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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Lebensstil
- Sprache: Englisch
In "Tales of Laughter," a captivating anthology curated by various authors, readers embark on a whimsical journey through the world of humor in literature. This collection features a rich tapestry of comedic narratives, employing diverse literary styles that range from sharp wit to gentle satire. The stories deftly navigate the intricacies of human experience, illuminating both the absurdities and joys of life, all while engaging readers with vibrant prose and clever plot twists. Set against a backdrop that spans different cultures and historical contexts, the anthology offers a panoramic view of laughter as a universal language, making it an essential read for those interested in the cultural implications of humor in literature. The contributing authors of "Tales of Laughter" each bring unique perspectives and voices, shaped by their varied backgrounds and experiences. Many are celebrated writers whose works dissect the human condition through humor, while others are emerging voices eager to explore the boundaries of comedic storytelling. Their collective expertise enriches the anthology, allowing it to stand as a testament to the transformative power of humor in fostering resilience and connection amidst life'Äôs challenges. A delightful addition to any literary collection, "Tales of Laughter" offers not just entertainment but also a profound reflection on the shared human experience. This anthology is recommended for readers who seek to escape into a world filled with joy and amusement while gaining insights into the cultural nuances of humor. Whether seeking a lighthearted read or an intellectual exploration of comedy, this book promises to leave a lasting impression of laughter.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
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Tales of Laughter
Table of Contents
The Rats and their Son-in-Law
There once lived in Japan a rat and his wife, folk of noble race, who had one beautiful daughter. They were exceedingly proud of her charms, and dreamed, as parents will, of the grand marriage she was sure to make in time. Proud of his pure rodent blood, the father saw no son-in-law more to be desired than a young rat of ancient lineage, whose attentions to his daughter were very marked. This match, however, brilliant as it was, seemed not to the mother’s taste. Like many people who think themselves made out of special clay, she had a very poor opinion of her own kind, and was ambitious for an alliance with the highest circles. Ad astra! (To the stars!) was her motto, she always said, and really, when one has a daughter of incomparable beauty, one may well hope for an equally incomparable son-in-law.
“Address yourself to the sun at once, then,” cried the impatient father one day; “there is nothing above him, surely.”
“Quite so; I had already thought of it,” she answered, “and since you, too, are in sympathy with the idea, we will make our call to-morrow.”
So, on the following morning the proud father and the haughty mother-rat went together to present their lovely daughter to the orb of day.
“Lord Sun,” said the mother, “let me present our only daughter, who is so beautiful that there is nothing like her in the whole world. Naturally we desire a son-in-law as wonderful as she, and, as you see, we have come to you first of all.”
“Really,” said the sun, “I am extremely flattered by your proposal, but you do me too much honor; there is some one greater than I; it is the cloud. Look, if you do not believe.” ... And at that moment the cloud arrived, and with one waft of his folds extinguished the sun with all his golden rays.
“Very well; let us speak to the cloud, then,” said the mother-rat, not in the least disconcerted.
“Immensely honored, I am sure,” replied the cloud in his turn, “but you are again mistaken; there is some one greater than I; it is the wind. You shall see.”
At the same moment along came the wind, and with one blow swept the cloud out of sight, after which, overturning father, mother, and daughter, he tumbled with them, pell-mell, at the foot of an old wall.
“Quick, quick,” cried the mother-rat, struggling to her feet, “and let us repeat our compliments to the wind.”
“You’d better address yourself to the wall,” growled the wind roughly. “You see very well he is greater than I, for he stops me and makes me draw back.”
No sooner had she heard these words than mother-rat faced about and presented her daughter to the wall. Ah, but now the fair rat-maiden imitated the wind; she drew back also. He whom she really adored in her heart of hearts was the fascinating young rat who had paid his court to her so well. However, to please her mother, she had consented to wed the sun, in spite of his blinding rays, or the cloud, in spite of his sulky look, even the wind, in spite of his brusque manner; but an old, broken wall!... No! death would be better a thousand times.
Fortunately the wall excused himself, like all the rest. “Certainly,” he said, “I can stop the wind, who can sweep away the cloud, who can cover up the sun, but there is some one greater than I: it is the rat, who can pass through my body, and can even, if he chooses, reduce me to powder with his teeth. Believe me, you need seek no better son-in-law; greater than the rat, there is nothing in the world.”
“Do you hear that, wife, do you hear it?” cried father-rat in triumph. “Didn’t I always say so?”
“Quite true! you always did,” returned the mother-rat in wonder, and suddenly glowed with pride in her ancient name and lineage.
So they all three went home, very happy and contented, and on the morrow the lovely rat-maiden married her faithful rat-lover.
The Mouse and the Sausage
Once upon a time a little mouse and a little sausage, who loved each other like sisters, decided to live together, and made their arrangements in such a way that every day one would go to walk in the fields, or make purchases in town, while the other remained at home to keep the house.
One day, when the little sausage had prepared cabbage for dinner, the little mouse, who had come back from town with a fine appetite, enjoyed it so greatly that she exclaimed: “How delicious the cabbage is to-day, my dear!”
“Ah!” answered the little sausage, “that is because I popped myself into the pot while it was cooking.”
On the next day, as it was her turn to prepare the meals, the little mouse said to herself: “Now I will do as much for my friend as she did for me; we will have lentils for dinner, and I will jump into the pot while they are boiling,” and she let the action follow the word, without reflecting that a simple sausage can do some things which are out of the reach of even the wisest mouse.
When the sausage came home, she found the house lonely and silent. She called again and again, “My little mouse! Mouse of my heart!” but no one answered. Then she went to look at the lentils boiling on the stove, and, alas! found within the pot her good little friend, who had perished at the post of duty.
Poor mousie, with the best intentions in the world, had stayed too long at her cookery, and when she desired to climb out of the pot, had no longer the strength to do so.
And the poor sausage could never be consoled! That is why to-day, when you put one in the pan or on the gridiron, you will hear her weep and sigh, “M-my p-poor m-mouse! Ah, m-my p-poor m-mouse!”
The Three Wishes
Many years ago there was an old married man, who, although poor, had worked very diligently all his life on his little piece of ground. One winter’s night, as this old man was seated with his wife in front of their comfortable hearth in social chat, instead of giving thanks to God for the benefits they enjoyed, they spent the time in enumerating the good things possessed by their neighbors, and in wishing that they belonged to them.
“Instead of my little hut, which is on bad soil, and only fit to house a donkey in, I would like to have the farm of old Polainas!” exclaimed the old man.
“And I,” added his wife, who was annoyed that he did not aspire higher, “instead of that, would like to have our neighbor’s house, which is nearly new.”
“And I,” continued her husband, “instead of our old donkey, which can scarcely carry an empty sack, would like to have Polainas’s mule!”
“And I,” exclaimed the wife, “would like to have such a fat porker as our neighbor has to kill! Some people seem only to wish for a thing in order to get it. How I should like to see my wishes accomplished!”
Scarcely had she uttered these words, than they beheld a most beautiful little woman standing in front of the fire. She was so small that her height could not have been more than eighteen inches, while she wore a crown like a queen’s upon her head. Her tunic and veil were almost transparent, and seemed made of white smoke, while the sparks from the fire crackled and jumped like fireworks about her, and sparkled around her as glittering spangles.
In her hand she bore a little golden scepter, the end of which was formed by a gleaming ruby.
“I am the Fairy Fortunata,” said she to them; “I was passing by here, and I have heard your complaints. I have so much anxiety to accomplish your desires that I come to promise you the realization of three wishes: one to you,” she said to the wife; “the other to you,” to the husband, “and the third must be mutual and agreeable to the desire of you both. This last I will agree to in person to-morrow, when I will return at this time; and until then I leave you to think of what it shall be.”
When she had said these words, the beautiful fairy sprang through the flames and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
The delight of the worthy couple may be imagined, and the number of wishes, numerous as suitors at the door of a minister, which presented themselves to their minds. Their desires were so many that, not knowing which to select, they determined to defer the definite decision to the following day. After having had all the night to think the matter over, they began to discuss entirely different things, and in a little while their conversation recurred to their wealthy neighbors.
“I was at their house to-day,” said the husband; “they were making black puddings. Ah, such black puddings! It would have done you good to see them!”
“I would like to have one of them here,” replied the wife, “to roast on the ashes for supper.”
Scarcely had she uttered the words than there appeared upon the ashes the most delicious-looking black pudding that could possibly be imagined.
The woman remained staring at it with open mouth and eyes starting out of her head. But her husband jumped up in despair, and after striding up and down the room, tearing his hair in desperation, said: “Through your gluttony, you greedy woman, we have lost one of the wishes! Good Heavens, what a woman this is! More stupid than a goose! It makes me desperate; I detest you and the black pudding, too, and I wish it were stuck on to your nose!”
No sooner had he spoken than there was the black pudding hanging from the place indicated!
Then was the old man struck with horror and his wife with desperation!
“You see what you have done, evil tongue!” exclaimed she, as she made useless exertions to tear the appendage from her nose; “if I employed my wish badly, at least it was to my own disadvantage, and not to the injury of any one else; but the sin carries its punishment with it, for I will not have any other wish, nor desire anything else than that the black pudding be taken off my nose.”
“Wife, for Heaven’s sake! What of the new house?”
“Nothing!”
“Wife, for Heaven’s sake, think of the farm!”
“It does not matter.”
“My dear, let us wish for a fortune, and then we will have a golden case for the black pudding.”
“I will not hear of it.”
“Then you would have us left just as we were before?”
“That is all that I wish for.”
And for all that the man could say, nothing could alter his wife’s determination, who grew more and more enraged with her double nose, and could scarcely keep off the dog and the cat, who both wished to make free with it.
When, on the following night, the fairy appeared and asked them what was their last wish, they said to her: “We see how blind and foolish it is of men to fancy that the realization of their wishes will make them happy.”
Nor is happiness in the accomplishment of our wishes, but rather in the not having any. He is rich who possesses what he wants; but happy is he who wishes for nothing.
The Fox and the Goose
A fox and a goose were very great friends. The goose, which, as you know, is a very honest and industrious bird, said to the fox:
“Friend fox, I have a little bit of property here, and if you like to join with me, we will cultivate it between us.”
“That would greatly please me,” answered the fox.
“Then it will be necessary to till it together when the season arrives,” said the goose.
“Very well,” replied the fox.
A little afterward, when they met, the goose said:
“It is time to sow the seed.”
“That is your business,” said the fox. “I have nothing to do with that.”
Some months passed, when the goose said to the fox:
“Friend, the grass is choking the wheat; it is necessary to weed the field.”
“Very well,” answered the fox, “you see to that; it is not my business.”
A short time passed by, when the goose said to the fox:
“Friend, the wheat is ripe, and must be reaped.”
“All right,” replied the fox, “you attend to that; it is not my business.”
Then the goose, for all her good nature, began to be distrustful, and told her friend the greyhound what had passed.
The greyhound, who was very shrewd, saw at once that the fox was going to play off one of his tricks upon the goose’s good nature, and said to her:
“Reap the wheat; put it in the barn, and hide me in a sheaf of corn, without leaving more than one eye uncovered, so that I may see all that may happen.”
The goose did as the greyhound had said, and after a time the fox arrived, and when he saw the barn filled with splendid wheat already thrashed, he was very delighted, and, dancing about, sang:
As he said this, he approached the sheaf in which the greyhound was concealed, and on seeing the eye among the straw, cried:
“Ah, there’s a grape!”
“But it is not ripe,” replied the greyhound, as he leaped out of his hiding place, and killed the fox.
If Heaven Will It
Once upon a time a Galician was returning to his home after having spent some time in Seville. When he was close to his abode, he met some one who inquired where he was going.
“To my native place,” replied the Galician.
“If Heaven will it,” answered the former.
“Whether Heaven will it or no,” added the Galician to himself, already seeing his village from afar, and being only separated from its outskirts by a river.
Scarcely had he muttered the words ere he fell into the water and was changed into a frog.
In this condition the poor man lived for three years, being in continual danger from his spiteful foes, bad boys, leeches, and storks. At the end of three years another Galician returning home happened to pass by there, and a wayfarer chancing to ask him whither he was going, replied:
“To my native place.”
“If Heaven will it,” croaked a frog that poked its head up out of the water.
And when it had said this, the frog, which was the first Galician of the tale, suddenly found itself once more a man.
He went on his way gayer than Easter, and having met with another traveler, who asked him whither he went, he answered him:
“To my own place, if Heaven will it; to see my wife, if Heaven will it; to see my children, if Heaven will it; to see my cow, if Heaven will it; to sow my land, if Heaven will it; so that I may get a good harvest from it, if Heaven will it.”
And as he religiously added to everything, “If Heaven will it,” he was allowed to see his wishes accomplished. He found his wife and children well; his cow became the mother of a fine calf; he sowed his field, and reaped a good harvest, and all because Heaven willed it.
The Booby
An ignorant man who associates with clever people has always been more praised than a wise man who keeps the company of fools, for as much profit and fame as a man gains from the former, so much wealth and honor one may lose by the fault of the latter, and as the proof of the pudding is in the eating, you will know from the story that I am going to tell you whether my proposition is true.
There was once a man who was as rich as the sea, but as there never can be any perfect happiness in this world, he had a son so idle and good-for-nothing that he could not tell a carob from a cucumber. So, being unable any longer to put up with his folly, he gave him a good handful of crowns, and sent him to travel to the Levant, for he well knew that seeing various countries and mixing with divers people works genius, sharpens the judgment, and makes men expert.
Moscione (for that was the name of the son) got on horseback and began his journey toward Venice, the arsenal of the wonders of the world, to embark on board some vessel bound for Cairo, and when he had traveled a good day’s journey he met with a person who was standing fixed at the foot of a poplar, to whom he said: “What is your name, my lad, whence are you, and what is your trade?” And the lad replied: “My name is Lightning, I am from Arrowland, and I can run like the wind.” “I should like to see a proof of it,” said Moscione, and Lightning answered, “Wait a moment, and you will see whether it is dust or flour.”
When they had stood waiting a little while a doe came bounding over the plain, and Lightning, letting her pass on some way, to give himself a handicap, darted after her so rapidly and light of foot that he would have gone over plains covered with flour without leaving the mark of his shoe, and in four bounds he came up with her. Moscione, amazed at this exploit, asked if he would come and live with him, and promised to pay him a salary.
So Lightning consented, and they went on their way together, but they had not journeyed many miles when they met another youth, to whom Moscione said: “What is your name, comrade, what country are you from, and what’s your trade?” “My name,” replied the lad, “is Hare’s-ear, I am from Vale Curious, and when I put my ear to the ground I hear all that is passing in the world without stirring from the spot. I perceive the monopolies and the agreements of tradespeople to raise the prices of all things, the ill-offices of courtiers, the appointments of lawyers, the plots of robbers, the reports of spies, the complaints of servants, the gossiping of old women, and the oaths of service, so that neither Lucian’s cocks nor Francois’s lantern discovered so much as my ears can.”
“If that be true,” said Moscione, “tell me what they are saying at my home.”
So the lad put his ear to the ground, and replied: “An old man is talking to his wife and saying, ‘Praised be Sol in Lea, I have got rid from my side of that fellow, Moscione, that nail in my heart, with his face of old-fashioned crockery. By traveling through the world he will at least become a man, and no longer be such a stupid donkey, such a simpleton, such a lose-the-day fellow, such a——‘”
“Stop, stop!” cried Moscione. “You told the truth, and I believe you, so come along with me, for you have found the road to good luck.”
“Well and good,” said the youth. So they all went on together and traveled ten miles farther, when they met another man, to whom Moscione said: “My brave fellow, where were you born and what can you do in the world?” And the man answered: “My name is Shoot-straight, I am from Castle Aim-well, and I can shoot with a crossbow so point-blank as to hit a crab-apple in the middle.”
“I should like to see a proof,” said Moscione, so the lad charged his crossbow, took aim, and made a pea leap from the top of the stone window. Moscione took him also, like the others, into his company, and they traveled on another day’s journey, until they came to some people who were building a large pier in the scorching heat of the sun, and who might well say, “Boy, put water to the wind, for my heart is burning.” So Moscione had compassion on them and said, “My masters, how is it you have the heart to stand in this furnace, which is bound to roast a buffalo?” And one of them answered: “Ah! we are as cool as roses, for we have a young man here who blows upon us from behind in such a manner that it seems as if the west wind were blowing.” “Let me see him, I pray,” cried Moscione, and so the mason called the lad, and Moscione said to him: “Tell me, by the life of your father, what is your name, what country are you from, and what is your profession?” And the lad replied: “My name is Blowblast, I am from Windy Land, and I can make all the winds with my mouth. If you wish a zephyr, I will breathe one that will send you into transports. If you wish for a squall, I will blow down houses.”
“Seeing is believing,” said Moscione, whereupon Blowblast breathed at first quite gently, so that it seemed to be the wind that blows in Posilippo toward evening; then, turning suddenly to some trees, he sent forth such a furious blast that it uprooted a row of oaks.
When Moscione saw this he took him for a companion, and, traveling on as far again, he met another lad, to whom he said: “What is your name, if I may make so bold? Whence are you, if one may ask, and what is your trade, if it is a fair question?” And the lad answered, “My name is Strongback, I am from Valentino, and I have such strength that I take a mountain on my back, and it seems to me a mere feather.” “If that be the case,” said Moscione, “you deserve to be a king of the custom house, and you should be chosen for the standard-bearer on the first of May, but I should like to see a proof of what you say.” Then Strongback began to load himself with masses of rock, stumps of trees, and so many other weights that a thousand large wagons could not have carried them, so, when Moscione saw the feat, he persuaded the lad to join them.
So they traveled on till they came to Fairflower, the king of which place had a daughter who ran like the wind and could pass over the waving corn without bending an ear, and the king had issued a proclamation that whoever should overtake her in running should have her to wife, but whoever was left behind should lose his head.
Moscione arrived in this country and heard the proclamation. He went straight to the king and offered to run with the daughter, making the wise agreement either to win the race or leave his noddle there. But in the morning he sent to inform the king that he was taken ill, and, being unable to run himself, he would send another man in his place. “Come who will,” said Ciennetella (for that was the king’s daughter), “I care not a fig; it is all one to me.”
So when the great square was filled with people come to see the race, insomuch that the men swarmed like ants, and the windows and roofs were all as full as an egg, Lightning came out and took his stand at the top of the square waiting for the signal, and lo, forth came Ciennetella, dressed in a little gown tucked half-way up to her knees, and a neat and pretty little shoe with a single sole. Then they placed themselves shoulder to shoulder, and, as soon as the Tarantará and the Too-too of the trumpets was heard, off they darted, running at such a rate that their hair touched their shoulders, and in truth they seemed just like foxes with the greyhounds after them, horses broken loose from the stable, dogs with kettles tied to their tails, or jackasses with furze bushes behind them. But Lightning (as he was by name and nature) left the princess more than a hand’s breadth behind him, and came first to the goal. Then you should have heard the buzzing and shouting and cries and the uproar, the whistling and clapping of all the people calling out, “Hurrah, long live the stranger!” whereat Ciennetella’s face turned as red as a schoolboy’s who is going to be whipped, and she stood lost with shame and confusion at seeing herself vanquished. But as there were to be two heats to the race, she fell to planning her revenge for this affront, and, going home, she put a charm in her ring with such a power that if any one had it on his finger, his legs would toddle so that he would not be able to walk, much less to run, and she sent it as a present to Lightning, begging him to wear it on his finger for love of her.
Hare’s-ear, who heard this trick plotted between the father and daughter, said nothing, and wanted to see the upshot of the affair, and when, at the trumpeting of the birds, they returned to the field, at the usual signal they fell to plying their heels. But if Ciennetella was like another Atalanta, Lightning had become like a shoulder-slipped ass and a foundered horse, for he could not stir a step, but Shoot-straight, who saw his coming danger, and heard from Hare’s-ear how matters stood, laid hold on his crossbow and shot the arrow so exactly that it hit Lightning’s finger, and out shot the stone from the ring in which the virtue of the charm lay, whereupon his legs that had been tied were set free, and with four good leaps he passed Ciennetella and won the race. The king, seeing the palm thus carried off by this figure of a blockhead, by a simpleton, the triumph of a fool, bethought himself seriously whether or not he should give him his daughter, and taking counsel with the wiseacres of his court, they replied that Ciennetella was not a mouthful for the tooth of such a miserable dog and lose-the-day bird, so that, without breaking his word, he might commute the terms of his daughter with a gift of crowns, which would be more to the taste of a poor beggar like Moscione than all the women in the world.
This advice pleased the king, and he asked Moscione how much money he would take to consider a wife who had been promised. Then Moscione, after consulting the others, said: “I will take as much gold and silver as one of my comrades can carry on his back.” The king consented, whereupon they brought Strongback, and on him began to lay bales of ducats, large purses full of crowns, pails of copper money, and kettles full of chains and rings, but the more they loaded him the firmer he stood, just like a tower, so that the treasurer, the bankers, the usurers, and the money dealers of the city did not suffice, and the king sent to all of the great people in every direction to borrow their silver candlesticks, basins, jugs, plates, brasses, and baskets, and yet there was not enough to make up a full load. At length Moscione and his companions went away, however, not laden, but tired and satisfied.
When the counselors saw what heaps of stores these four miserable fellows were carrying off, they said to the king that it was a great piece of nonsense to load them with all the sinews of his kingdom, and that it would be well to send people after them to lessen the load of that Atlas who was carrying on his shoulders a world of treasure. The king gave ear to this advice, and immediately despatched a party of armed men, foot and horse, to overtake Moscione and his friends, but Hare’s-ear, who had heard this counsel, informed his comrades, and while the dust was rising to the sky from the tramping of those who were coming to unload the rich cargo, Blowblast, seeing that things were come to a bad pass, began to blow at such a rate that he not only made the enemies fall flat on the ground, but he sent them flying more than a mile distant, as a north wind does those people who pass through his country. So, without meeting any more hindrances, Moscione arrived at his father’s house, where he shared the booty with his companions, since the saying goes, “A good deed deserves a good meed.” So he sent them away content and happy, but he stayed with his father, rich beyond measure, giving no lie to the saying, “Heaven sends biscuits to him who has no teeth.”
The Months
It is a saying worthy to be written in letters as big as those on a catafalque, that silence never harmed any one, and let it not be imagined that those slanderers who never speak well of others, but are always cutting and stinging and pinching and biting, ever gain anything by their malice; for when the bags come to be shaken out, it has always been seen, and is so still, that while the good word gains love and profit, slander brings enmity and ruin, and when you shall have heard how this happens, you will see I speak with reason.
Once upon a time there were two brothers, Cianne, who was as rich as a lord, and Lise, who had barely enough to live upon; but poor as one was in fortune, so pitiful was the other in mind, for he would not have given his brother a farthing were it to save his life; so that poor Lise in despair left his country, and set out to wander over the world. And he wandered on and on, till one wet and cold evening he came to an inn, where he found twelve youths seated around a fire, who, when they saw poor Lise benumbed with cold, partly from the severe season and partly from his ragged clothes, invited him to sit down by the fire.
Lise accepted the invitation, for he needed it greatly, and began to warm himself, and as he was doing so, one of the young men, whose face was such a picture of moroseness as to make you die of affright, said to him: “What think you, countryman, of this weather?”
“What do I think of it?” replied Lise. “I think that all the months of the year perform their duty; but we, who know not what we would have, wish to give less praise to Heaven, and, wanting to have things our own way, we do not fish deeply enough to the bottom to find out whether what comes into our fancy be good or evil, useful or hurtful. In winter when it rains, we want the sun in Leo, and in the month of August the clouds to discharge themselves; not reflecting that were this the case, the seasons would be turned topsy-turvy, the seed sown would be lost, the crops would be destroyed, the bodies of men would faint away, and nature would go head over heels. Therefore, let us leave Heaven to its own course; for it has made the tree to mitigate with wood the severity of winter, and leaves to soften the heat of summer.”
“You speak like Solomon!” said the youth; “but you cannot deny that this month of March, in which we now are, is very impertinent to send all this frost and rain, snow and hail, wind and storm, these fogs and tempests and other troubles, that make one’s life a burden.”
“You tell only the ill of this poor month,” replied Lise, “but do not speak of the benefits it yields to us; for, by bringing forward the spring, it commences the production of things, helps along the cause with the sun, and leads him to the house of the rain.”
The youth was greatly pleased at what Lise said, for he was in truth no other than March himself, who had arrived at that inn with his eleven brothers, and to reward Lise’s goodness, who had not found anything evil to say of a month so sad that the shepherds do not like to mention it, he gave him a beautiful little casket, saying, “Take this, and if you want anything, only ask for it, and, opening this box, you will see it before you.” Lise thanked the youth, with many expressions of respect, and laying the little box under his head by way of a pillow, he went to sleep.
As soon, however, as the sun, with the pencil of his rays, had retouched the dark shadows of the night, Lise took leave of the youth and set out on his way. But he had hardly proceeded fifty steps from the inn, when, opening the casket, he said: “Ah, my friend, I wish I had a litter lined with cloth, and with a little fire inside, that I might travel warm and comfortable through the snow!” No sooner had he uttered the words, than there appeared a litter, with bearers, who, lifting him up, placed him in it; whereupon he told them to carry him home.
When the hour was come for food, Lise opened the little box and said: “I wish for something to eat.” And instantly there appeared a profusion of the choicest food; such a banquet that ten crowned kings might have feasted on it.
One evening, having come to a wood, which did not give admittance to the sun, because he came through suspected places,[1] Lise opened the little casket and said: “I should like to rest tonight on this beautiful spot, where the river is making counterpoint on the stones as accompaniment to the canto-fermo of the cool breezes.” And instantly there appeared, under an oilcloth tent, a couch of fine scarlet, with down mattresses, covered with a Spanish counterpane and sheets as light as a feather. Then he asked for something to eat, and in a trice there was set out a sideboard covered with silver and gold fit for a prince, and under another tent a table spread with viands, the savory smell of which extended a hundred miles.
1.Alluding to the quarantine which ships were subject to in coming from the East.
When he had eaten enough, he laid himself down to sleep, and as soon as the cock, who is the spy of the sun, announced to his master that the shades of night were worn and wearied, and it was now time for him, like a skilful general, to fall upon the rear and make a slaughter of them, Lise opened his little box and said: “I wish to have a handsome dress, for today I shall see my brother, and I should like to make his mouth water.” No sooner said than done; immediately a princely dress of the richest black velvet appeared, with edgings of red camlet, and a lining of yellow cloth embroidered all over, which looked like a field of flowers; so, dressing himself, Lise got into the litter, and soon reached his brother’s house.
When Cianne saw his brother arrive with all his splendor and luxury, he wished to know what good fortune had befallen him. Then Lise told him of the youths whom he had met at the inn, and of the present they had made him, but he kept to himself the conversation of the youths.
Cianne was all impatience to get away from his brother, and told him to go and rest himself, as he was no doubt tired. Then he started post-haste, and soon arrived at the inn, where, finding the same youths, he fell into chat with them. And when the youth asked him the same question, what he thought of the month of March, Cianne, making a big mouth, said: “Confound the miserable month! the enemy of the shepherds, which stirs up all the ill-humors and brings sickness to our bodies—a month of which, whenever we want to announce ruin to a man, we say, ‘Go; March has shaved you,’ a month, in short, so hateful that it would be the best fortune for the world, the greatest blessing to the earth, the greatest gain to men, were it excluded from the band of brothers.”
March, who heard himself thus slandered, suppressed his anger till the morning, intending then to reward Cianne for his calumny; and when Cianne wished to depart, he gave him a fine whip, saying to him, “Whenever you wish for anything, only say, ‘Whip, give me an hundred!’ and you shall see pearls strung upon a rush.”
Cianne, thanking the youth, went his way in great haste, not wishing to make trial of the whip until he reached home. But hardly had he set foot in the house, when he went into a secret chamber, intending to hide the money which he expected to receive from the whip, and he said, “Whip, give me an hundred!” whereupon the whip gave him more than he looked for, making counterpoint on his legs and face like a musical composer, so that Lise, hearing his cries, came running out of the study; and when he saw that the whip, like a runaway horse, could not stop itself, he opened the little box and brought it to a standstill. Then he asked Cianne what had happened to him, and, upon hearing his story, he told him he had no one to blame but himself, for, like a blockhead, he alone had caused his misfortune, acting like a camel that wanted to have horns and lose his ears. He bade him mind another time and keep a bridle on his tongue, which was the key that had opened to him the storehouse of misfortune; for if he had spoken well of the youths, he would, perhaps, have had the same good luck as himself, and he cautioned him especially to speak well of every one in future, good words being a merchandise that costs nothing, and usually brings profit that is not expected. In conclusion, Lise comforted him, bidding him not seek more wealth than Heaven had given him, that his little casket would suffice to fill the houses of thirty misers, and Cianne should be master of all he possessed, since, to the generous man, Heaven is treasurer, and he added that, although another brother might have ill-will toward Cianne for the cruelty with which he had treated him in his poverty, yet he reflected that his avarice had been a favorable wind which had brought him to this port, and therefore wished to show himself grateful for the benefit.
When Cianne heard these things, he begged his brother’s pardon for his past unkindness, and, entering into partnership, they enjoyed together their good fortune, and from that time forward Cianne spoke well of everything, however bad it might be.
The Stone in the Cock’s Head
There was once in the City of Dark-Grotto a certain man named Minecco Aniello, who was so persecuted by fortune that all his household goods and movables consisted only of a short-legged cock, which he had reared upon bread-crumbs. But one morning, being driven frantic with an appetite (for hunger drives the wolf from the thicket), he took it into his head to sell the cock; and, taking it to the market, he met two thievish magicians, with whom he made a bargain, and sold it for half a crown. They told him to take it to their house and they would count him out the money, and they went their way, but Minecco Aniello, following them, overheard them talking gibberish together and saying, “Who would have told us that we would meet with such a piece of good luck, Jennarone? This cock will make our fortune to a certainty by the stone which, you know, he has in his pate. We will quickly have it set in a ring, and then we shall have everything we could ask for.” “Be quiet, Jacovuccio,” answered Jennarone; “I see myself rich, and can hardly believe it; and I am longing to twist the cock’s neck, and give a kick in the face of beggary; for in this world virtue without money goes for nothing, and a man is judged of by his coat.”
When Minecco Aniello, who had traveled about in the world and eaten bread from more than one oven, heard this gibberish, he turned on his heel and scampered off, and, running home, he twisted the cock’s neck, and opening its head, found the stone, which he had instantly set in a brass ring. Then, to make a trial of its virtue, he said: “I wish to become a youth eighteen years old.”
Hardly had he uttered the words, when his blood began to flow more quickly, his nerves became stronger, his limbs firmer, his flesh fresher, his eyes more fiery, his silver hairs were turned to gold; his mouth, which was a sacked village, became peopled with teeth; his beard, which was as thick as wood, became like a nursery garden; in short, he was changed to a most beautiful youth. Then he said again: “I wish for a splendid palace, and to marry a king’s daughter,” and lo, there instantly appeared a palace of incredible magnificence, in which were apartments that would amaze you, columns to astound you, pictures to fill you with wonder; silver glittered around and gold was trodden under foot; the jewels dazzled your eyes; the servants swarmed like ants, the horses and carriages were not to be counted; in short, there was such a display of riches that the king stared at the sight, and willingly gave him his daughter, Nalalizia.
Meanwhile the magicians, having discovered Minecco Aniello’s great wealth, laid a plan to rob him of his good fortune; so they made a pretty little doll, which played and danced by means of clockwork, and, dressing themselves like merchants, they went to Pentella, the daughter of Minecco Aniello, under pretext of selling it to her. When Pentella saw the beautiful little thing, she asked them what price they put upon it, and they replied that it could not be bought for money, but that she might have it and welcome if she would only do them a favor, which was to let them see the make of the ring which her father possessed, in order to take a model and make another like it; then they would give her the doll without any payment at all.
Pentella, who had never heard the proverb, “Think well before you buy anything cheap,” instantly accepted this offer, and bade them return the next morning, when she promised to ask her father to lend her the ring. So the magicians went away, and when her father returned home, Pentella coaxed and caressed him, until at last she persuaded him to give her the ring, making the excuse that she was sad at heart, and wished to divert her mind a little.
When the next day came, as soon as the scavenger of the sun swept the last trace of the shades from the streets and squares of heaven, the magicians returned, and no sooner had they the ring in their hands than they instantly vanished, and not a trace of them was to be seen, so that poor Pentella had like to have died with terror.
But when the magicians came to a wood, where the branches of some of the trees were dancing a sword dance, and the boughs of others were playing together at hot-cockles, they desired the ring to break the spell by which the old man had become young again, and instantly Minecco Aniello, who was just at that minute in the presence of the king, was suddenly seen to grow hoary, his hairs to whiten, his forehead to wrinkle, his eyebrows to grow bristly, his eyes to sink in, his face to be furrowed, his mouth to become toothless, his beard to grow bushy, his back to be humped, his legs to tremble, and, above all, his glittering garments to return to rags and tatters.
The king, seeing this miserable beggar seated beside him at table, ordered him to be instantly driven away with blows and hard words; whereupon Aniello, thus suddenly fallen from his good luck, went weeping to his daughter, and asked for the ring in order to set matters to rights again. But when he heard the fatal trick of the false merchant, he was ready to throw himself out of the window, cursing a thousand times the ignorance of his daughter, who, for the sake of a silly doll, had turned him into a miserable scarecrow, and for a paltry thing of rags had brought him to rags himself, adding that he was resolved to go wandering about the world, like a bad shilling, until he should get tidings of those merchants. So saying, he threw a cloak about his neck and a wallet on his back, drew his sandals on his feet, took a staff in his hand, and, leaving his daughter all chilled and frozen, he set out walking desperately on until he came to the kingdom of Deep-Hole, inhabited by mice, where, having been taken for a big spy of the cats, he was instantly led before Rosecone,[2] the king. The king at once asked him who he was, whence he came, and what he was about in that country; and Minecco Aniello, after first giving the king a cheese-paring, in sign of tribute, related to him all his misfortunes, one by one, and concluded by saying that he was resolved to continue his toil and travel until he could get tidings of those thievish villains who had robbed him of so precious a jewel, taking from him at once the flower of his youth, the source of his wealth, and the prop of his honor.
2.Nibbler.
At these words Rosecone felt pity nibbling at his heart; and wishing to comfort the poor man, he summoned the oldest mice to a council, and asked their opinions on the misfortunes of Minecco Aniello, commanding them to use all diligence and endeavor to obtain some tidings of those false merchants. Now among the rest it happened that Rudolo and Saltariello[3] were present, good mice who were used to the ways of the world, and had lived for six years at a tavern of great resort hard by, and they said to Aniello: “Be of good heart, comrade! Matters will turn out better than you imagine. You must know that one day, when we were in a room at the hostelry of the Horn, where the most famous men of the world lodge and make merry, two persons from the Hook Castle came in, who, after they had eaten their fill and had seen the bottom of their flagon, fell to talking of a trick they had played a certain old man of Dark-Grotto, and how they had cheated him out of a stone of great value, which one of them, named Jennarone, said he would never take from his finger, that he might not run the risk of losing it, as the old man’s daughter had done.”
3.Nibbler and Skipjack.
When Minecco Aniello heard this, he told the two mice that if they would trust themselves to accompany him to the country where these rogues lived, and recover the ring for him, he would give them a good lot of cheese and salt meat, which they might eat and enjoy with his majesty, the king. Then the two mice, after bargaining for a suitable reward, offered to go over sea and mountain, and taking leave of his mousy majesty, they set out.
After journeying a long way, they arrived at Hook Castle, where the mice told Minecco Aniello to remain under some trees on the brink of the river, which, much like a leech, drew the moisture from the land and discharged it into the sea. Then they went to seek the house of the magicians; and, observing that Jennarone never took the ring from his finger, they stood to gain the victory by stratagem; so, waiting till night had dyed with purple grape-juice the sunburnt face of heaven, and the magicians had gone to bed and were fast asleep, Rudolo began to nibble the finger on which the ring was; whereupon Jennarone, feeling the smart, took the ring off and laid it on a table at the bed’s head. But as soon as Saltariello saw this, he bobbed the ring into his mouth, and in four skips he was off to find Minecco Aniello, and with even greater joy than the man at the gallows feels when the pardon arrives, he instantly turned the magicians into two jackasses, and, throwing his mantle over one of them, he bestrode him like a noble count; then he loaded the other with cheese and bacon, and set off toward Deep-Hole, where, having given presents to the king and his counselors, he thanked them for all the good fortune he had received by their assistance, praying Heaven that no mouse-trap might ever lay hold of them, that no cat might ever harm them, and that no arsenic might ever poison them. Then, leaving that country, Minecco Aniello returned to Dark-Grotto, even more handsome than before, and was received by the king and his daughter with the greatest affection of the heart, and having ordered the two asses cast down from a rock, he lived happily with his wife, never more taking the ring from his finger, that he might not again commit such a folly.
The Fox and the Cat
In a certain forest there once lived a fox, and near to the fox lived a man who had a cat that had been a good mouser in its youth, but was now old and half-blind. The man didn’t want puss any longer, but not liking to kill him, took him out into the forest and lost him there. Then the fox came up and said:
“Why, Mr. Shaggy Matthew! How d’ye do? What brings you here?”
“Alas!” said pussy, “my master loved me as long as I could bite, but now that I can bite no longer, and have left off catching mice—and I used to catch them finely once—he doesn’t like to kill me, but he has left me in the wood, where I must perish miserably.”
“No, dear pussy!” said the fox; “you leave it to me, and I’ll help you get your daily bread.”
“You are very good, dear little sister foxy!” said the cat, and the fox built him a little shed with a garden round it to walk about in.
Now one day the hare came to steal the man’s cabbage. “Kreem-kreem-kreem!” he squeaked. But the cat popped his head out of the window, and when he saw the hare, he put up his back and stuck up his tail and said:
“Ft-t-t-t-t-Frrrrrrr!”
The hare was frightened and ran away and told the bear, the wolf, and the wild boar all about it.
“Never mind,” said the bear, “I tell you what, we’ll all four give a banquet, and invite the fox and the cat, and do for the pair of them. Now, look here! I’ll steal the man’s mead; and you, Mr. Wolf, steal his fat-pot; and you, Mr. Wildboar, root up his fruit trees; and you, Mr. Bunny, go and invite the fox and the cat to dinner.”
So they made everything ready as the bear had said, and the hare ran off to invite the guests. He came beneath the window and said:
“We invite your little ladyship, Foxy-Woxy, together with Mr. Shaggy Matthew, to dinner”—and back he ran again.
“But you should have told them to bring their spoons with them,” said the bear.
“Oh, what a head I’ve got! if I didn’t quite forget!” cried the hare, and back he went again, ran beneath the window, and cried:
“Mind you bring your spoons!”
“Very well,” said the fox.
So the cat and the fox went to the banquet, and when the cat saw the bacon, he put up his back and stuck out his tail and cried:
“Mee-oo, mee-oo!” with all his might. But they thought he said:
“Ma-lo, ma-lo!”[4]
4.What a little! what a little!
“What!” said the bear, who was hiding behind the beeches with the other beasts, “here have all we four been getting together all we could, and this pig-faced cat calls it too little! What a monstrous cat he must be to have such an appetite!”
So they were all four very frightened, and the bear climbed up a tree, and the others hid where they could. But when the cat saw the boar’s bristles sticking out from behind the bushes he thought it was a mouse, and put up his back again and cried:
“Ft! ft! ft! Frrrrrrr!”
Then they were more frightened than ever. And the boar went into a bush still farther off, and the wolf went behind an oak, and the bear got down from the tree, and climbed up into a bigger one, and the hare ran right away.
But the cat remained in the midst of all the good things and ate away at the bacon, and the little fox gobbled up the honey, and they ate and ate till they couldn’t eat any more, and then they both went home licking their paws.
The Straw Ox
There was once upon a time an old man and an old woman. The old man worked in the fields as a pitch burner, while the old woman sat at home and spun flax. They were so poor that they could save nothing at all; all their earnings went in bare food, and when that was gone there was nothing left. At last the old woman had a good idea.
“Look, now, husband,” cried she, “make me a straw ox, and smear it all over with tar.”
“Why, you foolish woman!” said he, “what’s the good of an ox of that sort?”
“Never mind,” said she; “you just make it. I know what I am about.”
