Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a little bear who loved to read. In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the moon. And they all lived happily ever after. Snow White slept peacefully while the seven dwarfs kept watch. The little mermaid gazed up at the world above the sea. Jack climbed the beanstalk higher and higher until he reached the giant's castle. The ugly duckling discovered he was actually a beautiful swan. Peter Pan flew over Neverland with Tinker Bell. RED RIDING HOOD. There was a lonely cabin Within a dark, old wood, And in it, with her mother There dwelt Red Riding Hood. The tall old trees above them Their winter fire supplied When Autumn's flaming sunsets From their red leaves had died. The rippling brook, their water From far off mountains brought; And prattled of their summits In icy statues wrought. For them, the squirrels hoarded Their nuts in hollow trees; And pounds of sweetest honey Were made them by the bees; To gather these together Was work enough to do; Little Red Riding Hood thought so, An so, no doubt, would you. Blushing beneath her fingers Looked up the berries red; The flowers seemed to know her And listened for her tread. For she was good and loving And beautiful as good, With daily acts of kindness, Little Red Riding Hood. Afar off, in the forest, There lived her grandam old; And she was poor and needy, And often sick and cold. And once a week, her grandchild Would walk the lonely wood, And carry little bundles Of faggots and of food. One morn the mother started The maid upon her way, And said, "now you must carry To grandmamma to day." "This little pot of butter I've churned so nice and sweet; And mind not stop and prattle With any one you meet!" Then through the shady forest The little maiden went; And though her steps were fleetest, The day was well nigh spent, When nearby through her journey, An old, gaunt Wolf she spied, Who wagged his tail, and humbly Came walking by her side; And said, "my little maiden, How very fair you are! You really look quite handsome! Where do you walk so far?" Forgetful of her mother, She stopped and told him where; Then said the Wolf, so cunning, "What is it that you bear?" Forgetful of her mother, She stood and told him what; "Tis butter, for my grandma, Packed nicely in this pot." Then said the Wolf, "good by dear; Perhaps we'll meet again!" Then swiftly on he hastened, Swiftly through dale and glen, And running reached before her The cabin grey and old; Her grandmamma was absent— He quickly did infold Himself in cap and night gown Then quickly on the bed, Closely upon the pillow He laid his grizzly head. Red Riding Hood soon entered; "O, grandmamma, see here! A little pot of butter!" Where is my grandma dear? "Here," said the Wolf, well feigning, Her grandma's voice, so weak; "I'm here, so sick my darling, That I can scarcely speak!" "Take off your clothes my darling, Upon the bed come lie; When you are here beside me I'll be better by and by!" Red Riding Hood obeyed her And got upon the bed; "O grandmamma how altered You are!" she quickly said "O what GREAT EYES my grandma! They never looked so before—" "That's to see you the better my darling, The larger, to see you more!" "What a GREAT NOSE my grandma It never looked so before!" "That's to smell you better, my darling; The larger to smell you more!" "And what GREAT HANDS my grandma They never looked so before!" "That's to hold you tight my darling And to hug you more and more!" "What a GREAT MOUTH my grandma! As large as your tin cup!" "That's to open wide my beauty And then to eat you up!" Then he opened his great mouth wider To eat her like a bird But at that dreadful moment A hunter's gun was heard The Wolf fell dead and bleeding— Then grandma hastened in— For she had seen the peril The danger that had been! Red Riding Hood wept sadly And sorrowed more and more, That she'd disobeyed her mother— Which she never did before. And she thought with fear & trembling Of the death that came so near! And she said the fright had taught her To mind her mother dear. Then listen, all ye children, And mind your mother's word! For the great WOLF, men call EVIL Is prowling round unheard! Cinderella danced at the ball until midnight struck. Goodnight moon, goodnight stars, goodnight everywhere. THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS. THERE were once three bears, who lived in a wood, Their porridge was thick, and their chairs and beds good. The biggest bear, Bruin, was surly and rough; His wife, Mrs. Bruin, was called Mammy Muff. Their son, Tiny-cub, was like Dame Goose's lad; He was not very good, nor yet very bad. Now Bruin, the biggest—the surly old bear— Had a great granite bowl, and a cast-iron chair. Mammy Muffs bowl and chair you would no doubt prefer— They were both made of brick-bats, but both suited her. Young Tiny-cub's bowl, chair, and bed were the best,— This, big bears and baby bears freely confessed. Mr. B——, with his wife and his son, went one day To take a short stroll, and a visit to pay. He left the door open, "For," said he, "no doubt If our friend should call in, he will find us all out." It was only two miles from dark Hazel-nut Wood, In which the great house of the three Bruins stood, That there lived a young miss, daring, funny, and fair, And from having bright curls, she was called Goldenhair. She had roamed through the wood to see what she could see, And she saw going walking the Bruins all three. Said she to herself, "To rob bears is no sin; The three bears have gone out, so I think I'll go in." She entered their parlor, and she saw a great bowl, And in it a spoon like a hair-cutter's pole. "That porridge," said she "may stay long enough there, It tastes like the food of the surly old bear," She tried Mammy Muff's, and she said, "Mrs. B——, I think your taste and my taste will never agree." Then she tried Tiny-Cub's bowl, and said, "This is nice; I will put in some salt, and of bread a thick slice." The porridge she eat soon made her so great, The chair that she sat on broke down with her weight; The bottom fell out, and she cried in dismay, "This is Tiny-cub's chair, and oh, what will he say? His papa is, I know, the most savage of bears,— His mamma is a fury; but for her who cares? I'm sure I do not; and then, as for her son, That young bear, Tiny-cub—from him shall I run? No, not I, indeed; but I will not sit here— I shall next break the floor through—that's what I most fear;" So up-stairs she ran, and there three beds she found She looked under each one, and she looked all around; But no one she saw, so she got into bed— It was surly old Bruin's, and well stuffed with lead. Mammy Muffs next she tried; it was stuffed with round stones, So she got into Tiny-cub's and rested her bones. Goldenhair was asleep when the three bears came in. Said Big Bruin, "I'm hungry—to eat, let's begin— Who has been to my porridge?" he roared with such might; His voice was like wind down the chimney at night. "Who has been to my porridge?" growled out Mrs. B——; Her voice was like cats fighting up in a tree. "Who has been to my porridge and eaten it all?" Young Tiny-cub said, in a voice very small, "Who has been sitting in my great arm chair?" In voice like a thunder-storm, roared the big bear. "Who has been sitting in my good arm chair?" Growled out Mammy Muff, like a sow in despair. "Who has sat in my nice chair, and broken it down?" Young Tiny-cub said, and so fierce was his frown, That his mother with pride to his father said, "There! See our pet Tiny-cub can look just like a bear," So roaring, and growling, and frowning, the bears, One after the other, came running up-stairs. "Who has been upon my bed?" old Bruin roared out, In a voice just like rain down a large water-spout. "Who has been upon my bed?" growled out Mammy Muff, In a voice like her husband's, but not quite so rough. "Who is lying on my bed?" said young Tiny-Cub, In a voice like hot water poured into a tub. And Tiny-cub's breath was so hot as he spoke, That Goldenhair dreamt of hot water, and woke. She opened her eyes, and she saw the three bears, And said, "Let me go, please, I'll soon run down stairs." But big Bruin was angry, and shouted out, "No! You had no right to come hither, and now you shan't go. What we mean to do with you, ere long you shall find; You can lie there and cry till I make up my mind." To Mammy and Tiny then did big Bruin roar, "Go and block up the chimney and nail up the door; This Goldenhair now has got into a scrape, And if I can help it, she shall not escape." But Goldenhair saw that a window was there, (It was always kept open to let in fresh air), So she jumped out of bed—to the window she ran, Saying "Three bears, good-bye! Catch me now if you can!" To the window the bears ran as fast as they could, But Goldenhair flew like the wind through the wood. She said the bears' breath had filled her with steam, But when she grew older she said 'twas a dream, And no doubt she was right to take such a view; Still, some part of the story is certainly true, For unto this day there is no one who dares, To say that there never existed THREE BEARS. The three Billy Goats Gruff went trip, trap, trip, trap across the bridge. JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK JACK was a poor widow's heir, but he lived as a drone in a beehive, Hardly a handstir a day did he work. To squander her earnings Seem'd to the poor widow hard, who raved and scolded him always. Nought in her house was left; not a cheese, not a loaf, not an onion; Nought but a cow in her yard, and that must go to the market. "Sell me the cow," cried she; then he sold it, gad! for a handful—— Only to think!———of beans. She shied them out thro' the window, Cursing him: hied to her bed, there slept, but awoke in amazement, Seeing a huge bean-stalk, many leaves, many pods, many flowers, Rise to the clouds more tall than a tall California pine- tree; High as a lark was Jack, scarce seen, and climbing away there. "Where an' O where," * he shrill'd; she beheld his boots disappearing; * "Where an' O where is my Highland laddie gone?" Pod by pod Jack arose, till he came to a pod that alarm'd him. Bridge-like this long pod stretch'd out, and touch'd on an island Veil'd in vapour. A shape from the island waved him a signal, Waved with a shining hand, and Jack with an humble obeisance Crawl'd to the shape, who remark'd, "I gave those beans to ye, darling. I am a fairy, a friend to ye, Jack; see yonder a Giant Lives, who slew your own good father, see what a fortress! Enter it, have no fear, since I, your fairy, protect you." Jack march'd up to the gate, in a moment pass'd to the kitchen Led by the savoury smell. This Giant's wife with a ladle Basted a young elephant (Jack's namesake shriek'd and turn'd it). Back Jack shrank in alarm: with fat cheeks peony-bulbous, Ladle in hand, she stood, and spake in a tone of amusement: "Oh! what a cramp'd-up, small, unsesquipedalian object!" Then from afar came steps, heavy tramps, as a pavior hamm'ring; Out of her huge moon-cheeks the redundant peony faded, Jack's lank hair she grabb'd, and, looking sad resolution, Popt him aghast in among her saucepans' grimy recesses. Then strode in, with a loud heavy-booted thunder of heel- taps, He with a tiger at heel—her Giant, swarthy, colossal: "I smell flesh of a man; yea, wife, tho' he prove but a morsel, Man tastes good." She replied, "Sure thou be'est failing in eyesight; 'Tis but a young elephant, my sweetest lord, not a biped." Down he crook'd his monstrous knees, and rested his hip- bones, Call'd for his hen, said "Lay so she, with a chuck cock- a-doodle, Dropt him an egg, pure gold, a refulgent, luminous oval,— That was her use:—when he push'd her aside, cried, "Bring me the meat now," Gorged his enormous meal, fell prone, and lost recollection. Jack from a saucepan watch'd his broad chest's monstrous upheavals: Then to the chamber above both dame and tiger ascended. "Now for it, hist!" says Jack—"coast clear, and none to behold me," Airily Jack stole forth, and seized the plump, money- laying, Priceless, mystical hen; ran forth, sped away to the bean- stalk, Heard from afar, then near, heavy tramps, as a pavior hamm'ring, Sprang down pod by pod, with a bounding, grasshopper action, Left the Colossus aghast at an edge of his own little island, Lighted on earth, whom she, that bare him, fondly saluting, Dropt a maternal tear, and dried that tear with her apron, Seeing him home and safe; and after it, all was a hey-day, Lots of loaves, and tons of cheeses, a barnful of onions; Cows and calves, and creams, and gold eggs piled to the ceilings: Horses, goats, and geese, and pigs, and pugs by the hundred. Ah! but he found in a while his life of laziness irksome. "Climb me," the bean-stalk said with a whisper. Jack, reascending, Swarm'd to the wonderful isle once more, and high habitation; Led by the fairy return'd to the fortress, pass'd to the kitchen, Unseen, hied him again to the saucepans' grimy recesses, Peep'd out into the room. The plump wife, peony- bulbous, Toasted a constrictor, which roll'd in vast revolutions. Then strode in, strong-booted again, with a roar, the Colossus: Call'd for his harp, said "Play." So this, with a sharp treble ting-tong, Play'd him an air, a delightful, long-drawn, national anthem, Play'd him an air, untouch'd, (the strings, by a fairy magician Wrought, were alive). Then he shouted aloud, "Wife, bring me the meat now," Gorged his elongate meal; the snake in warm revolutions, Making his huge bulk swell, disappear'd like Man's macaroni: After, he yawn'd and snored, fell prone, and lost recollection. So Jack seized the melodious harp, and bolted. A murmur "Master, master, a rascal, a rascal!" rang thro' the harp- strings. Quickly the monster awoke, and wielding a cudgel,— an oak tree,— Chased little Jack with a shout of mighty, maniacal anger; Jack to the beanpod sprang with a leap, and desperate hurl'd his Limbs in a downward, furious, headlong precipitation, But for a wink up-glanced; his foeman's ponderous hob-nails Shone from aloft: down crash'd big pods, and bean avalanches. "Haste mother, haste mother, oh! mother, haste, and bring me the hatchet!" Cried Jack, alighting on earth. She brought him an axe double-handed. Jack cleft clean thro' the haulm; that Giant desperate hurl'd his Limbs in a downward, roaring, thund'ring precipitation, Crash'd to the ground stone-dead with a crash as a crag from a mountain. "I'm your master now," said Jack to the harp at his elbow; "There's your old 'un! of him pray give your candid opinion!" Sweetly the mystical harp responded, "Master, a rascal!" The little pig built his house of bricks, strong and sturdy.