Stories 51-60

Story 51

Phileas has now arrived in Hong Kong, and what a beautiful country it is! While Phileas goes around in search of new adventures to tell you, he has left an old Chinese story which is told in verse for you...

The Golden Finger
by Edward Korel

Down to a muddy shore there came
One hot September day,
A beggar. wretched, starving, lame,
A man called Wang - the local name

For king, or so they say.

It must have been a cruel joke
To call him such a thing;
You wouldn't find a poorer bloke
So ill, unhappy and so broke,

And nothing like a King.

I doubt if he was any more
Than six or seven stones;
He dragged himself along, footsore,
Weak, hungry, shelter less and poor;

A walking bag of bones.

He stopped beside a river track,
Distressed in the extreme,
And, taking from his aching back
His dirty, ragged, haversack

He flung it in the stream.

And watching as it floated by,
Lifted his eyes to pray,
And with a deep, unhappy sigh,
He begged the lame, Immortal Li

To take his life away.

"Immortal Master of the Sky,
Look on the earth below!
Is it not better, Lord, that I
Should drown myself, and when I die

With you to heaven go?"

Great was the power of his prayer,
His terrible request,
That Li decided then and there
Down by the river to appear

And put him to the test.

"You are not fit for heaven yet,"
Declared the Immortal One.
"Your sins are many, I regret,
And you have not repaid the debt

"You owe to heaven, my son."

He handed him a melon leaf,
That glowed a brilliant red.
"There is a liquid underneath
The cover of the yellow sheaf,"

The wise Immortal said.

"Now dip your finger in it, please,"
Came the next quiet command.
"The smallest drops," Li said, "Of these
Will cure the very worst disease

Existing in the land."

The beggar did as he was told,
And much to his surprise,
His finger turned to purest gold,
And his lame leg, a wound of old,

Grew to its normal size.

"Your touch," Li added, "Furthermore,
Is not for gain or greed.
Help all those coming to your door,
However old, however poor,

Who come to you in need."

Thanking the God, he carried on
His new, exciting way,
Curing the miserable throng
Of sick and maimed he met along

The busy road that day.

Throughout the land the beggar's name
Soon spread by word of mouth,
From Tiensin in the North, his fame,
His reputation and acclaim

Reached Kowloon in the South.

Then came a plague throughout the land;
The wealthy and the poor,
Suffered alike at death's command,
And those who sought his healing hand

Came flocking to his door.

But all those folks with cash to pay
Soon turned the fellow's head.
"Why bother with the poor today
They'll soon be dying anyway?"

The greedy person said.

And so despite the vow he made
Upon the river bank,
He treated those with gold and jade,
The ermine and the silk brigade,

The wealthy men of rank.

And Wang, not only King by name,
Now as a monarch strode,
And daily grew his wealth and fame,
And people from around all came

Unto his grand abode.

One day, outside his marble door
There, standing in the queue,
A beggar, starving, lame he saw,
Whose wounds were gaping, red and raw

And terrible to view.

"Cure me, O Lord," declared the man,
Taking a step inside.
"Master, I've nothing much to give,
Oh touch me sir, and let me live,"

The wretched beggar cried.

"My skills are not for you," Wang said.
"I do not treat the poor.
If you have not the means to pay,
Die in the gutter then, I say,"

And slammed the marble door.

What happened next was never clear,
Or easy to explain,
The weather, good that time of year,
Warm, sunny, bright and crystal clear

Changed to a hurricane.

And up above great thunderbolts
Exploded all around,
And lightning with ferocious jolts,
At least a hundred thousand volts,

Came streaking to the ground.

But then there was a change of scene,
A very different mood:
A silence, splendid and serene,
And where the beggar once had been

Immortal Li now stood.

His face, a lovely Summer's day,
Shone in the sunlit sky,
He gave, however, by the way,
At seeing all that rich display

A deep, unhappy sigh.

No animal or creature stirred,
Or petal dared to fall.
"Vanish!" he said, the single word,
Quite soft, through clearly to be heard

And pointed to it all.

A stillness settled on the land,
Now like a sheet of ice,
The gorgeous clothes, the carriage and
The golden finger on Wang's hand

All vanished in a trice.

And with it all the world's acclaim
And everything of worth.
It was as if his very name,
And all the benefits of fame

Had vanished from the earth.

He woke beside the little stream
In cold and driving rain.
And rising, slowly in a dream,
And shocked and sad in the extreme,

Limped on is way again.
Story 52

 Whilst travelling around Hong Kong, Phileas wondered why there were so many pictures of dragons hanging up outside and being sold in the markets. Whilst in a very larger market, a market seller told Phileas a story.  And here it is for you........

The Dragon of Kinabalu

Towards the end of the fourteenth century, China had begun to trade with many surrounding countries. Large fleets of ships set sail and brought back treasures from all over the globe.
Laden with gifts from the Ming Emperor, the Chinese made a powerful and favourable impression upon the rulers of surrounding countries.
Between 1405 and 1431, Admiral Cheng Ho made several voyages between China and the Indian Ocean. It was during one such voyage that Cheng Ho visited Borneo and learned of the fierce dragon that lived on top of a high mountain. The dragon was said to be the guardian of a very precious pink pearl.
When he returned to China, Cheng Ho told the Emperor about the Dragon of Kinabalu and the precious pink pearl.  It was said that the dragon was very clever, and that many people had tried to steal the pearl but none had succeeded.  The mountain itself was very high, and the dragon lived right at the top way above the clouds.
The Emperor met with all of his courtiers to discuss how they might solve the problem of obtaining the pink pearl. They studied all of the information supplied by Admiral Cheng Ho and eventually a fleet of more than 10 ships set sail on the dangerous quest.
On board one of the ships were the Emperor’s two sons, Wee Ping and his younger brother Wee San. The brothers waved goodbye to their homeland and made for Borneo.
When the ships finally anchored off the coast of Sabah, the soldiers headed for shore using smaller boats.
They looked splendid in their uniforms of reddish-brown baggy trousers, brown boots and dark green shirts with frilly collars.  Around their waists they wore bright green sashes, and each carried a heavy metal spear and wore a protective metal hat with a large brim.
There were also foot soldiers with bows and arrows who wore special armour to protect the upper part of their body.  All of the soldiers marched up the long, winding road to the summit of Mount Kinabalu on their quest to steal the pink pearl from the dragon.
From his lair atop the mountain, the dragon watched as the soldiers made their way towards him. ‘What a strange sight,’ he thought. ‘These men think that they can simply march up the mountain and take my precious pink pearl!’
Just as the soldiers marched over the final crest towards the summit of the mountain, the dragon drew in a very deep breath. The soldiers could not believe their eyes when the creature appeared before them. It had a huge purple and blue and green body, huge red and black eyes, and deep maroon talons as long as swords!
Before the soldiers knew what was happening, a great wall of fire shot out from the dragon’s mouth and threatened to burn them all! They turned immediately and ran back down the mountainside, not wanting to be consumed by the flames.
The following day, Wee Ping and Wee San decided to accompany the soldiers to the top of the mountain, but the same thing happened once again: the fierce dragon appeared from out of nowhere, breathing a wall of fire that forced the soldiers back towards the small boats waiting in the harbour below.
Upon seeing the soldiers retreat is such haste, the dragon sat comfortably in his lair on top of the mountain and smiled to himself.
That evening, Wee Ping and Wee San tried to think of a way to outwit the dragon. ‘Surely’, thought Wee San, ‘there must be a time when the dragon leaves his mountaintop home in search of food?’
Wee San spent a very long time observing the surrounding countryside, and the following day he decided to climb a nearby mountain to see if he might get a better look at the dragon.
After climbing for some time, Wee San found himself walking through misty clouds that whirled about him.  Eventually the clouds parted and he could see a large group of trees at the summit. The trees were very old with thick trunks and good sturdy branches. Their leaves protected Wee San from being seen by the Dragon who was sitting in his lair on top of Mount Kinabalu.  The Dragon was looking below to see if any soldiers dared to approach his lair and try to steal his pearl.
After many hours, the dragon seemed to get restless. He got up from his vantage point and stretched his powerful legs. When he was satisfied there was no one around, he strolled away in search of food, leaving the pink pearl unguarded.
Wee San looked at the position of the sun in the sky so that he might be able to tell how long the dragon was away from his lair.  He hoped that it would be enough time for the soldiers to march up the mountain the following day and steal the precious pearl while the dragon was searching for food once more.
This idea was quashed very quickly, when suddenly the dragon appeared on the opposite mountaintop.
‘He could not have been away from his lair for more that a couple of hours,’ thought Wee San.
Disappointed, he climbed down from his position in the tree and made his way back to the soldiers in the harbour. But he decided to return the following day to check if the dragon always went in search of food at the same time.
Wee San climbed the same mountain for the next two days, always hiding in the trees so that he might spy on the dragon.  In this way he learned that the dragon did indeed go in search of food at the same time, and that he was always away from his lair for a few hours each time. But this information did not bring any solace to Wee San who knew that his soldiers could not climb Mount Kinabalu in just a few hours.
At that moment, a leaf from a nearby branch floated past Wee San and was carried on a gentle breeze towards the dragon sitting on top of Mount Kinabalu. This gave Wee San an idea, and so the young prince hurried back down the mountainside to talk to the kite-makers who lived in the village below.
He asked them to make a very large kite with sails and a small platform at its base. He also instructed the kite makers to attach a long rope so that the kite might be guided from the ground once launched.   
The following day, Wee San and a small group of soldiers climbed the mountain towards the trees above, there they hid themselves and spied on the dragon atop Mount Kinabalu. 
As soon as the dragon left his lair in search of food, Wee San stepped aboard the small platform fixed to the kite and the soldiers launched him into the air above.
The gentle winds carried Wee San and the kite towards the dragon’s lair on top of the neighbouring mountain, while the soldiers, far below, helped to guide the kite with the rope.
Wee San was soon floating above the dragon’s lair. When he was close enough, he reached down and took the pink pearl, replacing it with a pink Chinese lantern in the hopes of fooling the fierce dragon.
The soldiers pulled on the rope and the kite sailed back across the skies towards the safety of the trees. 
As soon as he landed back on the mountaintop, Wee San and his soldiers returned to the boats in the harbour. Together with his older brother Wee Ping, they rowed out to their great ships and set sail for home.
The fleet was not far from shore when they heard the most terrible, thundering roar!
The dragon had not been fooled by the Chinese lantern and was crashing down the mountainside towards the sea.  He was very angry; his eyes flared red and his long talons sliced through the trees at his feet.  His teeth flashed in his huge mouth; his scales flashed in the sunlight all blues and angry purples.  The dragon wanted to burn the ships and sink them to the bottom of the sea.
The fleet of ships were some distance from the shore but the dragon leapt into the water in pursuit.
Wee San was ready for such an attack and ordered his soldiers to load the ship’s cannon. A single shot was fired towards the dragon just as he reared up from the waves, ready to unleash his deadly flames upon the fleet of ships.
The dragon saw the round, fiery object coming towards him and mistook it for his precious pink pearl. He thought the soldiers had relented and were returning what they had stolen from him, so he opened his mouth to catch it.
The dragon caught the red-hot cannonball in his mouth and was killed immediately, sinking below the waves to the bottom of the ocean without a trace.  The soldiers cheered for Wee San who had saved them all and obtained for the emperor the precious pink pearl.
During the voyage back to China, Wee Ping grew jealous of his younger brother’s victory.  Although he did not show it, he did not like how the soldiers admired his brother, or how they talked of his bravery and cunning. It was during these long nights hiding in his cabin, Wee Ping decided he would like to keep the pearl for himself and not share the victory with his brave younger brother. Wee Ping knew that his father would be unlikely to let him have the pearl once he heard about his brother’s bravery and cunning, so he hatched a plan to claim the victory for himself. 
Eventually the fleet arrived back home and Wee Ping and Wee San visited their father in order to present him with the precious pink pearl.
Just as Wee San was about to offer his father the pearl, Wee Ping stepped forward and claimed that it was he who had the idea to build a kite, and that it was he who had outwitted and killed the fierce dragon.
Wee San was very disappointed in his older brother, but he did not reveal the truth to his father as he did not wish to cause any trouble for the emperor.  Instead, he returned to his ship in the harbour and set sail during the north-east monsoon.
Wee San allowed his ship to follow the winds because he did not care where they took him.  So once again the winds returned Wee San’s ship to the island where it came to rest at the mouth of the river Brunei.
When the Sultan learned of Wee San’s arrival, he sent his brother to welcome him. Gifts were exchanged, as was the custom of the time, and Wee San was made to feel very much at home.
Wee San became great friends with the Sultan and eventually asked permission to marry his daughter. The Sultan quickly consented because he had grown to love and respect Wee San.
The wedding day was a great celebration with much music and feasting.
Over the years, the Sultan became more and more aware of his son-in-law’s wisdom and courage. He felt that he could trust him with the future of the country and so he decided that when he died, Wee San - The Slayer of the Dragon of Kinabalu - would become the next Sultan of Brunei.
Wee San was honest in all of his dealings, and this honesty brought him happiness and respect. But his brother, Wee Ping, only brought sadness upon himself because of his lies and deceit.

 A Chinese Story by Lisa Conway

Story 53 

Here's another story, it's a Chinese folk tale. I hope you enjoy it and let us know if you know any other Chinese folk tales! 

The Island of the Sun

There was once a farmer who had two sons. The older son was selfish and greedy, while the younger son was kind and generous.
When the farmer died, the older brother took all of his land for himself leaving the younger brother with nothing except a basket and a sharp knife with which he could cut firewood.
He would go into the forest and chop wood and sell it in exchange for a little rice in the marketplace.
He was poor. He had nothing.
One day, the young brother climbed through the forest to the top of the mountain, and there he sat upon a rock gazing out towards the west where the sun was setting. And as he sat there all alone he felt a rush of air from above and he looked and there was a bright bird flying down towards him, a huge wingspan. He felt the beating of air, the rush of air. And then it landed next to him:
‘Why do you sit here all alone?’
‘I am poor. I have nothing.’
‘Is this true or is this false?’
‘It is true, I am poor. I have nothing.’
‘Then climb on my back,’ said the mighty bird, ‘and I will carry you to the Island of the Sun. There you may take one piece of gold before I bring you back.’
He climbed onto the back of the bird and the bird took off...
Away from the mountain the great bird flew.
Over the forest the great bird flew.
Over the waters the great bird flew.
To the Island of the Sun the great bird flew.
And as the bird landed, the sun set behind the island which glittered brightly, and the boy took one piece of gold. He put it in his basket and climbed onto the back of the great bird.
Away from the island the great bird flew.
Over the waters the great bird flew.
Over the forest the great bird flew.
Back to the mountain the great bird flew.
The young brother took that piece of gold and went down out of the forest. And there he bought a small piece of land. And there he reared pigs, cows, and a few hens.
He lived well. He worked hard.
But one day his older brother came.
‘Where did you find this wealth, this land?’
And the young brother told him.
‘I want this. Give me that old basket and your knife.’
And the older brother set off up through the forest. And when he came to that mountain he sat upon a rock and waited.
After a while he felt a rush of air and a beating of wings was heard. And there, as he gazed towards the west, towards the setting sun, a bird appeared from its bright rays, beating its wings, coming closer. It landed next to him:
‘Why do you sit here all alone?’
‘I am poor. I have nothing.’
‘Is this true or is this false?’
‘It is true, I am poor. I have nothing. I want gold!’
‘Climb on my back,’ said the great bird. ‘I will take you to the Island of the Sun. There you may take one piece of gold.’
Away from the mountain the great bird flew.
Over the forest the great bird flew.
Over the waters the great bird flew.
To the Island of the Sun the great bird flew.
And as it landed, the sun set behind the island. The older brother looked and saw sparkling gold everywhere. He picked up one piece and placed it in the basket.
‘The basket seems empty. I may as well take another.’
A second piece he placed in the basket, then a third. He continued picking up the largest chunks of gold until the basket was completely full.
Then he turned. And as he turned he saw that the bird had flown away and the sun was rising. He stood there and was burned to a crisp.
The young brother inherited his older brother’s land. He tended the land well and with love. And what he produced he shared with others of the community.
A Chinese folk tale told by David Heathfield
Story 54

Here we are at Story 54 already AND Phileas shall be pausing his trip telling stories to do some storytelling tomorrow in several libraries across Redbridge! So come and join Phileas and follow some of the stories that have been posted on the blog! Have photos, meet some friends and listen to Phileas as he recalls his trip from Around the World!

We shall be at Hainault Library at 10.30AM!
Gants Hill Library at 12AM!
Fullwell Cross Library at 2PM!
Rowans Breakfast Bar at 4PM!
Post on here for more details!

In the meantime, here is another wonderful story from China. I do hope you enjoy it!

The Lady Who Lives on the Moon
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful warrior called Chang’e who was married to a brave and strong archer named Houyi.  The couple were both immortals who lived in the heavens, and both were well known for their brave acts of courage against many dangerous adversaries. 
One day, the Queen Mother of the West summoned Chang’e and Houyi to earth because the Jade Emperor’s ten sons had turned themselves into orange balls of fire and were sitting in the sky above the earth.  The heat was too much for the earth.  Ten burning suns in the sky meant that it was never night time, and the earth never had a chance to cool. 
Soon the earth dried up, the rivers turned to dust, crops turned to ash, and the lands became barren.
Houyi was a very skilled archer who never missed his target. And so the brave warrior aimed up into the burning sky, and with his bow and arrow he shot down nine of the suns from the sky.  But Houyi left one sun to circle the earth for evermore so that there would be both night and day.
The jade Emperor was very angry with Chang’e and Houyi and banished them from the heavens for killing nine of his sons, even though he knew that they had done wrong.
And so Chang’e and Houyi had to begin a new life as mortals living on earth.
It was not very long before Chang’e grew restless with her new life.  She did not like living on earth and she missed the heavens and immortality. This restlessness soon turned to sadness, which then turned to anger at her banishment from the heavens.
Houyi felt guilty because he was the one who had used his bow and arrows to cast the Jade Emperor’s sons from the sky, and so he thought that it was his fault that Chang’e had been banished from the heavens.
One day, Houyi went to see the Queen Mother of the West: ‘what am I to do?’ he asked of the Queen.  ‘It is my fault that Chang’e is now a mortal.’
The Queen Mother felt very sad for Houyi so she gave to him an elixir of immortality. ‘Whoever drinks this elixir,’ said the Queen Mother of the West, ‘will be granted eternal life.  But there is only enough for one person,’ she warned, as she handed over the silver vial.
Houyi was very grateful to the Queen, but he knew that he could not give the elixir to  Chang’e because he could not bear to be parted from her side.  So Houyi hid the elixir from his wife and tried to make a happier life on earth for them both.
But one day, Chang’e discovered the vial containing the elixir while her husband was away hunting.  She was tired of living on earth, tired of mortality and the simple life she was forced to live.  And so Chang’e drank the elixir and was granted immortality.  Suddenly her body became very light and drifted up into the sky. But instead of returning to the heavens, Chang’e came to rest on the moon where she was quite alone except for the company of a small white rabbit.
Houyi was very angry when he returned home and discovered that Chang’e had taken the elixir and abandoned him on earth to live alone.  He raised his bow to the night sky and took aim at the moon, but he could not shoot the moon from the sky for fear that he would pierce the heart of his beloved wife.
So Houyi was forced to live alone on earth where he hunted and taught archery to his students.  It was not a happy life, and one day Houyi was killed by one of his own students who was known to be jealous of the warrior’s skill and bravery.
Chang’e achieved the immortality she wanted so desperately, but she remains to this day alone in her palace on the moon with only a white rabbit for company.  She will forever be without her beloved husband Houyi.
 Each year, on the 15th of August, Chinese people bake Moon Cakes and look up at the night sky.  If it is a clear night, it is said that Chang’e can be seen sitting alone in her palace on the moon with her only friend, the white rabbit.


Story 55

Phileas has just travelled by boat from Hong Kong to Yokohama (which is in Japan), and as soon as he arrived a wise old fisherman told him a wonderful fairytale.

The Farmer and the Badger

Long, long ago, there lived an old farmer and his wife who had made their home in the mountains, far from any town. Their only neighbor was a bad and malicious badger. This badger used to come out every night and run across to the farmer's field and spoil the vegetables and the rice which the farmer spent his time in carefully cultivating. The badger at last grew so ruthless in his mischievous work, and did so much harm everywhere on the farm, that the good-natured farmer could not stand it any longer, and determined to put a stop to it. So he lay in wait day after day and night after night, with a big club, hoping to catch the badger, but all in vain. Then he laid traps for the wicked animal.
The farmer's trouble and patience was rewarded, for one fine day on going his rounds he found the badger caught in a hole he had dug for that purpose. The farmer was delighted at having caught his enemy, and carried him home securely bound with rope. When he reached the house the farmer said to his wife:
"I have at last caught the bad badger. You must keep an eye on him while I am out at work and not let him escape, because I want to make him into soup to-night."
Saying this, he hung the badger up to the rafters of his storehouse and went out to his work in the fields. The badger was in great distress, for he did not at all like the idea of being made into soup that night, and he thought and thought for a long time, trying to hit upon some plan by which he might escape. It was hard to think clearly in his uncomfortable position, for he had been hung upside down. Very near him, at the entrance to the storehouse, looking out towards the green fields and the trees and the pleasant sunshine, stood the farmer's old wife pounding barley. She looked tired and old. Her face was seamed with many wrinkles, and was as brown as leather, and every now and then she stopped to wipe the perspiration which rolled down her face.
"Dear lady," said the wily badger, "you must be very weary doing such heavy work in your old age. Won't you let me do that for you? My arms are very strong, and I could relieve you for a little while!"
"Thank you for your kindness," said the old woman, "but I cannot let you do this work for me because I must not untie you, for you might escape if I did, and my husband would be very angry if he came home and found you gone."
Now, the badger is one of the most cunning of animals, and he said again in a very sad, gentle, voice:
"You are very unkind. You might untie me, for I promise not to try to escape. If you are afraid of your husband, I will let you bind me again before his return when I have finished pounding the barley. I am so tired and sore tied up like this. If you would only let me down for a few minutes I would indeed be thankful!"
The old woman had a good and simple nature, and could not think badly of any one. Much less did she think that the badger was only deceiving her in order to get away. She felt sorry, too, for the animal as she turned to look at him. He looked in such a sad plight hanging downwards from the ceiling by his legs, which were all tied together so tightly that the rope and the knots were cutting into the skin. So in the kindness of her heart, and believing the creature's promise that he would not run away, she untied the cord and let him down.
The old woman then gave him the wooden pestle and told him to do the work for a short time while she rested. He took the pestle, but instead of doing the work as he was told, the badger at once sprang upon the old woman and knocked her down with the heavy piece of wood. He then killed her and cut her up and made soup of her, and waited for the return of the old farmer. The old man worked hard in his fields all day, and as he worked he thought with pleasure that no more now would his labor be spoiled by the destructive badger.
Towards sunset he left his work and turned to go home. He was very tired, but the thought of the nice supper of hot badger soup awaiting his return cheered him. The thought that the badger might get free and take revenge on the poor old woman never once came into his mind.
The badger meanwhile assumed the old woman's form, and as soon as he saw the old farmer approaching came out to greet him on the veranda of the little house, saying:
"So you have come back at last. I have made the badger soup and have been waiting for you for a long time."
The old farmer quickly took off his straw sandals and sat down before his tiny dinner-tray. The innocent man never even dreamed that it was not his wife but the badger who was waiting upon him, and asked at once for the soup. Then the badger suddenly transformed himself back to his natural form and cried out:
"You wife-eating old man! Look out for the bones in the kitchen!"
Laughing loudly and derisively he escaped out of the house and ran away to his den in the hills. The old man was left behind alone. He could hardly believe what he had seen and heard. Then when he understood the whole truth he was so scared and horrified that he fainted right away. After a while he came round and burst into tears. He cried loudly and bitterly. He rocked himself to and fro in his hopeless grief. It seemed too terrible to be real that his faithful old wife had been killed and cooked by the badger while he was working quietly in the fields, knowing nothing of what was going on at home, and congratulating himself on having once for all got rid of the wicked animal who had so often spoiled his fields. And oh! the horrible thought; he had very nearly drunk the soup which the creature had made of his poor old woman. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" he wailed aloud. Now, not far away there lived in the same mountain a kind, good-natured old rabbit. He heard the old man crying and sobbing and at once set out to see what was the matter, and if there was anything he could do to help his neighbor. The old man told him all that had happened. When the rabbit heard the story he was very angry at the wicked and deceitful badger, and told the old man to leave everything to him and he would avenge his wife's death. The farmer was at last comforted, and, wiping away his tears, thanked the rabbit for his goodness in coming to him in his distress.
The rabbit, seeing that the farmer was growing calmer, went back to his home to lay his plans for the punishment of the badger.
The next day the weather was fine, and the rabbit went out to find the badger. He was not to be seen in the woods or on the hillside or in the fields anywhere, so the rabbit went to his den and found the badger hiding there, for the animal had been afraid to show himself ever since he had escaped from the farmer's house, for fear of the old man's wrath.
The rabbit called out:
"Why are you not out on such a beautiful day? Come out with me, and we will go and cut grass on the hills together."
The badger, never doubting but that the rabbit was his friend, willingly consented to go out with him, only too glad to get away from the neighborhood of the farmer and the fear of meeting him. The rabbit led the way miles away from their homes, out on the hills where the grass grew tall and thick and sweet. They both set to work to cut down as much as they could carry home, to store it up for their winter's food. When they had each cut down all they wanted they tied it in bundles and then started homewards, each carrying his bundle of grass on his back. This time the rabbit made the badger go first.
When they had gone a little way the rabbit took out a flint and steel, and, striking it over the badger's back as he stepped along in front, set his bundle of grass on fire. The badger heard the flint striking, and asked:
"What is that noise. 'Crack, crack'?"
"Oh, that is nothing." replied the rabbit; "I only said 'Crack, crack' because this mountain is called Crackling Mountain."
The fire soon spread in the bundle of dry grass on the badger's back. The badger, hearing the crackle of the burning grass, asked, "What is that?"
"Now we have come to the 'Burning Mountain,'" answered the rabbit.
By this time the bundle was nearly burned out and all the hair had been burned off the badger's back. He now knew what had happened by the smell of the smoke of the burning grass. Screaming with pain the badger ran as fast as he could to his hole. The rabbit followed and found him lying on his bed groaning with pain.
"What an unlucky fellow you are!" said the rabbit. "I can't imagine how this happened! I will bring you some medicine which will heal your back quickly!"
The rabbit went away glad and smiling to think that the punishment upon the badger had already begun. He hoped that the badger would die of his burns, for he felt that nothing could be too bad for the animal, who was guilty of murdering a poor helpless old woman who had trusted him. He went home and made an ointment by mixing some sauce and red pepper together.
He carried this to the badger, but before putting it on he told him that it would cause him great pain, but that he must bear it patiently, because it was a very wonderful medicine for burns and scalds and such wounds. The badger thanked him and begged him to apply it at once. But no language can describe the agony of the badger as soon as the red pepper had been pasted all over his sore back. He rolled over and over and howled loudly. The rabbit, looking on, felt that the farmer's wife was beginning to be avenged.
The badger was in bed for about a month; but at last, in spite of the red pepper application, his burns healed and he got well. When the rabbit saw that the badger was getting well, he thought of another plan by which he could compass the creature's death. So he went one day to pay the badger a visit and to congratulate him on his recovery.
During the conversation the rabbit mentioned that he was going fishing, and described how pleasant fishing was when the weather was fine and the sea smooth.
The badger listened with pleasure to the rabbit's account of the way he passed his time now, and forgot all his pains and his month's illness, and thought what fun it would be if he could go fishing too; so he asked the rabbit if he would take him the next time he went out to fish. This was just what the rabbit wanted, so he agreed.
Then he went home and built two boats, one of wood and the other of clay. At last they were both finished, and as the rabbit stood and looked at his work he felt that all his trouble would be well rewarded if his plan succeeded, and he could manage to kill the wicked badger now.
The day came when the rabbit had arranged to take the badger fishing. He kept the wooden boat himself and gave the badger the clay boat. The badger, who knew nothing about boats, was delighted with his new boat and thought how kind it was of the rabbit to give it to him. They both got into their boats and set out. After going some distance from the shore the rabbit proposed that they should try their boats and see which one could go the quickest. The badger fell in with the proposal, and they both set to work to row as fast as they could for some time. In the middle of the race the badger found his boat going to pieces, for the water now began to soften the clay. He cried out in great fear to the rabbit to help him. But the rabbit answered that he was avenging the old woman's murder, and that this had been his intention all along, and that he was happy to think that the badger had at last met his deserts for all his evil crimes, and was to drown with no one to help him. Then he raised his oar and struck at the badger with all his strength till he fell with the sinking clay boat and was seen no more.
Thus at last he kept his promise to the old farmer. The rabbit now turned and rowed shorewards, and having landed and pulled his boat upon the beach, hurried back to tell the old farmer everything, and how the badger, his enemy, had been killed.

Story from:
Title: Japanese Fairy Tales
Author: Yei Theodora Ozaki 
  Published: 1908

  Publisher: Grosset & Dunlap Publishers, Ney York

Story Number 56


Phileas was invited to stay with a kind old couple who shared their food and Sake with Phileas, in return Phileas had to share stories with them, stories from his travels and also fairy tales which Phileas knew. Phileas told them all about the people he had met, the places he had seen and all the stories he had been told. After Phileas had exhausted all the stories from his travels, he started to ask the old couple questions, such as have they travelled outside of Japan, in which they replied no they have always lived here and they had never wished to leave. Phileas also asked if they had any children, in which they replied yes, they have a son called Issun Boshi. "Would you like to hear the story of my son Phileas? The story of Issun Boshi is a well known tale told around the whole of Japan. I guess you could say my son is famous," said the old man, "I would be delighted to hear the story of Issun Boshi, Please do tell." Said Phileas, who has already started to make himself comfortable.

Issun Boshi

An old couple were very happy, except for one thing – they wanted a child. So they prayed at an altar, asking for a child, no matter how small he was. Their prayers were answered when they had a tiny baby, called Issun-bōshi. Despite his size (no bigger than a fingertip), the couple loved him greatly and he turned into a nice, well-respected young man, although he never grew any larger.

One day, Issun-bōshi told his parents he wanted to make his own way in the world. They were understandably worried about him, but knowing he was a nice boy, they trusted him, so let him go. They gave him a needle as a sword, a rice bowl as a boat, and a chopstick as an oar.

Issun-bōshi made his way to the city via his bowl in the river and after a few days, he reached the lord’s mansion. He told the guard at the gate that he had come to the city to work and he would like to become a servant. When the guard eventually noticed the tiny young man, he took him to the lord. In the palm of the lord’s hand, Issun-bōshi bowed and pledged his loyalty. Impressed with his bravery and manners, the lord employed him and soon he was a very popular member of staff at the mansion. He was especially popular with the lord’s daughter, and eventually became her personal assistant.

One day, the lord’s daughter took Issun-bōshi to the temple with her, but on the way they met two ogres. Jumping to the daughters defence, Issun-bōshi unleashed his needle sword, but alas, one of the monsters simply swallowed him whole. Issun-bōshi fiercely started to jab his miniature sword into the inside of the ogre’s stomach, making him throw the tiny lad up. Once he was free, Issun-bōshi started to jab the two ogres in the eyes, making them run off screaming. However, they left their magical hammer behind. Picking it up, the lord’s daughter said, “If you use this hammer, it will grant you a wish. What would you like? Money? Rice?” Issun-bōshi replied, “Neither. I would like to be a full-sized man.” So the daughter made the wish and waved the hammer. Before her eyes, the tiny young man grew into a full-sized handsome gentleman. Both the daughter and Issun-bōshi were delighted and they soon married, living happily ever after!

The meaning behind the story?

Bring up your children well, and with love, and they can overcome anything. And striking out on your own encourages personal growth and development.

Story Number 57

As Phileas did not want to impose on this lovely couple any more he decided that he would try and find another place to stay for the next few days. But the couple insisted that Phileas should stay with them for the rest of his time in Japan. That evening Phileas insisted on going for a walk with the couple to find out all he could about the wonderful country he was in. While on their walk  Phileas and the couple pasted a wonderful statue of a Crane Bird. Phileas was so intrigued but this statue he had to find out all he could about it, "Why is their a statue of a Crane" asked Phileas. "That is to remind everyone of the wonderful story of Urashima Taro, would you like to hear it?"
"Please!" replied Phileas with excitement. Phileas and the couple found a lovely bench to sit on, and the story was told...

Urashima Taro.

Long, long ago in a faraway village by the sea, a young fisherman named Urashima Taro lived a modest life with his old mother. One fall, the sea was rough day after day and Urashima Taro was unable to fish. Early one morning he went down to the shore and watched the choppy sea. He suddenly noticed three boys close to him, teasing and hitting a turtle with heavy sticks. "How dare you hurt a creature like that?" shouted Urashima Taro, chasing the boys away.

The next day Urashima Taro went to the shore again and saw the turtle's head poking out from the waves. "I owe you my life!" said the grateful turtle as it came out of the sea to meet Urashima Taro. "As a token of my thanks, I would like to take you to the Dragon Palace." Urashima Taro thought this was a splendid idea, but felt that he could not leave his old mother alone at home. "We won't be long," assured the turtle, so Urashima Taro accepted the invitation and climbed onto the turtle's back. The turtle dived deep into the sea.

Gliding along, they neared a castle, glittering with gold and silver. From it emerged a charming, beautifully dressed princess, accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting and a host of fish. She took Urashima Taro into the palace, where an exquisite banquet was spread out for him.

While dining endlessly on delicacies and drinking fine wine, he was entertained with gorgeous music and dancing beauties and fish. Urashima Taro was spellbound. Before he knew it, three whole years had passed.
Finally coming out of his spell, Urashima Taro said he wanted to return home. As a farewell gift, the Sea-Princess handed him a three-tiered tamatebako (jeweled hand-box), saying: "If you find yourself in trouble or at a loss, please open it up." With the box tightly secured under his arm, Urashima Taro once more climbed onto the turtle's back and set off for home.
Back in his village, Taro was puzzled to see that the rivers and mountains had changed their shapes beyond recognition and that many trees had withered. Approaching an old farmer, Taro asked him, "Do you happen to know where to find the house of Urashima Taro, a fisherman who used to live here?"
The old man replied, "When my grandfather was a young man, someone by that name was said to have traveled to the Dragon Palace. He was never heard of again." Taro felt lost and lonely. His mother had died and all that was left of his house was an overgrown patch of garden.

Not knowing what to do, Urashima Taro remembered the words of the Sea-Princess as she handed him the precious hand-box. He opened up the top drawer and found a crane's feather. Then he opened the middle drawer; all at once white smoke poured out and enveloped him. In space of few seconds, Urashima Taro became a silver-haired, hunched-over old man. Looking at himself in the mirror that he found in the bottom drawer, Taro was dumbfounded to see how he had aged.

While he wondered how this was possible, a wind swept up the crane's feather and blew it onto Taro's back. In a flash, Urashima Taro was transformed into a crane, and he flew high into the skies. The turtle, who was actually none other than the Sea-Princess herself, gazed up quietly at Taro from the sea below.

For more wonderful stories please go to: http://web-japan.org/kidsweb/folk/urashimataro/index.html


Story 58!

The Two Frogs

Once upon a time in the country of Japan there lived two frogs, one of whom made his home in a ditch near the town of Osaka, on the sea coast, while the other dwelt in a clear little stream which ran through the city of Kyoto. At such a great distance apart, they had never even heard of each other; but, funnily enough, the idea came into both their heads at once that they should like to see a little of the world, and the frog who lived at Kyoto wanted to visit Osaka, and the frog who lived at Osaka wished to go to Kyoto, where the great Mikado had his palace.

So one fine morning in the spring they both set out along the road that led from Kyoto to Osaka, one from one end and the other from the other. The journey was more tiring than they expected, for they did not know much about traveling, and halfway between the two towns there arose a mountain which had to be climbed. It took them a long time and a great many hops to reach the top, but there they were at last, and what was the surprise of each to see another frog before him!

They looked at each other for a moment without speaking, and then fell into conversation, explaining the cause of their meeting so far from their homes. It was delightful to find that they both felt the same wish--to learn a little more of their native country--and as there was no sort of hurry they stretched themselves out in a cool, damp place, and agreed that they would have a good rest before they parted to go their ways.

"What a pity we are not bigger," said the Osaka frog; "for then we could see both towns from here, and tell if it is worth our while going on."

"Oh, that is easily managed," returned the Kyoto frog. "We have only got to stand up on our hind legs, and hold onto each other, and then we can each look at the town he is traveling to."

This idea pleased the Osaka frog so much that he at once jumped up and put his front paws on the shoulder of his friend, who had risen also. There they both stood, stretching themselves as high as they could, and holding each other tightly, so that they might not fall down. The Kyoto frog turned his nose towards Osaka, and the Osaka frog turned his nose towards Kyoto; but the foolish things forgot that when they stood up their great eyes lay in the backs of their heads, and that though their noses might point to the places to which they wanted to go, their eyes beheld the places from which they had come.

"Dear me!" cried the Osaka frog, "Kyoto is exactly like Osaka. It is certainly not worth such a long journey. I shall go home!"

"If I had had any idea that Osaka was only a copy of Kyoto I should never have traveled all this way," exclaimed the frog from Kyoto, and as he spoke he took his hands from his friend's shoulders, and they both fell down on the grass. Then they took a polite farewell of each other, and set off for home again, and to the end of their lives they believed that Osaka and Kyoto, which are as different to look at as two towns can be, were as alike as two peas.

For other stories, why not visit: http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/japan.html#twofrogs

Story 59

On Phileas' travel around Japan he was told this most wonderful Japanese Fairytale and he wanted to share it with you...

The Jelly Fish and the Monkey

Long, long ago, in old Japan, the Kingdom of the Sea was governed by a wonderful King. He was called Rin Jin, or the Dragon King of the Sea. His power was immense, for he was the ruler of all sea creatures both great and small, and in his keeping were the Jewels of the Ebb and Flow of the Tide. The Jewel of the Ebbing Tide when thrown into the ocean caused the sea to recede from the land, and the Jewel of the Flowing Tide made the waves to rise mountains high and to flow in upon the shore like a tidal wave.
The Palace of Rin Jin was at the bottom of the sea, and was so beautiful that no one has ever seen anything like it even in dreams. The walls were of coral, the roof of jadestone and chrysoprase, and the floors were of the finest mother-of-pearl. But the Dragon King, in spite of his wide-spreading Kingdom, his beautiful Palace and all its wonders, and his power which none disputed throughout the whole sea, was not at all happy, for he reigned alone. At last he thought that if he married he would not only be happier, but also more powerful. So he decided to take a wife. Calling all his fish retainers together, he chose several of them as ambassadors to go through the sea and seek for a young Dragon Princess who would be his bride.
At last they returned to the Palace bringing with them a lovely young dragon. Her scales were of glittering green like the wings of summer beetles, her eyes threw out glances of fire, and she was dressed in gorgeous robes. All the jewels of the sea worked in with embroidery adorned them.
The King fell in love with her at once, and the wedding ceremony was celebrated with great splendor. Every living thing in the sea, from the great whales down to the little shrimps, came in shoals to offer their congratulations to the bride and bridegroom and to wish them a long and prosperous life. Never had there been such an assemblage or such gay festivities in the Fish-World before. The train of bearers who carried the bride's possessions to her new home seemed to reach across the waves from one end of the sea to the other. Each fish carried a phosphorescent lantern and was dressed in ceremonial robes, gleaming blue and pink and silver; and the waves as they rose and fell and broke that night seemed to be rolling masses of white and green fire, for the phosphorus shone with double brilliancy in honor of the event.
Now for a time the Dragon King and his bride lived very happily. They loved each other dearly, and the bridegroom day after day took delight in showing his bride all the wonders and treasures of his coral Palace, and she was never tired of wandering with him through its vast halls and gardens. Life seemed to them both like a long summer's day.
Two months passed in this happy way, and then the Dragon Queen fell ill and was obliged to stay in bed. The King was sorely troubled when he saw his precious bride so ill, and at once sent for the fish doctor to come and give her some medicine. He gave special orders to the servants to nurse her carefully and to wait upon her with diligence, but in spite of all the nurses' assiduous care and the medicine that the doctor prescribed, the young Queen showed no signs of recovery, but grew daily worse.
Then the Dragon King interviewed the doctor and blamed him for not curing the Queen. The doctor was alarmed at Rin Jin's evident displeasure, and excused his want of skill by saying that although he knew the right kind of medicine to give the invalid, it was impossible to find it in the sea.
"Do you mean to tell me that you can't get the medicine here?" asked the Dragon King.
"It is just as you say!" said the doctor.
"Tell me what it is you want for the Queen?" demanded Rin Jin.
"I want the liver of a live monkey!" answered the doctor.
"The liver of a live monkey! Of course that will be most difficult to get," said the King.
"If we could only get that for the Queen, Her Majesty would soon recover," said the doctor.
"Very well, that decides it; we MUST get it somehow or other. But where are we most likely to find a monkey?" asked the King.
Then the doctor told the Dragon King that some distance to the south there was a Monkey Island 
where a great many monkeys lived.

"If only you could capture one of these monkeys?" said the doctor.
"How can any of my people capture a monkey?" said the Dragon King, greatly puzzled. "The monkeys live on dry land, while we live in the water; and out of our element we are quite powerless! I don't see what we can do!"
"That has been my difficulty too," said the doctor. "But amongst your innumerable servants you surely can find one who can go on shore for that express purpose!"
"Something must be done," said the King, and calling his chief steward he consulted him on the matter.
The chief steward thought for some time, and then, as if struck by a sudden thought, said joyfully:
"I know what we must do! There is the kurage (jelly fish). He is certainly ugly to look at, but he is proud of being able to walk on land with his four legs like a tortoise. Let us send him to the Island of Monkeys to catch one."
The jelly fish was then summoned to the King's presence, and was told by His Majesty what was required of him.
The jelly fish, on being told of the unexpected mission which was to be intrusted to him, looked very troubled, and said that he had never been to the island in question, and as he had never had any experience in catching monkeys he was afraid that he would not be able to get one.
"Well," said the chief steward, "if you depend on your strength or dexterity you will never catch a monkey. The only way is to play a trick on one!"
"How can I play a trick on a monkey? I don't know how to do it," said the perplexed jelly fish.
"This is what you must do," said the wily chief steward. "When you approach the Island of Monkeys and meet some of them, you must try to get very friendly with one. Tell him that you are a servant of the Dragon King, and invite him to come and visit you and see the Dragon King's Palace. Try and describe to him as vividly as you can the grandeur of the Palace and the wonders of the sea so as to arouse his curiosity and make him long to see it all!"
"But how am I to get the monkey here? You know monkeys don't swim?" said the reluctant jelly fish.
"You must carry him on your back. What is the use of your shell if you can't do that!" said the chief steward.
"Won't he be very heavy?" queried kurage again.
"You mustn't mind that, for you are working for the Dragon King," replied the chief steward.
"I will do my best then," said the jelly fish, and he swam away from the Palace and started off towards the Monkey Island
. Swimming swiftly he reached his destination in a few hours, and landed by a convenient wave upon the shore. On looking round he saw not far away a big pine-tree with drooping branches and on one of those branches was just what he was looking for—a live monkey.

"I'm in luck!" thought the jelly fish. "Now I must flatter the creature and try to entice him to come back with me to the Palace, and my part will be done!"
So the jelly fish slowly walked towards the pine-tree. In those ancient days the jelly fish had four legs and a hard shell like a tortoise. When he got to the pine-tree he raised his voice and said:
"How do you do, Mr. Monkey? Isn't it a lovely day?"
"A very fine day," answered the monkey from the tree. "I have never seen you in this part of the world before. Where have you come from and what is your name?"
"My name is kurage or jelly fish. I am one of the servants of the Dragon King. I have heard so much of your beautiful island that I have come on purpose to see it," answered the jelly fish.
"I am very glad to see you," said the monkey.
"By the bye," said the jelly fish, "have you ever seen the Palace of the Dragon King of the Sea where I live?"
"I have often heard of it, but I have never seen it!" answered the monkey.
"Then you ought most surely to come. It is a great pity for you to go through life without seeing it. The beauty of the Palace is beyond all description—it is certainly to my mind the most lovely place in the world," said the jelly fish.
"Is it so beautiful as all that?" asked the monkey in astonishment.
Then the jelly fish saw his chance, and went on describing to the best of his ability the beauty and grandeur of the Sea King's Palace, and the wonders of the garden with its curious trees of white, pink and red coral, and the still more curious fruits like great jewels hanging on the branches. The monkey grew more and more interested, and as he listened he came down the tree step by step so as not to lose a word of the wonderful story.
"I have got him at last!" thought the jelly fish, but aloud he said:
"Mr. Monkey. I must now go back. As you have never seen the Palace of the Dragon King, won't you avail yourself of this splendid opportunity by coming with me? I shall then be able to act as guide and show you all the sights of the sea, which will be even more wonderful to you—a land-lubber."
"I should love to go," said the monkey, "but how am I to cross the water! I can't swim, as you surely know!"
"There is no difficulty about that. I can carry you on my back."
"That will be troubling you too much," said the monkey.
"I can do it quite easily. I am stronger than I look, so you needn't hesitate," said the jelly fish, and taking the monkey on his back he stepped into the sea.
"Keep very still, Mr. monkey," said the jelly fish. "You mustn't fall into the sea; I am responsible for your safe arrival at the King's Palace."
"Please don't go so fast, or I am sure I shall fall off," said the monkey.
Thus they went along, the jelly fish skimming through the waves with the monkey sitting on his back. When they were about half-way, the jelly fish, who knew very little of anatomy, began to wonder if the monkey had his liver with him or not!
"Mr. Monkey, tell me, have you such a thing as a liver with you?"
The monkey was very much surprised at this queer question, and asked what the jelly fish wanted with a liver.
"That is the most important thing of all," said the stupid jelly fish, "so as soon as I recollected it, I asked you if you had yours with you?"
"Why is my liver so important to you?" asked the monkey.
"Oh! you will learn the reason later," said the jelly fish.
The monkey grew more and more curious and suspicious, and urged the jelly fish to tell him for what his liver was wanted, and ended up by appealing to his hearer's feelings by saying that he was very troubled at what he had been told.
Then the jelly fish, seeing how anxious the monkey looked, was sorry for him, and told him everything. How the Dragon Queen had fallen ill, and how the doctor had said that only the liver of a live monkey would cure her, and how the Dragon King had sent him to find one.
"Now I have done as I was told, and as soon as we arrive at the Palace the doctor will want your liver, so I feel sorry for you!" said the silly jelly fish.
The poor monkey was horrified when he learnt all this, and very angry at the trick played upon him. He trembled with fear at the thought of what was in store for him.
But the monkey was a clever animal, and he thought it the wisest plan not to show any sign of the fear he felt, so he tried to calm himself and to think of some way by which he might escape.
"The doctor means to cut me open and then take my liver out! Why I shall die!" thought the monkey. At last a bright thought struck him, so he said quite cheerfully to the jelly fish:
"What a pity it was, Mr. Jelly Fish, that you did not speak of this before we left the island!"
"If I had told why I wanted you to accompany me you would certainly have refused to come," answered the jelly fish.
"You are quite mistaken," said the monkey. "Monkeys can very well spare a liver or two, especially when it is wanted for the Dragon Queen of the Sea. If I had only guessed of what you were in need. I should have presented you with one without waiting to be asked. I have several livers. But the greatest pity is, that as you did not speak in time, I have left all my livers hanging on the pine-tree."
"Have you left your liver behind you?" asked the jelly fish.
"Yes," said the cunning monkey, "during the daytime I usually leave my liver hanging up on the branch of a tree, as it is very much in the way when I am climbing about from tree to tree. To-day, listening to your interesting conversation, I quite forgot it, and left it behind when I came off with you. If only you had spoken in time I should have remembered it, and should have brought it along with me!"
The jelly fish was very disappointed when he heard this, for he believed every word the monkey said. The monkey was of no good without a liver. Finally the jelly fish stopped and told the monkey so.
"Well," said the monkey, "that is soon remedied. I am really sorry to think of all your trouble; but if you will only take me back to the place where you found me, I shall soon be able to get my liver."
The jelly fish did not at all like the idea of going all the way back to the island again; but the monkey assured him that if he would be so kind as to take him back he would get his very best liver, and bring it with him the next time. Thus persuaded, the jelly fish turned his course towards the Monkey Island
 once more.

No sooner had the jelly fish reached the shore than the sly monkey landed, and getting up into the pine-tree where the jelly fish had first seen him, he cut several capers amongst the branches with joy at being safe home again, and then looking down at the jelly fish said:
"So many thanks for all the trouble you have taken! Please present my compliments to the Dragon King on your return!"
The jelly fish wondered at this speech and the mocking tone in which it was uttered. Then he asked the monkey if it wasn't his intention to come with him at once after getting his liver.
The monkey replied laughingly that he couldn't afford to lose his liver: it was too precious.
"But remember your promise!" pleaded the jelly fish, now very discouraged.
"That promise was false, and anyhow it is now broken!" answered the monkey. Then he began to jeer at the jelly fish and told him that he had been deceiving him the whole time; that he had no wish to lose his life, which he certainly would have done had he gone on to the Sea King's Palace to the old doctor waiting for him, instead of persuading the jelly fish to return under false pretenses.
"Of course, I won't GIVE you my liver, but come and get it if you can!" added the monkey mockingly from the tree.
There was nothing for the jelly fish to do now but to repent of his stupidity, and to return to the Dragon King of the Sea and to confess his failure, so he started sadly and slowly to swim back. The last thing he heard as he glided away, leaving the island behind him, was the monkey laughing at him.
Meanwhile the Dragon King, the doctor, the chief steward, and all the servants were waiting impatiently for the return of the jelly fish. When they caught sight of him approaching the Palace, they hailed him with delight. They began to thank him profusely for all the trouble he had taken in going to Monkey Island
, and then they asked him where the monkey was.

Now the day of reckoning had come for the jelly fish. He quaked all over as he told his story. How he had brought the monkey halfway over the sea, and then had stupidly let out the secret of his commission; how the monkey had deceived him by making him believe that he had left his liver behind him.
The Dragon King's wrath was great, and he at once gave orders that the jelly fish was to be severely punished. The punishment was a horrible one. All the bones were to be drawn out from his living body, and he was to be beaten with sticks.
The poor jelly fish, humiliated and horrified beyond all words, cried out for pardon. But the Dragon King's order had to be obeyed. The servants of the Palace forthwith each brought out a stick and surrounded the jelly fish, and after pulling out his bones they beat him to a flat pulp, and then took him out beyond the Palace gates and threw him into the water. Here he was left to suffer and repent his foolish chattering, and to grow accustomed to his new state of bonelessness.

Story 60

Phileas is having the most wonderful time in Japan and he can not wait to see you all at the Fairlop Fair to tell you stories from his journey, but while we wait just another 20 days for his return he left us with this story...

The Quarrel of the Monkey and the Crab

Long, long ago, one bright autumn day in Japan, it happened, that a pink-faced monkey and a yellow crab were playing together along the bank of a river. As they were running about, the crab found a rice-dumpling and the monkey a persimmon-seed.
The crab picked up the rice-dumpling and showed it to the monkey, saying:
"Look what a nice thing I have found!"
Then the monkey held up his persimmon-seed and said:
"I also have found something good! Look!"
Now though the monkey is always very fond of persimmon fruit, he had no use for the seed he had just found. The persimmon-seed is as hard and uneatable as a stone. He, therefore, in his greedy nature, felt very envious of the crab's nice dumpling, and he proposed an exchange. The crab naturally did not see why he should give up his prize for a hard stone-like seed, and would not consent to the monkey's proposition.
Then the cunning monkey began to persuade the crab, saying:
"How unwise you are not to think of the future! Your rice-dumpling can be eaten now, and is certainly much bigger than my seed; but if you sow this seed in the ground it will soon grow and become a great tree in a few years, and bear an abundance of fine ripe persimmons year after year. If only I could show it to you then with the yellow fruit hanging on its branches! Of course, if you don't believe me I shall sow it myself; though I am sure, later on, you will be very sorry that you did not take my advice."
The simple-minded crab could not resist the monkey's clever persuasion. He at last gave in and consented to the monkey's proposal, and the exchange was made. The greedy monkey soon gobbled up the dumpling, and with great reluctance gave up the persimmon-seed to the crab. He would have liked to keep that too, but he was afraid of making the crab angry and of being pinched by his sharp scissor-like claws. They then separated, the monkey going home to his forest trees and the crab to his stones along the river-side. As soon as the crab reached home he put the persimmon-seed in the ground as the monkey had told him.
In the following spring the crab was delighted to see the shoot of a young tree push its way up through the ground. Each year it grew bigger, till at last it blossomed one spring, and in the following autumn bore some fine large persimmons. Among the broad smooth green leaves the fruit hung like golden balls, and as they ripened they mellowed to a deep orange. It was the little crab's pleasure to go out day by day and sit in the sun and put out his long eyes in the same way as a snail puts out its horn, and watch the persimmons ripening to perfection.
"How delicious they will be to eat!" he said to himself.
At last, one day, he knew the persimmons must be quite ripe and he wanted very much to taste one. He made several attempts to climb the tree, in the vain hope of reaching one of the beautiful persimmons hanging above him; but he failed each time, for a crab's legs are not made for climbing trees but only for running along the ground and over stones, both of which he can do most cleverly. In his dilemma he thought of his old playmate the monkey, who, he knew, could climb trees better than any one else in the world. He determined to ask the monkey to help him, and set out to find him.
Running crab-fashion up the stony river bank, over the pathways into the shadowy forest, the crab at last found the monkey taking an afternoon nap in his favorite pine-tree, with his tail curled tight around a branch to prevent him from falling off in his dreams. He was soon wide awake, however, when he heard himself called, and eagerly listening to what the crab told him. When he heard that the seed which he had long ago exchanged for a rice-dumpling had grown into a tree and was now bearing good fruit, he was delighted, for he at once devised a cunning plan which would give him all the persimmons for himself.
He consented to go with the crab to pick the fruit for him. When they both reached the spot, the monkey was astonished to see what a fine tree had sprung from the seed, and with what a number of ripe persimmons the branches were loaded.
He quickly climbed the tree and began to pluck and eat, as fast as he could, one persimmon after another. Each time he chose the best and ripest he could find, and went on eating till he could eat no more. Not one would he give to the poor hungry crab waiting below, and when he had finished there was little but the hard, unripe fruit left.
You can imagine the feelings of the poor crab after waiting patiently, for so long as he had done, for the tree to grow and the fruit to ripen, when he saw the monkey devouring all the good persimmons. He was so disappointed that he ran round and round the tree calling to the monkey to remember his promise. The monkey at first took no notice of the crab's complaints, but at last he picked out the hardest, greenest persimmon he could find and aimed it at the crab's head. The persimmon is as hard as stone when it is unripe. The monkey's missile struck home and the crab was sorely hurt by the blow. Again and again, as fast as he could pick them, the monkey pulled off the hard persimmons and threw them at the defenseless crab till he dropped dead, covered with wounds all over his body. There he lay a pitiful sight at the foot of the tree he had himself planted.
When the wicked monkey saw that he had killed the crab he ran away from the spot as fast as he could, in fear and trembling, like a coward as he was.
Now the crab had a son who had been playing with a friend not far from the spot where this sad work had taken place. On the way home he came across his father dead, in a most dreadful condition—his head was smashed and his shell broken in several places, and around his body lay the unripe persimmons which had done their deadly work. At this dreadful sight the poor young crab sat down and wept.
But when he had wept for some time he told himself that this crying would do no good; it was his duty to avenge his father's murder, and this he determined to do. He looked about for some clue which would lead him to discover the murderer. Looking up at the tree he noticed that the best fruit had gone, and that all around lay bits of peel and numerous seeds strewn on the ground as well as the unripe persimmons which had evidently been thrown at his father. Then he understood that the monkey was the murderer, for he now remembered that his father had once told him the story of the rice-dumpling and the persimmon-seed. The young crab knew that monkeys liked persimmons above all other fruit, and he felt sure that his greed for the coveted fruit had been the cause of the old crab's death. Alas!
He at first thought of going to attack the monkey at once, for he burned with rage. Second thoughts, however, told him that this was useless, for the monkey was an old and cunning animal and would be hard to overcome. He must meet cunning with cunning and ask some of his friends to help him, for he knew it would be quite out of his power to kill him alone.
The young crab set out at once to call on the mortar, his father's old friend, and told him of all that had happened. He besought the mortar with tears to help him avenge his father's death. The mortar was very sorry when he heard the woful tale and promised at once to help the young crab punish the monkey to death. He warned him that he must be very careful in what he did, for the monkey was a strong and cunning enemy. The mortar now sent to fetch the bee and the chestnut (also the crab's old friends) to consult them about the matter. In a short time the bee and the chestnut arrived. When they were told all the details of the old crab's death and of the monkey's wickedness and greed, they both gladly consented to help the young crab in his revenge.
After talking for a long time as to the ways and means of carrying out their plans they separated, and Mr. Mortar went home with the young crab to help him bury his poor father.
While all this was taking place the monkey was congratulating himself (as the wicked often do before their punishment comes upon them) on all he had done so neatly. He thought it quite a fine thing that he had robbed his friend of all his ripe persimmons and then that he had killed him. Still, smile as hard as he might, he could not banish altogether the fear of the consequences should his evil deeds be discovered. IF he were found out (and he told himself that this could not be for he had escaped unseen) the crab's family would be sure to bear him hatred and seek to take revenge on him. So he would not go out, and kept himself at home for several days. He found this kind of life, however, extremely dull, accustomed as he was to the free life of the woods, and at last he said:
"No one knows that it was I who killed the crab! I am sure that the old thing breathed his last before I left him. Dead crabs have no mouths! Who is there to tell that I am the murderer? Since no one knows, what is the use of shutting myself up and brooding over the matter? What is done cannot be undone!"
With this he wandered out into the crab settlement and crept about as slyly as possible near the crab's house and tried to hear the neighbors' gossip round about. He wanted to find out what the crabs were saving about their chief's death, for the old crab had been the chief of the tribe. But he heard nothing and said to himself:
"They are all such fools that they don't know and don't care who murdered their chief!"
Little did he know in his so-called "monkey's wisdom" that this seeming unconcern was part of the young crab's plan. He purposely pretended not to know who killed his father, and also to believe that he had met his death through his own fault. By this means he could the better keep secret the revenge on the monkey, which he was meditating.
So the monkey returned home from his walk quite content. He told himself he had nothing now to fear.
One fine day, when the monkey was sitting at home, he was surprised by the appearance of a messenger from the young crab. While he was wondering what this might mean, the messenger bowed before him and said:
"I have been sent by my master to inform you that his father died the other day in falling from a persimmon tree while trying to climb the tree after fruit. This, being the seventh day, is the first anniversary after his death, and my master has prepared a little festival in his father's honor, and bids you come to participate in it as you were one of his best friends. My master hopes you will honor his house with your kind visit."
When the monkey heard these words he rejoiced in his inmost heart, for all his fears of being suspected were now at rest. He could not guess that a plot had just been set in motion against him. He pretended to be very surprised at the news of the crab's death, and said:
"I am, indeed, very sorry to hear of your chief's death. We were great friends as you know. I remember that we once exchanged a rice-dumpling for a persimmon-seed. It grieves me much to think that that seed was in the end the cause of his death. I accept your kind invitation with many thanks. I shall be delighted to do honor to my poor old friend!" And he screwed some false tears from his eyes.
The messenger laughed inwardly and thought, "The wicked monkey is now dropping false tears, but within a short time he shall shed real ones." But aloud he thanked the monkey politely and went home.
When he had gone, the wicked monkey laughed aloud at what he thought was the young crab's innocence, and without the least feeling began to look forward to the feast to be held that day in honor of the dead crab, to which he had been invited. He changed his dress and set out solemnly to visit the young crab.
He found all the members of the crab's family and his relatives waiting to receive and welcome him. As soon as the bows of meeting were over they led him to a hall. Here the young chief mourner came to receive him. Expressions of condolence and thanks were exchanged between them, and then they all sat down to a luxurious feast and entertained the monkey as the guest of honor.
The feast over, he was next invited to the tea-ceremony room to drink a cup of tea. When the young crab had conducted the monkey to the tearoom he left him and retired. Time passed and still he did not return. At last the monkey became impatient. He said to himself:
"This tea ceremony is always a very slow affair. I am tired of waiting so long. I am very thirsty after drinking so much sake at the dinner!"
He then approached the charcoal fire-place and began to pour out some hot water from the kettle boiling there, when something burst out from the ashes with a great pop and hit the monkey right in the neck. It was the chestnut, one of the crab's friends, who had hidden himself in the fireplace. The monkey, taken by surprise, jumped backward, and then started to run out of the room.
The bee, who was hiding outside the screens, now flew out and stung him on the cheek. The monkey was in great pain, his neck was burned by the chestnut and his face badly stung by the bee, but he ran on screaming and chattering with rage.
Now the stone mortar had hidden himself with several other stones on the top of the crab's gate, and as the monkey ran underneath, the mortar and all fell down on the top of the monkey's head. Was it possible for the monkey to bear the weight of the mortar falling on him from the top of the gate? He lay crushed and in great pain, quite unable to get up. As he lay there helpless the young crab came up, and, holding his great claw scissors over the monkey, he said:
"Do you now remember that you murdered my father?"
"Then you—are—my—enemy?" gasped the monkey brokenly.
"Of course," said the young crab.
"It—was—your—father's—fault—not—mine!" gasped the unrepentant monkey.
"Can you still lie? I will soon put an end to your breath!" and with that he cut off the monkey's head with his pitcher claws. Thus the wicked monkey met his well-merited punishment, and the young crab avenged his father's death.

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