how to tell stories to children-第26节

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Zelia　and　Prince　Cherry　fell　at　the　fairy's　feet。　　But　with　a　beautiful　smile　she　bade　them　come　to　their　kingdom。　　In　a　trice；　they　were　transported　to　the　Prince's　palace；　where　King　Suliman　greeted　them　with　tears　of　joy。　　He　gave　back　the　throne；　with　all　his　heart；　and　King　Cherry　ruled　again；　with　Zelia　for　his　queen。

He　wore　the　little　gold　ring　all　the　rest　of　his　life；　but　never　once　did　it　have　to　prick　him　hard　enough　to　make　his　finger　bleed。



THE　GOLD　IN　THE　ORCHARD＇1＇

＇1＇　An　Italian　folk　tale。


There　was　once　a　farmer　who　had　a　fine　olive　orchard。　　He　was　very　industrious；　and　the　farm　always　prospered　under　his　care。　　But　he　knew　that　his　three　sons　despised　the　farm　work；　and　were　eager　to　make　wealth　fast；　through　adventure。

When　the　farmer　was　old；　and　felt　that　his　time　had　come　to　die；　he　called　the　three　sons　to　him　and　said；　〃My　sons；　there　is　a　pot　of　gold　hidden　in　the　olive　orchard。　　Dig　for　it；　if　you　wish　it。〃

The　sons　tried　to　get　him　to　tell　them　in　what　part　of　the　orchard　the　gold　was　hidden；　but　he　would　tell　them　nothing　more。

After　the　farmer　was　dead；　the　sons　went　to　work　to　find　the　pot　of　gold；　since　they　did　not　know　where　the　hiding…place　was；　they　agreed　to　begin　in　a　line；　at　one　end　of　the　orchard；　and　to　dig　until　one　of　them　should　find　the　money。

They　dug　until　they　had　turned　up　the　　soil　from　one　end　of　the　orchard　to　the　other；　round　the　tree…roots　and　between　them。　　But　no　pot　of　gold　was　to　be　found。　It　seemed　as　if　some　one　must　have　stolen　it；　or　as　if　the　farmer　had　been　wandering　in　his　wits。　　The　three　sons　were　bitterly　disappointed　to　have　all　their　work　for　nothing。

The　next　olive　season；　the　olive　trees　in　the　orchard　bore　more　fruit　than　they　had　ever　given；　the　fine　cultivating　they　had　had　from　the　digging　brought　so　much　fruit；　and　of　so　fine　a　quality；　that　when　it　was　sold　it　gave　the　sons　a　whole　pot　of　gold！

And　when　they　saw　how　much　money　had　come　from　the　orchard；　they　suddenly　understood　what　the　wise　father　had　meant　when　he　said；　〃There　is　gold　hidden　in　the　orchard；　dig　for　it。〃



MARGARET　OF　NEW　ORLEANS


If　you　ever　go　to　the　beautiful　city　of　New　Orleans；　somebody　will　be　sure　to　take　you　down　into　the　old　business　part　of　the　city；　where　there　are　banks　　and　shops　and　hotels；　and　show　you　a　statue　which　stands　in　a　little　square　there。　It　is　the　statue　of　a　woman；　sitting　in　a　low　chair；　with　her　arms　around　a　child；　who　leans　against　her。　　The　woman　is　not　at　all　pretty：　she　wears　thick；　common　shoes；　a　plain　dress；　with　a　little　shawl；　and　a　sun…bonnet；　she　is　stout　and　short；　and　her　face　is　a　square…chinned　Irish　face；　but　her　eyes　look　at　you　like　your　mother's。

Now　there　is　something　very　surprising　about　this　statue：　it　was　the　first　one　that　was　ever　made　in　this　country　in　honor　of　a　woman。　　Even　in　old　Europe　there　are　not　many　monuments　to　women；　and　most　of　the　few　are　to　great　queens　or　princesses；　very　beautiful　and　very　richly　dressed。　You　see；　this　statue　in　New　Orleans　is　not　quite　like　anything　else。

It　is　the　statue　of　a　woman　named　Margaret。　　Her　whole　name　was　Margaret　Haughery；　but　no　one　in　New　Orleans　remembers　her　by　it；　any　more　than　you　think　of　your　dearest　sister　by　her　full　name；　she　is　just　Margaret。　　This　is　her　story；　and　it　tells　why　people　made　a　monument　for　her。

When　Margaret　was　a　tiny　baby；　her　father　and　mother　died；　and　she　was　adopted　by　two　young　people　as　poor　and　as　kind　as　her　own　parents。　　She　lived　with　them　until　she　grew　up。　　Then　she　married；　and　had　a　little　baby　of　her　own。　　But　very　soon　her　husband　died；　and　then　the　baby　died；　too；　and　Margaret　was　all　alone　in　the　world。　　She　was　poor；　but　she　was　strong；　and　knew　how　to　work。

All　day；　from　morning　until　evening；　she　ironed　clothes　in　a　laundry。　　And　every　day；　as　she　worked　by　the　window；　she　saw　the　little　motherless　children　from　the　orphan　asylum；　near　by；　working　and　playing　about。　　After　a　while；　there　came　a　great　sickness　upon　the　city；　and　so　many　mothers　and　fathers　died　that　there　were　more　orphans　than　the　asylum　could　possibly　take　care　of。　　They　needed　a　good　friend；　now。　　You　would　hardly　think；　would　you；　that　a　poor　woman　who　worked　in　a　laundry　could　be　much　of　a　friend　to　them？　　But　Margaret　was。　　She　went　straight　to　the　kind　Sisters　who　had　the　asylum　and　told　them　she　was　going　to　give　them　part　of　her　wages　and　was　　going　to　work　for　them；　besides。　　Pretty　soon　she　had　worked　so　hard　that　she　had　some　money　saved　from　her　wages。　　With　this；　she　bought　two　cows　and　a　little　delivery　cart。　　Then　she　carried　her　milk　to　her　customers　in　the　little　cart　every　morning；　and　as　she　went；　she　begged　the　left…over　food　from　the　hotels　and　rich　houses；　and　brought　it　back　in　the　cart　to　the　hungry　children　in　the　asylum。　　In　the　very　hardest　times　that　was　often　all　the　food　the　children　had。

A　part　of　the　money　Margaret　earned　went　every　week　to　the　asylum；　and　after　a　few　years　that　was　made　very　much　larger　and　better。　　And　Margaret　was　so　careful　and　so　good　at　business　that；　in　spite　of　her　giving；　she　bought　more　cows　and　earned　more　money。　　With　this；　she　built　a　home　for　orphan　babies；　she　called　it　her　baby　house。

After　a　time；　Margaret　had　a　chance　to　get　a　bakery；　and　then　she　became　a　bread…woman　instead　of　a　milk…woman。　She　carried　the　bread　just　as　she　had　carried　the　milk；　in　her　cart。　　And　still　she　kept　giving　money　to　the　asylum。　　Then　　the　great　war　came；　our　Civil　War。　　In　all　the　trouble　and　sickness　and　fear　of　that　time；　Margaret　drove　her　cart　of　bread；　and　somehow　she　had　always　enough　to　give　the　starving　soldiers；　and　for　her　babies；　besides　what　she　sold。　　And　despite　all　this；　she　earned　enough　so　that　when　the　war　was　over　she　built　a　big　steam　factory　for　her　bread。　　By　this　time　everybody　in　the　city　knew　her。　　The　children　all　over　the　city　loved　her；　the　business　men　were　proud　of　her；　the　poor　people　all　came　to　her　for　advice。　　She　used　to　sit　at　the　open　door　of　her　office；　in　a　calico　gown　and　a　little　shawl；　and　give　a　good　word　to　everybody；　rich　or　poor。

Then；　by　and　by；　one　day；　Margaret　died。　　And　when　it　was　time　to　read　her　will；　the　people　found　that；　with　all　her　giving；　she　had　still　saved　a　great　deal　of　money；　and　that　she　had　left　every　cent　of　it　to　the　different　orphan　asylums　of　the　city；each　one　of　them　was　given　something。　　Whether　they　were　for　white　children　or　black；　for　Jews；　Catholics；　or　Protestants；　made　no　difference；　for　Margaret　always　said；　〃They　are　all　orphans　alike。〃　　And　just　think；　dears；　that　splendid；　wise　will　was　signed　with　a　cross　instead　of　a　name；　for　Margaret　had　never　learned　to　read　or　write！

When　the　people　of　New　Orleans　knew　that　Margaret　was　dead；　they　said；　〃She　was　a　mother　to　the　motherless；　she　was　a　friend　to　those　who　had　no　friends；　she　had　wisdom　greater　than　schools　can　teach；　we　will　not　let　her　memory　go　from　us。〃　　So　they　made　a　statue　of　her；　just　as　she　used　to　look；　sitting　in　her　own　office　door；　or　driving　in　her　own　little　cart。　　And　there　it　stands　to…day；　in　memory　of　the　great　love　and　the　great　power　of　plain　Margaret　Haughery；　of　New　Orleans。



THE　DAGDA'S　HARP＇1＇

＇1＇　The　facts　from　which　this　story　was　constructed　are　found　in　the　legend　as　given　in　Ireland's　Story；　Johnston　and　Spencer　（Houghton；　Mifflin；　&　Co。）。


You　know；　dears；　in　the　old　countries　there　are　many　fine　stories　about　things　which　happened　so　very　long　ago　that　nobody　knows　exactly　how　much　of　them　is　　true。　　Ireland　is　like　that。　　It　is　so　old　that　even　as　long　ago　as　four　thousand　years　it　had　people　who　dug　in　the　mines；　and　knew　how　to　weave　cloth　and　to　make　beautiful　ornaments　out　of　gold；　and　who　could　fight　and　make　laws；　but　we　do　not　know　just　where　they　came　from；　nor　exactly　how　they　lived。　　These　people　left　us　some　splendid　stories　about　their　kings；　their　fights；　and　their　beautiful　women；　but　it　all　happened　such　a　long　time　ago　that　the　stories　are　mixtures　of　things　that　really　happened　and　what　people　said　about　them；　and　we　don't　know　just　which　is　which。　　The　stories　are　called　LEGENDS。　　One　of　the　prettiest　legends　is　the　story　I　am　going　to　tell　you　about　the　Dagda's　harp。

It　is　said　that　there　were　two　quite　different　kinds　of　people　in　Ireland：　one　set　of　people　with　long　dark　hair　and　dark　eyes；　called　Fomoriansthey　carried　long　slender　spears　made　of　golden　bronze　when　they　foughtand　another　race　of　people　who　were　golden…haired　and　blue…　eyed；　and　who　carried　short；　blunt；　heavy　spears　of　dull　metal。

The　golden…haired　people　had　a　great　　chieftain　who　was　also　a　kind　of　high　priest；　who　was　called　the　Dagda。　　And　this　Dagda　had　a　wonderful　magic　harp。　The　harp　was　beautiful　to　look　upon；　mighty　in　size；　made　of　rare　wood；　and　ornamented　with　gold　and　jewels；　and　it　had　wonderful　music　in　its　strings；　which　only　the　Dagda　could　call　out。　　When　the　men　were　going　out　to　battle；　the　Dagda　would　set　up　his　magic　harp　and　sweep　his　hand　across　the　strings；　and　a　war　song　would　ring　out　which　would　make　every　warrior　buckle　on　his　armor；　brace　his　knees；　and　shout；　〃Forth　to　the　fight！〃　Then；　when　the　men　came　back　from　the　battle；　weary　and　wounded；　the　Dagda