with it.

In the morning, when the merchant awoke, he felt under his pillow for the bag, but it was gone. He called aloud, but no one answered. He searched the house from top to bottom, but could find nobody.

So the merchant lost both his gold and his horse. “And all,” said he, “because I was in such haste that I would not stop for a nail to be put in my horse’s shoe. It is a true saying – ‘the more haste the less speed.’”

Mother Hulda

by Katharine Pyle

There was once a widow who had two daughters; the elder of the girls was cross and ugly, but the mother loved her dearly because she was exactly like herself, and also because she was her own daughter. The younger girl was only her stepdaughter, and because of this, and also because the girl was good and pretty, the mother hated her, and did all she could to make her miserable.

One day the good daughter sat by the well spinning, and as she spun she wept because she was so unhappy. The tears blinded her eyes, and presently she pricked her finger, and a drop of blood fell on the flax. The girl was frightened, for she feared her stepmother would scold her when she saw the flax, so she stooped over the edge of the well to try to wash the blood off it. But the spindle slipped from her hand and sank down and down through the water until it was lost to sight.

That was worse than ever; the girl did not know what her stepmother would do to her when she heard the spindle had been lost down the well. Still, she was obliged to confess.

The widow was indeed very angry.

“You good-for-nothing!” she cried. “You are the trouble of my life. Out of my sight, and do not dare to return until you can bring the spindle with you,” and she gave the girl a push so that she almost fell over.

The girl was so frightened and unhappy that she ran out of the door; without stopping to think, she jumped into the well. Down, down she sank, through the waters, just as the spindle had done, and when she reached the bottom she found herself in a broad green meadow with a road leading across it.

The girl followed the road, and presently she came to a baker’s oven that stood beside the way, and it was full of bread. The girl was about to pass by, but the loaves inside called to her, “Take us out! Take us out! If we are left in the oven any longer, we will burn.”

She was surprised to hear the bread speak to her, but she opened the door and drew the loaves out, and set them neatly on end to cool. Then she went on.

A little farther, she came to an apple-tree. It was so loaded down with fruit that the branches bent with the weight of it.

“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My apples are ripe and my boughs are like to break with the weight of them.”

The girl shook the apple-tree till the apples fell about her in a shower. She piled the apples neatly about the tree and went on her way.

After awhile she came to a little house, and an ugly old woman with long yellow teeth was looking out of the window. The girl was frightened at the old woman’s looks and was about to turn away, but the woman called to her, “Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I need a serving-maid. Come in, and if you serve me faithfully I will reward you well.”

The girl did not feel afraid any longer. She opened the door and went in.

The old woman took her upstairs and showed her a great feather bed. “I am Mother Hulda,” said she. “It is I who send out the frost and snow over the world. Every day you must give my bed a good beating. Then, when the feathers fly, it snows upon the earth.”

The girl stayed with Mother Hulda many months. Every day she gave the bed such a good beating that the feathers flew, and there was much snow that year. Mother Hulda was very much pleased with her. She was kind to her, and the girl had all she wanted to eat, and that of the best, and a comfortable bed to sleep in; but all the same, by the time the winter was over she began to feel sad and dull. She longed to see her home and her mother and sister, too, even though they were unkind to her.

“Now I see it is time for you to go back to the earth again,” said Mother Hulda. “You have served me well and faithfully, and you shall be rewarded as I promised you.”

She then opened a closet door and brought out the girl’s spindle and gave it to her. After that she took the girl by the hand and led her out of the house and along a road to a great gate that stood open.

The girl passed out through the gate, and as she did so a shower of gold fell all about her like rain, and stuck to her so that she glittered from head to foot with gold; even her shoes and her clothes were golden.

“That is my reward to you because you have been a good servant,” cried Mother Hulda. Then the gate closed, and the girl ran along the road and quickly came to the house of her stepmother.

As she entered the gate, the cock crowed loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Our golden girl’s come home again.”

She entered the house, and now her mother and sister were glad to see her because she was covered with gold. They asked her where she had been and who had given her all that treasure.

The girl told them. Then they were filled with envy.

“Here! Take your spindle,” cried the widow to her own daughter. “Throw it in the well and jump down after it. If Mother Hulda has rewarded your sister in this way what will she not do for you? No doubt you will come home all covered with diamonds and rubies.”

The ugly girl took her spindle and threw it down the well, as her mother bade her, and jumped in after it. Down, down she went, just as her sister had done, and there was the green meadow with the road leading across it.

The girl hurried along the road, for she was in haste to reach Mother Hulda’s house and get a reward, and presently she came to the oven.

“Take us out! Take us out!” cried the loaves inside. “We will burn if we are left in here any longer.”

“Why should I blacken my hands for you?” cried the girl. “Stay where you are, and if you burn, no one will be the worse for it but yourselves.” And so saying, she went on her way.

A little farther she came to the apple-tree, and its boughs were bent with the weight of the fruit it bore.

“Shake me! Shake me!” cried the apple-tree. “My fruit is ripe, and my boughs are like to break with the weight of it.”

“Not I!” cried the girl. “I will not shake you. Suppose one of the apples should fall upon my head. Your boughs may break for all of me!” And so she went on her way, munching an apple that she had picked up from off the ground.

It was not long before she came to Mother Hulda’s house, and there was Mother Hulda herself looking out of the window. The ugly girl was not afraid of her and her long teeth, for the good sister had already told her about them. She marched up to the door and opened it as bold as bold.

“I have come to take service with you,” she said, “and to get the reward.”

“Very well,” answered Mother Hulda. “If you serve me well and faithfully, the reward shall not be lacking.”

She then took the ugly girl upstairs and showed her the bed, and told her how she was to shake and beat it. Then she left her there.

The ugly girl began to beat the bed, but she soon tired of it and came downstairs and asked if supper were ready. Mother Hulda frowned, but she said nothing, and she gave the girl a good supper of bread and meat.

The next day the ugly girl hardly beat the bed at all, and the next day it was still worse. At the end of the week hardly a flake of snow had floated out over the world.

“You will never do for me,” said Mother Hulda. “You will have to go.”

“Very well,” answered the girl. “I am willing, but give me my reward first.”

“Yes, you shall have your reward,” said Mother Hulda, “and you deserve it.”

She opened the closet and took out the spindle and gave it to her, and led her along the road to the open gate. The girl was very much pleased. “Now in a moment,” thought she, “I will be all covered with gold the way my sister was, unless I am covered with diamonds and rubies.”

“There lies your way,” cried Mother Hulda.

The girl ran through the gate, but instead of gold or precious stones, a shower of soot fell over her so that she was black from head to foot.

“That is the reward of your services,” cried Mother Hulda to the girl, and then she banged the gate and locked it so that the girl could not come back.

So the lazy daughter ran home, crying, and as she entered the gate the cock crowed loudly, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Our sooty girl’s come home again.”

And try as she might the ugly girl could never get the soot entirely off her. But as to the good sister she was married to a great nobleman, and lived happy ever after.