The Little Red Hen

THE LITTLE RED HEN

Following is the story telling for your little brother or your children.
   The little Red Hen was in the farmyard with her chickens, when she found a grain of wheat.

   ``Who will plant this wheat?'' she said.

   ``Not I,'' said the Goose.

   ``Not I,'' said the Duck.

   ``I will, then,'' said the little Red Hen, and she planted the grain of wheat.

   When the wheat was ripe she said, ``Who will take this wheat to the mill?''

   ``Not I,'' said the Goose.

   ``Not I,'' said the Duck.

   ``I will, then,'' said the little Red Hen, and she took the wheat to the mill.

   When she brought the flour home she said, ``Who will make some bread with this flour?''

   ``Not I,'' said the Goose.

   ``Not I,'' said the Duck.

   ``I will, then,'' said the little Red Hen

   When the bread was baked, she said, ``Who will eat this bread?''

   ``I will,'' said the Goose

   ``I will,'' said the Duck

   ``No, you won't,'' said the little Red Hen. ``I shall eat it myself. Cluck! cluck!'' And she called her chickens to help her.

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The Cloud

THE CLOUD

Adapted from the German of Robert Reinick's Mäarchen, Lieder-und Geschichtenbuch 

(Velhagen und Klasing, Bielefeld and Leipsic).

Here is the story for your children or your little brother or sister.

   One hot summer morning a little Cloud rose out of the sea and floated lightly and happily across the blue sky. Far below lay the earth, brown, dry, and desolate, from drouth. The little Cloud could see the poor people of the earth working and suffering in the hot fields, while she herself floated on the morning breeze, hither and thither, without a care.

   ``Oh, if I could only help the poor people down there!'' she thought. ``If I could but make their work easier, or give the hungry ones food, or the thirsty a drink!''

   And as the day passed, and the Cloud became larger, this wish to do something for the people of earth was ever greater in her heart.

   On earth it grew hotter and hotter; the sun burned down so fiercely that the people were fainting in its rays; it seemed as if they must die of heat, and yet they were obliged to go on with their work, for they were very poor. Sometimes they stood and looked up at the Cloud, as if they were praying, and saying,

   ``Ah, if you could help us!''

   ``I will help you; I will!'' said the Cloud. And she began to sink softly down toward the earth.

   But suddenly, as she floated down, she remembered something which had been told her when she was a tiny Cloud-child, in the lap of Mother Ocean: it had been whispered that if the Clouds go too near the earth they die.

When she remembered this she held herself from sinking, and swayed here and there on the breeze, thinking, -- thinking. But at last she stood quite still, and spoke boldly and proudly. She said,

   ``Men of earth, I will help you, come what may!''

   The thought made her suddenly marvelously big and strong and powerful. Never had she dreamed that she could be so big. Like a mighty angel of blessing she stood above the earth, and lifted her head and spread her wings far over the fields and woods. She was so great, so majestic, that men and animals were awe-struck at the sight; the trees and the grasses bowed before her; yet all the earth-creatures felt that she meant them well.

   ``Yes, I will help you,'' cried the Cloud once more. ``Take me to yourselves; I will give my life for you!''

   As she said the words a wonderful light glowed from her heart, the sound of thunder rolled through the sky, and a love greater than words can tell filled the Cloud; down, down, close to the earth she swept, and gave up her life in a blessed, healing shower of rain.

   That rain was the Cloud's great deed; it was her death, too; but it was also her glory. Over the whole country-side, as far as the rain fell, a lovely rainbow sprang its arch, and all the brightest rays of heaven made its colors; it was the last greeting of a love so great that it sacrificed itself.

   Soon that, too, was gone, but long, long afterward the men and animals who were saved by the Cloud kept her blessing in their hearts.

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The Little Pink Rose

The Story of The Little Pink Rose

   Once upon a time, there was a little pink Rosebud, and she lived down in a little dark house under the ground. One day she was sitting there, all by herself, and it was very still. Suddenly, she heard a little tap, tap, tap, at the door.

   ``Who is that?'' she said.

   ``It's the Rain, and I want to come in;'' said a soft, sad, little voice.

   ``No, you can't come in,'' the little Rosebud said.

   By and by she heard another little tap, tap, tap on the window pane.

   ``Who is there?'' she said.

   The same soft little voice answered, ``It's the Rain, and I want to come in!''

   ``No, you can't come in,'' said the little Rosebud.

   Then it was very still for a long time. At last, there came a little rustling, whispering sound, all round the window: rustle, whisper, whisper.

   ``Who is there?'' said the little Rosebud.

   ``It's the Sunshine,'' said a little, soft, cheery voice, ``and I want to come in!''

   ``N -- no,'' said the little pink rose, ``you can't come in.'' And she sat still again.

   Pretty soon she heard the sweet little rustling noise at the key-hole.

   ``Who is there?'' she said.

   ``It's the Sunshine,'' said the cheery little voice, ``and I want to come in, I want to come in!''

   ``No, no,'' said the little pink rose, ``you cannot come in.''

   By and by, as she sat so still, she heard tap, tap, tap, and rustle, whisper, rustle, all up and down the window pane, and on the door, and at the key-hole.

   ``Who is there?'' she said.

   ``It's the Rain and the Sun, the Rain and the Sun,'' said two little voices, together, ``and we want to come in! We want to come in! We want to come in!''

   ``Dear, dear!'' said the little Rosebud, ``if there are two of you, I s'pose I shall have to let you in.''

   So she opened the door a little wee crack, and in they came. And one took one of her little hands, and the other took her other little hand, and they ran, ran, ran with her, right up to the top of the ground. Then they said, --

   ``Poke your head through!''

   So she poked her head through; and she was in the midst of a beautiful garden.

It was springtime, and all the other flowers had their heads poked through; and she was the prettiest little pink rose in the whole garden!

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