Fight with the Firbolgs

From: Gods and Fighting Men, by Lady Gregory

It was in a mist the Tuatha de Danaan, the people of the gods of Dana, or as some called them, the Men of Dea, came through the air and the high air to Ireland.

It was from the north they came; and in the place they came from they had four cities, where they fought their battle for learning: great Falias, and shining Gorias, and Finias, and rich Murias that lay to the south. And in those cities they had four wise men to teach their young men skill and knowledge and perfect wisdom: Senias in Murias; and Arias, the fair-haired poet, in Finias; and Urias of the noble nature in Gorias; and Morias in Falias itself. And they brought from those four cities their four treasures: a Stone of Virtue from Falias, that was called the Lia Fail, the Stone of Destiny; and from Gorias they brought a Sword; and from Finias a Spear of Victory; and from Murias the fourth treasure, the Cauldron that no company ever went away from unsatisfied.

The Castle of Comorre

From: Folk Tales of Brittany, by Elsie Masson

Long ago in the town of Vannes there lived a king who had an only daughter. Her name was Tréphine. She was the loveliest princess in all of Brittany and all the lands that lay beyond. Moreover, she had never committed a mortal sin. And so the king, her father, would rather have lost all his castles, farms, and horses than to have seen Tréphine unhappy.

One day ambassadors came to the King of Vannes from the country of Cornouaille, from Count Comorre, a powerful ruler at that time. They brought with them gifts of honey, linen thread, and a dozen suckling pigs and gave them to the king, telling him that Count Comorre wished to marry the Princess Tréphine. They said that their master had visited the last fair disguised as a soldier, that he had seen the young princess and had fallen in love with her.

The request for her hand caused the princess and her father the deepest grief. For you must know that Comorre was a wicked and mighty tyrant. He loved to do evil. Indeed he was so cruel that when he was a mere boy whenever he went forth from the castle his mother used to rush to the alarm bell in the tower and ring it to warn the townsfolk that he was coming. As he grew older he became more wicked every day so that he was feared and hated by all. But worst of all he had already had four wives whom he had killed.

Why The Cat Always Falls Upon Her Feet

From: The Book of Nature Myths, by Florence Holbrook


Some magicians are cruel, but others are gentle and good to all the creatures of the earth. One of these good magicians was one day traveling in a great forest. The sun rose high in the heavens, and he lay down at the foot of a tree. Soft, green moss grew all about him. The sun shining through the leaves made flecks of light and shadow upon the earth. He heard the song of the bird and the lazy buzz of the wasp. The wind rustled the leafy boughs above him. All the music of the forest lulled him to slumber, and he closed his eyes.

As the magician lay asleep, a great serpent came softly from the thicket. It lifted high its shining crest and saw the man at the foot of the tree. "I will kill him!" it hissed. "I could have eaten that cat last night if he had not called, 'Watch, little cat, watch!' I will kill him, I will kill him!"

Closer and closer the deadly serpent moved. The magician stirred in his sleep. "Watch, little cat, watch!" he said softly. The serpent drew back, but the magician's eyes were shut, and it went closer. It hissed its war-cry. The sleeping magician did not move. The serpent was upon him--no, far up in the high branches of the tree above his head the little cat lay hidden. She had seen the serpent when it came from the thicket. She watched it as it went closer and closer to the sleeping man, and she heard it hiss its war-cry. The little cat's body quivered with anger and with fear, for she was so little and the serpent was so big. "The magician was very good to me," she thought, and she leaped down upon the serpent.

How Little Ivan Became a Tsar

From: Stories of Russian Folk-Life, by Donald A. Mackenzie

A cobbler's son in Vladimir had been sent to a school by a rich lady who desired him to become a priest. His father took great pride in the boy, and cleared a corner of his shop where he might sit in quietness to pursue his studies undisturbed by the rest of the children, Like all other shoe-makers he knew many old stories, and, believing these would increase his son's knowledge, he was wont to relate them to him as he patched and stitched the boots that his customers left to be repaired.

"What are you reading about to-day?" he asked his son, who was poring over a book in his corner.

"The history of Ivan the Terrible, Father. He was a great Tsar, who did much to make Russia rich and powerful."

The Legend of Knockfierna

From: Fairy Legends and Traditions, by Thomas Crofton Croker


[Kockfierna: Called by the people of the country 'Knock Dhoinn Firinne,' the mountain of Donn of Truth. This mountain is very high, and may be seen for several miles round; and when people are desirous to know whether or not any. day will rain, they look at the top of Knock Firinn, and if they see a vapour or mist there, they immediately conclude that rain will soon follow, believing that Donn (the lord or chief) of that mountain and his aerial assistants are collecting the clouds, and that he holds them there for some short time, to warn the people of the approaching rain. As the appearance of mist on that mountain in the morning is considered an infallible sign that, that day will be rainy, Donn is called 'Dona Firinne,' Donn of Truth. "- Mr. Edward O'Reilly]

It is a very good thing not to be any way in dread of the fairies, for without doubt they have then less power over a person ; but to make too free with them, or to disbelieve in them altogether, is as foolish a thing as man, woman, or child can do.

The Young Swain and the Elves

From: The Fairy Mythology, by Thomas Keightley

I was a handsome young swain,
And to the court should ride.
I rode out in the evening-hour;
In the rosy grove I to sleep me laid.
Since I her first saw.

I laid me under a lind so green,
My eyes they sunk in sleep;
There came two maidens going along,
They fain would with me speak.
Since I her first saw.

The Kind Giver and the Grudging Giver

From: Aino Folk-Tales, by Basil Hall Chamberlain


A certain man had laid his net across the river; having laid his net, he killed a quantity of fish. Meanwhile there came a raven, and perched beside him. It seemed to be greatly hungering after the fish. It was much to be pitied. So the fisherman washed one of the fish, and threw it to the raven. The raven ate the fish with great joy. Afterwards the raven came again. Though it was a raven, it spoke thus, just like a human being: "I am very grateful for having been fed on fish by you. If you will come with me to my old father, he too will thank you, So you had better come."

The man went with the raven. Being a raven, it flew through the air. The man followed it on foot. After they had gone a long way, they came to a large house. When they got there, the raven went into the house. The man went in also. When he looked, it appeared like a human being in form, though it was a raven. There were also a divine old man and a divine old woman besides the divine girl. This girl was she who had led the man hither. The divine old man spoke thus: "I am very grateful to you. As I am very grateful to you for feeding my daughter with good fish, I have had you brought here in order to reward you." Thus spoke the divine old man.

The Wise Bat

From: Tibetan Folk Tales, by A.L. Shelton

"If you are a parable unto yourself--there exists no evil."
                                                         Tibetan Proverb.

A long time ago, a very long time ago, when men and animals spoke to each other and understood the languages of one another, there lived a very powerful king. He lived far off in a corner of the world and alone ruled all the animals and men in his jurisdiction. Around his grounds and palace were great forests and in these forests many birds and animals lived. Every one seemed happy, except the king's wife, and she said that so many birds singing at the same time made such frightful discord that it worried her. One day she asked the king to call them all in and cut off their bills so they couldn't sing any more.

"All right," the king said. "We will do that in a few days."

Now, hanging under the eaves of the palace, close to the queen's room, was a little bat, and though he seemed to be asleep, he heard and understood everything the queen had said. He said to himself, "This is very bad indeed. I wonder what I can do to help all the birds."

The Monkey and the Crocodile

From: Jataka Tales, by Ellen C. Babbitt

PART I

A Monkey lived in a great tree on a river bank.

In the river there were many Crocodiles. A Crocodile watched the Monkeys for a long time, and one day she said to her son: "My son, get one of those Monkeys for me. I want the heart of a Monkey to eat."

"How am I to catch a Monkey?" asked the little Crocodile. "I do not travel on land, and the Monkey does not go into the water."

"Put your wits to work, and you'll find a way," said the mother.

And the little Crocodile thought and thought.

The Three Orange Peris

From: Forty-four Turkish Fairy Tales, by Ignácz Kúnos

In olden time, when there was abundance of all things, we ate and drank the whole day long, yet went hungry to bed. At this time there lived a Padishah whose days were joyless, for he had no son.

Sorrowfully he set out with his lala, and as they wandered, drinking coffee and smoking tobacco, they came to a wide valley. They sat down to rest, and suddenly the valley resounded with the cracking of whips, and a white. bearded dervish, clad in green, with yellow shoes, appeared before them. The Padishah and his companion trembled with fright, but when the dervish approached and saluted them with "Selâmin alejküm!" they took courage and returned the greeting: "Ve alejküm selâm!"

The Story of the Four Brothers

From: Tlingit Myths and Texts, by John R. Swanton

There were four brothers who owned a dog of an Athapascan variety called dzî. They had one sister. One day the dog began barking at something. Then KAck!A'Lk!, the eldest brother, put red paint inside of his blanket, took his rattle, and followed. The other brothers went with him. They pursued it up, up, up, into the sky. The dog kept on barking, and they did not know what it was going to do. It was chasing a cloud.

When they got to the other side of the world they came out on the edge of a very steep cliff. They did not know what to do. The dog, however, went right down the cliff, and they saw the cloud still going on ahead. Now these brothers had had nothing to eat and were very hungry. Presently they saw the dog coming up from far below bringing the tail of a salmon. After a while they saw it run back.

The Slippers of the Twelve Princesses

From: Roumanian Fairy Tales and Legends, by Mrs. E. B. Mawr

I.

Once on a time, in the good old times, there lived a cow-herd, who had neither father nor mother. He was called Jonica, that is to say Johnnie, but people had given him the name of Gura Casca (open mouth) because when he led his cows to pasture, he bellowed at every thing which he met on the way. Otherwise he was really a very pretty boy, his face was fair, and his eyes as blue as a morsel of the sky, with hair curling, and as yellow as the rays of the Sun. The young girls of the village teased him sadly. "Hé! Hé! Jonica, where are you going with your open mouth"? "What does that matter to you"? he would reply tranquilly, and pass on his way. Though only a cow-herd, he was sufficiently proud of his good looks, and he knew quite well the difference between beauty and ugliness, so the young peasant girls with their faces and throats tanned by the sun, their large hands red and cracked, their feet shod in "opinci" (a rough sort of sandal) or other common leather, were not at all to his mind.

He had heard tell, that, down there, a long way off, in the towns, the young girls were quite different; that they had throats as white as alabaster, pink cheeks, delicate and soft hands, their small feet covered by satin slippers, that in short they were clad in robes of silk and gold, and were called Princesses. So that, while his comrades only sought to please some rustic villager, he dreamed, neither more nor less, that he should marry a Princess.

Long, Broad, and Sharpsight

From: Sixty Folk-Tales from Exclusively Slavonic Sources, by A.H. Wratislaw

There was a king, who was already old, and had but one son. Once upon a time he called this son to him, and said to him, 'My dear son! you know that old fruit falls to make room for other fruit. My head is already ripening, and maybe the sun will soon no longer shine upon it; but before you bury me, I should like to see your wife, my future daughter. My son, marry!' The prince said, 'I would gladly, father, do as you wish; but I have no bride, and don't know any.' The old king put his hand into his pocket, took out a golden key and showed it to his son, with the words, 'Go up into the tower, to the top story, look round there, and then tell me which you fancy.' The prince went without delay. Nobody within the memory of man had been up there, or had ever heard what was up there.

When he got up to the last story, he saw in the ceiling a little iron door like a trap-door. It was closed. He opened it with the golden key, lifted it, and went up above it. There there was a large circular room. The ceiling was blue like the sky on a clear night, and silver stars glittered on it; the floor was a carpet of green silk, and around in the wall were twelve high windows in golden frames, and in each window on crystal glass was a damsel painted with the colours of the rainbow, with a royal crown on her head, in each window a different one in a different dress, each handsomer than the other, and it was a wonder that the prince did not let his eyes dwell upon them. When he had gazed at them with astonishment, the damsels began to move as if they were alive, looked down upon him, smiled, and did everything but speak.

The Tobacco of Harisaboqued

From: Philippine Folklore Stories, by John Maurice Miller

A legend of the volcano of Canlaon on the island of Negros. It is told generally in Western Negros and Eastern Cebu. The volcano is still active, and smoke and steam rise from its crater.

Long before the strange men came over the water from Spain, there lived in Negros, on the mountain of Canlaon, an old man who had great power over all the things in the earth. He was called Harisaboqued, King of the Mountain.

Tying Tiger (The Fish-Basket)

From: Jamaica Anansi Stories, by George Parkes, Mandeville

One great hungry time. Anansi couldn't get anyt'ing to eat, so he take up his hand-basket an' a big pot an' went down to the sea-side to catch fish. When he reach there, he make up a large fire and put the pot on the fire, an' say, "Come, big fish!" He catch some big fish put them aside. He said, "Big fish go, make little fish come!" He then catch the little fish. He say, "Little fish go, make big fish come!" an' say, "Big fish go, make little fish come!" He then catch the pot full an' his hand-basket. He bile the pot full and sit down and eat it off; he then started home back with the pot on his head and the basket. Reaching a little way, he hide the pot away in the bush an take the basket along with him now.

Hawk-Man (Achomawi)

From: Achomawi and Atsugewi Tales. Achomawi Myths, by Roland B. Dixon

Sun had a wife, Shell-Woman. She said to her husband, "There are two chiefs living over there. Let our children go and marry them." So Sun agreed; and Shell-Woman said, "Now, go ye! There are many chiefs there. They have much to eat. Ye must go to Pine-Marten. He is the best." Then the sisters got ready, put in their pack-baskets of shell, salmon and acorn-bread and manzanita-berries for food, and came from the west hitherward, across the Fall River. As they came around the point of woods in the valley, Coyote was burning down a tree, and saw them, The youngest sister knew at once who he was, but the oldest fell in love at once. The youngest said, "Go on! Don't stop! That is Coyote." Then Coyote said to himself, "I wish that she should not know who I am," and ran ahead, calling for all kinds of fine clothing to come to him. At once they were there, at his hand, and, putting them on, he disguised himself so that he looked different, covering up a dimple which he had. But when he again met the sisters, the youngest knew him again at once. She said, "Go on! Don't stop! That is Coyote." So they went on.

The Seven Stages of Roostem

From: Folklore and Legends: Oriental, by Charles John Tibbitts

A Persian Tale

Persia was at peace, and prosperous; but its king, Ky-Kâoos, could never remain at rest. A favourite singer gave him one day an animated account of the beauties of the neighbouring kingdom of Mazenderan: its ever-blooming roses, its melodious nightingales, its verdant plains, its mountains shaded with lofty trees, and adorned to their summits with flowers which perfumed the air, its clear murmuring rivulets, and, above all, its lovely damsels and valiant warriors.


All these were described to the sovereign in such glowing colours that he quite lost his reason, and declared he should never be happy till his power extended over a country so favoured by Nature. It was in vain that his wisest ministers and most attached nobles dissuaded him from so hazardous an enterprise as that of invading a region which had, besides other defenders, a number of Deevs, or demons, who, acting under their renowned chief, Deev-e-Seffeed, or the White Demon, had hitherto defeated all enemies.

Elidyr's Sojurn in Fairy-Land

From: The Welsh Fairy Book, by W. Jenkyn Thomas

In that country of crosses, ruined chapels and rocking stones, caers and tumuli, cromlechs and camps, which is sometimes known as Dewisland, there once lived a boy named Elidyr whose father and mother wished him to become a priest. They accordingly sent him every day to the monks of St. David's to learn his letters, but the little rascal much preferred hoop and ball to book-learning; all that went in at one ear came out at the other, and as a scholar he therefore left much to be desired. His teachers, remembering that Solomon had said, "He that spareth his rod hateth his son, but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes," showed their affection towards their pupil in the manner he advised. At first they corrected him lightly and infrequently, but Elidyr did not amend his ways, and before long not a lesson passed without chastisement. Not only were the stripes more frequent, but they also became more severe, till Elidyr could stand them no longer. So one day when he was twelve years old he ran away: he went on and on, and the further he got the happier he felt. Knowing that a search would be made for him, he looked diligently for a hiding place, but for a long time he could find no place where he could feel safe. At last he came to a river: under the hollow bank of this, there was a beautiful hiding place, where no pursuer would ever expect to find a runaway. Into this he crept and slept that night as soundly as the best little boy who ever tired himself out with lessons. The next day he realised that, glorious as his hiding place was as an escape from books and thwackings, it had its disadvantages: the chief was that there was nothing to eat and drink, and that is a very serious thing for a growing boy with a healthy appetite. It was not safe to go out even to look for hips and haws, because when he lifted his head above the river bank he saw men and women searching all over the countryside for him. He became hungrier and hungrier, and oh, how slowly the time passed! It was the longest day Elidyr had ever known: the sun simply crawled across the heavens, and it seemed to be an age before it dipped its red rim in the waters of St. Bride's Bay. He was no better off even when the sun did set, because night is worse than day when you cannot sleep, and it is very difficult to get even forty winks when you have an aching void inside you. Every time he woke up he felt hungrier, and he made up his mind to return home as soon as it was light enough for him to find his way.

The Legend of the Destruction of Mankind

From: Legends of the Gods: The Egyptian Texts, by E.A. Wallis Budge

Note: In the interest of readability, some of the text has been changed.

The text containing the Legend of the Destruction of Mankind is written in hieroglyphs, and is found on the four walls of a small chamber which is entered from the "hall of columns" in the tomb of Seti I., which is situated on the west bank of the Nile at Thebes. On the wall facing the door of this chamber is painted in red the figure of the large "Cow of Heaven." The lower part of her belly is decorated with a series of thirteen stars, and immediately beneath it are the two Boats of Ra, called Semketet and Mantchet, or Sektet and Matet. Each of her four legs is held in position by two gods, and the god Shu, with outstretched uplifted arms, supports her body.

The legend takes us back to the time when the gods of Egypt went about in the country, and mingled with men and were thoroughly acquainted with their desires and needs. The king who reigned over Egypt was Ra, the Sun-god, who was not, however, the first of the Dynasty of Gods who ruled the land. His predecessor on the throne was Hephaistos, who, according to Manetho, reigned 9000 years, whilst Ra reigned only 992 years; Panodorus makes his reign to have lasted less than 100 years. Be this as it may, it seems that the "self-created and self-begotten" god Ra had been ruling over mankind for a very long time, for his subjects were murmuring against him, and they were complaining that he was old, that his bones were like silver, his body like gold, and his hair like lapis-lazuli. When Ra heard these murmurings he ordered his bodyguard to summon all the gods who had been with him in the primeval World-ocean, and to bid them privately to assemble in the Great House, which can be no other than the famous temple of Heliopolis.

Princess Finola and the Dwarf

From: The Golden Spears and other Fairy Tales, by Edmund Leamy

A long, long time ago there lived in a little hut in the midst of a bare, brown, lonely moor an old woman and a young girl. The old woman was withered, sour-tempered, and dumb. The young girl was as sweet and as fresh as an opening rosebud, and her voice was as musical as the whisper of a stream in the woods in the hot days of summer. The little hut, made of branches woven closely together, was shaped like a beehive. In the centre of the hut a fire burned night and day from year’s end to year’s end, though it was never touched or tended by human hand. In the cold days and nights of winter it gave out light and heat that made the hut cosy and warm, but in the summer nights and days it gave out light only. With their heads to the wall of the hut and their feet towards the fire were two sleeping-couches––one of plain woodwork, in which slept the old woman; the other was Finola’s. It was of bog-oak, polished as a looking-glass, and on it were carved flowers and birds of all kinds, that gleamed and shone in the light of the fire. This couch was fit for a princess, and a princess Finola was, though she did not know it herself.

Outside the hut the bare, brown, lonely moor stretched for miles on every side, but towards the east it was bounded by a range of mountains that looked to Finola blue in the daytime, but which put on a hundred changing colours as the sun went down. Nowhere was a house to be seen, nor a tree, nor a flower, nor sign of any living thing. From morning till night, nor hum of bee, nor song of bird, nor voice of man, nor any sound fell on Finola’s ear. When the storm was in the air the great waves thundered on the shore beyond the mountains, and the wind shouted in the glens; but when it sped across the moor it lost its voice, and passed as silently as the dead. At first the silence frightened Finola, but she got used to it after a time, and often broke it by talking to herself and singing.

The Monkey's Fiddle

From: South African Folk Tales, by James A. Honey, MD

Hunger and want forced Monkey one day to forsake his land and to seek elsewhere among strangers for much-needed work. Bulbs, earth beans, scorpions, insects, and such things were completely exhausted in his own land. But fortunately he received, for the time being, shelter with a great uncle of his, Orang Outang, who lived in another part of the country.

When he had worked for quite a while he wanted to return home, and as recompense his great uncle gave him a fiddle and a bow and arrow and told him that with the bow and arrow he could hit and kill anything he desired, and with the fiddle he could force anything to dance.

The first he met upon his return to his own land was Brer Wolf. This old fellow told him all the news and also that he had since early morning been attempting to stalk a deer, but all in vain.

The Red Ettin

From: English Fairy Tales, by Joseph Jacobs

There was once a widow that lived on a small bit of ground, which she rented from a farmer. And she had two sons; and by and by it was time for the wife to send them away to seek their fortune. So she told her eldest son one day to take a can and bring her water from the well, that she might bake a cake for him; and however much or however little water he might bring, the cake would be great or small accordingly, and that cake was to be all that she could give him when he went on his travels.

The lad went away with the can to the well, and filled it with water, and then came away home again; but the can being broken, the most part of the water had run out before he got back. So his cake was very small; yet small as it was, his mother asked him if he was willing to take the half of it with her blessing, telling him that, if he chose rather to take the whole, he would only get it with her curse. The young man, thinking he might have to travel a far way, and not knowing when or how he might get other provisions, said he would like to have the whole cake, come out of his mother's malison what might; so she gave him the whole cake, and her malison along with it. Then he took his brother aside, and gave him a knife to keep till he should come back, desiring him to look at it every morning, and as tong as it continued to be clear, then he might be sure that the owner of it was well; but if it grew dim and rusty, then for certain some ill had befallen him.

The Bronze Ring

From: The Blue Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang

Once upon a time in a certain country there lived a king whose palace was surrounded by a spacious garden. But, though the gardeners were many and the soil was good, this garden yielded neither flowers nor fruits, not even grass or shady trees.

The King was in despair about it, when a wise old man said to him:

"Your gardeners do not understand their business: but what can you expect of men whose fathers were cobblers and carpenters? How should they have learned to cultivate your garden?"

"You are quite right," cried the King.

"Therefore," continued the old man, "you should send for a gardener whose father and grandfather have been gardeners before him, and very soon your garden will be full of green grass and gay flowers, and you will enjoy its delicious fruit."

Fundevogel

From: Household Tales, by Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm

There was once a forester who went into the forest to hunt, and as he entered it he heard a sound of  screaming as if a little child were there. He followed the sound, and at last came to a high tree, and at the top of this a little child was sitting, for the mother had fallen asleep under the tree with the child, and a bird of prey had seen it in her arms, had flown down, snatched it away, and set it on the high tree.

The forester climbed up, brought the child down, and thought to himself: 'You will take him home with you, and bring him up with your Lina.' He took it home, therefore, and the two children grew up together. And the one, which he had found on a tree was called Fundevogel, because a bird had carried it away. Fundevogel and Lina loved each other so dearly that when they did not see each other they were sad.

Dinewan the Emu, and Goomblegubbon the Bustard

From: Australian Legendary Tales, by K. Langloh Parker

Dinewan the emu, being the largest bird, was acknowledged as king bythe other birds. The Goomblegubbons, the bustards, were jealous of the Dinewans. Particularly was Goomblegubbon, the mother, jealous of the Diriewan mother. She would watch with envy the high flight of the Dinewans, and their swift running. And she always fancied that the Dinewan mother flaunted her superiority in her face, for whenever Dinewan alighted near Goomblegubbon, after a long, high flight, she would flap her big wings and begin booing in her pride, not the loud booing of the male bird, but a little, triumphant, satisfied booing noise of her own, which never failed to irritate Goomblegubbon when she heard it.

Goomblegubbon used to wonder how she could put an end to Dinewan's supremacy. She decided that she would only be able to do so by injuring her wings and checking her power of flight. But the question that troubled her was how to effect this end. She kn ew she would gain nothing by having a quarrel with Dinewan and fighting her, for no Goomblegubbon would stand any chance against a Dinewan, There was evidently nothing to be gained by an open fight. She would have to effect her end by cunning.

The Woman who had a Bear as a Foster-Son

From: Eskimo Folk-Tales, by Knud Rasmussen

There was once an old woman living in a place where others lived. She lived nearest the shore, and when those who lived in houses up above had been out hunting, they gave her both meat and blubber.

And once they were out hunting as usual, and now and again they got a bear, so that they frequently ate bear's meat. And they came home with a whole bear. The old woman received a piece from the ribs as her share, and took it home to her house. After she had come home to her house, the wife of the man who had killed the bear came to the window and said:

"Dear little old woman in there, would you like to have a bear's cub?"

John Connors and the Fairies

From: Tales of the Fairies and of the Ghost World, by Jeremiah Curtin

There was a man named John Connors, who lived near Killarney, and was the father of seven small children, all daughters and no sons. Connors fell into such rage and anger at having so many daughters, without any sons, that when the seventh daughter was born he would not come from the field to see the mother or the child.


When the time came for christening he wouldn't go for sponsors, and didn't care whether the wife lived or died. A couple of years after that a son was born to him, and some of the women ran to the field and told John Connors that he was the father of a fine boy. Connors was so delighted that he caught the spade he had with him and broke it on the ditch. He hurried home then and sent for bread and meat, with provisions of all kinds to supply the house.

Master and Pupil (or the Devil Outwitted)

From: Georgian Folk Tales, by Marjory Wardrop

Once upon a time there was a poor peasant who had one son. And it came to pass that his wife said to him: 'He should learn some trade, for when he is separated from thee, what will he do if he is left ignorant like thee?' The wife importuned him; she gave him no rest. So the peasant took his child, and went to seek a master for him. On the way they were thirsty. He saw a rivulet, drank eagerly till his thirst was quenched, and when he lifted up his head he cried out: 'Ah! how good thou art!' 1 On saying this, there came forth from the water a devil in the form of a man, and said to the peasant: 'What dost thou want, O man! I am Vakhraca; what troubles thee?' The peasant told him all his story. The devil, when he learnt this, said: 'Give me this son of thine: I will teach him for one year, then come hither; if thou knowest him, it is well, he will go with thee; if not, he is mine and mine alone, he shall be lost to thee.'


Now this devil had other children to bring up on thesame conditions; and, since in a year children change so much that their parents may no longer know them, the devil always had the best of it. The peasant knew nothing about this; he agreed to the proposal, and went home. A year passed by, and the father of the child came to the devil; he did not find the devil at home. He saw in the courtyard a multitude of boys, and looked again and again, but could not recognise his boy. He was sad. However, his own son came up and knew him. Then the boy said: 'Presently my instructor will come; he will turn us all into doves, and we shall fly away; in the flight I shall fly before all, and in the return I shall be behind all; and when my master asks thee which is thy son, thou wilt point to me.' The peasant rejoiced, and awaited the master with a hopeful heart. In a little while the master appeared. He called his pupils, turned them into doves, and ordered them to fly away. The peasant's son flew before all, and when they returned remained behind. The master inquired: 'Now, dost thou know which is thy son?' The peasant pointed him out. The devil was enraged when he perceived the trick his pupil had played him, but what did it matter! The boy left him.

The Story of the First Hummingbird

From: The Book of Nature Myths, by Florence Holbrook


Part I. The Great Fire-Mountain


Long, long ago, when the earth was very young, two hunters were traveling through the forest. They had been on the track of a deer for many days, and they were now far away from the village where they lived. The sun went down and night came on. It was dark and gloomy, but over in the western sky there came a bright light.

"It is the moon," said one.

"No," said the other. "We have watched many and many a night to see the great, round moon rise above the trees. That is not the moon. Is it the northern lights?"

"No, the northern lights are not like this, and it is not a comet. What can it be?"

The Lion and the Crane

From: Indian Fairy Tales, by Joseph Jacobs

The Bodhisatta was at one time born in the region of Himavanta as a white crane; now Brahmadatta was at that time reigning in Benares. Now it chanced that as a lion was eating meat a bone stuck in his throat. The throat became swollen, he could not take food, his suffering was terrible. The crane seeing him, as he was perched on a tree looking for food, asked, "What ails thee, friend?" He told him why. "I could free thee from that bone, friend, but dare not enter thy mouth for fear thou mightest eat me." "Don't be afraid, friend, I'll not eat thee; only save my life." "Very well," says he, and caused him to lie down on his left side. But thinking to himself, "Who knows what this fellow will do?" he placed a small stick upright between his two jaws that he could not close his mouth, and inserting his head inside his mouth struck one end of the bone with his beak. Whereupon the bone dropped and fell out. As soon as he had caused the bone to fall, he got out of the lion's mouth, striking the stick with his beak so that it fell out, and then settled on a branch. The lion gets well, and one day was eating a buffalo he had killed. The crane, thinking 'I will sound him," settled on a branch just over him, and in conversation spoke this first verse:

Punchkin

From: Old Deccan Days, by Mary Frere

Once upon a time there was a Rajali who had seven beautiful daughters. They were all good girls; but the youngest, named Balna, was more clever than the rest. The Rajah's wife died when they were quite little children, so these seven poor Princesses were left with no mother to take care of them.


The Rajah's daughters took it by turns to cook their father's dinner every day, whilst he was absent deliberating with his Ministers on the affairs of the nation.

About this time the Prudhan died, leaving a widow and one daughter; and every day, every day, when the seven Princesses were preparing their father's dinner, the Prudhan's widow and daughter would come and beg for a little fire from the hearth. Then Balna used to say to her sisters, 'Send that woman away; send her away. Let her get the fire at her own house. What does shc want with ours? If we allow her to come here we shall suffer for it some day.' But the other sisters would answer, 'Be quiet Balna; why must you always be quarrelling with this pooi woman? Let her take some fire if she likes.' Then the Prudhan's widow used to go to the hearth and take a few sticks from it and whilst no one was looking, she would quickly throw some mud into the midst of the dishes which were being prepared fo the Rajah's dinner.