Stories from the Brownie Book

SPRING

THE STORY OF PRINCE JALMA

Translated From the Spanish by

MARY COOK

Once upon a time,—long, long ago, there lived an old man who had a very beautiful daughter. He was quite ignorant, and knew not gold from silver. Every day he went into the thick forest to cut firewood, which he carried to the city and exchanged for food. In this way, he supported his wife and daughter. One day, while he was cutting the trunk of a large tree, he heard painful lamentations within. Then an ugly man appeared, and said:

You have wounded me, and shall die for this.

The old man excused himself, saying:

Sir, pardon me. I am very poor, and have to search for firewood to support my wife and daughter.

And is your daughter beautiful?

Oh, yes sir, very much so.

Very well, I will grant you your life if you will allow your daughter to become my wife; if not, I must kill you. Within eight days, bring me her reply,—whether or not she will do as I desire. And now, open the trunk of the tree, and you will find much gold. You may take it to your wife and daughter.

The old man cut the trunk of the tree, and within found much gold. He loaded his ass with it and returned to the house. When he arrived, his wife and daughter asked him why he was so late. He explained the case to them, and the young girl said that she would consent to the marriage, to save her father. Then he gave them the gold which he had brought. They had never seen gold coins, and did not know that they were money.

What is this? they asked. What beautiful medals are these?

It would be good, father, to sell them in the city, if it is possible, said the daughter.

The old man went to the city, carrying his gold. He desired to sell it, but they told him that he had found gold coins, and that with them he could buy many things. He bought food and clothes for his family and returned at once to the house.

At the end of the eight days, he took his axe and mule and went into the forest. He knocked on the trunk of the tree, and the same ugly man appeared.

What reply do you bring me? he asked

My daughter consents to the marriage, the old man replied.

Good; but there is one condition, and that is that the wedding be celebrated in the dark, and that she never try to see me until I give her permission.

The old man said that it should be as he wished.

And so the wedding was celebrated in the dark, and the young girl lived very happily. Her husband left very early each morning and returned for the night.

One day an old woman came to visit the young girl and asked how she liked her married life. The young girl responded that she liked it very much. Then the old woman wanted to know if her husband was young or old, ugly or handsome, tall or short. The young girl responded that she did not know, because she had never seen him.

What! cried the old woman. You have never seen your husband! It is not possible.

But, you see, he asked it before we were married.

My child, you do not know whether your husband is a dog, or Satan. You must see him. Take this match and when he falls asleep, light it, and you will be able to tell what he is.

So the girl did as the woman told her. When her husband arrived in the middle of the night, she lit the match and looked at him. She saw that he was very handsome, but forgot the match, and a piece of it fell on her husband’s face. He awoke at once.

Ungrateful wretch, you have not kept your word! Now you must know that I am an enchanted prince. I am the Prince Jalma. My enchantment was almost broken, but now it is impossible for a long time. If you ever wish to see me again, you must wear iron shoes and search over the whole world. Goodbye.

The prince disappeared, and the girl began to weep and regret having taken the advice of the old woman.

The next day she bought the iron shoes and went to search for her husband. She visited many cities, asking for the Prince Jalma, but no one had seen him. At last she came to the end of the world, and seeing the mother of the North Wind, asked:

How are you, good woman?

Very well, but what brings you here? Not even birds dare come so far. My son will eat you.

Madam, I come in search of my husband, the Prince Jalma. I am compelled to wear iron shoes until I find him.

I do not know him, child, but it is probable that my son does. Hide yourself under this pot and when he arrives, I will ask him.

When the wind arrived, he began to roar:

Hu-u-u-u-u! I smell human flesh here.

What? cried his mother, You smell human flesh here, when not even the birds can come so far?

But the wind continued:

Hu-u-u-u! I smell human flesh here.

His mother set the table and after they had eaten, she said, Will you grant me a favor?

Speak, mother.

There is a girl here, in search of her husband, the Prince Jalma. Do you know him?

No, but it is probable my friend, the South Wind, knows him. I will take her there, if she wishes.

The mother of the North Wind gave the girl a golden hen and some golden wheat, and the North Wind took her in his arms and carried her to the other end of the world. There she saw the mother of the South Wind, who cried:

My child, what brings you here, when not even the birds come so far? My son will eat you.

I am in search of my husband, the Prince Jalma. The North Wind said that your son might know him. Is it true?

Hide yourself behind this pot and when he comes, I will ask him.

When the South Wind arrived, he began to growl:

Hu-u-u-u! I smell human flesh here.

What! You smell human flesh here, when not even the birds come so far? Come, eat your dinner and we will talk.

After they had eaten, the mother asked:

Will you grant me a favor?

Speak, I will grant it.

A little girl has come here, looking for her husband, the Prince Jalma. Do you know him?

No, but my friend the East Wind must know him. I will take her there.

The mother of the South Wind gave the girl a cross of gold, and her son carried her off to the East Wind. He had not heard of Prince Jalma either, but offered to take her to his friend, the West Wind. The mother of the East Wind gave the girl a comb, to sell in case of necessity.

When the East Wind arrived with her, they met the West Wind’s mother sitting on the steps, and the young girl asked her the same question which she had asked the others, and the woman replied:

It is more than likely that my son knows him. Hide yourself behind this pot.

When the West Wind came, he was very angry, but after he had eaten, the mother brought out the girl who asked, at once, for the Prince Jalma.

Yes, I know your husband, my child, and I know where he is; I will take you there. He is imprisoned in a palace, with an old witch and her daughter. The daughter desires to marry him. No one can see him and he can see no one. He sleeps under seven keys.

The mother of the West Wind gave her a cup of gold, to sell in case of necessity.

Finally she arrived at the palace, where they told her that within four days, the prince must marry the witch’s daughter. So she sat down in the garden and tried to make herself appear as a fool. She washed her face with clay and, taking out the golden hen, attempted to feed it with the wheat. In this way she attracted much attention. Very soon the witch’s daughter came up to her.

Will you give me your hen? she asked.

No, no, replied the girl.

Sell it to me, then. What do you wish for it?

If you will allow me to sleep in the prince’s room for one night, you shall have it for nothing.

Very well, you may sleep there.

They turned the seven keys, and the girl entered the prince’s room; but before she came, they had put something in his wine to make him sleep, and she could not wake him, although she cried very loudly:

Prince, awake! I am your wife. I have worn the iron shoes and have at last found you, but if you do not recognize me, you must marry another.

But the prince did not awake, and the next morning they took her away, and she went back into the garden. She brought out her comb and began to comb her hair. Soon the witch’s daughter appeared and bought it under the same condition; but the same thing happened with the prince. The third day she brought out the cross of gold, and the witch’s daughter bought this also; but the girl was not able to awake her husband.

The fourth day the girl brought out the golden cup, and the witch’s daughter bought that, too. But this time the prince had begun to suspect something and did not drink the wine. The poor girl entered his room and began anew her lamentations:

If you do not recognize me tonight, I am lost forever. I have not another thing with which to gain my entrance to your room. The witch’s daughter has the hen, the wheat, the comb, the cross, and the cup. Besides, tomorrow you must marry her.

At this moment, the prince awoke. He beheld his wife, and with great joy clasped her in his arms:

No one shall be my wife but you!

The next day they celebrated the wedding all over again, and the wicked witch and her daughter were burned.

(This story, El Principe Jalma, is taken from La biblioteca de las tradiciones populares españolas, (Madrid, 1886.) The name of the author is not given. Mary Cook, the translator, is fifteen years old and a pupil in the Dunbar High School, Washington, D. C. Her teacher in Spanish is Miss Julia E. Brooks.)

OLD MAN AND THE BULLBERRIES

GREY WOLF

Old Man was walking along, very thirsty, so the first river he came to, he flung himself down to drink. Right after he had filled up, he noticed a branch full of bullberries, lying under the water.

Say, that is fine, exclaimed Old Man. Berries! I guess I’ll dive in and get ’em.

He dived in, swam around under water, and felt for the berries; but not one could he find.

That’s queer! he gasped, coming to the surface. I’ll look again.

When the water cleared, he stared into it again. Sure enough, there were the berries.

Old Man dived a second time, and the poor fellow nearly suffocated, trying to stay under water long enough to find the berries. Finally he came up and blew a long breath and climbed out on the bank. After a minute, he turned to look and the berries were there as before!

I don’t stay under long enough, that’s the trouble! exclaimed Old Man. He found a stone and tied it around his middle and jumped in. He went down, like a stone, and flopped on the hard bottom of the river. Once there, he thrashed his arms about, looking for the berries. It was no use. At last, choking and bubbling, he tried to rise, but could not. The stone held him down.

Do I die now? he wondered.

No, answered his tomahawk,—cut the cord!

Old Man cut the cord, and the rock fell on his toes.

OUCH! he gurgled.

He shot to the surface. Now he was so exhausted that he had to lie on his back to recover breath. Suddenly he noticed, right above him, a berry bush, leaning out over the river. It was the reflection of this bush that Old Man had dived for!

So! cried Old Man to the berry bush, you fooled me, did you! He jumped up and picked out a stick and attacked the berry bush, beating it until he had knocked off all its berries.

There! he cried, as he ate the berries, that is your punishment for fooling Old Man. After this, even the women will beat you!

It was so. From that time, whenever the Indian women wanted berries, they beat the bullberry bushes with sticks, having first spread blankets to catch the berries. Old Man taught them that.

THE FAIRIES’ FLOWER GARDEN

GRACE WHITE

Grandma Carey, a little, old, white-haired lady of the village, had the most beautiful flower garden of all. No one had flowers to bloom as early as Grandma Carey and nobody’s lived as long; and no one, not even in the whole village, had flowers to match Grandma Carey’s in color. Her flowers had the richest hues, her rambling roses, the pinkest tint, and her pansies were almost dazzling in their bright color. When anyone was sick a flower from Grandma Carey’s garden was the first aid to recovery.

When visitors asked Grandma Carey how she obtained such glorious colors, she would laugh and her little eyes would twinkle merrily as she said, Land sakes, I don’t do nothin’; that garden belongs to the fairies!

No wonder Grandma Carey had such a beautiful garden, the fairies lived there!

But soon there came a morning when the flowers didn’t hold up their heads, but hung them in shame. What could have happened? All the children and even the grown-ups of the village came hurrying to Grandma Carey’s cottage. And this is how she explained it.

For a long, long time the fairies had been planning and preparing for the Queen’s annual dance. They collected all the sweet honey and nectar and all the bright golden pollen for miles and miles around. For this year at the Queen’s annual dance they were to entertain with great ceremony and pomp, the King of the Gnomes. Everything was ready, from the sweet food of the fairies to the beautiful fairy carriages which were driven by golden-winged beetles. And the King of the Gnomes didn’t arrive! Imagine the anger and disappointment of the fairies! So they neglected their homes, (which are the roses and pansies and nearly all the flowers), to meet at the fairy palace to talk and wonder about the King of the Gnomes.

But, said Grandma Carey, slowly, "I know why the King of the Gnomes didn’t arrive on time. While crossing a meadow he happened to notice a tiny, neglected field and in the center a tiny, neglected cottage standing all alone. And it looked so forlorn and forgotten that the King of the Gnomes expressed a desire to visit it.

" ‘But,’ said the Count of the Gnomes, ‘we are on our way to visit Her Majesty, The Queen of the Fairies!’

" ‘I wish to visit that cottage,’ said the King, ‘and I shall do so.’

"And so the King of the Gnomes visited the forlorn looking cottage. If one would call the outside forlorn, one should see the inside, that was most forlorn! For on a cot in the corner of the room lay a little girl moaning and tossing in pain, crying always, incessantly for flowers, bright flowers.

" ‘We have work here,’ said the King softly. ‘Let us begin.’ So all the King’s men started to work and they worked harder and harder. Now when one works hard one accomplishes something; and the King’s men really did accomplish something. For the next morning the little field around the cottage was cleared of its rubbish and weeds and in their place grew beautiful, bright flowers! Imagine the surprise and joy of little Margaret Marnie when she saw her lovely garden!

And so today when the King left, Margaret Marnie was sitting on the steps softly talking and caressing her bright flowers. Margaret Marnie was well again. Now, continued Grandma Carey, the King of the Gnomes is on his way to visit the Queen of the Fairies and when he arrives the Queen will forget her temper. The King will apologize and all will be peace again. For the King of the Gnomes is going to ask for the Queen’s hand in marriage and I think she will accept. Their honeymoon will be spent visiting Margaret Marnie’s garden, then they will come back to live forever in my garden. When they do, then my flowers will become beautiful again.

Thus Grandma Carey ended her story. Yes, even as she spoke the flowers raised their heads; their color returned, the King of the Gnomes had arrived.

Once more Grandma Carey had the most beautiful garden of all. And strange to say, Grandma Carey’s flowers never lost their bloom again, and so we conclude that the King of the Gnomes and the Queen of the Fairies are living very happily in their beautiful garden of flowers.

THE FIRST GAME OF MARBLES

JOSEPH S. COTTER

Long before the chubby hand of a chubby boy rolled a marble in its chubby palm, clinched it between thumb and fingers and sent it after another, monkeys did the same. A boy invented cheating at marbles, but monkeys invented the game.

Skybow was a monkey, and so was Peblow, and that made them a-kin, monkey-wise. Skybow thought the stars pebbles, waiting for a game. Peblow thought the pebbles marbles, begging for a game.

Here they be, said Peblow, nice, smooth, round ones. Lend them your paw, Skybow.

Right you be, Peblow, said Skybow. We can’t game the Stars, but we can toss pebbles. At this they fell to playing. Skybow tossed a pebble, and Peblow rubbed his eye and wrote his respects in the dust with his tail. Skybow read it and aimed nearer the ground next time. Peblow tossed a pebble; and, after Skybow had turned around several times, the while making one long grunt, he shook the pebbles from his ear and wrote a line in the dust with his tail. Peblow read it and said:

My dear Skybow, the dust is a better playground than our heads.

Then Peblow tossed pebbles to wipe out Skybow’s writing, and Skybow tossed pebbles to wipe out Peblow’s. This, you see, was the game.

Then the Snake came up and said: This is no game. To have a real game you must have a taw and a ring. You must toss your pebbles in ones and trebles and whirl about as you knock them out. I stretch me in the dust. Now that line is your taw. I coil me in the dust. Now that circle is your ring. Play now for pebbles and not for eyes and ears.

Skybow and Peblow then played, boy-fashion, and piled up the nice smooth round pebbles by the ring-side.

Let me play, said the snake. I’ll show you fellows a new wrinkle.

In the eyes and ears? asked Skybow and Peblow.

No, said the Snake, You are wise enough to do that. I’ll play you a game without hands. I’ll swallow all the pebbles and cough them up as I need them in the game.

Then go it, said Peblow.

You know it, said Skybow.

The Snake swallowed the pebbles, coiled up and pretended to be asleep.

Let’s have the game, said Peblow.

I ask the same, said Skybow.

Said the Snake: There is no use grumbling. The pebbles are in, and you are out. Go write in the dust with your tails and blow out the letters with your mouths. That’s a good game.

I have a thought, said Skybow.

Let it not go to naught, said Peblow.

Said the Snake: I’ll move on and leave you to think out your thought. The Snake tried to move, but the pebbles weighted it to the ground.

Let my tail grip the Snake’s tail, said Skybow.

Let my tail grip the Snake’s neck, said Peblow.

What, said the Snake, are you going to make me, a skipping rope? It then curved its neck and wiggled its tail. In those days the Snake carried no poison under its tongue. The poison was in its tail and was harmless.

I’m turning the Snake by the tail, said Skybow.

I’m turning the Snake by the neck, said Peblow.

Oh, said the Snake, for the curve in my neck, and the wiggle in my tail!

Oh, said the monkeys, for the crick in your neck, Brother Snake, and the twist in your tail!

After Skybow and Peblow were sure that the Snake was a good skipping rope they left it to cough up the pebbles and play its own game. In coughing up the pebbles the poison was drawn from its tail and lodged under its tongue. It straightway became a stinging and poisonous creature, and from that day to this, all other creatures have been its enemies. That’s how the first game of marbles was played, and how the Snake got its sting.

CUEVA ONDA

HALLIE ELVERA QUEEN

Cueva Onda is situated in Aguadilla, Puerto Rico, on the western coast near where Columbus landed on his second voyage.

It was the eve of El Inocente Mariposa (the innocent butterfly), which in Puerto Rico falls on the 28th of December. It was during the Christmas recess and the youngsters had decided to take me on an outing. You must know that it is very warm in Puerto Rico in December, so we got into our thinnest clothing and our broadest sombreros.

Where shall we go? cried out many voices. Rosario, who is indolent and does not care for exertion, suggested El Canto de las Piedras. Edelmiro, who is practical, said that there was nothing to see at El Canto except Cofresi’s stone. Now Cofresi was a pirate who, with his companion Silvia, sailed up and down Mona Passage. Edelmiro explained that on the site of one of the Piedras (rocks) they had cut the number 10,000, supposed to represent a number of dollars buried beneath, and had fled.